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#what would you do after you finished traveling the world?
arisewanekosuki · 18 hours
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hello I have an ask for traveler’s little helper what if LH has a food allergy and forgot to mention it and some of the boys (Subaru bois + Ather & Paimon )were witness to a severe allergic reaction.
Hello! Sorry that it took so long T_T I hope you'll still enjoy this! >.< Tbh I don't have allergy to anything so sorry if something is not correct m(_ _)m ---- You didn’t know how this happened. It started as a normal day, doing commissions in Sumeru with Aether and this time Cyno was the one who had time to help you both. When you finished and Aether approached Katheryne to get payment, Cyno invited you for dinner. Of course you didn’t get it that Cyno wanted to eat dinner with ONLY YOU, you thought he wanted to spend more time with your whole group. And surprise, surprise. The rest of Sumeru boys invited themselves to this dinner. Cyno is not even sure how they knew about it, he was paying attention to his surroundings, making sure nobody else will hear about his plans and yet, here they are. You didn’t complain, as you said “the more the merrier!” Meanwhile Tighnari gave his friend the look that said ‘Nice try’, Kaveh was the one who was asking how your day went, Alhaitham sat in silence, waiting for food and listening to your conversation with Kaveh. Wanderer sat in silence too, from time to time bickering with Paimon, Aether looked tired, for sure he just wanted to relax with you in Teapot. You couldn’t see it from Cyno’s face but he was disappointed that again, he couldn’t spend some alone time with you.
After a while many dishes were brought to your group table. Paimon and you were excited to try some of them that you didn’t eat before. But after taking some bites you started to feel unwell. Not only you didn’t realize the dish had something you have an allergy to, you never mentioned it to even Aether and Paimon. The reason is that you thought that in this world your allergies won’t act up at all and not only that, to this day it seems you luckily avoided anything that you’re allergic to.
You started to have trouble with breathing and feel dizzy. Tighnari was the one who reacted first. For a moment he wondered if there was poison in food but looking more at you he understood it was a severe allergic reaction. He laid you down on the floor and searched in his little bag if he had anything right now that can help you. Paimon was panicking, asking “What happened to her?! Will she be alright?!” Aether was panicking too, crouching by your side and looked scared, not understanding what’s going on. Alhaitham and Cyno asked Tighnari what’s going on. While Kaveh asked what they should do to help you.  Tighnari asked them to make space for you and explained that you have an allergic reaction. He tsked when realizing he doesn’t have anything to help you. -“ We need to inject her with adrenaline! We shouldn’t move her in this state, so someone has to go to hospital-“ before he could finish sentence, Wanderer already left the restaurant and went to hospital. Tighnari was monitoring your condition while Kaveh was trying to calm down both Paimon and Aether (and himself), Alhaitham and Cyno keep people from coming to see what’s going on while the whole group waited for Wanderer.
They didn’t wait too long for Wanderer to come back. Tighnari applicated the adrenaline to you while others waited, some more nervous than others. When you could breathe normally and felt better, the boys would give you only one minute before they started scolding you for not saying something important like this earlier. -”How could you forget to tell us about your allergy?!” said Tighnari flicking your forehead. -”Yeah! We traveled for so long together and you didn’t say a thing about it?!” shouted Paimon. -”What if Tighnari wasn’t here?! We wouldn’t be able to help you!” said Aether, very angry at you. -”(Y/n), you shouldn’t hide things like this from us.” said Cyno, even if he sounded calm you could see disappointment in his eyes. -”But-” you were interrupted. -”They are right!! Do you think we want to see you suffer like this?!” Kaveh raised his voice a bit. -”But I-”  you were interrupted again. -”Hmpf, it seems you can’t take care of yourself, so tell us what you're allergic to, now.” said Wanderer with crossed arms. -”Even if nothing happens to you in the end, I assume it’s still not a pleasant experience for you. It’s better to know in the future what to avoid to order, than making fuss in restaurants.” said Alhaitham. Food got cold, but Paimon didn’t mind. After you told them what you are allergic to, they ordered new dishes. You hoped that you could just enjoy food now but not really. From time to time you could hear complaints about how careless you are. You got a bit annoyed but you nodded to them and promised that you will be more careful in future. After all, you know they just worried about your well-being. From this day the boys started to pay even more attention to you and your health.
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threeletterslife · 2 years
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HI! I am yet to start reading LOD (and that’s because I am so pent up with work that I have accustomed to reading oneshots when I’m free), so I started reading Love like Fibonacci just a week back. AND NAMJOON’S CHARACTER?? It had me tear up 😭 I swear, I say I love angst stories but its rarely 1-2 stories that have made me cry so bad. And also, the recent oc was just🥺💘 it only got me thinking, if the story can have a part 2 or a follow up Drabble to it because idk why, I just want Joon to finally witness one happy ending in his endless life🥹
omg our love like fibonacci takes me WAY back. that was almost two? three? years ago!!!
sometimes, i forget how angsty that fic rlly is 😭 with all that philosophy and math going on, i forget completely that it's a pretty dark story if you think about it. poor namjoon!
i think the ending is very hopeful, though. even if namjoon is technically "cursed," he sees his eternal life as somewhat of a blessing because of oc :') even though he ends up losing the "special" oc, sometime in the future, he'll meet another version of her that stains his heart again!
with that said, i don't think i'll have a pt 2 or drabble for ollf. it's a standalone short story that's meant to evoke thoughts and questions. if i revealed too much, created past what was meant to be created, i might ruin the story! but the ending does allude to the fact that joon will meet another version of oc who is also like oc!! (who knows? what if she also writes him letters? what if the next oc knows about her past selves?) the possibilities are endless, and though joon may be stuck in one man's curse, he's in his own 'paradise'
also, mans can just learn computer science and code up some recursive function that calculates the fibonacci-virahanka sequence FOR him
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shaisuki · 14 days
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𝗟𝗢𝗢𝗦𝗘 𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗦
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ft. bully! gojo satoru and geto suguru
content warnings college au, heavy bullying, gaslighting, noncon, dubcon, implied sexual assault, allusions to depression/suicide, alcohol consumption, drinking, implied drugging, fatphobia, overdosing, naoya zen'in is an asshole, humiliation, threats, minor oc character. dead dove do not eat.
notes this might come as disappointing since some of you wanting revenge what this two idiots had done to reader. their are some matters that i think is too complicated and impossible so i came with this way as the breaking point where reader starts to retaliate/plan her revenge. will get to it later and to that anon, who asked for the revenge, i will get once i start to finish this one up. please read the warnings, i don't want someone bitching in the comments telling me that the contents above is uncool. it truly is not cool. that's why it have warnings. it is on a fictional context. do read the warnings before continuing. also do let me know of what you think of this chapter.
read part one, here. two here.
SERIES MASTERLIST
synopsis you let them take and take what they can from you. you were a nobody after all but everybody have their breaking point.
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the world is a blur to you. colors of red and blue dances in your vision while voices whispers to you. what's happening? you can't move. it's like your body were made of lead. you can't understand what they were saying. multiple faces stares at you, are you dead? is this what you see when people surround you while they lower your casket. is it? you hope it was, cause you didn't plan on living anymore. there's nothing worth moving forward and the world around you turns black.
there's a beep and then silence. you hear before you see and when you opened your eyes, all you can see is a bright light above you. it took you minutes to adjust your vision and realize where you are. you're in a hospital. laying on a bed and you started to get irritated at your oxygen mask. you tug at it. getting frustrated why it keeps coming back at you before someone put their hand on it. completely removing it and there you breath. your sight darted to the hand who helped you until your sight travels to his arms and then to his face. a brief recognition flashes through you.
“nanami?” you call his name unsure but you know it was definitely him. it was hard to mistake him for someone. there's his blonde hair, neatly parted. his pristine beige sweater paired a dark colored trouser, not a crinkle in sight and his signature silver watch in his wrist. you met him once at the literature club and decided you were going to be there too not until it changed due to some circumstances. his lips parted but before he can speak, a cheery voice interrupted him.
“she's awake!?” said haibara, you also knew him since he and nanami were always together. seeing your confused state, his voice died down. “what happened?” you asked them and they exchanged looks before haibara answers you.
“we found you passed out in the lawn. thought you were drunk but you weren't breathing.” haibara's voice was soft while he slowly breaks down the reason why you ended up here.
a doctor comes inside to your room before haibara can finish. you took note of her pristine white coat with her surname embroidered on it. clicking her pen and whipping out her clipboard she pulled out of nowhere. you were distracted by it. the doctor's eyes is on you now and you began to frown.
the doctor coughs clearing her throat before speaking. “hello, ms. (y/n). i'm glad you're awake now.” noticing your confused expression she pauses began answering the question. “to answer your question you were unconscious for two days and is brought for possible assault. we need your con—”
“no!”
“ms. it would help for you t—”
“you heard me!? i said no!” you scream at the doctor and your tears appeared in your eyes. you didn't realize you were screaming. nanami and haibara stand there in silence but the looks on their face said otherwise. concern painted in their faces and the doctor bows before leaving. looking at the men inside in your room to call her if you need anything.
cause if they would test you, they would find the remains of their sperm inside you and then report? who will believe you? it would be buried like the case of another girls like you who were too afraid nor fight their abusers. you don't find the point of that. they would twist the words out of you. it was easy to believe than you.
you curled up in bed and did the next thing you can. cry. now, you're in here and the events before this plays in your head in repeat.
“f-fuck”
satoru curses out while suguru bites your ear. your body like jello as they spilled their load for the nth that day. both of them lowered your body after fucking your brains out. warm up, they say. you shiver as you feel their cum running down your thighs. feeling disgusted as it began to stick after being exposed to the air. you grab the wipes but suguru stopped you, grabbing it from your hands and cleaning you up. fixing your skirt in the meantime.
“worth every penny.” suguru mutters. staring at the new clothes they bought for you. a baby blue corseted puff-sleeved, square neck top matched with a black skirt that rests on your mid thigh is what they forced you to wear. it feels tight. intentionally buying it one size smaller than you usually wore and it more feel you like a stuffed sausage rather a comfortable piece of clothing. you can't say no to what they wanted. you're a bit of grateful that they allowed you to wear your white sneakers rather than those kitten heels that would put your feet in blisters.
satoru's fingers brushes through the expanse of your exposed flesh. playing with the small bow in your top. sighing, “suguru, can we have more with (y/n)-chan?” his best friend chuckles at him. “idiot, we're already running late, after that we can.” satoru pouts. “tch, party pooper.” he ignores gojo and moves his attention to you.
“smile, this is your first real party. you're going to enjoy this.” suguru lifts your chin up with his finger and you obediently nodded. “ditch and you know what will happen.” he warns.
it was a bad idea. the moment you stood in the front door. the party was already in motion. you can hear the people inside shouting profanities and booming music mixed with already drunk frat members and student bodies. this was never really your crowd and when you were shoved inside with gojo and geto you were done and you already felt like crying. you look at the duo in front of you. they were already engaged in conversation with the other people here.
“gojo, you son of a bitch. you fucking came.�� a guy hollered in the side and you see more of his features as he gets nearer. a snarl in his face with multiple piercings in his ear. a hair dyed blonde with green accents.
“ah, zen’in. wouldn't missed this just i could wipe that smirk off your face.” gojo mocks him and before the guy whom gojo called zen’in darts his sight to you. he raises a brow. “you two in fat bitches now?” pointing at you with hand cupping a plastic cup. gojo scoffs. “none of your business, zen'in.” glaring at him but he can't see that gojo's looking at him with dark glasses in the way. “then you two wouldn't mind me using her.” he suggested and suguru gaze darkens at him. “fuck off, naoya.” almost growling at naoya and the latter raises his hand in mock defeat before finding shit he could entertain himself with.
suguru scowls after naoya left, he looks at you like you just turned his mood sour. “you're an embarrassment.” he says and you bit your lip. keeping the tears at bay and you don't really want to embarrass yourself more at this party. “hey, hey suguru.” gojo taps his shoulder. “let loose, don't naoya get to you.” satoru glances at you. his blue eyes peering in his glasses. “you're right.” his stare cold at you. “find a seat, (y/n). you're embarrassing us now with you around.” you nod and you find yourself in a vacant corner. near to those already wasted or just plain chilling in the couch in front of you.
what did you expect? that were all sex talk or when they're in good mood. all those praise and compliments are just enough to feel you good about yourself for a bit and then they'll come destroying it. you stare at the view through the window. the night's particularly beautiful and peaceful except the place you're in and you're already missing the comfort of your bed.
you take a sip from your cup. a girl gave it you earlier saying that it's a special concoction that's only made at this parties. unsure you took it. not wanting to show ungratefulness to someone whose only been polite to you and she seems nice. you cringe slightly at the taste and the burning of the liquid as it flows down your throat. coughing you bring down the cup, not used to drinking.
your first time being a party, your eyes wander how your peers lost their selves in the influence of alcohol. some where dancing and mingling. talking like they were friends and you caught of others taking their business upstairs. you were kind of jealous how everyone are the life of the party and you sit here in your misery. you continue to observe everyone and you caught gojo. it's impossible to miss his tall stature and his white hair standing in the crowd. a petite woman is linked to him. her thin arms are wrapped around his neck and it was clear what they were doing. there they stood in the crowd. kissing.
“satoru.” gojo was taking a swig of his drink when a girl approached him. calling his name like they were lovers but it was more like an ex-fling. never had a relationship with her. she was only a temporary fun. “ah, sar—ah, sayuri.” he almost curses at himself. sayuri playfully pouts at him and there it is, the batting of eyelashes. “that's mean, satoru. you already forgot me.” her lips puckers before placing a hand in his chest. if this was a another party of gojo and he really liked this girl. he would have taken her upstairs. he caught you in the corner. you were like a child in awe at the people in this house. gojo almost chuckles at your cute antics but suppressed it and then a cruel idea pops in his mind. “missed me?” he asks sayuri and there was no answer needed as he crashes his lips to sayuri. his sight never leaving yours and when you caught him. he watch as your eyes widens, you lower your head in embarrassment before chugging that drink in your cup in one swig. he smirks in the kiss as he watches you wiped your tears away. he always liked making you cry.
you should have ditched this stupid party, even it means getting punished by those again. you were hurt. they always like to torture you. listen as they tell you how worthless and unlovable you are while they keep girls who are clearly not you by their side. those girls were perfectly fit for them to be seen in public and you were there for them to humiliate you. with your head lowered, you stifled a sob. wiping your tears with your hands shaking. they kept flowing and you kept messily wiping them and with that you slowly made your way outside. discreetly making your way through the door and you almost laugh. you were a nobody. you're not made for pretty things and this goddamn outfit you wore only added to your misery. you never felt beautiful and it looks ugly on you. wrapped a sausage with a different and it will still look the same.
no one noticed you leaving except for suguru's watchful gaze.
suguru finds his friend making out with a girl he definitely doesn't remember. suguru slaps his back and satoru broke the kiss. wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and ignores the girl he was just making out seconds ago. suguru points the door where you left earlier. you're really looking for trouble and with that they left following you.
sayuri was stunned being shoved aside again. she was angry. how the fuck did you get those two's attention especially gojo's? she's beautiful. she's thin. academically excelling and you, a fat nobody bitch easily made those two fall for you. she knows they were just playing at you and sayuri could take it but being shoved again by satoru isn't what she expected tonight. she's going to be satoru's bride. it was decided from the start and satoru knows it. their fathers friends since their college days had made a decision to marry their son and daughter before they were even born and she did everything she can just to have satoru's attention but why can't she even get to look at her without her trying. it's your fault. it's your fucking fault! you deserve to die. you're fucking stupid for accepting that drink like you're a fucking saint and now, maybe you'll rethink your choices of making those your own and satoru will only have his eyes for her and only her.
weird. why are your hands sweating? it's cold. freezing cold. you know this temperature at night is normal but why are you freezing cold. hah, your vision's starting to get funny too. where there always stars in the sky? ahh, i want to go home. i wonder if akira's still awake. i didn't told her that i was going away tonight. my eyes hurt. you were crying. this was your thoughts as you walked away.
it was to easy to catch you with their long strides. satoru grabs your flabby arm angrily. “we told you, you don't leave without us. do you really want to get punished, (y/n)-chan?” his voice snarky as he digs his nails in your arms. it hurts. it really must really hurt but you're suddenly numb to feel anything. you just stare at him in confusion and then you hear voices. they were calling them to get back.
gojo scowls at them. your knees buckled and you sat in the ground. geto tsked. “we're going back to you later.” he says and they left you there and there were loud cheers. you lay there in the ground. numb and your vision fades away.
you blinked as you stare in the nothingness. that's what you last remembered. they left you there and you hoped you died. you can't take another bullshit of what they put you through. the tears continuously flows from your eyes and your blanket is wet with tears. haibara puts a comforting hand in your shoulder and you bursted crying again. this was the real kindness you felt since the accident. they didn't blame you. they only stayed and made sure you were resting enough. stranger they maybe or an acquaintance. you would never forget this kindness from them.
days. nights. you stayed in the hospital until you were cleared. you made nothing of what happened to you. putting it in the records as an allergic reaction in which the hospital agreed. just like that even when you're in the brink of death of what happened to you. if you took the procedure for assault. they would be guilty but it was days old now and bruises are left in your skin as nothing but reminders of the humiliation of what they did to you.
for now, you're going to cry. cry until there's nothing left to cry for.
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inarvii · 1 month
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₊˚.- NEEDLES AND PINS
Patience breeds success. However, Dr. Veritas Ratio's patience has successfully run thin when it comes to the Intelligentsia Guild's new professor.
OR
Dr. Ratio hate reads about you.
wc - 3.4k
A/N - Basically a Dr. Ratio character study, inspired by the Deftones song Needles and Pins.
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Veritas Ratio was a Needle. 
At least, that is what he saw himself as. He was sharp, precise, and calculated. One had to be in this world full of ignorant minds. 
His known prestige amongst scholars was by no accident. Every equation, formula, and theory engraved into his mind was nothing he didn’t want there. His reputation at the Intelligentsia Guild was by no fault other than his own. And he liked it this way. 
So when Dr. Veritas Ratio’s curiosity peaks, he will seek out information regardless of what stands in his way. It just so happens that the rumor of a Genius Society member abandoning their ranking to join the Intelligence Guild not only piques his interest but puzzles him quite a bit. 
Everything Veritas Ratio has ever done—ever accomplished was with intent. That’s just what a needle does. 
And as he reads the passage before him in the worn textbook he fished out of the bookshelves at his university, he intends to figure out your perplexing nature. 
“…and discovered five different constellations that are now crucial to Intercosmic Space Travel, earning the name of the ‘Star Lit Genius’ just after finishing her Associates.”
- Excerpt from Exploring the Starlit Genius
A fool. 
Ratio closes the bulky biography with a booming thud. The echo can be heard bouncing off the walls of his office. 
That is what you were. That is your nature. 
A fool is the only description he can think of as he sharply brings his fingers to his lips. Questions bubble inside him, but the one that escapes himself is, “Why?” 
Why would anyone do such a thing? The mere thought that someone could leave the Genius Society was baffling. Sure, there probably were some that had left, but that had to be Amber Eras in the past. 
It wasn’t ignorance it was foolishness. Perhaps he was right about Genius Society members having a rock up their asses. There was truly nothing that separated them from the mundane, such as himself. They were just as equally subjected to idiocy. 
But could you do such a thing?
You. A scholar blessed by Nous! Given a chance—an opportunity. 
He scoffs, his head jerking to the side as if catching himself in an act. 
He shouldn’t care. 
He doesn’t care. 
He’s over that. 
Ratio sighs and shakes his head. He doesn’t care. You were foolish, that’s all. It was nothing more. 
But who might this fool be? 
Ratio’s cold finger travels around the textbook's hardcover. He quickly flips through the pages. Frustration is evident on his face as his brows furrow the more pages he turns. 
Yet, there’s nothing. 
There’s not one picture of you—the fool—that perplexes his mind. Of course, there wouldn’t be. The Genius Society's “holy” standing wouldn’t allow that. So, he’ll just have to wait for the day he meets the deluded “genius.” 
“Immediately after finishing her Associates, the Star Lit Genius earned funds from the IPC for her findings, causing the young brilliant mind to venture more deeply into the cosmos.”
- Excerpt form Exploring the Starlit Genius
Time had passed and life went on. It had been a month since Veritas’ initial read of your biography. He had learned much. Such as your main fields of anatomy, pathology, chemistry and of course astronomy. Little details of your past are stored neatly in the back of the Doctor’s mind, but he has had no use for it. The new semester had started and as time went on he too started to carry on. Students plagued his mind instead, yet a star glittered somewhere near. 
“Dr. Ratio.”
It’s no voice he’s familiar with. Or maybe one he’s just not accustomed to yet. Most likely a new student in one of his classes.  
He doesn’t even bother to look up. Instead he continues to shuffle through his papers with equations and calculations of the new curriculum that he would soon ignore altogether in his lessons. 
He sighs. “Students are to ask questions during the appointed time.” His voice lacks any interest whatsoever. 
He was tired of students who seemed to think they were special. If anything, the unfamiliar voice is probably a student coming to butter him up before the semester starts to get on his good side. 
“Oh, I’m not a student.” Your voice isn’t familiar, but the syllables that roll off your tongue are ever engraved into his mind. His inner consciousness has read the name so much that he can envision the letters.  
Before he looks up, a smug grin shows on his face. Finally, he could put the foolish mind to the face. It was a gift, really. You, coming straight to his door. You had done all the work for him. 
But then he takes his first look at you. 
Veritas Ratio isn’t one to be rendered speechless, but his surprise is evident. His grin drops at the sight of you. Before, he had imagined that he should have put on his mask of marble to forbid his eyes from the sight of such a foolish person. But now his frustrations were fueled even more by the undeniable fact that a fool could look like…you. 
“Professor Alvarez said you would be the person to go to regarding any Physics textbooks,” you say, and Ratio comes back to reality as your voice vibrates around the large space. You stand in the wide door frame, hands held together in front of you. 
“Ah,” he chokes out. “Our new professor.” He quickly gets up to walk to the bookshelf behind him to rid the sight of you. His steps are light but eager; however, his back stands straight, and his head is held high. This was it? This was the fool he had read about? What a pity, he thinks as he climbs a few steps up the ladder of the bookshelf. Looks wasted on a simpleton. 
Ratio tries to change the topic of conversation while trying not to show his evident surprise. “Say, what does an astronomer have that warrants the need for physics?” He questions. 
You're quick to answer. “Well, the two are connected, I’m sure you’re aware.” 
He is aware—he’s well aware. But he’s also aware of his unwelcomed knowledge of your hatred for anything purely mathematical in any sense, especially physics, which you loathe the most. He even remembers the page clearly in chapter twenty-six, section fou—but that's beside the point. His ever-growing facts about you are a card he cannot yet play. He has only gazed at you for a mere eight seconds. So for now, he will keep his mouth shut. 
“I am,” he says confidently, a slight hint of offense in his voice. “Professors here, however usually tend to their specific fields rather than branching off.” His fingers trace the spine of the dusty books before carefully selecting one and then another. 
“One of my students is infatuated by the correlation of the two. It’s something that I had no interest in during my years of studying.” The sound of you shuffling your feet bounces off the walls. “I’m forced to learn now I suppose.”
“Whatever for? You’re no physicist,” he scoffs.  His hand lingers around a book as he debates himself in his mind. 
“To answer my students' questions, of course,” you answer without a second thought. 
A genius interested in the pursuit of other’s knowledge. Ratio’s frustrations physically manifest in the form of a silent sigh.  An anomaly you were. An Irritating one at that. 
He picks up the book.  
He doesn’t say anything as he descends the ladder—or when he walks to where you stand with an uninterested look on his face. He simply plops the books in your hands with a quick “Here.” Their weight jolts you down briefly. 
“Some of these are limited or editor's copies.” His eyes meet yours for the first time since you came in. “Do try not to dirty them.”
He turns to walk back to his desk, but the sound of your voice stops him. 
“Which is your favorite?”
Ratio turns to walk back to you as he looks you up and down. His fingers fish between the books in your arms, and he pulls out one. It’s encased in golden leather. He lifts it up to hold it out in front of you. 
Your hand grazes the hardcover. You look at it, eying the author. ‘Professor Emeritus.’ You look up at him with a hint of playfulness in your eyes. It makes him uneasy—like the breath has been sucked out of his lungs. But then you have the nerve to smile at him, and he can feel himself getting hot. 
“Thank you,” you say, and you turn away. 
His mind races. His heart beats a bit faster. It’s only when the click of your heels are out of earshot and when the doctor is trying to recover in his desk chair that he realizes he’s forgotten to tell you when to bring them back. 
“...the only way to transcend the limitations of the individual is to have an academic network of mutual learning.”
- Intelligentsia Guild 
He ignores you. 
That’s not to say he doesn't see you. Of course, he does. How could one not see you? It has turned into a game over the past two weeks. He must spot you first to make sure you do not spot him. 
So he does just that. 
He has no use conversing with a Genius Society member turned idiot. He simply gave you those books to help the students you were teaching, nothing more. 
So he carries on with his usual routine of avoiding you. Until, there’s a pile of books with ribbon wrapped around them at his office door. But there’s only three of them. 
Ratio quickly picks up the stack of books and unlocks his office door. When at his desk, he finally notices the note placed neatly between the book and ribbon.  
Thank you for letting me borrow these. They were very insightful. I have saved your recommendation for last. I will bring it back once I have finished it.  
He examines your handwriting—your signature—and how the way you write your A’s and H’s differ from him. 
As Ratio revels in the fact that you took his word at face value, he examines the books. His fingers caress the covers and flip through the pages.  
You made sure not to dirty them. 
“To grow and excel as a Scholar is to reconsider. A Hypothesis that is drawn due to stubbornness and ignorance is a hypothesis from no mind worth listening to.” 
- Professor Emeritus in “Attentive Beings” 
“Come in,” Ratio replies to the three knocks on his study door. This time, he looks up from his reading as soon as he hears the heels click on the polished wooden floor. 
You smile at him—book held in hand. 
He greets you with another disinterested look as he turns his head back to the papers in front of him. “Did you enjoy it?” 
“I certainly did,” you call out. Although he doesn’t look at you, he can hear you walk slowly around his office. He lets out a sigh as he writes down something. 
But then your heels click too close to the round table by the window in the corner of his study, and his mouth grows dry. He looks up as he watches you eye the books he had left open on the table, and put the book you had borrowed down. Your fingernails graze the papers slowly, and you turn the page. 
“You read about me?”
Ratio’s throat closes up at your question as he scurries to organize the files and loose sheets of paper before him just to occupy his hands. He puts a fist to his lips and clears his throat. “I simply wanted to know more about the new Professor who would teach some of my former students,” he affirms boldly. 
“It’s okay.” your eyes lift up from the pages and turn to him with a smile. “I read about you too.” 
He’s not surprised. He shouldn’t be surprised. Any good scholar would do that. But something stirs inside him still. His stomach flips from…excitement. This odd feeling goes unnoticed by you as the doctor quickly covers himself with his swift response “Is that so?” 
“Mhm,” you hum. You grab the book and slowly make your way closer and closer to his desk—to him. “You’re quite the mathematician,” you smile. “…and philosopher.” 
His arms fold and his eyes trail your figure as you approach. 
“So tell me, after reading this thing.” You hold up the book. “What’s your ‘philosophy’ on me?” 
He sits there in silence looking at you. 
“Please, Doctor,” you smirk. “Tell us your verdict on the new professor.” 
He’s still hesitant. But the look you give him is like fire on his skin, and he wants to rid of it. So he speaks. “Fine, if you must know.” He lets out an exasperated sigh. 
“You’re a fool. Through and through.”
“Is that so?”
“The evidence is clear.”
“Do elaborate, Doctor.” 
 He sighs again. What has he gotten himself into? “You’re an astronomer.” 
“That I am,” you smirk. Oh, he hates that smirk of yours. That smile of yours. That face of yours. 
“You’re an astronomer that hates physics.” Ratio stand subtly and makes his was round his desk to you. “Quite absurd actually.” He crosses his arms and you shift your body to look him in the eye. “You have no interest in anything mathematical when math is the foundation of all that ever was and will ever be.” 
“Mhmm.” And there’s that smirk again as you look up at him. 
“You’ve done mounds of research, and any organization would want you.” His voice is booming and stern as if he were lecturing one of his students. “Yet, you pick the IPC of all things to give your work to.” 
You're a star, you blaze. Yet you choose to be mediocre like him. It's infuriating.
You nod, and he takes a step closer to you. His brows furrow in frustration, and his finger points down at you. 
“And the cherry on top is that you’ve chosen to stray from the Erudition and-“
“Leave the genius Society,” you finish. 
Your voice strikes him. He flinches backward and his back stiffens. You’re toying with him. He wonders if it is something he’s opposed to. 
“Is that why you dislike me, Veritas?”
He’s opposed to it, he concludes. He steps back, and his arms go to his chest once more. “Dislike?” He lets out an exclaimed scoff. “I barely know you, Professor.” He lets the last word roll off his tongue like an insult. 
You hold up the book in your hands and read the title to yourself. ‘Exploring the Starlit Genius’ 
“Barely?” You ask. 
“Nonsense,” is all he can claim as he returns to his desk. 
You lean over it, your spread out hands creating a mess of his once neatly placed papers. “You make a conscious effort not to meet my eyes around here.”
Ever the observant one you were. But he denies it. “Our paths must have never crossed,” he explains. 
You tilt your head with a knowing look as you cross your arms. “Don’t lie Veritas.” 
A shiver goes down his spine. He doesn’t know if it's because it’s the first time he’s ever been called a liar or because you’ve just said his first name. It’s been a while since someone called him something other than “Doctor” or “Professor.” At least that's the quick excuse he can come up with on the spot to ease his jittery mind. 
He’s caught. He’s finally caught. So he defends his hypothesis. 
“I don’t like fools,” he states matter-a-factly. “I tend to stay away from them.” 
“But not from me?” 
Oh your tongue is clever. Not as clever as his, he reassures himself. 
“You seem to know a lot about me.” 
He’s red. He knows it. But he cant seem to find something to throw back at you. His quick wit is anywhere but in the present. 
“Is it because deep down you know I’m right?” Your face softens. 
He stays silent. 
“Out of all the literature about me, you’ve chosen that which  is not written by me.” You run your hands across the book's cover and place it neatly before him. “You’ve been reading the books with my name on them but have never picked up the ones that I myself created. Why is that?” You smile, but your face shows genuine perplexity. 
If he has an answer, he doesn’t tell you. He keeps it to himself. However, the question he asks in response is an answer in itself.
“Why did you leave?” His voice is low—broken even. 
Your smile turns into an expression filled with a touch of sadness. “You ask questions you know the answer to?”
“Don't you dare mock me,” he snaps.
“What else are fools good for?”
He’s silent as his lips purse in anger. There are a few beats before he responds. “Teaching.”
Your face lightens in surprise, and your original charming smile returns. 
He wants to know. He yearns to know. But when you finally give him his answer, he knows it will burn like fire. He’ll finally have a reason why the thing he fought so much for was not all it was chopped up to be. The younger years of his life–wasted to appease THEM—all for nothing. Although he had reached a place of contentment, there was a little boy still in him who wanted to keep his former fantasy alive. 
“The Erudition is something that consumes people as do all Aeons. You know this, right Professor?” 
What you say is common sense. He gives you no answer or satisfaction. But he continues to listen attentively. 
“All intelligent minds are selfish to some extent. The genius society is filled with people who will pursue knowledge regardless of the people hurt. This includes themselves.In order to be a person of pure logic—a genius…” You pause for a second. “…you must lack empathy to some extent.”
You turn to meet him, and he swears he’s never seen any eyes more beautiful and full of honesty than yours. “And I have too much.”
And then, at your words, something clicks in his brain. 
Another smile takes over your lips as you face your body towards him. “And I believe you have more than you let on, Doctor.”
He’s in silence. 
He says nothing because he can’t say something. 
You walk around to the other side of his desk where he sits. His eyes follow your ever move while you do so. Your hand unlocks the clasp of your satchel and disappears inside. When it comes out, a book appears before him. 
He takes it in his hands tenderly and then looks at the title. ‘Philosophy of the Stars,’ he reads to himself. Then his eyes wander to the bottom of the cover, and there’s your name printed in gold. He looks up at you expectantly. 
Of course, when his eyes land on your face, your expression is full of glee. “If you wish to learn more about me, I hope you’ll do so through a book with all of my own words.”
You say nothing more as you turn on your heels and leave his office. Leaving Ratio with a feeling of shock and emptiness. 
His hand comes up to his face, and he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He sits there in silence and realizes…
You are none of what he had made you out to be…
Not a fool. Not an idiot. Not a genius. 
But a kind soul. 
He realizes that he was good enough. That he was not a fool either. Just a young boy who cared. 
His eyes linger on the book you left him— the book that his hands refuse to put down. He opens it to the very first page, and he finds your writing in it and a note that slips out on his lap. 
For the mediocre Dr. Veritas Ratio. 
Your name is signed as elegantly as before. He puts down the book on his desk and picks up the folded note on his lap. 
Feel free to dirty this. But keep it clean if you wish to auction it. It will be worth more with both our names on it, so don’t undersell. It is yours to do with as you please.   
One thing Veritas knows for sure is that this book won’t leave his possession in all his years to come. 
“THEIR silence was deafening.”
- Genius Society–Erudition, Astral Express Data Bank
Dr. Ratio is sharp, precise, and calculated. He considers himself to be all those things; he is a needle. 
But if Dr. Veritas Ratio is a needle, then you are a pin. 
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ty for reading. reblogs are appreciated <3
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sixosix · 5 months
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STAY, TOO | AETHER
desc you were afraid that aether would break your heart, but that all flew out the window the moment he got sick and demanded only you take care of him
notes wc 2.8k, FLUFF FLUFF bit of angst with reader’s mindset but happy ending i swear on my asia server genshin acc + this draft had been in my docs since 10/15/2023. its a miracle that i decided to pick up on it again and actually finish it !!!!!!! enjoy fellow aether kissers
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Evenings were always eerily silent; because of that, your thoughts were loud. Not in the way that screamed—no, it was much worse. It was his voice that whispered, that made you shiver and reach out for something that never existed. 
You didn’t know if you were dreaming or if you were awake and letting your mind wander away to a familiar face. Your mind always ended up back to him, no matter how much you tried to stray away. No matter who you talked to, he haunted you. Who you kissed, his face flashed in your mind. You wanted to curse his name out—it was his fault you were like this. It was his fault for deciding to come into this world and rid yourself of your defenses, left helpless to his whims.
“Um, Y/N?” A hand moved to your shoulder.
You jumped out of your seat, heart racing as his grinning face dissipated from your mind. You turned and breathed a sigh of relief. “What are you doing here, Sucrose?”
“It’s past midnight,” Sucrose murmured, her expression nervous, but apparently, she was too worried to leave you be. “I saw light from your window and thought you fell asleep…”
You didn’t even know if you were—everything before felt like a distant blur. Your eyes darted back to your desk, and then your face paled at the sight of a grinning face staring back at you. How long had you been mindlessly doodling Aether’s face? You quickly snatched them away from Sucrose’s view.
“I—I’m fine. Sorry, I did fall asleep.”
Sucrose’s bottom lip jutted out. “This has been happening for too long now. You’re not fine.”
What were you supposed to say to that? You were so hopelessly infatuated with someone who was ruining your life and possibly your job with Mr. Albedo. That would be a fast way to get yourself fired.
Sucrose sat on the chair beside you, her expression determined. “We’re friends, aren’t we? Can you at least tell me what’s going on?”
“It’s nothing that serious, Sucrose,” you stammered. Hopefully, the candles were dim enough to hide how flustered you were. It was more embarrassing than serious, really.
“Is it the Traveler?” She knew how to strike hard for someone with such an innocent face.
When had it not been the Traveler, honestly?
“Ugh…” That was a yes for her, apparently.
Sucrose smiled in relief. Her eyes darted around your face, studying you. “What’s wrong? Was he affecting you that much?”
“Yes. Disturbingly so. Like, seriously, it’s disturbing me.”
Sucrose’s eyes sparkled with wonder. “How?”
“It feels like swallowing a crystalfly whole and feeling it flutter around my stomach whenever I even think of him.”
Sucrose’s face turned serious. “What have you been doing to the crystalfies we’ve been collecting?”
“Never mind,” you muttered. “I’m fine, Sucrose. I promise, okay?”
You weren’t. Sucrose must’ve thought the same, too, because Lisa barged into your office the next day.
“What else are you expecting? For him to notice your wallowing and say something about it?”
Lisa’s sweet, melodious voice sounded torturous now when she was poking at all the things you were desperately trying to keep hidden. You sink against your seat, feeling a lot like a scolded kid, caught red-handed skipping chores—skipping responsibilities, hoping to stay oblivious for a bit longer.
“He already said something,” you grumbled, finding it difficult to meet the mage’s sharp eyes.
For someone who sounded as gentle as a mother to her only child, Lisa’s disappointment made you feel a lot more shameful than if she were to chide you in the middle of Mondstadt’s streets.
“A week after we met. He told me he likes me,” you continued.
Lisa’s jaw dropped, a funny expression you’ve never seen on her before. “A week after you met? Let me get this right—”
You groaned, “Lisa, trust me, I know—”
“—Our dear Traveler confessed to you ages ago. When was it when Aether helped us with Stormterror? He’s in Fontaine now!” Lisa looked a little frazzled, her eyes wild. You were expecting her to chide you some more until you saw how her entire expression was sparkling. This felt foreboding, somehow. “He keeps visiting to see you! After all these years of you foolishly rejecting him—”
“I didn’t reject him!”
Lisa hummed thoughtfully. “Oh, but isn’t that exactly what you’re doing?”
You were not rejecting Aether. You didn’t outright tell him you’re not interested because you are. He had been haunting your thoughts since you first laid eyes on him, returning from battle, cold breath billowing from his mouth, a pixie by his side, his hair aglow gold, Festering Desire in hand—and, oh, you desired him. It reached a point where Albedo himself had to ask if you wanted a check-up from how much you were burning with want.
Aether had grinned at you so brightly, and you damn near melted on the spot, even in the unrelentingly bitter weather of Dragonspine.
You found yourself liking him for more than his quite literally alien nature, his out-of-this-world body, and his abilities that had your hands itching to reach for a pen and paper to write down everything about him and figure out what the hell he was. Instead, you started falling for him as just Aether. His boyish smile, his witty jabs, his glimpses of personality.
And then he confessed to you—you, no one but one of Albedo’s assistants—and said he likes you, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to say anything at the time. You thought of him leaving one day, and then you just couldn’t say the yes that was chanting in your brain.
To no one’s surprise, he did leave. Not to that extent yet, but away from Mondsadt. Even in Liyue, Inazuma, Sumeru, and Fontaine, he invaded your thoughts as if cursing you for not saying what you were thinking. You could only wish he thought of you just as much as you did to him. Maybe he’d end up hating you, and not loving him would be easier.
“Are you kidding?” If it were so easy, you would’ve already jumped in his arms and kissed him breathlessly. “He’s—he’s not like us. He doesn’t belong here. He’d leave, eventually. Just like he always does with the other worlds.”
“Is that what’s stopping you?”
“That’s reason enough to be stopping me,” you said sharply. “He’s got millions of worlds to flirt with as he pleases, and this is my only one. Who knows if Aether is the type to even visit?”
Lisa crossed her arms. “Maybe you should ask. Communication is key.”
“Even if that was the case, I can’t handle it. I already miss him enough while he’s still in Teyvat—I don’t know how I could live with myself if I let him into my heart, and he’s a world away.”
“You’ve already let him in your heart,” Lisa said softly. “Just talk to him, alright? I’m not the only one worried about you when you drive yourself to a corner like this—especially over a boy!”
“I’m perfectly alright,” you said, ignoring Lisa’s amused smile. “I’m not losing my mind. Especially over a boy.”
You definitely were losing your mind. That boy was Aether; how could you not?
“I think it’s adorable,” Lisa cooed, cupping her cheeks and sighing dreamily. “He’s still waiting patiently. Who knew the Traveler would be so willing to wait for love?”
You wished that it wasn’t like that.
“Y/N! Are you here?”
Crap. Did you fall asleep in your office again? Might as well stop paying rent if this was going to be a recurring thing.
Once again, by routine at this point, you threw your notes that had Aether’s face inked by the edges. Memory be damned, You couldn’t let anyone see how detailed your drawings of Aether are.
“Y/N?” The voice rang out again, and it sounded more familiar now.
You went to open the door and frowned. “Lisa? It’s so early—did something happen?”
Lisa smiled in greeting, so beautifully devious with what she was about to say: “Our Honorary Knight is back in town!”
“Did you come all the way here just to tell me that?” Were people just seeing you as one of Aether’s admirers?
“Of course not,” Lisa chuckled, patting your head. How did she look so good this early in the morning? “He’s sick and needs someone to look after him.”
You wanted to close the door. You wanted to crawl back to your desk and go to sleep, but she had that look in her eye—one that told you that you had something to do with where she was going. And you did not like where this was going.
“So?” Dammit. You really wanted to see Aether again.
“Why, who else better to take care than his dearest alchemist?”
“Albedo is everyone’s alchemist. Sucrose is everyone’s dearest alchemist.”
Lisa shushed you. Why was she so invested in this? “No, no, his. Not everyone’s.”
You felt your face burn at the thought of being his dearest alchemist. Or anything his. “Absolutely not! Wasn’t he in Fontaine just yesterday?”
“Why don’t you go ask him that yourself?”
You scowled. You weren’t agreeable in the mornings. “How did you even know about this?”
Lisa smirked, poking your nose. “Because he asked for you, specifically.”
You laughed dryly—good one.
“I won’t let you do anything you wouldn’t want,” Lisa said seriously, “but would you change your mind if I told you that it’s Aether that wants you?”
And so you ended up in Aether’s teapot, which was hanging around Jean’s office for safety. Jean only smiled knowingly when you knocked on the door and zipped straight to the teapot. You were only doing this on the off-chance that Lisa was telling the truth and that Aether demanded he didn’t want anyone else but you checking up on him.
His teapot was familiar. You had been here a few times, but you didn’t have your own room. That was too embarrassing to ask, no matter how much Aether suggested it.
“Y/N!” Aether lit up the moment you entered the room.
“Aether,” you greeted, and as much as you wanted to hide it, a smile bloomed on your lips. It was hard not to smile when Aether was looking at you like that.
He looked like a mess, with strands of hair spread all over his pillows. His blanket was only up to his hips, showing that he was out of his usual look, and wore a simple white shirt. You were grateful for that shirt; you didn’t want to end up helping Aether strip because he definitely would have suggested that.
“I’m sick,” Aether whined. “Tend to me.”
You would’ve doubted his fever, but it was worryingly hot when you reached out to check his forehead’s temperature.
Immediately, your suspicions fly out the window. Aether was burning, and you were the only one in the same room (teapot?) who should take care of him. The Honorary Knight was reduced to a fever.
You cupped his cheek and watched as Aether pressed his face closer. “Does your head hurt?”
“Yes.”
You tore your hand off. “I’ll make something to ease the pain.”
“You can ease it right now. By kissing it away.”
“Aether,” you sighed. Unbelievable. How did he still have enough energy for this while positively rotting on his bed? “Take this seriously. I haven’t seen you this sick— Actually, this is the first time I’ve ever seen you sick. How did this even happen?”
“Stayed too long underwater,” he said.
Aether? Getting sick from swimming? You made a face, which Aether laughed softly at.
“No, seriously. It was an emergency commission. Even when I had to resurface, it was pouring. Someone was making the Hydro Dragon cry hard yesterday.” Aether’s face scrunched as he looked up at you with round eyes. “I was so cold.”
Although it sounded absurd that Aether would get a fever from that, you suppose that having to stay drenched for a long time would affect even someone like him. You couldn’t even imagine having to shiver your way back to Mondstadt after being thoroughly drenched the whole day.
You pulled the blanket further up Aether’s chest. Even if you suspected he was lying, he was trembling underneath the covers.
“Alright.” You’ll believe him because right now, it is a fact that Aether is undoubtedly sick.
You were well aware that he was and sounded like he was dying, but he looked cute, flushed, and staring at you expectantly. It felt nice to be needed by someone like him—made him feel less like a faraway dream.
You cleared your throat and looked away; you knew you looked flustered. “Have you eaten yet?”
“Why? Will you cook for me?” he asked.
You knew how to cook, but for someone who had traveled regions and tasted all kinds of foods, you would probably disappoint. Still, it wasn’t time for a competition with other chefs in Liyue or Fontaine. Aether needed food to fill his stomach.
“Any suggestions?” You hoped for nothing unfamiliar and crazy. You loved Aether, but having to fetch ingredients from oceans away was too much.
“Make it with love,” Aether said cheekily because he was a bastard who didn’t have any mercy on your heart.
And so you left the room and ignored Aether, laughing and coughing as he called after you. You had to leave either way—your chest was almost as warm as Aether’s forehead.
You decided to make a Radish Veggie Soup. You hoped Aether wasn’t too picky about his vegetables. The water was comfortably cold, enough to make you search around his cupboards for towels to soak it into. As you waited for the water to boil, you decided to check up on Aether again.
He was still lying there, but with his eyes closed now. You felt terrible seeing someone you witnessed defeat dragons battling a fever. You drew closer and placed the towel on his head. He didn’t flinch at the stark change of temperature, but he did react instantly, his warm hand clasping your wrist.
“Stay,” Aether rasped.
You bit your lip, your heart sinking. Was he dreaming about his sister? You always worried when he was feeling down because of their separation.
But then his eyes opened, and he stared right at you. “Y/N,” he said, “please stay.”
“I can’t.”
“Just this once.” Aether’s voice sounded so quiet, so unsure of himself.
You really couldn’t. You had a Radish Veggie Soup to attend to.
“I’m staying,” Aether said, and you had a feeling he wasn’t talking about the bed. “I’m staying here for you.”
You frowned. “Don’t lie to make me feel better right now. That would hurt more when you have to leave.”
Aether’s face softened impossibly. “I’m not lying. I’m telling you the truth—I’m not leaving Teyvat. Even if I find my sister, I’m staying.”
Seriously? Just like that? “What made you change your mind?”
You couldn’t tell if Aether was blushing or if it was his fever. “How could I leave Teyvat when I see how cute you look taking care of me?”
You threw a pillow to his face.
He swerved away and laughed brightly. “I’m joking! I’m joking—drop that pillow, please. I’m kidding. Well, sort of.”
His face was once again attempted to get assaulted by another pillow. Aether grinned as he blocked it off with an arm.
“For someone so sick, you seem awfully lively,” you said, eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“You breathe life into me; what can I say?”
You groaned. You couldn’t deal with this today—you needed at least three business days to process this and find another reason to reject him. Yet, as you moved to get some fresh air (anything to get Aether’s stupid face out of your view), a hand abruptly reached for your wrist.
Aether’s face was close to yours in a blink of an eye. His breath was hot on your face. “I’m serious,” he said, “so if— if you feel the same way, the least you can do is stay, too.”
“I— You—” You gaped at him. That sounded like it could be a proposal. Who would’ve thought—the Outlander, the Traveler, begging for you to stay?
Aether’s gaze flicked to your lips.
“Don’t kiss me,” you said in warning. “Are you an idiot? You’re sick!”
“That’s fine. I get to take care of you when you do,” Aether said.
Your face paled. “No! I have a job, Aether—”
Aether frowned. “And I have a world to save, but that can wait. We’re busy.”
You pushed his face away, his laugh smothered by your palm. “No, we are not. I’m busy making food for your sorry ass, away from you.”
Aether’s face crumpled. “Do you actually not want to kiss?”
Not when he’s sick and snotty, yeah.
Instead, you leaned in to kiss his forehead to make up for it. It was brief and faint, but Aether looked satisfied, smiling softly when you pulled away. It would do for now.
“I’m staying,” you said. “So long as you do, too. I’ll stay with you.”
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THE SOUP TURNED OUT OKAY STILL. this is just how my mom takes care of me when im sick LOL but the idea of doing it to a sick aether was too good i had to write a fic about it. also i love angst about aether being the traveler aaghgh
thank u sm for reading. as always, lmk what u think and i hope u liked it!! <3
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Text
Coraline
Synopsis: Y/n’s childhood and history with her parents has always stayed a secret, and she likes it that way. Until a journalist reveals the truth, and everything seems to come crashing down at once.
young female driver reader x 2023 F1 grid
A/N: a few things for this fic: reader will be 20 years old, had driven for alpha tauri since the beginning of 2022, the 2022 is the same as the 2023 grid, and please look at the trigger warning below.
Trigger Warning: This fic contains abusive parents, talks of eating disorders, neglecting a kid, verbally abusing a kid, signs of depression, and a lot of hurtful comments in general. This fic is not meant to idolize or romanticize having abusive parents or depression. If anyone finds anything particularly disturbing with this fic, do not hesitate to let me know and I will fix it.
tagged: @treehouse-mouse
2023 was supposed to be a good season for Alpha Tauri. The cars looked good, your driver pairing was solid, and the hopes were high for your junior Red Bull team. You could only laugh at the naivety of it now.
Most of the season was exceptional; you and Yuki Tsunoda brought in points almost every weekend, your team was seventh in the constructors championship, and overall, you were having a great time traveling around the world.
This was your second year in Formula 1, and now that you weren’t a rookie anymore, you could have more fun now that you knew what you were doing.
Some people just don’t like others being happy, though.
With less than 10 races left, you walked into the paddock for the Monza Grand Prix Thursday afternoon feeling optimistic. This was the second race after the summer break, and Alpha Tauri was expected to do well in Italy.
Your press officer, Ally, greeted you in your garage, and after saying hello to Yuki, you followed her out of the garage and into the media pen for a press conference.
You walk in to see Lewis, Carlos, Lando, and Fernando and talked quietly with them as the press in front of you get settled. “Everybody ready? All right, first question please” One of the directors asks, as a journalists speaks up.
“Lewis, you’ve witnessed the infamous ‘Monza Curse’ multiple times in your career, do you think the theory is true and will it strike again this year?”
“Um, no” Lewis chuckles. “I don’t believe in the curse, but it would be nice to see someone new finish first today, and if a curse is what it’s going to take, then yeah, why not”
The five of you laugh, not noticing the second journalist beginning to speak. “Y/n, what do you have to say about the recent article published regarding your past with your family?”
You instantly stop laughing, hoping you misheard the man.
“Sorry?”
There’s no way
“The article? That was recently published concerning your past with your parents, what do you have to say about it?” The journalist stared at you curiously while your mind blanked for an answer.
You had no idea what article he was talking about, but if it concerned your past with your ‘family’, you knew it wasn’t anything that should be published.
Suddenly there’s movement in the midst of the media pen, and your press officer emerges from the crowd. “Y/n, come with me” She pauses, seeing one of the directors nearing out of the corner of her eye.
“It’s urgent, I need her” You’d take any excuse to get away from the current situation, so after exchanging a look with Lewis, you follow the woman into the paddock towards your garage.
Once you were both in the safety of your drivers room, you turned on her. “What article is he talking about? What’s going on?” You said, voice heavy with concern.
Ally hesitated, looking uncomfortable, before answering. “This morning, an article published a story talking about you and your parents, and the-um, harsh history you have with them” She hands you her phone, said article already open.
“I think it’s better if you read it yourself” The bold letters blink up at you, clear and sullen.
“F1 DRIVERS UNCOVERED: THE REAL REASON WE DON’T SEE Y/N L/N’S PARENTS”
Your heart falls to your stomach and your hands start to shake as your eyes skim over the words of the most invading and overwhelming article you’ve ever read in your life. Whoever wrote this, wrote it in hopes of exposing every secret of your past, and further tangles the truth of an already over-complicated background.
The real reason your parents are never around you is a reason you hate talking about.
You first realized it when you were around ten years old, the way your parents never looked happy around each other, and always tense around other parents. The way they never said ‘I love you’ or kissed each other goodbye. It confused you, as these were the things you always saw your friend’s parents do, but you were too young to understand at the time, so you mainly ignored it.
It wasn’t until one night when you were eleven that you heard an argument erupting from your kitchen, one about money and divorces and you. The shouting continued for ages, until you heard one statement, loud and clear.
“Think about this, she’s getting good in those karting competitions of hers, and according to other parents she could go really far in this thing and get money from sponsorships and mentors. So let’s just give it a little time, make sure she gets better and gets paid, and the money will go to us and eventually she’ll leave to Formula- whatever and we won’t have to worry about her”
You put your pillow over your head, turned around, and went to sleep sobbing that night.
From then on, there was no ‘I love you’s’ or kisses goodbye even to you, and eventually, no happiness in your house. The ‘other parents’ were right, the older you got, the farther you looked to go in racing. Just before you turned 13, the three of you moved to a city in England so you could pursue karting further, and that’s when it all got worse.
You competed in countless competitions, and every race you won, the more criticism you got from your mom and dad. The second you stepped off the 1st place podium, your parents were waiting to comment on your driving and the techniques you should’ve used to win.
They never let you focus on anything but karting, letting you go nowhere but the track and to school, and made sure you were always looking for ways to get better. They ruthlessly compared you to kids in other series that were performing better than you, and countered every compliment someone gave you with a complaint.
All of this seemed like a dream compared to the treatment you got when you lost. Whether it be second, or tenth, every race you didn’t come first in was a loss, and your parents simply didn’t accept this.
When you lost, they’d make you practice on track for twice as long, no matter the weather, and berated you the second you started to complain. They limited your diet after your losses, claiming you needed to be lighter if you wanted the kart to go faster.
Your mother and father gave you this relentless attention with anything regarding racing, but the moment the topic drifted, you were neglected. There were no family dinners or movie nights, if you wanted something, you were going to have to buy it with your own money, and if you wanted to go somewhere, you needed to walk or find a ride because they refused to drive you anywhere if it wasn’t for a race.
There was no other family to go to even when things go impossibly rougher; you had no other relatives in the UK, and you couldn’t exactly ask your friends if you could live with them.
So you endured these conditions, all the way through the F4 British Championship, F3 and F2. You turned 18 while you were in Formula 2, and the second you did, you took the little money you had, and rented an apartment in South England, where you’ve been living ever since.
Your parents constantly contacted you in whatever ways they could, but you very quickly made sure they didn’t know where you lived and were never given paddock passes again. No one knows any of this anyway; when people ask where your parents are or when they’d get to meet them, you just shrug and say, “they couldn’t make it”
You haven’t seen your parents in person since you were 17, and you’ve done everything in your power to keep it like that.
Though with a few thousand words and 4 hours, one nosy journalist has managed to unravel all your work and growth and release it into the world.
You’re broken out of your stunned silence when Ally puts a hand on your shoulder. “I’ve set up a meeting with Alpha Tauri and Red Bull’s PR managers so we could figure out what we should do next to keep the press off your back, okay? The meeting’s in fifteen meetings, so I’ll leave you for a while”
Ally takes her phone back and exits the room to leave you standing still in the middle of it, astonished and speechless.
The meeting goes as well as you expected it to go. You shared as much as the truth as you saw fit, and came up with a statement to post with the rest of the PR managers. You were confirmed to go back to the media pen to finish interviews an hour later, and while no one asked you about the article, you could tell it was the unanswered question they all wanted to raise.
You are able to avoid most of the press of the remaining of the Italian weekend, and stuck to answering race-related questions only, your safest and only option, Ally told you later. You finished the Grand Prix P10, and flew home still sullen.
You spent the two weeks in between Monza and Japan in your apartment, regretfully thinking about all those years you had to spend under your parent’s treatment, and trying to forget them with simulator work.
You arrive in Suzuka, quiet and unsmiling, and try to ignore the shouting of the press that greets you on your way into the paddock. Ally guides you away as two new voices greet you.
“Hey Y/n, how are you?” Lewis asks, pulling you into a side hug and stepping into place beside you.
“Are you okay? You seem off” Charles says concerned, meeting you in a handshake.
“I’m fine, my flight just got in late last night so I’m tired, that’s all” You half smiled in response, hoping it was believable enough.
“Sure?” Lewis presses father. “Yeah, I’m okay” You nod.
“Okay, well, we’re still going into the city after media today?” Lewis asks. “Of course, I’ll meet you guys at my hotel after” You assure as you near the Alpha Tauri garage.
“See you then, and try to sleep a bit, yes?” Charles says before the two men walk off together.
Your friendship with the two drivers started because of the Spanish and British Grand Prix’s, the two races that gave you your two highest race finishes, and ended with two of your closest friends. Spain was a great race for both you and Lewis, yourself in P4, him in P2, and after non-stop talking in the paddock, you flew back to the UK together, effectively starting the friendship existing today.
You’d been friendly with Charles previously, but after his P9 finish in Silverstone and your P5 finish, he realized in a conversation before an interview that you were undeniably good at cheering people up, and you guys have been close since.
You’ve talked with them since Monza, of course, but not about the article. They want to talk to you about it, you can tell, but Charles and Lewis aren’t the type of people to just come right out and ask if you’re feeling okay about your history with your abusive parents being exposed to the world.
They also don’t want to pressure you into talking about something you clearly don’t want to talk about, so if all they can do is help distract you from the media, they’re going to.
Your night out with the Mercedes and Ferrari drivers does distract you; Lewis leads you and Charles to different shops and restaurants all over Suzuka, talking and laughing the entire time. You take a few photos along the way, and you go back to your hotel still smiling.
You kept your good mood until qualifying on Saturday, and are brought back into the reality of racing when you only manage P11. It’s technically not bad of a result for your car, but P9 or P8 would’ve been better right now, because all you can think about is what your parents would’ve said if you finished P11.
They’re paying you millions of dollars to race for them and the best you can do is eleventh?
You think you deserve to be here?
They are hundreds of other drivers that would do so much better than you
You are nothing compared to the other drivers
You’re lucky if you keep you seat next season, I know I wouldn’t let a P11 driver on my team
You go quiet at the thought, and get through post-race media stoic. You leave with your trainer as soon as you can, avoiding Lewis and Charles’s eyes on your way out. You have a week before you have to leave for Qatar, and spend a countless amount of hours on your simulator, hoping this time it’ll make a difference.
You flew into Lusail not knowing what to expect other than hot weather, and unfortunately you were right. You felt the heat as soon as you got in your car for FP1 on Friday and was already dreading the rest of the weekend.
You qualify P11 for both the race and the sprint, and end up in P12 for the two. You felt terrible after Sunday’s race, both physically and mentally, and you’re already berating yourself for your performance by the time you get weighed.
Charles and Lewis are in your post-race press conference group, and you can see them exchange a look after every cold and detached answer you give. You only stop to talk to your friends for a few minutes afterwards before you excuse yourself to go cool down, and leave minutes later with the defense of needing rest.
You fly back to the UK with Lewis, and you’re glad the two of you are asleep for most of the trip so Lewis won’t ask you to talk about why you’ve been so quiet.
The 10 days you have until you fly out to Austin are spent mostly on your phone, looking at all the comments people have been making about you since the article came out, saying how you probably deserved the treatment that you got, and how Alpha Tauri needs a more “stable” driver if they want to advance in the championship.
You don’t do much except exercise and train on the sim in those days, finding neither the desire or energy to do anything else.
Even though everyone is happy to be in Texas that week, you can’t find the energy to truly smile once that weekend. Charles and Lewis are practically stuck to your side, and even though you can tell they’re dying to ask you to talk about it, they only ask a few times if you wanted to tell them something, and when you denied, and simply offered companionship through silence.
It’s another sprint race, and you only pull off P12 and 13 for qualifying and the shootout, and drop a place by the end of both races.
You feel more frustrated with yourself than ever; you don’t understand why you can’t work with the car like you once used to, and you can’t even figure out how to again. You were doing so well until that fucking article came out, and all the sudden you don’t know how to drive.
The worst part about it is that every race, more and more people are realizing how you’ve been under-performing, and how people are starting to question your ability to drive for the junior Red Bull team.
You aren’t stupid, you know how things work at Red Bull, so you know that if you don’t pick your pace up soon, you could end up without a seat for the 2024 season.
This thought alone starts to destroy you, and soon you can’t even deny how burnt out you are. You pick up on the forced habit of not eating much, and making yourself to do nothing but train and look for ways to be better.
You spend the days before Mexico with data analysts and strategists, looking for any and every way to go faster. You dedicate too much time looking at successful F2 drivers, hearing Liam Lawson’s name come up too much for comfort, thinking about how Dennis Hauger had been looking fast in F2.
It’s a terribly unhealthy time killer, one that makes you look sick and go quiet. Charles and Lewis aren’t the only ones exchanging concerned looks now; multiple other drivers on the grid, friends with you or not, notice the change in your behavior and quickly grow worried when they hear Yuki’s description of you.
The drivers aren’t stupid either, they all know about the article that was published in September, and most of them would be lying if they said they hadn’t looked at it in curiosity. They’d also be lying if they saw their eyes didn’t widen in concern or eyebrows didn’t furrow with worry when they read how terrible your parents treated you.
The grid saw how the comments got nastier and nastier under your lessening social media posts every day, and even asked your PR officer multiple times to make sure she was managing your accounts and making sure you didn’t see what people had to say about your background or yourself.
They saw how you got quieter every race, how you stopped hanging out with Yuki and Charles and Lewis, no matter how many times they offered. They saw the rumors of you and your 2024 seat, how apparently Helmut Marko was paying close attention to you and the clauses in your contract.
They asked a lot, if you wanted to talk or if they could help in any way. It was always the same response; a weary smile, a small shake of the head, the words,“No, I’m fine, just tired” and an excuse that you were needed in your garage or media pen.
So they try to help in more discreet ways; when Yuki is asked about your position on Alpha Tauri or your future with Red Bull, he calmly assures that you are working hard with the team, and is doing everything possible to understand the car.
Charles, Lewis, and a few other drivers make a routine of coming to your driver’s room, most of the time just to sit with you as you look at data, or talk with you when you’re feeling up to it.
Mexico goes somehow worse than Texas, and you finish with your lowest result in F1 yet, P15. You try to be as approachable as possible in post-race media, but your sullen face gives you away.
You leave with Ally and your trainer to catch your flight to Brazil mere hours after you passed the checkered flag, and spend most of your time in Sau Paulo alone in your hotel room, replaying every hurtful comment either your mother and father or fans have said about you, and debating whether or not it was true.
You walk into the Brazilian paddock Thursday morning more grateful than you thought possible that this was the third-to-last race of your season.
And according to over twenty media sources, your third-to last race of F1.
After a public statement made by Marko talking about how Red Bull was “considering your future with their junior team” every journalist in the F1 community has decided that it means this was your last season in F1.
And honestly, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Whether you raced in 2024 or not, you just wanted to go home and avoid the press for three months.
It was another sprint weekend, and another terrible qualifying and shootout. You placed 15th in both sessions and kept your place in the sprint, and spent a quiet Saturday evening in your hotel.
You could feel almost every journalists eye’s turn to you as soon as you walked into the paddock on Sunday. You arrived early that afternoon to get some extra data-stuff done, only now realizing that it gave the growing group of reporters behind you more time to ask you questions.
“Y/n! Can you tell us about your future in F1?”
“Will you have a seat next year?
“Y/n, what does Helmut Marko think about your decrease in performance?”
“Does your past with your parents have anything to do with your recent race results?”
You try to keep your face emotionless as you make your way into the Alpha Tauri garage and to your drivers room. You prepare for the race with your personal trainer and look over the arranged strategies for Sau Paulo while you wait for the go-ahead to get in your car.
Due to all the crashed-out cars, you ended the race in P12 in front of Oscar Piastri and Daniel Ricciardo. Statistically speaking, it was one of your better 2023 races, but everyone knows if it wasn’t for all the DNF’s, you’d finish in the bottom five.
You know that everyone knows this because just before you walked into the media pen after your race debrief, you saw Christian Horner and Marko speaking to your team principle, and after Yuki’s P9 finish today, it didn’t take you even a second to understand who they were talking about with disappointed faces and multiple shakes of the head.
Sure, this could mean nothing. This could just be a conversation between the three people that control the top team and it’s junior team. But you also like to think you’re a bit smarter than that.
You walked deeper into the crowded area before the three could see you, and walked to the first open journalist you saw, in hopes of leaving early.
“Y/n, hi! Not too bad of a race for you today, I guess?” The man asked, pointing his microphone towards you
“Yeah, not too bad. The car felt pretty okay and there was a bit of pace, but not enough to overtake or anything, clearly” You reply.
“Can we expect more race pace from you in Las and Vegas and Abu Dhabi?”
“I mean, it’s a bit too early to tell, but we’ll hope and see what comes out out of the practices” The man nods before looking down at his notebook.
“And your seat for Alpha Tauri next year, we know you’re apart of the confirmed driver lineup for 2024 but Helmut Marko states that there are attainable clauses in your contract, what do you think about that?”
You’re caught off guard by the question, but right when you’re about to respond, the man continues.
“Surely, Alpha Tauri isn’t really considering keeping you for next season, are they?”
You’re standing in front of the man speechless now, your brain barely comprehending what’s being spoken.
“Because I know the last thing a team wants is an incapable driver that is too emotionally effected by her “traumatic” childhood to race,” the volume of his voice starts to increase, and other drivers are starting to focus on your one-sided conversation.
“I mean, c’mon, no one even believes that even happened to you, and if it did, your parents were probably right for doing it-”
Your hands are shaking, eyes are wide with shock, body suddenly freezing, and you don’t even think you’re breathing. All you can do is listen as this man goes on and on about how you’re a shitty driver and deserved how your parents treated you.
You’re only broken out of your trance when an arm clad in red wraps around your shoulders and pulls you through the paddock. You’re not even aware of the yelling from a certain Mercedes drivers gets quieter and quieter as you’re brought into your driver’s room.
You’re being sat on a couch, and suddenly Charles Leclerc’s face is right in front of you, hands on your shoulders and eyes filled with concerned. “Y/n? Y/n, look at me, please, Y/n-” Your eyes dart to him and in an instant, everything from the past five minutes comes rushing through your head, and you can’t stop the tears that start to fall down your face.
“Oh, Y/n” The Ferrari driver moves to comfort you, but stops as you begin to cover your face and move away.
“No, Y/n, it’s okay, please, let me help you, Y/n” Charles wraps his arms around you in a hug as your body begins to shake with uncontrollable sobs.
“I can’t- I can’t do this anymore, Charles” You say in between breaths.
“I have to quit or something, I can’t keep doing this Charles, I can’t” You let your head fall on his shoulder, as the man tries to calm you down.
Charles’ heart is breaking as he comforts his friend; he remembers loving his first few years in Formula 1, how everything was so new and exciting to him, he could never not want to race, not then and not now. But to hear one of his closest friends breakdown because of how much she hates being there, makes the man’s heart shatter.
The door abruptly opens, and for a moment, all you can hear is the low angry cursing of Lewis Hamilton, until he sees you and Charles, and his face immediately softens.
“Love, I’m so sorry. That guy is a complete arsehole, don’t listen to him” The British man says as he takes a seat beside you and wraps an arm around your shoulders.
“I don’t know what to do anymore, I feel so stuck in this place where everyone is always talking about what happened and I don’t know how much longer I can go through it” You say, your voice breaking off with another sob.
Charles hushes you once more, exchanging a worried look with Lewis as you pull away from him again. “I’m sorry, I know I should be doing better and everything but I just can’t-” You say, voice shaky through the tears.
“Don’t for one second be sorry that you’re not competitive right now. Y/n, thousands of people are talking about the one thing that hurt you the most, and I understand why you feel this way, just please, love, for your own good, let us help you. I promise it will make you feel better” Lewis assures, grabbing your hand.
So for the first time, you do. For over an hour, you tell Charles and Lewis everything that happened when you were younger, and how the article has made you feel since then. They listen quietly, nodding once in a while to let you know they understand, and gave you a hug when you stopped talking.
“Do you feel better now?” Lewis asks.
“Yeah, not entirely, but better”
“Good, that’s all I wanted to hear,”
“Are you ready to go home now? There’s a plane waiting for us, if you want”
“Definitely. I need to go home” You say as Charles helps pack up all your things and Lewis makes sure there’s a car waiting for you two outside. As you’re all walking through the nearly-empty paddock, Charles turns to you.
“I have to go back to my garage, but please Y/n, if you ever need to talk, call me? I want to help you, I don’t want to see you like this again” The Monegasque brings you into a hug.
“I know, Charles, I will” You promise.
“Okay, I’ll see you before Vegas, yes? Feel better!” He calls as he moves backwards and further into the paddock.
“You promise?”
Lewis asks you hours later in the front of the airport in England, just about to get into separate cars.
“Yes, Lewis, I’ll call when I need” You say to the older man in a hug.
“Alright, text me when you’ve made it home and make sure you get some rest. Don’t be too hard on yourself either, you don’t give yourself enough credit for everything you do” You smile at him.
“Okay, I’ll see you before Vegas?”
“See you before Vegas!” He shouts from his already-closed car door.
When you do see the two next, they make sure you’ve made an appointment with a therapist and are setting up a meeting with your PR manager to put together a statement in regards to your well-being the past two months.
Charles and Lewis make sure the media inside the paddock is severely monitored and checked before being allowed near the drivers, and help you fall back into healthier habits.
These changes don’t happen overnight, and they don’t take affect overnight, but you do use the winter off season to make sure these changes are helpful and working.
The three month break is utilized to mentally and physically prepare yorself in time for your 2024 seat at Alpha Tauri that was re-confirmed after your P8 finishes in Las Vegas and Abu Dhabi.
The media still knows everything, and you haven’t completely forgotten your childhood, you never will, but dealing with it still gets easier.
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vacayisland · 6 months
Note
LAST BUT NOT LEAST
Floyd x Motherly! Reader
Species and gender your choice- I’m just seeing reader is sweet, calm, mature. Calls everyone baby- always helpful. Maybe Floyd and reader are already dating? And reader calls Floyd the most embarrassing nicknames(sugarplum), number one fan-maybe some mortica vibes? Idk! You have fun with this one
@!; oh, Oh... Floyd / Motherly! Reader
"Summary"! Floyd loves you for many reasons, too many to count on his fingers or toes; too many to remember in one sitting when he's asked that simply question 'what do you love above them?'; too many to make a list of that won't expand pages and pages. Yet, he knows what he loves the most about you; you complete him in the best ways possible. "Tags"! say it with me... fluff, fluff, FLUFF!!, not proof read either :(
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@!; Floyd knew you before he got captured by Veneer and Velvet. He knew you from his travels around the world in an attempt to find himself after the group broke up. He actually found you in Lonesome Flats, despite not being a country troll (or maybe you were), leaning against the window inside a western building. You had been talking to Delta with such a bright smile, Floyd couldn't help but slow down his walk to stare at it; noticing to dimples on your cheeks, the way your eyes lit up as you spoke, and the passion in your voice. It was intoxicating. It drew him in. So hesitantly, he kept his distance but kept near your little building. He didn't mean to ease drop, yet he overheard your conversation: "So, anyone catch ya' eye yet, sweetheart?" Delta's country twang was more noticeable every time she decided to tease you about this subject. You knew she only wanted to see a reaction out of you. Though you couldn't help but smile at her, wafting off the scent of a plum pie you had just finished. "No, not yet, Ma'am." Your voice was soft, a subtle hum to it that Floyd had caught. It made him choke up a bit, though he tried not to focus on that feeling. "Aw, come on, pickin's ain't that slim." Delta chuckled as she crossed her arms, grinning back at you. "And I know many fine Trolls who wouldn't waste takin' you out for dinner... and maybe some wilder ones who would take ya to a rodeo show."
And she winked, causing you to shake your head as you maintained your smile and composure. Despite being teased, Floyd could only describe you as calm and relaxed. Your shoulders weren't stiffened and you didn't crinkle your nose at anything Delta said; it was like her words didn't effect you, yet you were listening intently and responding to her accordingly. "Oh, yes Ma'am. I know that." As you softly laughed at Delta's attempted, you tested the pie's temperature and deemed it cool enough to cut. You took your knife and began to slice the pie into 12 even pieces. "Then let me set ya' up with someone!- Thank you, darlin'." You handed Delta a slice of pie as she spoke, knowing plum was her favorite. Quickly, you searched for a fork and then handed that to her too. She continued, "A pretty gal such as yourself shouldn't have to be kept waitin', though you do deserve your perfect someone." Oh, so you were a baker? Floyd noted that to himself, noticing that the pie that Delta was munching on as you spoke seemed to have some personal touches. Such as some honey baked into the plums, the crust being a little more golden than pies in the Pop Troll village, as well as some sugar that had crystalized at the top. It looked delicious... and it made his stomach growl. Floyd didn't think his stomach actually growled, he didn't catch it. Thus he was both startled and confused when you turned your attention over to him, your soft eyes matching the soft nature you carried yourself. "Are ya' hungry?" Floyd covered his stomach with his arm, a bit self conscious as you called him out. But he didn't feel called out; in an odd way he felt seen. Delta soon turned her attention over to Floyd while taking a bite of the pie. She held up the plate with a grin, "Come on, don't be shy, bumpkin'! Our Miss (Y/N) is the best baker in town and you won't find talent like this; She's like a needle in a hay stack, she is." "Oh, um.. okay." Floyd walked over to the window, noticing how your grin grew slightly larger and your eyes seemed to catch this sparkle in them. You grabbed him a plate, a slice of pie, and a fork almost instantly and placed it on your window ceil for him. "Here ya' go!" Service with a smile. Yet Floyd patted his pockets, and even dug around in them, for something to give you in exchange for the generous slice of pie. He fell short, "Oh- um, I don't have anything-" "Oh don't worry about payment, sugarplum!" Your words caught Floyd off guard, his round eyes shot up to meet yours. "Baking is just a hobby, I don't ask for anything in return; well, other than friends with full bellies and big grins. Seeing people enjoying my baking is enough payment for me." Floyd had kind of believed in love at first sight; but he didn't realize it actually could happen.
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@!; Sometime after Floyd first meeting you and before he got captured, Floyd had confessed his feelings to you. Confessed that he had loved you since he saw you that first day when you gave him a plum pie. Confessed that he adored everything about you; he adored your laugh and your smile; he adored the way you worried about him, but not in an overpowering way, the way you always were there for him, the way that he could come back to you at the end of the day and you will be waiting with open arms. He adored the way you mothered him a little. Not in the way a mother would actually mother their children, yet in the way you were so caring and compassionate, while being sensible and calm made his heart beat out of his chest. You were perfect in every way, shape, and form. He loved you so much it hurt him more to imagine what you were going through when he had gotten captured by Velvet and Veneer. It was complete anguish to think about you sitting on the couch by the door in the little home you two made, waiting for him to only go on days without anything to report. It choked him up to think he could be the reason you were hurting at this moment. But he just hoped you could wait a little longer, hold out a little more, (you always had managed to, though it burns him to think to ask this of you) for him; and he will take everything just to be able to return back home to you again at the end of the day. One day. one day. Until that day, please.. please hold out. Please don't cry like he is.
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@!; The day that Floyd was rescued by his brothers, and Poppy and Viva, after the initial shock wore off his first and only thought was you. It filled his head and he couldn't ignored the thoughts that piled up because everything in his body was screaming for you. For your touch and comfort and he couldn't help but blurt out, "We need to go to Lonesome Flats. Now!" Which got a lot of weird looks from his brothers; mainly Clay, Spruce, and JD looking around wondering what and where 'Lonesome Flats' was while Branch was just plain confused, maybe even a little hurt. Floyd didn't mean to hurt Branch, or any of his brothers by this request, but he needed to make sure you knew he was okay. "The country troll region?" Poppy questioned as she walked over to Branch's side. She tilted her head to the side, "Why do you need to go there?" "Yeah! Why do you need to go there? We just got you back, Floyd." Branch seemed stand-offish by this request, crossing his arms and scrunching his nose a little. Floyd understood where Branch was coming from, he did almost just die in front of all his brothers, but surely they would understand? "Please, just trust me. I.. I need to get back there." Floyd pleaded with his brothers, "I'll explain everything there or on the way. We just- we need to go now! The sooner the better.." And despite everyone's confusion, and unsureness about this all, it was a family road trip to Lonesome Flats. Where, when they finally arrived, Floyd rushed out of the van towards your little bakery. He slowed a bit seeing the window shut and your door not propped open. His eyes widened when he read the sign attached: Closed. But it was your usual opening time, what.. where were you? "There ya' are!" Floyd wiped around hearing Delta's voice. He didn't catch her unfriendly tone at first, though registered it as soon as he caught her face. Still, that didn't stop him, "Delta! Where is (Y/N)?" "More important, where have you been? You've been gone longer than our grazin' cattle, and they returned a month ago!" Delta crossed her arms and let out a huff of annoyance. "You've got your poor-" Though Delta didn't make it far before Floyd saw an all too familiar person out of the corner of his eye. You always managed to steal his attention, and his brothers were even more confused upon seeing Floyd rush over to you; despite stumbling a little bit on his starting sprint due to the lack of energy he has. "Floyd!" Branch called after his brother, just wanting him to be careful. Yet he froze upon feeling Poppy's hand on his shoulder, hearing a small 'aww' escape her lips as she watched Floyd literally jump into your arms. You had noticed him as he ran towards you, and despite carrying a bucket of fresh milk, you dropped it quickly to catch him. Which, was a good idea, since you didn't expect him to cause you to stumble a little. Even so, you laughed as Floyd hid his face in your shoulder feeling your arms tightly hug him. Your hugs were always warm, best described as momma bear hugs. Floyd had missed them and you. He had missed your warmth and your laugh.
"Oh Sugarplum, what happened?" And he missed your gentle nature and calm tone, despite everything he probably put you through after he left. You were gentle as you placed your hands on his shoulders and backed him up a little, so you were looking at each other eye to eye. Floyd couldn't even get a word out before you noticed everything different about him, "Oh my dear.. you look tired! Skinner, and your hair-! Oh my lord, what in the Trollstice happened to your hair, Sugarplum?!" Floyd now had his back facing you, as you had spun him around. Oh, Floyd could just melt at this moment, feeling your hands run through his hair as you took in all the whites that now mingled with the hot pink. He knew you were more used to his darker roots, and not like these whites were natural but he thought they suited him a little more now. Though, just as Floyd was about to answer you, he caught sight of his brothers and the plus ones. And at that moment, wide wide, he knew he had a lot of explaining to do to his brothers...
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@!; It wasn't like Floyd was embarrassed of you, far from it, yet when you had him up and about dancing to Brozone.. it caused his cheeks to flush; from both embarrassment and lovingly. It had been a few months after he introduced you to the family, and he was glad his brothers had taken to you like he did and accepted you into the family. Branch was a little on the nose, but he came around.
Now, after a Brozone featured show, the both of you were dancing like crazy people to an old Brozone soundtrack in Poppy's pod. Poppy was trying to get Branch to dance with her while Clay was trying not to give into Viva's silliness.
Bruce was sitting on some chairs with JD, chatting and making fun of the younger brothers; as it was their bug brother duty to.
"Are you tired yet, sugarplum?" JD snickered as he called over to Floyd and you, his hand cupped to the side of his mouth to allow his voice to carry over the record player. Floyd grumbled a little at his brother's antics and tried to chuckle it off, maybe even shoot something back.
Yet he didn't even have to!- "What's wrong with me calling him Sugarplum, John?" Oh. Poppy paused in her pursuit and glanced over to JD with pressed lips and wide eyes, a silent question of what did he just do?
Clay and Branch both seemed to stop as well, Viva being soon to follow. Since meeting, you had never called anyone by their name. It had always been some cute nickname, such as baby or love or princess. Something motherly that made people's hearts warm upon hearing the nickname roll off your tongue with such affection and ease.
Even Floyd has barely ever heard you call anyone by their first name, that was unless they were in trouble. He decided to turn down the record player a little, just so you didn't have to talk over the music.
"Nothing!-" JD put up his hands at once, "It's just-"
"Just what? You wanna tease my darlin' for my decision in calling him sugarplum? Aren't you supposed to be the eldest brother?" You kept Floyd's hands in yours as you cocked an eyebrow up at JD, your eyes narrowing in his direction. Bruce had turned away, silently drinking his milkshake.
"No of course not-" JD started again, though didn't get far before you flashed a bright smile at him.
"Phew! For a second you have me worried there, dumplin'. Thought you were really striking that low!" And JD stared at you and your sudden switch of mood, wondering if he was seeing things or if he wasn't going insane. Either or, you gave Floyd a kiss on the forehead and turned your attention back to him.
"You still have the energy to dance with me, Sugarplum?"
And Floyd swore he fell deeper in love with you, if that was even possible at this point. "With you? Always."
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minarisplaything · 3 months
Text
Tour Break ft. Lisa and Jennie
pairings: Jennie Kim/M!OC, Lisa/M!OC rating: Explicit word count: 3.7k summary: A few months have passed since your last encounter with Jennie. When a tour stop brings the girls near your university, they decide to pay you a visit. PART ONE HERE. tags: size kink, semi-public sex, stomach bulge, rough sex, footjob A/N: may have gotten a bit carried away. hope yall enjoy!
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After that night with Jennie, the following weeks leading up to their tour changed for you completely. Instead of preparing to go off to university, you began spending more time with your sister and her friends. It was an effective way to lose that embarrassed little sibling complex. Mostly though, it was because being around them offered more chances for Jennie and you to sneak off and fool around.
And boy did you two fool around. You had to have easily been the luckiest person in the country during that time. Eventually, though, it came to a close as they went back on tour and you went off to university.
You kept in touch through texts and sneaking in the occasional FaceTime when possible, but it wasn't until the end of your spring term that you got to see them again. It wasn't even a personal visit; it just so happened they were playing at the local stadium near your university.
You had received a text from Jisoo that you were to meet them for lunch later in the day. As happy as you were to see your sister, you found yourself anxious to see Jennie. It had been more than a few months now. Would she still be interested in your arrangement? Would she still be interested in you, or had the thrill disappeared? You supposed there was only one way to find out.
You walked through the front doors of the restaurant you were to meet them at, and the hostess led you to the table where they were waiting. Immediately, you were greeted with high-pitched voices and limbs swallowing you into hugs.
Okay, maybe you hadn’t completely gotten rid of the little sibling complex.
"You look so different with all that scruff!" Rosie exclaimed, running a hand over your chin, her fingers brushing against your stubble. “I bet all the girls on campus fall for this.”
“I do alright for myself,” you joked.
Some light-hearted laughter echoed in the restaurant and you found yourself scratching the back of your neck as you stole a look at Jennie. As everyone took their seats you placed yourself next to Jisoo and across from Jennie. You stole another glance at her but, to your disappointment, she seemed to be acting completely normal.
Of course she was, you silently chastised yourself, Did you expect her to suck your dick right in front of Jisoo?
“I want to hear all about it. How has your first year been?” Jisoo questioned, placing her chin on her hands.
"Really? You guys have been traveling the world and you want to hear about how school has been?" you asked.
"Duh! And make sure you leave in all the dirty details," Lisa chimed in, a smirk on her features.
"I think we can do without that part," Jisoo said, her face scrunching up.
"Speak for yourself!" Lisa retorted.
Her words earned laughter from everyone except Jisoo, and you felt yourself slowly beginning to relax. Among her many talents, you found that Lisa was an expert at lightening the mood in any given situation.
"Where do I begin..."
You proceeded to recount the events that had occurred in your first semesters at university. The parties - which Lisa seemed particularly interested in hearing about - the friends, your classes, and even the few girls you had what could loosely be called relationships with. Though admittedly, you might have intentionally overplayed those stories. Judging by the way Jennie’s expression subtly shifted when you told the stories, it had worked. Or, you hoped it had.
Christ, you were getting bold. Playing games with one of the most desired women on the planet?
"Wow, I can’t believe my baby brother is sounding like an adult," Jisoo said, placing a hand on yours as you finished. "You’re practically a man now."
You scoffed before pulling your hand away teasingly. "God, when did you get so sentimental?"
She laughed, hitting your arm playfully before turning back to the group.
"To be fair, I think he’s been a man for a while now," Jennie spoke up for the first time, her gaze zeroing in on yours.
You played it off with a laugh, but you could feel your face heating up. Beneath that, there was a tinge of fear. Was this payback for provoking her? It had to have been. Of course, Jennie had always been flirty, however where it had been innocent in the past, you now had a history. If it could be called that. And you weren’t exactly sure how Jisoo would react to that history. But you had prodded her, now you had to deal with whatever came next.
You took a sip of your drink, recovering your composure before changing the direction of the conversation. "So, how is the tour going? You guys are on the last leg right?"
There was a collective nod before Jisoo spoke, "It’s been wonderful. I really wish mom and dad would have let us take you to some of these places."
"Why do you say – THAT!?"
The last word came out almost as a high-pitched yelp and you immediately went into a coughing fit to try and mask it. Jisoo looked concerned, as did Rosie, while Lisa bore a smirk and Jennie seemed almost indifferent.
"Sorry, I must have gotten something stuck in my throat, go on," you coughed.
Jisoo patted you on the back to make sure you were okay before continuing her answer. You, however, were no longer listening. That was because there was currently a foot pressed against your inner thigh unbeknownst to anyone else. When you looked across the table, you had no doubt about who the culprit was.
Truth be told it was exhilarating and terrifying all at the same time. Jennie stared back at you, the slightest hint of a smirk on her lips. Her eyes, meanwhile, were practically daring you to react and say something. When you didn’t, you swore her smirk grew more bold, her foot pushing higher against your thigh.
"…Well, we did New York in December, it looks amazing…" Jisoo continued on.
You nodded your head, trying to remain focused as Jennie’s foot rubbed up your leg until she reached the height she wanted. Her toes curled slowly as she moved to press against your crotch. At this point, you were already starting to get hard and had to move your chair in more so Jisoo or Rosie wouldn’t see.
"How was the crowd overseas? Good?" you asked, trying to keep the conversation and any attention away from what was happening underneath the table.
"Oh, they were amazing," Jennie spoke. When you turned your attention to her, she was simply smiling as normal, despite that the sole of her foot was now rubbing your erect cock through your jeans. "There was so much excitement and energy. I literally felt like the crowd was just going to explode."
While the other girls just nodded in agreement, you closed your eyes briefly. Lisa began speaking but at this point, you were barely registering what any of them were saying. Jennie’s foot continued to jerk you off over your clothing, rubbing you as furiously as possible without being noticed. At one point, her toes pressed against your zipper and you wondered if she just might free your cock from its constraints. That would be terrible. So why did you want it to happen so badly?
“Are you okay?” Rosie asked, giving you a glance.
"Huh? Oh, yeah, you're fine. You just need a drink," you said, trying to give your best smile before sipping your water slightly. You could see Jennie smirking out of the corner of your eye. You still didn’t know what she was playing at but you also weren’t sure you cared at this point either.
Rosie gave you a concerned look but they soon carried on with telling their tour stories. Your mind, however, was focused somewhere else. Jennie’s toes had worked down the zipper of your pants and had slid inside just enough to allow more contact with your hard cock, her sole rubbing against the stiff length as she jerked you off.
You tried to keep yourself together. You really did. But eventually, it got to be too much and you leaned back in your chair. You tried to disguise it as simply stretching but judging by the look Jennie was giving you, you doubted that was how she took it. You felt the pre-cum dripping onto her feet as she continued her assault. Fuck, you were going to cum. There was no way you would be able to hold out much longer.
"Hey, are you okay?" Jisoo asked, turning to face me. "You look like you're burning up."
"Y-yeah, I'm fine. Maybe just a little hungry. Are the appetizers here yet?" you said, hoping your excuse would work.
"Actually, that's a good idea. I could go for some food too," Rosie chimed in.
"I'll check on the status," Jennie spoke up. "I need to use the ladies room anyway."
You let out a sigh of relief when Jennie's foot left your lap. But the relief was short-lived as you watched her stand up and make her way around the table. You held your breath, wondering if she would say anything but, instead, she placed a hand on my shoulder and squeezed it before walking away.
The contact was brief, and it could have meant nothing but you knew better. You were certain of it. She was just making sure that the message was sent.
"I'm going to head to the bathroom as well," you said, standing as you held your napkin over your lap awkwardly.
You quickly scurried away, following after Jennie, catching up to her before she made her way to the bathroom. "What the hell was that?"
Jennie looked at me with her eyebrows raised, an innocent expression on her features. Her words, however, were anything but, "What? Did none of your little campus sluts do that for you?"
"So you were jealous then?" you asked.
"Do I have something to be jealous about?" she said simply before making her way towards the ladies' room.
Maybe it was indignation, maybe it was anger; hell maybe it was just because you were still horny. Whatever the reason you found yourself following Jennie into the bathroom. As the door swung closed behind you, you grabbed her by the arm and spun her to face you. Your lips pressed hard against hers in a heated kiss.
Christ. It had been so long that you almost forgot how soft her lips were.
Almost.
You pulled her tightly against you, pressing your body hard into hers. Your tongue invaded her mouth, dominating her as the kiss intensified. Your hand traveled down her body, slipping under her skirt and grabbing a hold of her firm ass. You could feel that she wasn't wearing any panties.
"Hoping this would happen were you?" you muttered against her lips.
“Baby, I’ve been going commando for months now,” she whispered. Her breath was hot against your ear causing your cock to twitch from the sensation.
“God I’ve missed you” you muttered.
Not wanting to wait anymore, you got rid of your own pants, sliding them down past your knees. Jennie positioned herself up, using the sink as a counter and spread her legs for you; her wet, glistening pussy looking up at you in the eye.
You gripped the base of your cock, positioning yourself at her entrance and thrust yourself inside her.
"Fuck~!"
Jennie was still just as tight as you remembered and your hands immediately went to her hips. You started pumping her hard and fast, your hips snapping back and forth as her legs wrapped around your waist.
"Oh my God~" she groaned, wrapping her arms around your neck and pulling you into a deep kiss.
Her tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring the familiar territory.
Your lips locked in a frenzy as you both tried to express months of pent up sexual frustration. Jennie's pussy gripped you tight, squeezing and milking your cock as you fucked her.
“You thought you were cute with your little act earlier didn’t you?” you grunted as you pulled out and slammed back into her with more force than before causing her to squeal in surprise, and pleasure.
“You…liked it…didn’t you,” she shot back, her words coming out in short pants. Your sudden change in roughness caused her to move one hand to the sink, gripping tightly as her body shook each time you entered her.
Rather than answer immediately one of your hands moved to her throat, choking her lightly as you continued to fuck her, "It was embarrassing."
There was a brief moment of surprise on Jennie's expression before a devilish smile crept across her lips. "Someone's gotten into a few new kinks while I was away." Her hand rose to cover over the top of yours, imploring you to squeeze tighter as her fingers curled against your hand.
Not bothering to respond, you focused on the task at hand as you quickened your thrusts. This was different from your usual dynamic with Jennie but you didn't hate it. Far from it in fact. And clearly you weren't alone in that sentiment. You could feel her pussy clenching around you. Her breathing became heavier, her chest rising and falling, breasts heaving, and her skin flushed. It was an expression you hadn't seen in a while.
"You're enjoying this aren't you?"
Jennie nodded eagerly, biting down on her lip, stifling a moan as her orgasm was building.
You could tell she was close by the way her pussy tightened around your cock and the look on her face.
"Go on then, cum for me, Jennie" you grunted, releasing her throat and leaning down to kiss her once more.
As soon as you released her she gasped for air, her head rolling back against the mirror as she let out a loud cry, her body convulsing around you as she came hard. Her juices spilled down your shaft as you kept pounding her through her orgasm.
It was the sexiest thing you had witnessed since, well, the last time you had fucked Jennie. Finally she relaxed and elicited small moans as you continued to slide in and out of her, chasing your own release, knowing it wasn’t far now.
“I thought I’d find you two in here.”
Your mind registered the presence of a third voice, but your body was too far gone. Thrusting into the singer’s sweet pussy a few more times you felt your balls tighten. Grabbing Jennie’s slim waist you pulled her close against you before you erupted into her. Your hips jerked erratically a few more times as your seed shot to her womb.
“Christ…you weren’t lying about how much he cums, Jen,” the third voice said.
Unbeknownst to you, her eyes were fixated on your fluids currently leaking out of Jennie. It took another moment but finally your brain began to function properly again. You tore your gaze away from Jennie, to see Lisa standing there, hands on her hips and her tongue licking her lips.
“Lisa! Shit!” You might’ve jumped backwards were it not for Jennie’s legs still being hooked around your waist. “It’s not what it looks like.”
“You mean you’re not balls deep inside one of your sister’s best friends?” Lisa asked, manicured eyebrows raised.
You hesitated for a moment, “Okay…Maybe it is exactly what it looks like.”
Jennie, who had finally started to recover as well, brushed aside her sweat soaked bangs, “Relax. You don’t have to worry about Lisa.”
“You told her?”
“I came to my own conclusions,” Lisa answered. “We were both there on that dance floor, remember? Jen just got to you first.”
There was something undeniably hot about that. That two of the most desired women on the planet had wanted you, going so far to outmaneuver one another to get to you first. Briefly you wondered what it might’ve been like if that night had ended with the two of them. Boldly, you wondered if you might be about to find out.
“First come, first serve, Lili,” Jennie grinned. She pushed you back so she could slide from atop the sink, your release dripping down her thigh.
“You’re not jealous?” you asked, remembering her earlier reaction when you mentioned seeing other girls.
Jennie rolled her eyes. Her hand reached down, fingers curling around your cock as she slowly stroked you to cut down on your refractory period, “Are you comparing Lisa to one of these campus sluts?”
“N-no, not necessarily,” you moaned.
“Good,” Jennie kissed your cheek. “Then bend her over this sink and fuck her like a good boy before your sister starts asking questions.”
Yep. That did it alright. You were back to full mast from those words alone. You turned your gaze to see that in the time you had been talking to Jennie, Lisa had stripped out of her clothes. Your cock gave a twitch at the sight. Jennie was hardly the only one of Jisoo’s friends you had fantasized about. It was all three if you were being honest with yourself. Now here you were staring at Lisa’s toned, perfectly fit body.
Lisa bit her lip, smiling and giddy with excitement as she stepped towards you. She turned, wiggling her tight ass against your crotch as she looked over her shoulder at you, biting her bottom lip, "Don't be shy, stud. Jennie's told me plenty of stories."
That made you curious. It also made you not want to disappoint her. There was no sense of pressure, maybe because you just had your balls drained and any nerves along with it. Instead what you felt was an excitement and eagerness to get to it. “Are you sure you can handle it?” you asked, feeling confident.
Lisa merely winked at you and gave another shake of her tight ass, “Why don't you find out.”
You briefly spotted Jennie out of the corner of your eye, her eyes practically glowing with anticipation at what would come next. One hand grabbed Lisa's slender waist while the other pushed against her back, bending Lisa over the sink. She giggled as she gripped the white porcelain for balance, moaning when she felt your cock start to probe her entrance.
You found her already dripping from her sex, running your cock along her folds before roughly sliding into her. "Shit" you moaned, the feeling of her tight sex enveloping you from the start. Your thick cock was splitting her in half and you could hear Lisa moan as her head fell forward.
"Are you okay?"
"Don't you dare stop," she told you. "Give me all of it, stud."
You didn't need any further instruction. You kept working your cock into her until you finally bottomed out inside of her, your balls pressed flush against her rear. It was heavenly. How many people around the world wanted to do this? Yet you were the one fucking the Thai princess in a restaurants bathroom.
You reached forward, one hand wrapping around Lisa's neatly done ponytail and pulled back her head raising. Her eyes locked with yours as you began to slowly withdraw your cock before slamming back into her.
"That's so fucking hot," you heard Jennie say.
Had your attention not been solely focused on fucking Lisa you might've spared her a glance. As it was, you were entranced by the talented dancer; your rhythm steadily increasing as she propped herself up against the sink. Fucking Lisa’s lithe, fit body was a whole different experience. Each time you moved inside of her, you felt like you might break her. Like your cock might punch through her cervix and bulge against her stomach. And yet Lisa took every inch like a goddess.
“Shit. Shit. Shit” she chanted, her body shaking with each thrusts, her head still pulled back, “You’re going to fucking break me. Is that what you want, stud? You want me to walk on stage with a limp from being fucked so good, huh?”
Your cock swelled inside of her at the thought. The filthy words driving your passion. You watched your reflection in the mirror, pounding the global starlit from behind. Truth be told you almost didn’t recognize yourself. In the span of a few months you had gone from drooling over your sisters friends and nearly coming yourself just from some provocative dancing to taking charge and fucking Jennie and now Lisa.
It made you realize her words were exactly what you wanted to do.
"That's exactly what I want to do," you grunted in response. One hand moved to slip around her throat, squeezing lightly as the other still held her ponytail, "I want my cum dripping down your leg when Money plays and you're dancing on stage."
Lisa moaned, struggling to maintain a state of coherence let alone form a proper response to your words. Fortunately, Jennie was more than willing to provide commentary as her fingers played with her own clit.
"Yeah? Are you going to sit in the front row to make sure?" she asked.
"That's right," you grunted.
You didn't know if you'd ever be able to look at Lisa the same again after this. Let alone when she was on stage performing an array of provocative moves. But logic no longer mattered. You were completely lost in the moment, saying anything and everything as long as it heightened the moment.
Too much. It was too fucking good. It was —
“Oh f-fuck,” Lisa let out, her eyes rolling back.
Her body tightened, her walls squeezing your length as her orgasm hit like an ocean wave on a stormy night. You weren't far behind, in fact as she shuddered against you you continued to thrust into her tight pussy. You buried yourself deep inside of her when your own release finally hit, painting her insides with your seed.
By the end of it you were utterly spent. And you weren't the only one either. Lisa slumped against the sink, letting it support her weight.
"I think I...I need a few minutes," she babbled.
Jennie licked her fingers, cleaning them of her own release. "Don't worry, stud. I'll take it from here. You go back before Jisoo really starts to ask questions."
You could only nod dumbly as your cock slipped out of Lisa, your cum seeping out of her hole. Needless to say, this had been one hell of a reunion.
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lovelettersfromluna · 7 months
Text
Supercut
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Summary: “In my head, I play a supercut of us.”
an: halfway through writing this I decided that this isn't technically the finale hehe, more of cam girl!Ellie come, this is just the end of them being stupid. mwah mwah love you all more than you know.
Warnings: SMUT!! 18+, MDNI, angst, cam girl!ellie, Ellie is a real idiot in this one tbh, arguing, hurt/eventual comfort, toxic!Ellie, tribbing, making out, pet names, this one is a little short im sorry, lmk if I missed anything!!!
Read part 1 here, and part 2 here!
You know that gross feeling you get whenever you look back at old pictures or videos? You know, the one that you feel at the pit of your stomach, and it makes you really happy but also really sad? What's that called again?
Oh, right. Its melancholy
It's that feeling where you have a specific memory, and you know that no matter what, that time is gone. You can't replicate it, and the only place that it will live is in the confides of your own mind
And it sucks, because you don't even know when those moments are going to be made. There's no warning in your brain that the day you have planned is going to be so impactful to your life, that you will constantly chase that feeling, trying to replicate what it was that made that time so blissful so that you can feel that same warmth again.
You don't even get the chance to savor it while it lasts.
It almost makes you feel like you never wanted those times to happen to begin with, because you would have been fine without them. Sacrifice one of the times of your life so that you wouldn't have to spend countless nights laying in bed, only hoping that you will experience something that can even come close to how it all felt in the past.
Most of the time, it's easy to simply look back at those memories, feel that disgusting mixture of happiness and sadness, and then move on.
But for some god awful reason, you can't seem to do that this time.
This time, it lingers. It sits there, knocking at your chest, demanding to be acknowledged, to have all of your undivided attention, giving you no choice but to think about how fucked up this all is, how all of this was a complete and utter mistake, and how you have no way in taking it back.
It makes you wish time travel was real, yearning for some mad scientist to come out and say 'look everyone! you can reverse the mistakes you've made in the past!'.
But that doesn't happen, and you have no choice but to live with the icky feeling that settles at the pit of your stomach, and refuses to go away.
You weren't entirely sure what would happen after that night with Ellie, the night that she laid her weight on top of you, fucking you into her mattress over and over again, whispering the sweetest words into the nape of your neck, holding you the entire night through once you were finished, silence overcoming the space as you both fell into a blissful sleep.
It was hard to really tell where you both stood, but you weren't an idiot.
You knew, that you and Ellie had made love that night.
It was truly like nothing you had ever experienced. It was like you were constantly in that delicious state before sleep, where the world is soft, and everything is so comfortable right before you reach the point of unconsciousness, and everything feels so utterly perfect.
That's what it felt like, and you knew that from the moment Ellie had pulled you against her chest, and pressed a soft kiss to your head before you both fell asleep.
It happened, but God....you really wished it hadn't.
Because now? Things were so much fucking worse.
The feeling Ellie gave you scared you, and it made the ugliest thoughts fill your head when you woke up. You felt wrong, the skin on your body feeling filthy for doing something so intimate with her, with your roommate. You felt like you were taking something that wasn't yours, something that was never meant for you in that way.
So you ran.
Not far, of course. You were lucky enough to wake up before Ellie, gently peeling yourself from her body, your stomach sinking whenever she mumbled something gently in her sleep, her hands mindlessly reaching for your body before she fell back into her deep slumber.
You stood over her for a moment, watching as her eyes flickered in her sleep, lips parted as she snored gently. The feeling you had when you watched her sleep scared you, because you felt...like you wanted to stay with her, protect her, hold her in your arms and ignore the reality of how much this was fucking with your head, ignore the fact that she had simply wanted help with her work.
It wasn't supposed to be like this.
You inhaled deeply before you left her room, closing her door gently before you quickly went to your bedroom, tugged on a t shirt and jeans before you grabbed your jacket and left the apartment.
You stayed out in the city all day, that day. You were like a ghost, trying to sort out the feelings that were settling in your chest, opting to simply ignore them instead. You made sure to leave your phone at home, knowing any texts from Ellie wouldn't do you any good with how you were feeling.
You didn't return home until later that afternoon, the sun setting, slowly casting the familiar darkness of night onto the city that you had come to know. You wished you could stay out longer, avoid the situation more, but it was only gettin colder, and you knew you had to go back to your apartment sooner or later.
When you got there, you were greeted by silence. You don't even hear Ellie's usual music playing from inside her room. You frowned softly, looking around a bit for any signs of the girl there. You looked down, finding that her leather jacket and helmet weren't where they usually were.
Ellie had left too.
You should've been happy at that, giving you even more time away from the girl than planned, yet you can't ignore the ugly tinge of sadness and annoyance that lingers at the back of your throat at the thought of here simply...leaving.
When you got to your room, you quickly grabbed your phone, wishfully thinking that there would be a string of messages from your roommate, asking you where you've gone, and if everything is okay between you both.
But when you unlock your phone, there's nothing there.
Not a single call, or a single text.
And you suddenly realized, that great minds think alike.
So, that's how things go with you and Ellie after that. There isn't a grand scene of love, where you both confess that you had both felt that way from the moment you set eyes on each other, there isn't a happily ever after where you become her girl, and she becomes yours. There isn't any of that, you two simply go from being friends, to barely being roommates.
You guys never speak about it. There's never a conversation that happens to even clear the air, pretending as though that night in her bedroom never happened.
There's a sense of hostility that follows after all of it happens, because Ellie won't even fucking look at you now, let alone stand in the same room as you. If you're in the living room, she's in her bedroom, and if you're in the kitchen, she leaves the apartment to go eat somewhere else.
It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, because you can practically feel the hatred she has for you radiating off of her body whenever she's around, and it's a shock to you that you two are still even living together. The Ellie that would once sit in the living room with you, practically tugging your body to sit on her lap, has succumb to someone who barely even exists to you anymore.
And it doesn't even end there.
Ellie never really had girls in and out of the apartment before, even before you and her started filming and having sex. She was pretty strict about letting others into her space, only ever bringing around girls she was dating long term, or her designated filming partner. You never had a problem with it, letting Ellie know time and time again that the place was half hers, and she could bring whoever she wanted.
But that seemingly changed after you and her happened.
Because suddenly, there's a different girl at your apartment every night, and Ellie is fucking them ten different ways into the next month.
And it always happens to be on the nights before you have to wake up early to go in and open the record store.
She becomes relentless.
You first noticed it happening when she breezed past you on a Friday night, clearly dressed up for a night out. You couldn't really ignore the way your core tightened at how fucking good she looked, the feeling quickly overshadowed by the way she yet again left the house as if you weren't sitting right there.
After getting yourself to bed for some much needed shut eye, you were rudely awakened by the sound of your front door slamming open, followed by the sound of tumbling and soft giggles..
Which then slowly turned into the sounds of Ellie fucking a girl in her bedroom that was directly across from yours.
And it kept going, night after night, the sound of Ellie pleasuring another woman was all that you were left with. Not even your headphones on full volume could drown out the banging of Ellies headboard against the wall.
You have never been a jealous person, especially when it came to Ellie and her sex life. However, after what happened between the both of you, and the very clear fact that Ellie was indeed doing it out of spite..
You really couldn't ignore the fire you felt at the pit of your stomach whenever you heard some random girl moaning out Ellie's name to the top of her fucking lungs.
It was then that you came to terms with the fact that enough was enough.
And you had to move out.
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It wasn't long until you wouldn't leave your room.
You seriously couldn't stomach the way it felt, being ignored by Ellie, her constant avoidance a reminder of how much of a bad idea it was to agree to filming with her in the first place. If that wasn't enough, constantly seeing her leave the apartment to go meet up with another girl started to hurt even more.
And you really didn't want to face the truth behind that.
There was something unsettling that came with the feeling it gave you, because how could you go from not even batting an eyelash at Ellie walking out of her bedroom with Julia, to feeling tears prickle at the edge of your eyes every time you heard her fucking someone else across from your room.
Because it's cruel, and you know you were wrong to leave her the way you did, but she left too. You knew that what you did was wrong, but surely you didn't deserve all of this? And why would she even want to hurt you like this in the first place? Surely you were the only one that felt this ridiculous conflicting feeling that only brought you stress.
And yet, you only found new ways to torture yourself.
It happens one night after work, you're tired and all you want to do is peel off your clothes and hop into bed.
Opting to grab your laptop, wanting to watch some mindless video on the internet to lull you to sleep, you are suddenly faced with something that had been waiting to haunt you.
A link to one of your videos with Ellie was still on your browser.
She had sent it to you a while ago, wanting to show you how well it was doing, and all the positive feedback that it was receiving, you meant to watch it at the time, but never got around to it. Now, it was sitting there, collecting dust until you decided to open it.
And you knew you shouldn't have, because that chapter of your life has closed, and you intended to keep it fully closed.
But curiosity did kill the cat, didn't it?
You didn't think twice before opening it, the link quickly flashing across your screen and taking you to Ellie's page. The thumbnail is of the two of you, the last video you guys had filmed. Its you, straddling Ellie on her bed, her strong hands gripping your hips, probably forcing you to grind down on her lap.
You feel your core tighten at the sight of it.
You don't look at it much longer, or read the comments either, because you know they will all be asking where you've gone, and whether or not you were coming back.
Instead of closing your laptop and going to sleep like you should have, you kept scrolling through Ellies page. You come to find the usual, seeing that she had been live the past few nights, as well as posted a few videos for her viewers to catch up on, none of it out of the ordinary.
Something does catch your eye however.
Its a video that was posted a few nights ago, and you can barely make it out, but you can see a thumbnail of Ellies tattooed hand pushed between a girls thighs, doing what you can only assume to be fingering her.
And that girl is definitely not you.
She had found herself a new partner.
It’s no shock that she did. She’d been actively fucking other girls, someone in and out of your apartment almost every night, something that she had made sure to make very clear to you…
But there was just something about actually seeing it that hurt like hell
You slammed your laptop shut, a bit too hard, but you were suddenly filled with something foreign to you, something that you hardly felt for anyone.
Quickly grabbing you blankets and tugging them over your body, you squeezed your eyes shut to try and erase the image of Ellie with another girl from your brain, the image slowly tainting the deepest corners of your mind so that you won't ever be able to do just that.
You couldn't do this anymore.
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Ellie was just as bad at talking about her feelings as you were.
Because the morning after you and her had sex, she wanted nothing more than to wake up with you, kiss you, hold you, move on from this agonizingly slow phase that you two were in, where she was allowed to do the things that she always wanted to do, just conditionally.
She wanted to wake up, and move forward whatever the fuck you and her were stuck in.
But you didn’t. You simply woke up before her, and left, leaving Ellie to feel like a fucking idiot.
Because maybe she read into the entire thing wrong, maybe you didn’t feel anything for her, maybe you really did only see her as your roommate and nothing more than that….
Maybe that look in your eye that she was sure she saw when she was fucking you, was all in her head.
So when you ran, she did too.
And soon, Ellie’s sadness turned into anger, and all she wanted to do, was hurt you the same way that you hurt her.
She wanted you to hear her with other girls, she wanted you to see her with other women on her streams, she wanted you to see what it was that you’d lost, what you’d stupidly lost when you decided to run away from her the morning after it all.
But maybe she’d taken it too far.
Because Ellie’s anger turned into something that she didn’t want, because no matter how much noise she made, how good she tried to look whenever she was getting ready to go out with some random girl, no matter what she did to make you jealous, you never batted an eyelash her way, you never once reacted to anything that she did that was directed at you for the sole purpose of getting your attention.
And not only did it further prove to Ellie that you didn’t give a fuck about her, but it also made her so much more frustrated with you.
Did you seriously not have a fucking soul? Could you not even acknowledge her? Hurt for her? Feel hurt by her? Why wasn’t it working? Why weren’t you…..why couldn’t you just…..
Why couldn’t you just fucking want her.
Ellie was truly at her last straw, because being with other women was something she already didn’t like doing, but it was slowly eating away at her, picking away at her insides and making her feel hollow inside, a shell of who she used to be when she was with you.
And when she didn’t think things could get any worse, she found you doing something she only saw in her nightmares.
She hadn’t really noticed it at first, but slowly, your belongings began to disappear from the apartment. Particularly in the living room.
Your stack of blankets would get smaller and smaller as the week went by, the dorky little figures you had littered around different shelves and the tv stand started to disappear too, little parts of you started leaving, one by one, and Ellie was too far up her own ass to even notice.
Maybe if she had, she could’ve convinced you to stay.
In all honesty? Ellie probably wouldn’t even have realized you were leaving until it was too late, the girl far too consumed in her little revenge streak to notice the slow but sure disappearance of you, the way the remnants of you slowly began to leave one by one.
It just so happened that on a day that you were packing up some of your boxes, you had left your door cracked open, thinking that Ellie wasn’t home.
She was passing by your room when she heard a soft huff, the sound quickly catching her attention as she slowly walked towards your door, catching sight of the various opened boxes scattered around your room that was already looking sparse due to packing it all the way.
That. That was the straw the broke the camels fucking back.
Because suddenly, Ellie is pushing your door open, the force from her hand making it slam against your wall, the loud sound making you flinch to look over in her direction with wide eyes.
“Ellie?” You question softly.
The sound of her name rolling off your tongue makes a shiver run down her spine, because god….had she missed the way you said it.
Her eyes are angry, eyebrows furrows together as her eyes scan your room, looking at the boxes, your half empty closet, your empty book shelf.
“What the fuck is going on here?” She spits out, her tone making you wince slightly. It’s the first time you’ve heard her speak to you in almost an entire month and it’s so fucking hostile, so pointed.
This really wasn’t how you wanted this to go.
You let out a soft sigh, bringing your palm up to ran along your face as you look down at the boxes as well, heart sinking at the thought of going.
“Look…Ellie…I was planning on telling you…I just-“ she’s quick to cut you off, walking further into your bedroom as her eyes scan the walls, watching as they began to grow emptier and emptier the further in she looked. She scoffs, her green eyes finally landing on yours, her smoldering grip enough to take your breath away.
“Bull-fucking-shit. You weren’t going to tell me anything, and you know that” she argues, nostrils flared as she stares at you with eyes filled with that same glare of hate that you saw every time she’d glaze over you within recent weeks.
And she was right. You had no intention of telling her anything. She would learn that you were gone once you were gone, because that’s what you did.
You always ran.
You let out a sigh of defeat before you step away from her, fully intending on continuing packing. You didn’t want this to stop you, or put anymore obstacles in your way of leaving. This was what you had to do, and you knew that.
“I can’t stay here anymore, Ellie…things are fucked up between us and I just…I won’t deal with it anymore” you mumble out, your voice tired, weak. A clear indication of how you felt towards the entire situation. It was draining you, and you knew that for your own well being, you had to get out.
The sight of you packing as if she wasn’t in your room, trying to figure out why you were leaving, makes her even more upset. It blinds her from your words, from the weakness in your voice, in your appearance. She ignores it because the anger she feels is much easier to indulge in.
"So that's it? You're just gonna leave? Without saying anything to me?" she barks out, her tone making you feel worse than you already do.
And then it all stops, because why the hell are you feeling bad when this isn't even your fault.
You slowly turn to Ellie, your eyebrows furrowed as you stare at her in disbelief, cocking your head to the side slowly before you start to speak.
"Are you listening to yourself right now, Ellie? Do you ever stop to think for one second that not everything is about you?" The tone of your voice is so calm, words so slow and articulated, it barely even sounds like you're mad.
And it scares you, and it scares her.
You don't stop there, you couldn't even if you wanted to.
"This wasn't my idea, none of it was. I agreed to help you because you asked it of me, and I clearly have no fucking sense of boundaries. I get that what I did was wrong, and I shouldn't have left you that morning, but no one is fucking perfect" You defend, your own breath become more shallow the more you speak, your anger and frustration finally rising to the surface.
"This isn't good for me. You aren't good for me, you've been fucking different girls every goddamn night just to hurt me, and you're a fucking liar if you deny it." you spit out, making Ellie wince slightly, yet her eyebrows never unravel from how furrowed they are, and the frown on her lips is still there.
When you said it out loud though, she realized just how bad it was.
"I did it to get your fucking attention...not to hurt you" She barely whispers, staring down at you. You can't help but laugh softly, scoffing at her words before you give her a gentle sigh.
"Oh it got my attention, Ellie. It got it so much, that I can't bare for you to have it anymore..." you mumble out softly before you turn away from her, unable to stare into her eyes for any longer.
"I don't know what happened between us that morning...but I want nothing more than to just..forget about it all" You let out meekly, feeling yourself reduce to that small ball of insecurities once again.
And Ellie finally softens when she sees it, because you never let your guard down this much.
She inhales deeply, taking a step towards you, trying to get closer to you. You don't step back, or flinch, you simply ignore her, carrying on to pack your things as if she wasn't there, standing above you.
"You hurt me too...you know" she mumbled out, her voice finally dropping that hostile tone that she had when she first walked in. You're quick to turn towards her, spinning around to set your eyes that were quickly growing redder by the second.
"And Im sorry!" you shout, your voice going the loudest it had yet, it makes Ellie flinch.
You sigh out tiredly before you bring your hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "If I could go back and do it differently..I would..but too much has happened, Ellie...I don't..." you trail off, struggling to find the proper words before you sigh softly, finally speaking again.
"I don't see you the same way, anymore" you mumble out.
This makes Ellies heart seize up, because what do you mean by that? What are you trying to tell her?
You move to sit on your knees, you bare legs coming in contact with the cold, wooden floor as you begin packing more things in a different box. There's no more fighting, there isn't anymore arguing, or anger, it's just silent, the occasional sound of your clothes hitting each other when they hit you settle them in the box. You don't even bother to turn around and yell at Ellie, or even tell her to get out.
And maybe thats what's hurting her the most. You never yelled, you didn't cry or beg, you didn't do anything when she knew you heard her, saw her with those other girls. All of them were nothing to her, sorry attempts at trying to grab hold of your attention again, get you to show just a little bit of fucking anger, so that she knew you still felt something for her, so that she knew she still had you.
But it was clear to her with the way that you disregarded her after it all, as if she didn't even matter, that she didn't have you anymore.
Did she ever? Did she ever have a chance with you? Was she all in her head? Were you simply just a good friend? A decent roommate who promised to help her out when she needed help? Was all of it just....
Pretend?
She feels like she's running out of options, because she assumed that if anything, you two would fight and end up in a heated, passionate love making session where you two would admit what you had felt all along.
But Ellie was slowly coming to the conclusion that she was being fucking delusional.
Her decisions didn't let up thought, because soon, she's on her knees next to you, grabbing your wrists gently in her hands and pulling you to face her. She feels her heart break when you refuse, trying to pull away from her grasp, mumbling soft complaints of how you needed to finish packing.
When she finally tugs you a bit harder, forcing you to look at her, she feels the weight of her mistakes finally settle on her chest, because you're crying. Your eyes are puffy and your cheeks are stained, and it's all her fucking fault.
She bites back a whimper, tugging her bottom lip into her mouth as she feel her own throat burn with tears.
"Hey...look at me...come on...where's my pretty girl...come on.." She tries over and over again, voice breaking, making you whimper as you try tugging your arms from her grasp.
"Don't you see how fucked up this is, Ellie? We were just screaming at each other and now...now you're calling me your girl" you plead with her, the words bubbling past your lips as the mere sight of here forces more tears from your eyes, making it harder and harder to talk.
Ellie can't talk her way out of this one, not with you. She knows there isn't much she can do, or say, and she feels like she's all out of options, because you're right. All of this is so fucked up, and it makes her insides burn because she's hurt, and you're hurt, and it feels like there's nothing she can do to fix it.
She does the only thing she feels will work. She kisses you.
It's filled with everything. Passion, longing, happiness, sadness, anger, everything that had been pent up between the both of you is poured into the kiss, and it's enough to make you feel dizzy.
But you don't pull away, you melt into her, just like you always do. She feels it too, feels the way you let you defenses down, taking it as a chance to tug your wrists up and around her neck, her own arms resting on your hips as she pulls you closer, her lips working against yours.
"Im....fuck...im so sorry, baby....never meant to hurt you" She mumbles against you, her words coming out as a breathy sigh against your lips, making you moan softly against her. She pushes her tongue into your mouth, giving your waist a soft squeeze.
"M'sorry too..Ellie....shouldn't have left..." You whine against her, and she's quickly shaking her head, gently tugging you up to stand with her before she's pulling you too your bed.
"Just...lemme take care of you..alright" She hums against your lips before she gently pushes you back to lay on your bed, her own body crawling over yours, resting her weight on your body as she goes back to kissing you.
It's so slow, and sensual, and it feels like the entire world is quiet, like you're fading into her, and she's fading into you, and you both are becoming one. It feels so fucking right, and the hole that had been growing in your chest is finally filling up, the essence that is Ellie slowly acting as the medicine that you needed all along.
Ellie rolls over, gripping your hips and tugging you to straddle her waist as she lays back against your bed. Her green eyes eat you up, strong hands already running along your hips and thighs, giving you a squeeze before her hand creeps up your t shirt, pushing it up a bit before it slips under, grasping your boob and massaging it in her hands.
"Fuck...look at you...missed you so much, pretty girl....you can't even imagine.." She sighs softly under her breath, eager hands roaming your body hungrily, as if they've deprived of you for so long, missing the way your skin spilled out from under her hands, always so responsive for her.
You tug your bottom lip between your teeth as you watch her practically worshiping your body with her hands, a soft whine leaving your lips as you rest your hands on her hips, pushing up her t shirt a bit as your thumbs rub small circle into her pale hips.
Her hands rest on your hips, forcing you to grind down onto her lap, making you whine softly, the feeling her her sweats bunching up right at your core, your cotton pajama shorts leaving much too room to be exposed by her touch.
She sits up, grabbing the hem of your shirt before she tugs it off your body, groaning softly as her lips immediately latch onto your nipple, biting and sucking. You moan softly, arching your back a bit and forcing more of you to her mouth, hands wrapped around her neck, toying with the hair at the nape of her neck.
Ellie pushes you back, resting you to lay down before she tugs your pajama shorts and panties off in one go. You promptly spread your legs for her, letting her settle between them, the small gesture making her groan, her strong hands gripping your thighs, grinding against your bare pussy.
"Fuck...such a good girl for me..." she sighs softly against your lips.
You whine, reaching down and tugging at her own pants, fumbling with the waistband of her shorts that hung oh so fucking low.
"Off..wanna feel you.." You moan softly against her, resulting in a soft chuckle from her. She presses one last kiss to your lips before she nods.
"Whatever you want baby...fuck" she mumbles softly under her breath when she pulls back to start tugging her own clothes off, catching a glimpse of your soaking wet pussy and naked body in the dim light of your room.
She looks so fucking desperate, nearly tripping over her sweats as she tugs them off, tossing them somewhere else in your room. It's like she can't get the clothes off quick enough, immediately settling between your legs again once she's naked, groaning softly a the feeling of your pussy against her body.
Her eagerness makes you giggle, and Ellie feels like she's on cloud fucking nine when she hears it, so soft and gentle. She pouts softly, staring down at you while she's already moving to position her pussy over yours, tossing your leg over her shoulder.
"What are you laughing at...hm?" She questions softly, her hips slowly moving against yours as she lets out a soft moan, eyes never leaving yours.
You can barely get the words out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you feel her slick pussy against yours, clits bumping together in a way that has you nearly salivating.
She chuckles above you, a soft groan following the noise as her lips graze along your calf.
"Thats what I thought...fuck....your pussy is too fuckin good, princess' She moans out softly, her hips moving slowly against yours.
You moan loudly, your hand coming to grip her thigh as you move your hips in tow with hers.
"F-fuck, Ellie....you...that feels so good" you babble out, your other hand gripping the sheets beneath you as she fucks her pussy down onto yours.
Ellie smirks softly as she watches you, watches the way you fall apart beneath her.
"Thats my fuckin girl....you're the only fucking one I need...fuck...." She groans, turning her head a bit to kiss your calf again before her teeth sink into you, biting and sucking your skin, making you moan loudly.
You feel her speed up, hips growing desperate as she chases both hers and your orgasm, making your head spin as your nails dig into her thigh, sure to leave marks in the morning.
"Im....god...Im close Ellie.....fuuuckkkk....dont stop" you gasp out, low, lust filled eyes staring up at her as she continues bullying your pussy with hers, both of your arousal squelching together, making the most explicit noise you've ever fucking heard.
"Come on baby...want you to cum for me...can you do that? Fuck...I feel it too....that's it, pretty girl.." Ellie is babbling too, her lust clouded braun barely uttering words that are comprehensible.
You see her eyes squeeze shut, her moans getting louder and more high pithed, sounding so fucking pretty above you.
You feel like you'll explode, your back arching as the familiar feeling settles in your core, your pussy getting wetter and wetter as you feel your orgasm grow closer.
"A-ah! Ellie!" You scream out as you come undone beneath her.
And she isn't far behind, leaning down and crashing her lips against yours, forcing you to swallow her moans as she cums hard against your pussy, the both of you breathing hard as her hips sputter, pussy sliding around sloppily against yours as she becomes so fucked out, that she loses her rhythm completely.
And just like before, she lays there, on top of you, trying to catch her breath, face tucked against your neck, hands keeping you close, as if you'll disappear in thin air at any given moment.
There's so much going through your head, trying to figure out what it is that happens from here, where you and here go, what steps to take after, all of which come up with blank answers whenever you try to figure out what to do.
You assume she will fall asleep on you as she did before, knock out immediately and leave you to lay there with your plaguing thoughts.
She doesn't, though. You hear a soft hum from her lips, her hands squeeze your waist gently, before she speaks against your neck.
"I love you...so much.." she sighs out, her voice breaking a bit as if shed break down at any given moment.
You aren't sure what you'll do from this point on, but you do know one thing.
You won't run away from Ellie, ever again.
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ynsbarbbb · 23 days
Text
down bad | d. ricciardo
hypothesis - daniel is not ready nor is he willing to leave this thing behind.
pairing - daniel ricciardo x fem!baker!reader
[fic is inspired by “down bad” by taylor swift]
“fuck it if i can’t have us, i might just not get up, i might stay down bad”
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“y/n,” your name slipped past his lips in a devastated sigh, eyes big as he stared at you. brown orbs drowning in a pool of tears.
a big, red suitcase sat on your bed, clothes haphazardly thrown around and you, sitting there on the foot end of the bed, messy hair surrounding your face and one of your favourite tops scrunched up in your hands.
daniel’s feet is glued to the hardwood floor by the door, his mind swimming, “wh—what are you doing?”
he looks around the room, your belongings, their familiar spots now empty. a sob escapes your mouth and you crumble from the edge of the bed down to the floor, ankles crossing and knees bucking up.
“i can’t do this anymore, daniel.”
his feet moves him to crouch in front of you, “baby, what are you talking about?”
you look up at him, “this,” you gesture around you with your hand, “the spotlight, the constant hate, the amount of time you leave.”
“let’s talk about it, yeah?” daniel asked, his voice hoarse. he’s swallowing at the lump in his throat, as he moves to sit down.
chuckling, you throw the top to the side, “what’s there to talk about? i’m a baker, i bake cakes, in a small town. and you,” you sniff and wipe your nose with the back side of your hand, “you travel the world, you race, everyone knows about you.”
he nods, “baby, i still don’t see the problem here.”
“i’m out of your league, i’m so far out of your league. i don’t fit into this lifestyle, i can’t flaunt money anywhere i go.”
daniel takes hold of your hands, “where’s all of this coming from, honey?”
you look up at him, and reach your arm back on the bed where you have thrown your phone after spending hours reading what his fans had written about you.
his fans, the people that would run to the end of this world to support him, that go to his every race to shout his name as he passes the finish line, the people he confided in the most when he started dating you.
“i can talk to them, disable our comments on our posts, hell, baby, i’ll even delete all social media,” daniel says, his eyes not leaving the phone. his eyes reading every comment twice and his heart swelling and breaking.
switching off the phone, you stand up and grap the top you had thrown to the side, “don’t bother, it’ll either way just get worse.”
daniel shoots to his feet, grabbing the things you had haphazardly throw into the suitcase and putting it on the bed.
he’s not going to loose you. he won’t.
“y/n, please don’t do this, it’s almost winter break, we can go somewhere private, just us. we can work this out, we will get past this,” daniel is practically begging, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he keeps on swallowing on the lump.
your shoulders sag, “daniel, stop,” you place the jeans in your suitcase and walk up to him to take his hands in yours, “find someone else, someone who fits into this life, who will walk it with you every step of the way. there are so many women out there who’ll be better and much more supportive than i am, and someone who can handle a bunch of teenage girls’ comments.”
daniel shakes his head wildly and grips your hands tighter, “no, no, fuck all else if i cannot do this with you. i don’t need someone else, God, i only want you. i am my best when i am with you, y/n, forget those fucking comments. remember what i said in the beginning of this relationship?” daniel’s hands moved up to cup your face, wiping at the wetness under your eyes, nodding his head,
“it’s us, baby, it’s us against all else,” his voice breaks as he said it. he bites his lips, the tears he was forcing away finally slips down his cheeks.
“i will fight, y/n, i will fight for us. i will fight for you. i will fight anyone who is against us, because, baby, i will not survive this night if you walk out those doors,” he moves to tuck those little hairs around your face behind your ears.
you nod your head as best as you can with daniel’s large calloused palms holding it. falling into him, resting your head on his chest and securely wrapping your arms around him, you believe him.
because, against all odds, you weren’t ready to leave, to leave everything you’ve accomplished together.
you weren’t ready to loose daniel. to loose his jokes, his comfort that comes with his presence, his laugh that made everyone in the room giggle, his hands that easily engulfed yours, his shoulder when you needed someone to lean on. you weren’t ready to loose that.
his chest heaved with a sigh of relief as he rested his chin on the crown of your head and wrapping his arms around your shoulders tightly.
“it’s us against it all, yeah?”
with your face smushed into his chest, a mumbled agreement sealed with a kiss to your forehead is all both you and daniel needed to know that none of you were going anywhere anytime soon.
fin.
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taylorman2274 · 1 month
Text
We Care About You (Part V)
You are forcibly summoned to Teyvat via dream trawling for answers. A long awaited discussion ensues...
Content Warning(s): Xiao Story Quest Spoilers
Notes: SAGAU; GN!Reader;
Word Count: 1.4k
Previous || Next
Taglist: @silverstarred; @victoria1676; @angelofdarkness2; @areaderspov; @andromeda-gay; @ash1; @mercy-not-merci; @toodledoodl3; @jellyedkazoo; @namine123; @innuwu; @agaygothicmushroom; @tired-of-life-86; @fantasyhopperhea; @sweetsourbxtch;
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After you had decided you were no longer going to play Genshin Impact, you felt as if a massive weight was lifted off your shoulders. Had the past few weeks really taken that much out of you?
"I suppose it did," you assumed as you were playing another game with your friend group. "I haven't felt this relieved in a long while."
You and your friend group spent many hours talking, laughing, raging, and sharing memes. When you noticed it was just past midnight, you felt that it was the best time to get some sleep. You bid goodbye to your friends, closed your computer, and went to take a quick shower.
While in the shower, thoughts began to ruminate in your head. "It's gonna be hard for me to find another game that will get me addicted as much as Genshin did. But maybe something in my backlog might work for now."
The thoughts continued after the shower, after brushing your teeth, and after getting in bed. "I almost forget what game I was playing before I started Genshin. Was it something I finished? If not, maybe I should go back to that."
Before long, you fell asleep. However, unbeknownst to you, your computer mysteriously turned itself back on and began to launch a certain application...
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"Do I need to remind you again how to perform Dream Trawler?" Xiao asked.
"Nuh-uh," Paimon shook her head, setting down a Seven-Star Lamp. "Paimon has a great memory! First, we offer incense with respect for Rex Lapis. Next, we meditate and think of our target. Then, we shout 'Bring Forth Sin'!
"It's 'Devayaksha, Bring Forth Sin'," the Traveler corrected as they were adjusting the position of the censer.
"Right!” Paimon nodded, setting down another Seven-Star Lamp. “Lastly, we let loose a couple of arrows towards the two yaksha statues to... to uh... uhhh...".
"Tsk. Fools."
This conversation was taking place while the Traveler and Paimon were setting everything up for the Dream Trawler ritual. However, instead of going back to the two yaksha statues on the southern face of Mt. Tianheng, Zhongli suggested they perform the ritual at Luhua Pool.
"If my guess is correct, [Y/N] will most likely panic upon realizing where they are. If that's the case, it would be better for them if they weren't so close to the harbor. It's best if we do not attract any attention."
Both the Traveler and Paimon agreed. Neither of them wanted [Y/N] to be afraid. They only wanted to give them the warmest of welcomes.
"Are you two done yet?" Xiao asked, annoyed at how long it was taking to get everything set up.
The Traveler and Paimon walked up to Xiao. "Yep! Everything's set up just like last time."
Xiao nodded. "Good. Get ready to initiate the ritual."
The Traveler and Paimon nodded in return. They put the incense inside of the censer and began to meditate.
"Since we are dealing with someone from another world, I would imagine that a great deal of focus should be needed to summon [Y/N]. This is especially true since we have no idea what they look like. I'm sure Xiao warned you of the consequences this could cause should you not take this seriously.
Zhongli's words echoed in your mind as you put all of your focus towards [Y/N].
"Hmm..."
[Y/N], who has been with them since the beginning.
"Ohh..."
[Y/N], who has done their best to guide them along their journey.
"Ahh... Hmm..."
[Y/N]. [Y/N]. [Y/N]. [Y/N]. [Y/N].
"Devayaksha, Bring Forth Sin!"
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...
... ...
... … …
It's cold.
You shifted in your sleep and immediately felt the lack of bedsheets surrounding your body.
Instead, you felt... rock? Sand?
Slowly opening your eyes, you were met with the cloudy midnight sky, trees with orangish-red leaves, and tall, rocky mountain peaks.
"...Wait. ...Why am I outdoors?"
Your eyes slowly began to adjust to the moonlight.
"...And why does this look so familiar?"
You brought your hand to the ground to begin pushing yourself up, but stopped moving once you noticed the light blue glow surrounding it.
"What the hell?!"
Shocking the exhaustion from your body, you quickly rose up from the floor, nearly losing balance as you stood due to how light you suddenly felt. You looked around the rest of your body and found that you were completely surrounded by the light blue glow.
"This has to be a dream... This has to be..."
"My job is done. I'm leaving now."
Startled, you quickly turned around to find three familiar persons standing a couple of yards away from you.
"Huh? Why don't you wanna stay?" A floating pixie asked.
"...Paimon?"
A short, tattooed man with azure hair scoffed in response. "I don't deal with mortals."
"...Xiao?"
You let out a crazed chuckle. "I've got to be dreaming."
Paimon, oblivious to your decreasing sanity, shook her head. "Nope! We summoned you here via dream trawling. Isn't that great?!"
You were silent for a few seconds before you responded. "Dream... trawling...?"
Sensing that you were still confused, Xiao sighed in annoyance. "You are [Y/N], right?"
Hearing the sound of your name shook some sense into you, but you still involuntarily nodded.
"Good. When you're ready to send them back, speak my name." Xiao told the Traveler before disappearing.
However, seeing Xiao disappear right in front of your eyes shook you even further. "Woah...! That looked way too realistic."
The Traveler let out a small cough to grab your attention. "If you wouldn't mind, [Y/N]. We summoned you here because we've been wanting to talk to you for some time now. Please, grab a seat."
They gestured toward a stone table that was definitely not there the last time you visited. They then sat down on the stone seat facing you. When they looked up, they realized that you hadn't even moved as much as an inch. Additionally, you stared straight at them, yet still appeared lost in thought. Sensing that you may still be bewildered about your current situation, they spoke up.
"You don't need to worry about anything, [Y/N]. There is nothing around here that will hurt you," they gestured to the seat again. "Please."
Had they been unable to see your chest moving in and out, both Paimon and the Traveler would have thought you to be a statue.
"This is a dream. This is real. This is a dream. This is real. This is a dream. This is real..."
Paimon shared a worryingly glance at the Traveler before floating on over to you. You were too oblivious to your surroundings to notice her approaching, but when she finally reached out a hand to tap your shoulder, you flinched back. Hard.
"Wahh! Sorry! Paimon's sorry!" Paimon quickly apologized.
Meanwhile, your brain was working in overdrive to assess the situation. "I felt her! I felt her! I'm not dreaming! I'm not dreaming! This is real! This is real! THIS IS REAL!"
"Paimon get back," the Traveler commanded, standing up from their seat. "They're in shock."
"In shock!? What do we do about that?" Paimon questioned.
The Traveler didn't respond, instead, they slowly began to walk towards you.
Becoming more aware of your surroundings, you noticed the Traveler approaching and slowly began to back up, raising your arms in front of your body. "No no no no. Don't come any closer."
However, the Traveler continued to walk forward one step at a time. They raised their hands up in the air. "It's okay, [Y/N]. It's okay."
You shook your head. "No, it's not okay," you rapidly spoke, breathing loudly. "I'm not supposed to be here."
"Yes, you are. We summoned you here."
You backed up into a broken stone pillar. "Why?" you asked, looking behind you for a quick second. "What did I do?"
They stopped in place before a sorrowful gaze appeared on the Traveler's face. "You’ve done nothing wrong."
Silence hung in the air for an agonizingly long time. Finally, you spoke:
"...Nothing?"
The Traveler nodded. "That’s right. We just want to talk."
You slowly lowered your arms. "About... what?"
Both the Traveler and Paimon smiled. "About our future journey together."
Confusion set upon you once again. "What? But I… I said I was done."
The Traveler sadly shook their head. "We know, but we can't let you leave. Not after all you have done for us."
Paimon chirped in. "Exactly! You're our friend after all!"
Your breathing stopped upon hearing Paimon. After all that effort you put into making amends with them. After believing that it was all for naught.
"You... you see me... as a friend?"
The Traveler nodded, their smile growing bigger. "We do."
Silence fell upon the three of you once again. This time, it was the Traveler who broke it.
"I think it's time we all grab a seat. Shall we?"
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Author's Notes: I was originally going to make this longer, but I once again struggled at trying to write this scene out. It's hard trying to figure out how people should believably react to this scenario.
Because it's never happened before, duh.
Anyways, the next part will be the end of this series. Stick around for the ending!
464 notes · View notes
nickfowlerrr · 10 months
Text
i never thought you’d happen to me - 2
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part one / part three
pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader
warnings: 18+ only. smut, fluff, bit of angst. time travel via magic. dad!bucky and mom!reader. steve x nat. some morally dubious homemade porn viewing 💀. if i’m missing anything that should be tagged, please lmk!
words: 6.7k
notes: this idea came from a prompt post i saw not too long ago and coincidentally fell into some bingo spots for my @the-slumberparty bingo card. fair warning: this is so completely self indulgent and a little trope overload lol but i had such a good time working on it and it was fun to write so who really cares 😌 thank you in advance for reading and reblogging! as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome and so appreciated. please let me know what you think!
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Back at the house, your house, you wander around the living room as Bucky sits on the tablet in the kitchen, consumed by whatever it is he's looking through.
You stop at the large bookshelf that's screwed into the wall, the picture frames all around catching your attention.
You smile at the baby pictures of the twins, admiring their tiny faces as you and Bucky each hold one, looking down at them like they were the only things in the world that mattered. You note how close you are to Bucky in the photo, practically in his lap as you lean into him.
Your eyes drift down the case before landing on a gorgeous shot, breathtaking, really.
You're in white, the elegant dress you don seemingly straight out of your dreams as you recline into Bucky who stands behind you, his arms around your waist as your hands cover his. You're smiling as he appears to be whispering something in your ear, a smile of his own evident as he does.
It's intimate and delicate and it seizes your heart as you can't seem to take your eyes off of it.
Your mind can't seem to make sense of it, though.
How do you get from here to there? How can you ever have this life? It seems so unreal.
Bucky can’t stand you more than half the time,  he's made that fact abundantly clear. So how the hell does he go from that to this? What changes? Why?
The sound of your name being called gets your attention as you wipe at your welling eyes. You hadn't noticed it happening, but you felt it when you finally blinked and looked away from the photo.
"Yeah?"
"My card is linked to this thing apparently, I was gonna order food."
"Okay," you breathe.
"What do you want?"
"I don't care. Whatever is fine," you brush off as you finally turn around and meet his eye. "I'm gonna shower."
He doesn't respond, but he doesn't take his eyes off of you either, watching you intently as you pass him and walk back to the room.
----
You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. The car ride back to the house seemed longer without the twins there to distract you from your close proximity to Bucky. And being alone together once you finally got back, despite the huge space allotted to you in this house, still seemed stifling. There was a growing tension between you that was more than ready to break.
You weren’t unfamiliar with the feeling. 
It seemed to be ever present when you two were around each other and only intensified the longer you were alone with one another. 
As you began undressing, starting the water for your shower, your mind wandered to the last time you found yourself in such close quarters with him. 
You were both beyond exhausted when you’d gotten back to the tower after your mission. It hadn’t gone as smoothly as anyone would have hoped, but you got the job done, if not just a little worse for wear. 
You were leaning against the right side of the elevator, facing the door as Bucky stood closer to the left side, facing the same direction as you. It was quiet, and though your body was sore beyond belief, you mentally chided yourself for not just taking the stairs. You’d just finished giving him a piece of your mind after he made yet another unhelpful comment about how you could have easily avoided being flung down a flight of stairs earlier. 
Crazy as it might have seemed, receiving a play by play of every tiny misstep you’d taken after a mission as grueling as that one didn’t go over too well with you. Especially as you stood with bandaged ribs, miscellaneous cuts, bumps, and bruises all over your body, and what you were sure was a concussion causing the throbbing in your head. 
You closed your eyes as you let your head rest against the wall, one hand on the rail and the other holding your duffel. 
A sudden jerking had your eyes snapping open as you held tighter to the railing to keep your balance, the light above shutting off briefly before a dimmer one returned as the elevator completely stopped moving.
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you groused under your breath before sinking down to the floor in utter exhaustion. The elevator had been on the fritz since before you had even left for the mission last week, you assumed they would’ve gotten it fixed by the time you returned. Clearly you were wrong.
You watched as Bucky hit random buttons on the panel in front of him in a vain attempt to get the thing to move again. You wanted to say something snarky but just sighed exaggeratedly instead. After a moment, still no words spoken between either of you, Bucky took out his emergency phone and called for help.
You didn’t pay much attention to his conversation as the pressure in your head grew, but his next words caught your attention completely. 
“What the hell do you mean an hour?” he nearly growled into the phone. 
You couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation well but there were only so many people he could have called at this hour that would be able to help and the snicker that made its way through the line had you betting on Stark.
He hung up and chanced a glance to you, meeting your gaze. “Might be a while,” he huffed before looking away. 
He approached the doors of the elevator and you winced at the sound they emitted as he pulled them open slightly. He was greeted by nothing but the walls of the elevator shaft before he allowed the doors to close again. You watched as he checked the time on his phone before he sat down himself. You let your eyes shut again, your tiredness winning out in the quiet settling over you. It was maybe ten minutes later when you were rudely awoken by Bucky.
You were impressed with his bravery because you could still feel your irritation roiling off of you from your earlier exchange. Your eyes were still closed when you felt his fingers brush against the bruise on your jaw. 
“What?” you asked harshly, swatting his hand away from you as you shot daggers at him with your glare.
“Considering how often you find yourself in the med bay, you’d think you’d know the basics of what not to do when it comes to head trauma.” 
“Jesus Christ, you just never fucking stop, do you,” you huffed before snapping completely. “I get it, Bucky, okay? I’m a fuck up, I’m reckless and careless and I don’t think before I act, is that what you wanna hear? Are you happy now? I admit it! I’m everything you say I am. But at the end of the day, I have never put you or anyone else in harm’s way. And just a reminder, I got the files and took out everyone I needed to along the way by myself. So I don’t know, maybe give me a little fucking credit for once,” you raged, the pain in your body only adding to your anger.
“This isn’t about me or the mission getting done or anyone else,” he fired back, his tone catching you off guard, though you refused to show it, “I’m never worried about any of that. But you are careless. Look at you! You put yourself in needless danger over and over again, and yeah, it pisses me off. You always end up hurt when you never should have been in the position to get hurt to begin with. You think I enjoy seeing you like this? I’m your partner, I’m the one who’s supposed to have your back and yet every assignment, you continue to go out of your way to make it damn near impossible for me to do.”
“Your job isn’t to keep me from getting hurt,” you deflected, not wanting to focus on the way his words were making you feel as you flicked your eyes away from his burning blue ones. It was too confusing. A mix of care and chastation you were having trouble processing at once. 
“And yours isn’t to get killed in some pathetic attempt to prove yourself,” he shot back before his tone quieted significantly. “You have nothing to prove,” he finished. 
Your gaze softened at that, a sense of embarrassment coming over you at how clearly he saw through you; The simultaneous feeling of validation his last words offered had the previous tension you felt in your anger lightening before you let your eyes slowly return to his.
There was a thick silence between you as you looked at one another, nothing but your slowing breaths to be heard. His gaze wasn’t as harsh now, but it still took a lot out of you to hold it. The intensity his eyes held was unmatched. You hadn’t realized before, how much closer he had gotten to you, but it was evident now as you nearly felt yourself buzzing - suddenly all too aware of everything in the confined void you’d found yourselves in. 
And then, you couldn’t say why or how, but you found your eyes falling to his lips. A stuttered breath leaving you as inadvertently leaned in a bit closer to him. 
That wasn’t you, though, you’d realized after a split second, one hand reaching up to hold the rail. 
The elevator jolted a bit as it began to move again, only a few seconds passing before the ding signaling its arrival at the top floor sounded. You were still looking at one another, maybe more intensely than you’d realized, when the doors slid open.
“Uh-oh, did I interrupt something? Let me guess, lover’s quarrel?”
Your gaze quickly turned into a glare as you both turned to see Tony waiting at the doors for you.
You rolled your eyes and got up as quickly as you could, trying to hide your winces of pain as you did. 
“Fuck off,” you said as you brushed past him.
“Is that your catchphrase now?” he called after you, “Ya know, I like it, it suits you.”
You remember how embarrassed you were after that night, praying that Bucky hadn’t noticed where your eyes had drifted to, or if he did that he’d have the decency to pretend he hadn’t. You’d chalked it up to a moment of weakness. You weren’t stupid enough to expect him to return your (very well kept to yourself) feelings. You never expected anything out of him, and honestly you’d been trying to shake them yourself since you’d been partnered up. You avoided him for a good week straight after that night, and neither of you has brought it up since.
Even now, you could pretend all you wanted that those feelings didn’t exist, but deep down, you knew they were alive and well. And clearly, as you looked again at the picture of you and Bucky sitting on the bedside table, it wasn’t something you could believably go on denying much longer.
The shower helped. Kind of. You feel better physically, but your mind is still dead set on trying to figure out the future. You take your time drying off and getting into a clean pair of pajamas while Bucky waits in the kitchen.
He's scrolling through every app he can, trying to piece together his future as it stands. And if he's being honest, trying to figure out how the hell he was able to get you to stop hating him. How he was able to get you to fall in love with him..
He opens up the photo library, grinning as he sees photo after photo of the twins, and some family photos, pictures of you, pictures of him, intermingled in.
He backs out of the gallery and scrolls down mindlessly through the albums. His eyes land on the "Hidden" tab and he clicks on it without too much thought, his face unlocking it and granting him access.
His eyes go wide, his mouth goes dry at the images that liter the screen. 
He should close out, look away, something, but he doesn't. The scandalous photos grab him and he just can't. One icon in particular catches his eye and he clicks on it without thinking, the video playing instantly.
He watches the screen intently, hunching over the tablet as he holds it tightly in his hands. Sees himself leave from in front of the camera, his movement revealing you as you wait for him on your bed. You're peering up at him attentively as he approaches you before you spare a glance to the camera and then back to him. A soft smirk playing on your lips as he towers over you, causing you to look up further and further as you recline until you’re on your back. 
“Hi,” you simper breathily, earning a smirk from him in return.
“Hi,” he breathed, leaning ever closer.
He watches as you scoot back on the bed and he follows you, his hands tracing down your curves, fingers playing with the material of your lingerie before he drops his head and begins trailing kisses from the softness of your stomach, up your sternum and along your neck before finally your lips meet.
Bucky is completely enraptured in the scene playing out before his very eyes. He’s sitting here feeling jealous of himself as you run your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to you before you bring a leg up around his hip, arching your body into his own.
It’s sensual at first but you both seem to grow impatient quickly as your kissing heats up and becomes more and more hungry. 
Finally, you slip a hand down and tug at the waistband of his boxers until he pulls away. 
Bucky can see your face perfectly, your eyes are dark as you push yourself up onto your forearms, watching him.
Instead of ridding himself of his boxers right away, he slowly, teasingly drags your silky underwear down your thick thighs as you watch him with heavy eyes, your legs spread just for him.
“Look at the camera,” he hears his own voice command.
Your eyes flick from him to the lens as Bucky swallows thickly, still completely unable to look anywhere but you. 
You gasp suddenly as he quickly buries his face between your thighs, your fingers tightening in his hair as your head lolls back some. Your soft moans begin tumbling past your lips as he focuses his attention solely on you, devoted and unrelenting as you mewl and writhe under his ministrations.
When a whimper of his name leaves you, it causes Bucky to shift in his seat, trying to ease the ache growing in his shorts as he watches you rock yourself against his face.
“Buck,” you moan, “please,” you whine with a tug of his hair. 
He watches as your toes curl, feet arching, and your entire body seems to tense around him, your eyes squeezing shut as your mouth hangs open until your legs quake and you let out a tight, shaky whimper on an exhale. You bite your knuckle in an attempt to keep yourself quiet while he continues working you through your orgasm. 
When he finally lets up and gives you a chance to collect yourself, he moves up your body, finding your lips as he kisses you again, leaving you even more breathless than you had been.
“It’s just you and me tonight, doll. Don’t hold back on me,” he kisses you again, his hands going around your back to undo your bra. “I’m gonna wanna hear you when I watch this back,” he smirks.
You're completely naked as Bucky stands before you, finally taking off his boxers. “Turn around for me,” he tells you. 
You do as he says, getting on all fours with him situated perfectly behind you. He angles you both so the camera has a better view. Bucky watches as he teases your entrance with his tip, over and over again as you whine and wiggle your ass in pure desperation for him.
He keeps the volume low as he lets the video play, he isn’t sure how much time passes as his eyes are glued to the screen, watching himself take you as you let him. He listens to how prettily you cry for him, to the salacious sounds of his cock driving into you over and over, the wet squelching mixing with the slapping of skin as he fucks you hard.
Bucky feels his cock twitching in his shorts as he watches you come for him before hearing himself groan deeply, moaning while he empties his load into your pretty cunt.
He watches the come down, sees himself running his hands along your skin, peppering kisses all over your body, before you roll over beneath him, pulling him down to you and kissing him desperately.
He is entirely unsure about the morality of this all, but he can't look away.
"Fuck, you're amazing," he breathes heavily as he pulls away from you just so. "Thank you, sweetheart," he grins lazily, stroking your cheek.
"Mmm,” you hum contentedly as you look up at him before continuing, “If anyone ever sees this, I'll kill you," you promise him with an 'I mean it' stare before pulling him back to you, crashing your lips together.
"No one'll see it, doll. I promise. For my eyes only," he says as he nuzzles into you. "You have no idea how much I miss you when I'm gone, baby."
"I think I have some idea," you respond, the sultry tone of your voice effortless as you wrap a leg around him.
It looks like you're about to go for another round, and the thirty minutes left in the video seem to confirm that thought, when Bucky hears the door of the bedroom finally opening.
He quickly closes out of the video, sliding the tablet away from himself before trying to hide and adjust his very obvious erection before you come in.
He clears his throat loudly, a bit awkwardly, as you enter the kitchen, earning a questioning brow from you as you walk toward the pizza box.
"You good?" you ask him as you grab a slice, not bothering with a plate.
He nods a bit too stiffly for your liking as you assess him. His cheeks are a little flush and he can't seem to look you in the eye.
"What did you do?" you question accusatorily.
"Nothing. I'm gonna shower now, if that's alright with you?" he questions haughtily.
You make a face at his tone, rolling your eyes as you turn around to grab a glass for water.
He doesn't mean for it to happen, but as you turn from him, his eyes fall to your ass, and he has to work to stop the groan that threatens to tumble from his lips as his mind replays the video for him.
Fucking creep, he chides himself as his cock twitches again. He takes the opportunity to stand and get to the bathroom as your back is to him.
---
You're on your third piece of pizza when Bucky returns to the kitchen, grabbing a slice for himself.
He's spent the last half hour going over in his mind exactly how you two could have possibly ended up here. He's still confused. And at his wit’s end.
Bucky speaks before he can think better of it.
"Why do you hate me?" he asks, seemingly out of the blue, causing you to turn toward him with quizzical eyes as you swallow your bite.
"Excuse me?" you ask in disbelief.
"Why do you hate me?" he repeats himself, his gaze never faltering as he holds your stare.
You're honestly dumbfounded.
You sputter for a second before attempting to form actual words. "I don't hate you, Bucky," you answer as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. And seeing your future, you were pretty sure it must have been. "I mean, clearly," you add a little embarrassed for yourself.
"No? Then why do you act like you do?"
"I -,” you’re about to deny the accusation, but truthfully, you know he’s right. So you pause before giving the only answer you can come up with. “I don't know. Self-preservation?"
"What the hell does that mean?"
"Defense mechanism. I mean, you've been a complete dick to me since day one, Bucky. Am I supposed to just let you ream me whenever you feel like it - justified or not. And for the record, most of the time, it's not. You treat me differently from everyone else, sidelining me over nothing, questioning my every move, and I don't know why but I stopped trying to figure it out a while ago," you spoke candidly.
He was quiet for a minute as he took in your words. You watched as his brows furrowed, his gaze dropping as he licked his lips mindlessly.
"I'm sorry," he finally said at last. It was soft, but sincere as a pained look seemed to have taken over his face. "I never meant to make you feel that way. But clearly I did. It's just.. you're so stubborn," he says with a shake of his head as his eyes meet yours once again. "I do treat you differently. Because, truthfully, you fucking terrify me. You can be reckless; you act like you're expendable, and you're not. You're the furthest thing from it. I just don't want to see you get hurt. And maybe I was too scared to actually voice that aloud before, but it is the truth. I don't know, I guess, I thought I was keeping you safe somehow, protecting you. And I know you don't need me to. I'm sorry. For being a dick, for interfering when I shouldn't have, and for not talking to you about things before. I am sorry."
You’re silent and quietly awed at his admission, swallowing hard before forcing yourself to break away from his brilliant blue gaze.
"Thank you," you accept, not knowing where to go from here. "Good to know you don't hate me," you add.
"Yeah, same here," he smiles softly. Another moment passes before you speak again, something unspoken growing between you.
"So, just to be clear, was that you admitting that...you like me?" you ask, hearing how juvenile you sound but not really caring all that much.
"That was me admitting that I care about you."
You take a breath and nod, "Oh, okay. So, you don't like me?"
"I didn't say that," he almost scoffs.
"So you do like me?" you ask again with a furrowed brow.
"Jesus, doll," he laughs lightly, "We're married."
"Not yet," you counter.
Bucky walks toward you, pizza long forgotten by you both as he suddenly gets to his knees before you while you stay seated in the chair, his face right about level to yours as you watch him with stilled breath.
His eyes are blazing a fiery blue as he holds your gaze. You have to blink at the intensity.
"I like you," he breathes quietly, careful not to break the soft air of intimacy as you stay so close to each other, earning a small smile from you in turn.
"I told Kate I had a crush on you during recruitment, that's why she always makes comments about us going on missions together so often," you admit unprompted, the urge to tell him the embarrassing secret you'd tried to keep hidden from the moment you let it slip to Kate just overcoming you.
Bucky smiles boyishly at that. "Steve was convinced from the beginning I had a thing for you, that's why we go out on missions together so often."
You can't fight the half smile that adorns your lips at his words, "Was he right?" you question. 
He nods.
"He was right," he whispers as he leans in closer to you. "Does our future not make that obvious?" he teases.
You don't think as you lean into him, one hand finding the back of his head and raking your fingers through the soft, dark brown strands as you breathe a bit heavier with anticipation, you watch as his eyes close at your touch, leaning ever closer. You’re sure he can hear the uptick of your heart as he meets your gaze once again, before your eyes flit to his lips. 
You shrug, a playful tilt to your lips.
"I can think of some other things that might make it more obvious," you murmur as you let your forehead press against his own, waiting for him to close the distance between your lips now.
His hand comes up to gently hold your face before he slowly brushes his lips against yours. 
It's soft and gentle as you kiss him again, but after a moment, one kiss turning into another and then another, your lips press harder against each other, hotter as it intensifies, your hand gripping his hair ever so slightly as he kisses you back just as hard before finally you force yourself to break away.
You shudder a breath as you part, catching your breath, but neither of you drop your hands.
Bucky's thumb gently strokes your cheek as you gaze into one another's eyes. So much unspoken, and yet so much being shared with the look alone.
The ringing of the tablet breaks you two up, though, as a FaceTime call pops up.
The contact is Natasha and seeing her name has you grabbing for the tablet and accepting the call right away.
"Hey," she greets as the sound of a movie playing in the background mingling with the giggles of children and fake cries for help from Steve can be heard just beyond her smoky voice.
"Hey, what's up? Did something happen?" you ask, hoping you don't sound as uncharacteristically panicked as you feel.
"That's what I was gonna ask you two. There a reason your daughter keeps twirling around shouting 'fucking dick' into the air every ten minutes?" She asks.
Your brows raise in surprise as your mouth parts open on nothing.
Bucky titters at the thought of that precious angel twirling around with a mouth like a sailor - a mouth like her mother. He smirks, answering for you.
"Yeah, that'd be thanks to her mother over here."
"Why am I not surprised," Nat responds.
"Sorry, she was mimicking me this morning and we didn't tell her to stop," you grimace. "Hey, can you put them on really quickly?"
"Yeah, that's actually the real reason I called. They wanted to say goodnight before they go to bed," she says as she walks into the living room.
"Linc, El, got some folks who wanna talk to you over here."
Your eyes light up as their perfect little faces fill the screen as Nat holds her phone for them.
When they register it's you and Bucky on screen, they smile brightly, calling out to you both.
"Hi, munchkins," you smile at the screen, Bucky right beside you.
"You guys getting ready for bed?" he asks.
"We're ready, Daddy! Just have to say goodnight to you and Mommy."
"Yeah we have to say goodnight so - and then we can sleep,"
You chuckle as Lincoln rubs his tired eyes.
"But I miss you Mommy," he pouts at the screen.
"'S okay, Linc," Ellie says as she takes her brother's hand, comforting him easily. You swear you're on the verge of tears as you smile at the sweetness.
"Sweetheart, I miss you, too. We miss both of you very much. But you guys are gonna have so much fun tomorrow! And we'll see you so soon, I promise. You two be good and listen to your Aunt and Uncle, okay? Oh, and Ellie,” her eyes widen as you say her name, looking attentively at your face on screen, “let's keep 'fucking dick' just an at home thing, alright?"
She giggles at your words but nods, "Okay, Mommy."
"Alright, goodnight you two," you say softly, not sure you’re ready to call it a night with them knowing what tomorrow is promised to bring.
"Goodnight, Mommy. I love you," they respond in unison.
"I love you more."
"Daddy's turn!" Linc calls for his father.
"Goodnight, Daddy," he says when Bucky leans further into the frame before you hand him the tablet to hold completely.
"Goodnight, Daddy," Ellie smiles.
"I love you," they say, again in unison. The sound is the cutest thing you've ever heard.
"Goodnight, guys. I love you more," he finishes with a soft, almost sad smile of his own before they run off the couch and chase Steve out of the room with the other kids. Nat offers you both a goodnight and a happy anniversary, parting with a wink before she hangs up.
"Those are ours," you say after a moment, astonishment lacing your tone.
"Yeah," Bucky chuckles. "We made those little punks."
"Ya know, I don't think we did too bad considering it's our first day."
"No, we were great. Naturals. They had absolutely no clue we'd never known them before today."
You laugh at that before the silence grows between you again. It's not something unusual for you guys, but the hot tension mounting in this moment in particular certainly is.
Bucky is still kneeling beside you, his large hand settled on your thick, plush thigh.
You scoot back, your weight pushing the chair. The movement allows his hand to smooth over your skin, sending sparks through you and raising goosebumps under his touch.
You try to pretend that it didn't send sparks alight in your belly as you move back further and stand, Bucky turning his gaze to follow your movements.
The sight of him on his knees before you, looking up at you with those devout blue eyes, it has your stomach fluttering as you take a deep breath.
He stands after a second, towering over you once again, somehow even closer now as you look up at him.
"What now?" you whisper.
"That's up to you, doll," he responds, voice lower than you've heard it before, his warmth radiating off of him and into you.
You see his hand twitch by his side, like he's holding himself back from reaching out and touching you again.
"Well," you swallow, "they said it's our anniversary, right?"
"Mhm,"
You raise your brows, shrugging the tiniest bit as you nervously lick your lips.
"You wanna celebrate?" you ask, your voice a little tight and heady as you flick your gaze back up to the darkening oceans of his eyes.
His lips crash into yours without another word, his speed catching you off guard as you gasp into his mouth. Bucky lifts you up like you weigh absolutely nothing and your legs circle around him as he holds you up, his lips never ceasing as he walks you out of the kitchen.
You only part to catch your breath, your forehead against his as he strides into the bedroom, your heavy breaths intermingling. Your hands are in his hair as your arms are wrapped around his neck.
He sets you down on the bed before backing away, granting you space you didn't ask for. You look at him, clearly not happy with the distance he'd put between you. Before you can say anything, Bucky speaks first.
"Are you sure you wanna do this?" he asks intensely.
You look at him for a moment, hoping he can see the sincerity in your eyes. "If I'm being completely honest, Bucky, I've wanted you from the moment I met you. I wanna do this," you answer him. "I'm sure. Are you?"
Bucky pulls off his shirt as you breathe a sigh of relief, a soft titter escaping you as you watch him. He steps closer to you, taking your face in his hold, kissing you deeply. “I’m more than sure,” he speaks against your lips before pushing you back on the bed. The move has a scene playing in his mind and has him hesitating from going further as shame creeps up on him.
“I-,” he squeezes his eyes shut as he thinks through what he’s about to admit to, “I need to tell you something first.”
“What?” you ask, worry clear in your voice.
“I, well.. Hold on,” he says before getting up and leaving you sitting on the bed confused and concerned. 
Bucky returns with the tablet in hand as you eye him.
He looks like a kid about to confess his wrongdoings, eyes down on the tablet as he approaches you slowly.
“I, uh. I came across this, and.. Uhm,” he clears his throat, “I,” he takes a heavy breath, “I.. watched.. it.” he says stuntedly. “Well, not all of it, but more than I should have..”
You’re confused as he hands the tablet over to you, but take it with a quirked brow.
An image of Bucky shirtless is on the screen and you trepidatiously hit the play button, wondering what the video could possibly be. 
Your eyes go wide as you see yourself on the bed in lingerie, Bucky sporting nothing more than a pair of tight boxers. You look up at Bucky still standing before you as a blush grows on his cheeks. You watch, still wide eyed as it goes on. You’re on your back, Bucky leaning over you, and god help you, there’s a tingling in your core growing as you look on.
“No way,” you say in disbelief as it suddenly connects in your mind, eyes flicking back and forth between him and to the screen. “Is this-? Did we-? And you watched it?” you ask, scandalized as your gaze shoots back up to him. 
He rubs the back of his neck self consciously, avoiding your gaze. “I know,” he says sheepishly - you’ve never seen him like this and it’s honestly a little entertaining, a bit endearing. “I’m-” your moan coming from the speaker cuts him off and grabs your attention as you look back down at the screen, mouth going dry as your core is anything but. 
“Fuck,” you breathe as you watch Bucky on his knees, between your legs. You almost stop breathing before you look away, catching yourself and pausing the video. “Uhm. Well, that’s- this is.. Unexpected. I mean, obviously we- they- have.. sex, but, a sex tape?”
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have watched it, especially not as far as I did, and I just-”
“How far did you watch?” you ask, cutting him off.
You watch as he swallows hard before sitting down next to you, taking the tablet and scrolling to about the point he had stopped when he closed the video.
“Twenty five minutes?” you ask with a light laugh, looking at the time stamp, the screen paused on a still of you pulling him down on top of your naked body. 
“I’m sorry,” he says again, clearly ashamed of himself. You can’t help but laugh, loving how remorseful he seems.
“‘S’okay,” you say with a light shake of your head, pulling the tablet from his hand and locking the screen, tossing it on the opposite side of the bed. It’s not until you straddle his lap that he looks at you finally, his hands coming up without thought to hold your waist. His eyes twinkle with something akin to wonder. “I get it, can’t blame you,” you admit, your arms draped over his broad shoulders before slipping them behind his neck. “It’s hot,” you speak sultrily, leaning closer to him, allowing your lips to brush his briefly.
His eyes fall to your lips as he breathes headily, pulling you flush to him as he holds you tighter. “You think?”
“Mhm,” you nod, your chest brushing against his bare one with your every breath before you finally let yourself kiss him once again, your noses brushing against one another. 
His arms still holding you, Bucky turns you both onto the bed, ending up above you as you continue your soft makeout. His hands wander your body, touching and squeezing your softness lightly as you sigh under him, your hands wandering his body in turn. You feel like a teenager, experiencing something you’d only thought about in the far recesses of your mind for the first time, it’s intimate and exciting and you don’t even care to take this any further, your focus only on feeling each other, on being this close.
The ringing of the tablet, though, breaks through the moment. You glance over as Bucky continues kissing you, his lips on your neck as you try to read the screen - but it’s too far and out of your reach.
“Bucky,” you urge him, causing him to finally break away from you, turning to look at who was calling. 
His eyes squint as he sits up, reaching for the tablet and answering the call.
“Steve?” he answers in question. 
“Hey, sorry to interrupt, Buck. Linc’s having a hard time going to sleep, he wanted to talk to you again, I told him I’d give you a call.”
“Yeah, yeah, put him on,” he responds.
There’s a sniffle before Lincoln’s soft voice comes through the speaker, “Daddy?”
“Hey, buddy, it’s me. What’s going on, having trouble sleeping?” he asks, sitting up more attentively as you watch him.
“Miss you,” Lincoln answers solemnly, you can imagine him rubbing at his teary eyes already as you hear him sniffle again, your heart clenching at the image. “I need Wolfie, Daddy. You forgot to bring Wolfie,” you can hear his pout over the line.
“I’m sorry, pal,” Bucky apologizes sincerely, despite neither of you having had any knowledge of “Wolfie” being a necessity. “How ‘bout we bring you Wolfie?” he asks before looking over to you briefly.
“Yeah, can you bring him to me please, Daddy?” he puffs.
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll bring him right now, buddy. Don’t worry, we’ll be there soon, I promise.”
“Okay,” he says, voice wobbly. “Love you, Daddy,” he adds breathily on a huff, sounding on the very verge of tears. 
“I love you, too, buddy. We’ll be right there.”
“He’s on his way, champ,” Steve says as he takes it off speaker, bringing the phone back to his ear. “Sorry, guys,” he offers to you both.
“Don’t worry about it, we were just, uh,... hangin’ out,” he says, scrunching his face at his own stupid response as you give him a ‘what the hell’ look, your hand gesturing of its own accord.
“Oh-kay,” Steve says at the odd response, “What is up with you guys today?”
“Uhhh,”
“Wait, don’t tell me.. Are you guys expecting again?” he asks, voice hushed.
“Yeah,” Bucky answers stupidly on an exhale, your mouth dropping while you gawk at him. 
“Really?” 
“No,” Bucky answers quickly again, “I mean, maybe. We don’t- we’re not sure. We don’t know,” he tries to remedy his previous baseless answer. “Look, I have to find Wolfie, so I’ll see ya in a minute.” He doesn’t wait for Steve to respond before he ends the call on his end.
“What the fuck was that?” you say on a titter.
His face is in his hands as he sits on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, “I don’t know.” His response is muffled by his hands as you crawl over to him, pushing on his back to make him stand up.
“Go get the wolf,” you say as you push on him.
As he stands, you get off the bed, too, throwing his shirt at him before he turns to the door. 
“Ya know, you’d think you’d be better at this,” you taunt, earning a glare from him as he heads to the kid’s room down the hall. 
“Can you go start the car?” he huffs as you watch him walk away.
You stifle a laugh through your nose, “Mhm,” you answer before heading down the hall yourself, grabbing the keys on your way out.
As you turn to close the front door, you’re surprised as Bucky’s already behind you, the plush white wolf in hand. 
“You’re so slow,” he teases, taking the keys from your hand while you blink up at him, a smirk on his face as he passes you while you just watch, your turn to huff. 
“Dick,” you accuse as you follow him, his smirk only growing at your insult before he gets to the passenger door, holding it open for you to get in.
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mypoisonedvine · 10 months
Text
𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗻𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝗯𝗼𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗻 | joel miller x reader x emmett
𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | the last thing you wanted to do was make emmett jealous, or question your loyalty to him; but as it turns out, he may be a little more supportive than you expected when he catches you looking at joel miller.
𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 | 7.1k
𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | smut - 18+ only (threesome, established relationship, sharing/hotwife kink, daddy kink, oral m and f receiving, anal and DP, creampie, light choking, overstimulation/multiple orgasms, some very gentle/mild degradation, tons and tons of praise), implied age gap (not specified, obviously reader is an adult), takes place in the last of us universe but pretty much porn without plot lol so don't overthink it
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In the last year of traveling with Emmett, you’d mostly avoided the QZs.  He said that the people there were cheats and liars at best— and that’s to say nothing of the corrupt military leaders that actually ran the place.  However, desperation puts people into positions they never expected to be. 
After all, you would’ve never imagined being with a man like him, though in this case you meant it in a good way— that you never thought someone as brave and resourceful as him would want somebody like you.
But, that said, you made yourself useful when you could.  The best thing you could offer was your medical knowledge, and you were always the one tending to Emmett after injuries or illness.  Still, he promised that he loved you for who you were, not what you could do for him.  He was shockingly gentle, and passionate, especially for someone who had been forced to be rather ruthless to survive in this new world.
So, while you had been avoiding the quarantined areas and sticking to abandoned strips of forest and city, a lack of food out there forced you to venture to Boston— or, what was left of it.
Fortunately, you'd found more hospitality here than you expected.  Maybe it was just pity— and wanting some more of that ammo Emmett had sold him— but a man named Joel Miller had given you a place to stay and helped you earn some rations here so you could finally eat.  He reminded you of Emmett in some ways: stoic, hardworking, and generous beneath that hardened exterior.  But Emmett had become much more sensitive and open with you in your time together, and Joel was all but a stranger.  Sometimes he was so stern that he almost seemed irritated with you, but he kept letting you and Emmett stay, so he must not have been too annoyed by you.
And, you helped him how you could— like when he was in yours and Emmett’s room, sitting in the chair and talking to Emmett about something to do with tomorrow’s open jobs, and you noticed a cut across his palm.
“I-I can help with that,” you offered softly, motioning to the injury.  “Do you want me to bandage it for you?”
“It’s not that bad,” Joel shook his head.
“It’s easier to clean it now than worry about an infection later,” you reminded him.
Though he seemed a little tense, glancing at Emmett for a moment, he relented with a nod.  You smiled lightly as you stepped forward and knelt by Joel’s feet, picking up his hand and examining the cut.
Once you figured what it needed, you quickly hopped up to rifle through your bag, bringing back a disinfectant wipe and a roll of gauze.  Holding his hand open— and feeling a little flustered from touching his warm, rough skin— you carefully wiped up the cut.  “Does it hurt at all?” you asked him.
“Not too bad,” he replied lowly.
“You should see Emmett when I’ve gotta wrap him up,” you giggled, “he always acts like what I’m doing hurts more than when he actually got the injury in the first place.”
“Hey,” Emmett warned you in a stern voice, but you smiled up at Joel who returned with a small smirk.
“Alright, all better,” you hummed as you finished bandaging Joel.  “Let me know if it’s hurting you too much, that’s a bad sign.  Don’t just ignore it and act tough, okay?”
Joel seemed a little uncomfortable— if not sort of amused by— taking orders from you, but he nodded.  “I’ll let y’all get to bed now,” he decided as he stood up.  “Sleep well.  Lot of work to be done in the morning.”
“G’night,” Emmett offered him with a nod.
You felt a little strange, him standing up fully while you were still on your knees on the floor.  “Goodnight, Joel,” you said, your voice sounding sweeter and girlier than you intended.  Your face felt warm— you worried Emmett had noticed the change in your voice, too, but would he think much of it if he had?  
Thankfully, he didn’t say anything about it that night, simply pulling you close when you got into bed, burying his face in your neck.
But the next night, that was a different story.  You weren’t actually going to sleep yet, even though it was late enough for it— he’d already changed into an old t-shirt and pajama pants, while you were still in your dress, but he’d laid back on top of the sheets and patted the bed, silently asking you to join him.  You smiled and obeyed, of course, leaving the lamp on as you slipped in by his side.
Emmett held you gently, rubbing your back as you laid your head on his chest.  “You’re not too tired, are you?” he asked quietly.
For what? you wondered, but just shook your head instead.
“We can stay up a little longer,” he decided.  “Didn’t get a chance to hold you all day.”
“Yeah,” you sighed wistfully, nuzzling in more as you squeezed his torso a bit.
“Or talk to you much,” he continued.
“Was there something you wanted to talk about?” you asked, looking up at him from your head’s happy place on his shoulder.
“Just something I noticed,” Emmett replied, looking back at you sweetly as he brushed your hair aside with his fingers.  "I think you've got a crush on Joel."
You froze, face getting warm in an instant.  "I-I only want you, Emmett, I swear— you know I would never—"
"Shh, shh," he soothed as he chuckled a little, "it's okay, baby.  I'm not angry with you… you're not doin' anything wrong."
"Really?" you asked nervously, and he nodded.  "I thought you might be jealous…"
He shook his head and laughed a little.
"I-I just think he's handsome," you explained, "and sort of nice— but that's really it!"
"It's alright, baby," he purred, "cause you know something?  I was talking to him earlier today, and he wants you too."
Your sat up and your eyes went wide as you tried to imagine that conversation.  You could hardly believe that that was true, let alone that Joel has admitted it to Emmett… or had Joel approached Emmett about it, asking for a night with you?  Oh god, your head already hurt trying to wrap itself around this…
"I know how hard it is to keep a naughty little thing like you satisfied," Emmett explained with a smirk, sitting up with you and speaking softly beside your ear.  “I'm willing to bring in a little… outside help."
Just then, the door opened slowly and Joel stepped inside.  You watched him, totally unsure how to feel, as he shut the door behind himself, and then his eyes met yours.
"C'mere," Emmett offered to Joel, patting the bed beside you two.  "No need to be shy, Miller."
You watched as Joel took a seat on the bed, and you looked at Emmett as you lowered your voice.  "You don't have to do this for me," you promised him softly.  "You know I love you— I only need you—"
"It's okay," he soothed as he pet your face.  "I told you, I'm not angry.  I want you to do this."
"You… want me to?"
"If you want it," Emmett replied.
You shivered as Joel leaned forward a bit, reaching out to gently rub up and down your leg.  "What do you think, princess?" he asked softly.  "Don't worry, you're not gonna hurt my feelings if you say you don't wanna—"
"I want to," you admitted quickly, afraid to lose your courage if you waited any longer to say it.
Both men smiled at you as you looked back and forth between them; Joel's warm brown eyes against Emmett's steely blue ones… they were so similar, and so opposite, in so many impossible ways.
Without saying anything, Joel suddenly lifted your chin and guided you into a kiss.
You felt strange kissing someone other than Emmett, something you hadn't done in quite some time.  Joel's lips weren't as soft as Emmett's, and his kiss wasn't as gentle; he moved his hand to the back of your neck to hold you close, gently pressing his tongue into your mouth.  It wasn't too aggressive or anything, but it was certainly quite forward.  Emmett's hands were still on you, gently rubbing your back, and you reached back to find and hold one just as your other arm wrapped around Joel's broad shoulders.
Joel made you gasp by breaking away to kiss at your neck instead; you squeezed Emmett's hand slightly.  "Fuck, she sounds so pretty," Joel noticed when you moaned at his teeth teasing your pulse.
"Yeah," Emmett agreed.  "She can get loud, too, so let's just hope she doesn't wake anybody up…"
Joel pulled your hand away from Emmett's and guided it to the bulge in his jeans; you sighed as you felt it, a hot feeling stirring in your chest.  "See how you got me all worked up already?" he scolded you playfully.  "C'mon and take it out for me."
Your hands were shaking more than you realized when you brought them to unfasten his belt… it felt new, and exhilarating, and a little scary as well, to be with someone new after so long.  But you remembered when it was new with Emmett and it felt like this, exciting and weird and wonderful all at the same time.  But you'd known Emmett longer before anything happened between you— you'd only met Joel a few days ago.
Joel exhaled sharply through his nose when you reached into his boxers and wrapped your fingers around his erection.  It was so hot to the touch, you were worried your fingers felt cold to him, but he didn't seem to mind much.  You shuddered as you released it from the fabric, your mouth falling slack and your hand instinctively beginning to stroke it gently.
Joel's cock wasn't as long as Emmett's, but it was thicker, with a slight curve to one side.  Regardless of exactly what it looked like, you were just amazed to see and stroke another cock but Emmett's— it had been so long, and you hadn't been with all too many people before Emmett anyways.
"Show him what you can do, baby," Emmett encouraged in a low voice, and you nodded as you leaned down to capture Joel's cock between your lips. 
He hummed as you licked and sucked the tip, swirling your tongue over the head.  But he groaned aloud when you dipped lower and took as much as you could into your mouth, letting the tip of his cock bump into the back of your throat.
Then you set your pace, hollowing your cheeks and slowly moving up and down on his length.  Your jaw ached slightly already and you'd only just started.
You felt Joel's hand on the back of your head, not pushing you down but just guiding you in your movements.
"Mm," Joel praised with a grunt.  "Your girl's got a sweet fuckin' mouth, Emmett…"
"Yeah," he agreed, "and she loves using it— gets her so wet, feel it."
You whimpered slightly as Joel reached back over you and pulled up your dress, slipping a hand inside your panties.  His fingers curled through your lips, even toying with your swollen clit for a moment, and you moaned around the thick cock in your mouth.
"Damn," Joel chuckled, "she's soaked."
You broke away from Joel and turned around, looking at Emmett expectantly as you sat on the bed.  "Can I suck you too?  Please?"
Joel chuckled a little as Emmett nodded, letting you pull his pajama pants down as his hard cock bounced free.  It was nice to get back to what you knew for a moment, and you didn't hesitate at all to take hold of him and lick a long stripe up his shaft.
Joel took the opportunity while you were facing away from him to toss up your dress and pull your panties down; he purred at the way the fabric stuck to your pussy, peeling off slowly with all the wetness there.  "Fuckin' gorgeous," Joel groaned as he got a good look at it.  
Two thick fingers rubbed over your clit until your toes curled; putting your head down in Emmett's lap to suck him sort of forced your hips up, nearly at eye-level with Joel, and feeling him explore you so gently made you feel exposed in the best way.
He slid one finger into your hole, just one, and you clenched down on him.  "Damn," Joel groaned.  "I don't know how you find the energy to do anything but fill this pretty little pussy of hers, Emmett."
But Emmett wasn't really paying attention to him— he was watching you with heavy eyes and a slack mouth, petting your hair as you bobbed your head on his cock.
"Just like that," Emmett praised you quietly.  When you moaned around him in response, it turned into a muffled cry as Joel suddenly took his finger out of you and replaced it with his tongue.  His hands held your ass and kept you spread wide for him, burying his face in your pussy and tasting everything his tongue could reach… which was a lot.  Your whole body quivered when he licked a long stripe up from the base of your clit all the way up, higher and higher, even running over that hole as you shuddered.  
Your moans vibrated through Emmett's cock and his hand in your hair tightened into a fist and tugged on you a bit.  "Fuck," Joel moaned against your soaking folds, "tastes even better than it looks."
"Feels even better than it tastes," Emmett promised with a smile, though he snarled as he pulled your head off of him by your hair and guided you into a rough, dominating kiss.  He all but threw you back towards Joel, and you were sort of dazed and moving on instinct as Joel turned you around to face him.
But as you leaned down to suck Joel's cock again, he stopped you with a hand around your neck.  "Taste yourself first," he ordered before he kissed you, diving his tongue right into your open mouth as you whined at the tangy flavor of your arousal coating his lips.  
He pulled you back from the kiss with a growl, holding your hair and examining your face— you must have looked fucked out already, panting through your mouth and looking at him as you waited for your next instruction.
“Was she always this desperate?” Joel asked Emmett, though he was still looking at you. “Or did you train her?”
“A little of column A, a little of column B,” Emmett replied with a light chuckle.
He shoved your head back down into his lap, guiding his cock to your waiting lips and groaning when you swallowed it down.  “Good fucking girl,” he praised.  “So fuckin’ dirty— damn, that tongue…”
You gagged harder on Joel’s cock when you felt Emmett toying with your clit, teasing you with slow and delicate circles that made your toes curl.  “Wanna fuck her?” Emmett asked Joel simply; your hole pulsed in anticipation.  The way they talked over you, like you weren’t even there, was sort of irritating: but it made you so desperate, and you couldn’t even figure out why.
Joel just laughed.  “Are you kidding?” he wondered.
It was Emmett’s hand that pulled you off of Joel’s cock, but Joel grabbed your neck— not too tightly, just enough to make you let a whimper out of your open mouth— and flared his nostrils as he stared closely at your face.
“Get on your hands and knees for me,” he ordered firmly, and you nodded right away.  They both let you go and you took the position, feeling a little shy again suddenly— like you had any right to be shy now.  You faced Emmett, your hands on either side of his lap as he sat up on the bed, and he reached up to hold your face as you heard Joel get up and kneel behind you.
He teased you by running the head through your folds a few times, your lip catching between your teeth as the tip bumped against your swollen clit.  Emmett studied your face closely, watching your mouth go slack and your brows knit together as Joel pushed just barely inside you.
And then you cried out, far too loud, because he shoved the rest of the way in at once.  "Shit," Joel hissed, "fuckin' tight little thing.  Fuck."
You could feel his gaze on your hole, no doubt watching himself split you open so wide, when his hands spread your ass open again for a better view.
“Prettiest fuckin’ pussy,” Joel awarded it with a sigh.  “Fuck, feel how good you fuckin’ take that?  Feel how easy this big cock slides right into ya?  Such a sweet little girl…”
Easy was one way to describe it— and yes, you were wet enough that he hardly had any resistance— but it felt like too much to really be easy.  You fluttered your eyes open, not even noticing that you’d shut them, and found Emmett’s gaze still on you.  How was it possible that he was looking at you with so much pride in his eyes?  You bit your lip and returned his stare, whimpering each time Joel thrusted roughly into you.  
"How's it feel, baby?" Emmett asked you as he gently stroked your cheek.
You choked a little, not sure you could find the words for it.  "Different," you managed to blurt out, and both men chuckled a little.
"Yeah, bet it is different," Joel agreed, "don't think I'm gonna be as sweet with'ya as your old man here usually is."
Well, fair enough: Joel wasn't in love with you, so why should he treat you the same?  Actually, your thighs shook a little as you thought about that… Joel just wanted to use you, fuck you like a toy and toss you back to Emmett when he was done.  It should've been demeaning, but it made your back arch a little deeper.
"Yeah, fuck," Joel praised, "she likes that.  Wants me to fuck her harder, I can tell."
“Then do it,” Emmett instructed him.
Joel gripped your hips tightly and slammed into you, making you choke on your own cry.  “F-fuck—” you stammered, suddenly gripping Emmett’s shoulders for stability.
“God,” Joel choked behind you; you could feel the bandage you’d given him as his hands held onto your hips, keeping you steady so he could pump into you as hard and fast as he liked.
You whined and dropped your head on Emmett’s shoulder, hearing him gently soothe you as each thrust rocked you forward into him.  “Takin’ it so well,” he praised softly, “that’s my girl…”
Emmett started to push your dress down your arms and chest, exposing your tits for his big hands to rub slowly; Joel reached around and felt them too— and four hands on you felt like more than you could keep track of.  A hand running up your thighs, squeezing your ass, teasing your tits, even wrapping around your throat and threatening to tighten… you were overwhelmed, in the best way.
"God, she's so perfect," Joel breathed.  "Can't believe you let me borrow her."
"Just don't come inside her," Emmett instructed, "that's just for me."
"Fuck, I don't mind," Joel grunted, "think I'll like painting that pretty face…"
“She swallows, too,” Emmett smiled, “if you like that.”
“Like it?  Fuck,” Joel laughed, “that’s fucking hot.”
“E-Emmett,” you whimpered in protest, “I never… I’ve never done that for anybody but you…”
“Well, it’s not so different for anybody else,” Emmett assured you with a chuckle.  “You’ll swallow his come if I tell you to, won’tcha?”
You bit your lip and nodded.
“Good girl.”
That was all you really wanted— to be good for him.  And you felt your chest fill with pride knowing he was happy with you now, even if you’d never expected this to make him happy.  He could be very protective of you, and you assumed he would never want another man to lay a hand on you— he’d killed men for less, actually.  But you realized that there was a massive difference: those men had threatened to hurt you, had scared you, had tried to take you from him.  Joel was the first man other than Emmett that you’d trusted, let alone shown any interest in.  Emmett was too busy fighting off creeps to mention that he didn’t actually mind good guys getting a chance with you, apparently.
Joel kneaded a handful of your ass roughly, and you whimpered when you felt one of his fingertips start to rub gently against your other hole.  “What about this hole?” he asked with a groan.  “This just for you, too?”
Emmett grinned a bit.  “She’s only done that a few times… what do you think, baby, wanna let Joel try your ass?”
It was already quite an ordeal to get Emmett to fit in there, and you whined just imagining Joel trying to fit that thick cock in your ass— “Oh my god, she just got so fucking wet,” Joel noticed.  Clearly, imagining it was having some effect on you.  “Think she wants it— don’t ya, sweet girl?”
Though your cheeks burned with shame, you nodded, and both men chuckled darkly.  “Warm her up first,” Emmett suggested.
“Of course,” Joel agreed, “wouldn’t wanna break your toy.”
You moaned just from him saying that, before he’d even started to gently press his finger inside you.  He spit right down onto it as he slid the digit inside, making you clench around him— both ways.  He hummed lowly, twisting and curling the finger into you, still fucking your pussy (though slower than before, thank god).
You gasped as a second finger carefully slid in, almost pushing you too far and making you wince slightly— but Emmett soothed you and kissed the side of your face, rubbing your back to help keep you relaxed.  “You can take it,” Emmett promised, “be my good girl, okay?  Let him get you ready.”
You nodded and clung tighter to Emmett, moaning when Joel twisted his fingers around and even curled them a bit inside you.  “Not too much, is it?” Joel wondered when you whined loudly.
“No, she’s tougher than she looks,” Emmett answered— you sort of thought that question was for you, but you were too desperate to answer properly anyways.
Joel could pump those fingers in and out of you now, picking up the pace slightly to match the way he thrust his cock into your cunt, but when he tried to spread them a little wider he didn’t have much luck.  “Still too tight, I think,” Joel noticed with a laugh.  “Y’sure she can get stretched out enough for it?”
“Yeah,” Emmett promised, “I can help, hold on—”
He brought two fingers to your open mouth; you sucked on them instinctively, shutting your eyes and moving your head forward to swallow them as deep as you could.  What Joel said before suddenly made sense— he really did have you trained.
You bobbed and suckled on Emmett’s long fingers, hearing him whisper his praises to you before he suddenly pulled them out— your open mouth chased after them for a second, and Joel seemed to notice with a small, condescending laugh— and reached over your back, pushing the slick fingers into your hole right beside Joel’s.
“Fuck!” you yelped at the feeling, legs shaking as you realized you’d never been this full: a cock and four fingers, it was more than you’d ever imagined.
Joel groaned a little, picking up the pace of his thrusts into your pussy again, and you did your best to breathe steady as those fingers pumped in and out of you.  You couldn’t deny the way it turned you on— none of you could, you could hear it as Joel fucked you slowly.  “She’s fuckin’ dripping, Emmett,” Joel noticed with a sigh, “she really likes this little ass played with, huh?”
Emmett laughed and nodded in agreement.  “She likes doing what she’s told,” he clarified.
“Such a good little slut,” Joel praised, and you whimpered before Emmett kissed you again.
They continued that way until you worried you’d start begging for a cock in your ass if they made you wait anymore— thankfully, they didn’t make you embarrass yourself like that, Emmett felt with his fingers and saw in your eyes that you were ready.  Pulling his fingers out of you, he glanced at Joel behind you: “Go ahead,” he offered simply.
Joel’s fingers left your ass, too, and you felt empty there but different— when his cock slipped from your cunt, you gasped a little at having nothing inside you for the first time in a while, and you glanced back at him.  “Yeah,” Joel encouraged, “keep lookin’ back at me while I put my cock in your ass.”
You felt a little awkward doing that, but you did it anyways, biting your lip as he met your gaze and lined up his thick head with your stretched ass.  He was still soaked from being in your pussy, and your ass was pretty much dripping with spit now, so he didn’t have too much trouble pushing into your puckered hole— but it was still tight, and you still winced (but kept your eyes on him, of course).
Even with all that prep, you shuddered and whined as Joel slowly slid into your ass— he savored every inch, licking his lips and groaning as he stretched you wider and wider.  He seemed to just get thicker, even at the very base of him, and your eyes rolled back when he was seated in you all the way.  And then he punched his hips just that little bit more, apparently intent on burying himself in you as far as humanly possible; you gasped and hugged Emmett tighter, turning your head towards him again but shutting your eyes tight from the sting of the stretch.  
“God fucking damn,” Joel moaned, digging his fingers into the skin of your hips, clearly trying to control himself.  “Fuck, Emmett, you’ve really got yourself such a perfect little fucktoy— where’d you find her?”
Emmett smiled wide, stroking your hair and looking at your face— painted with filthy pleasure— tenderly.  “She found me,” he answered.  “Still got no fuckin’ idea how I got so lucky.”
Joel started to move, making you tighten your hands into weak fists, and set a careful pace that gave you some time to adjust… even if not quite as much as you would’ve wanted.
A sudden, sharp thrust nearly knocked you forward— thankfully Emmett was there to catch you— and you moaned loudly.  Emmett laid down slightly, letting you lay on top of him and hide your face in his chest.  “That’s my girl,” he praised quietly.
As Joel’s movements sped up a little more, he sighed, seeming to find a comfortable pace (for him, at least) as you forced yourself not to tense up: it didn’t hurt, but it was certainly an intense feeling, especially when you felt Joel’s heavy balls slap against your dripping pussy.
"This'll be better than coming on your face," Joel grinned.  "Filling up this tight ass, fuck, you're so dirty, baby…"
You felt someone move your hips down a bit, changing the angle of it all, but you were too lost in it to even know who it was.  Emmett kissed your neck, teeth teasing your pulse, and you whined— you would beg him to bite you and leave a mark that everyone could see, if you could speak at all right now.
Your legs ended up straddling Emmett’s lap, and you gasped when you felt his cock press against your pussy— you'd been too distracted to even notice him taking it out— and he cooed at you sweetly.  "You can take both, right?" he asked quietly.  "You've always got room for me, don't you?"
Though you were still intimidated by the idea, you nodded as you bit your lip.
"That's my girl," Emmett praised, grabbing your hips and pulling you down onto his cock.
You almost screamed at the feeling of being so full, digging your fingers into Emmett’s shoulders.  He looked up at you with eager eyes, watching you struggle to take them both— but you eventually relaxed enough to sink down and fit them both to the hilt.
“Good fucking girl,” Joel praised with a groan, holding on tight to your hips as he started to move again slowly— as for Emmett, his hands moved from your waist to your head to guide you into a sloppy, needy kiss.
Your moans were loud yet weak, your shaky hands clutching at Emmett desperately as they both pumped into you.  Joel seemed almost overwhelmed by it, too, leaning down over you, growling and biting at your neck and shoulder. 
“F-fuck, dunno how long I can last like this,” Joel admitted, “so fucking tight…”
You jumped slightly when one of Joel's rough hands reached around your hips and slid down to your clit, rubbing at the bud until you jerked back from the sudden intense sensation.
"Just wanna feel you come first, princess," he explained with a purr.
“A-ah, fuck,” you whimpered, shaking all over as you tried to process all that you were feeling.  They moved you around how they wanted you, and at some point Emmett was sitting up and holding you in his lap while Joel kept thrusting into your ass from behind while holding your shoulder— how were you supposed to keep track of all the anatomy of this, while you had two big cocks stretching you open and Joel’s rough, experienced fingers on your clit.
Emmett moaned against your skin as he kept sucking on your neck, meanwhile Joel was speaking gruffly by your ear, sending chills up your spine.  “Can you come, princess?” he asked darkly.  “‘Round both our cocks?”
“Yes,” you admitted in a gasp, “fuck— Emmett, can I come?”
He smiled against your neck; “Of course, babydoll,” he breathed.  “Let’s show Joel how much you love bein’ fucked like a whore.”
You wrapped your arms around Emmett’s neck, dropping your head limply back on Joel’s shoulder as the feeling washed over you: you tightened up everywhere, inside and out, and they both groaned as they watched you give in to ecstasy.  You weren’t even sure whose hands were where anymore, but they were everywhere, and even through your exhaustion you felt desperation guide your hips to move on their own— chasing an even higher pleasure.
“Fuck,” Joel grunted as he watched you go, his own thrusts getting faster and rougher.  “Fuck, that’s so cute.”
You didn’t expect him to describe you like that in a time like this, and you whimpered as your walls flexed again.  You could tell Joel was getting a little desperate himself, that bandaged hand giving your clit a break and holding your hip tightly instead.  “Come in her ass, Joel,” Emmett ordered with a sigh, staring at your face with heavy eyes, “she’s ready.”
He did it pretty much instantly, groaning lowly and tossing his head back with a sharp breath in through his teeth; you felt him flexing, and it stretched your tighter hole even just that much more.  You whined softly at the feeling, hearing distantly little praises from Emmett, and finally Joel finished and pulled out of you with a little hiss.
It was less of a relief than you expected— your ass was still stretched and sore, and Emmett was still so deep inside you… and then, a moment later, you felt that hot trickle out of your used hole.  You felt filthy with Joel’s come running out of you like that, tickling your inner thigh as it dribbled down— but the way Emmett was looking at you seemed to remove any sense of shame you had left.
"God, look how beautiful you are," Emmett grunted as he guided you to move faster in his lap, "men just can't help it with you, can they?  Bet every guy in this town wants you, bet they're all thinking about having you to themselves— but you're mine, huh?  My girl?"
"Yes," you sobbed, "yes, I'm yours— all yours, Emmett, always—"
"Gonna show Joel whose girl you are," Emmett promised with a growl.  "Gonna get this pussy nice and full how you like it."
"Yes," you said again, a needy groan this time— the tip of his cock was hitting so deep inside you that you could hardly breathe, yet you only wanted more.  "Yes, please, please— come in me, daddy."
"Damn," Joel laughed, "she is dirty."
Emmett grinned.  "Only gets that way when she's real desperate.  Needs her daddy's come so bad…"
“Please,” you begged shakily, feeling him pull you closer and start to buck his hips up into you faster; he was breathing roughly, quickly, and you knew that he was getting close, but he had a habit of holding back until he absolutely couldn’t take it anymore just so he could watch you like this for as long as possible.  
Apparently unsatisfied with the speed and control he could reach with you on top of him, Emmett pushed you back down onto the bed, holding your legs and fucking you hard and fast— you cried out, arching your back as his hands slid up to hold your waist.
You gasped loudly when Joel unexpectedly leaned down and sucked on one of your tits; your back arched even further towards it, and you heard him moan against your skin as his tongue circled the hardened bud.  Emmett's mouth suddenly found the other one, without his pace slowing down at all, and you could've screamed right then.  You hadn't realized how sensitive they would be, and never in your life had you had both sucked on at once— it was so overwhelming, it was making jolts of white hot pleasure burst inside you, and fuck Emmett’s cock was filling you just right, hitting that perfect spot—
"I'm coming," you sobbed, "f-fuck, daddy, I'm coming—"
Emmett groaned loudly, his mouth falling slack around your breast as hot breaths fanned your skin.  You felt him starting to flex inside you, and you moaned louder knowing he was filling you so deep.  His grunts were in time with his deep, hard thrusts into you, and you went numb and tingly all over as the orgasm seemed to drain everything out of you.
Finally, he slowed to a stop, moving up to kiss you slow and sweet— both of you breathing heavily against each other, your shaky fingers reaching up to hold his face and run through his hair.
He broke away and sat up with a sigh; you wanted to kiss him longer, but you were too exhausted to even complain, simply relaxing against the bed and almost wincing when he pulled out of your sore cunt.
Emmett sat back and tugged your limp form up a bit, cradling you as he held your back to his chest.  “Oh, look at that,” he whispered just beside your ear, reaching down to rub your thigh, “all’a my come running out of you… both holes nice and full just how you need… so fuckin’ pretty, baby, my pretty little girl…”
You just whimpered sleepily, soaking in the warmth of Emmett’s embrace.
"Why don't you taste her now, Joel?" Emmett suddenly offered him with a smirk.  
Before you could process that idea, Emmett was holding your legs open while Joel dived down between them.  You whimpered as Joel licked up through your folds, your whole body getting hot at the thought of Joel tasting you and Emmett.  He really didn't mind doing that with another man's come?  The idea that he might just be that insatiable for you…
He suddenly latched on to your clit and sucked hard, making you yelp and buck your hips— but Joel and Emmett were both holding onto you tight, keeping you steady as your body shook uncontrollably.
"Oh, that's it's," Emmett praised, "let him taste you, baby— let Joel lick that pretty pussy, okay?"
"F-fuck— s'really sensitive—" you choked out.
Emmett held you tighter, both hands groping your breasts and his fingertips gently toying with your nipples.  “Bein’ so good for me,” he praised in a low, rough voice.  “So fuckin’ pretty when you’re getting your pussy ate, babydoll— never get to appreciate it ‘cause I’m too busy doin’ it.  But you look so fuckin’ cute like this…”
Your back arched, pushing your shoulders against Emmett's chest as he held you, and he trailed gentle kisses along your shoulder and up your neck. 
"Gonna come, huh?" he noticed, pinching your nipples harder until you whined.  "It's okay, baby, let Joel make you come.  Just one more and you can rest…"
“C-can’t,” you choked, “can’t come anymore—”
“Shh, you can,” Emmett promised.  “You can show Joel how good you are for me, huh?  You can come when I tell you to.”
“Fuck,” you sobbed, grabbing onto Emmett’s hand tightly— though your other hand gripped a handful of Joel’s salt-and-pepper hair, making him look up at you with those dark brown eyes…
“Mhm, you can do it,” Emmett continued, squeezing your hand in encouragement.  “Put your tongue inside her, Joel.”
You shuddered and quaked when Joel obeyed, the most filthy sounds filling the room while Joel lapped and sucked at your leaking pussy.  Emmett’s hand— the one you weren’t holding onto for dear life— groped your tits roughly, pinching your nipples hard enough to make you buck your hips against Joel’s face, but Joel still had that iron-tight grip on your hips to keep you where he needed you.
Joel was moaning lowly against your skin, focusing his tongue attention back on your clit— from teasing little circles around it to hard, rough licks right over it.  This time, when he went back to sucking on the nub harder than ever, you knew you couldn’t hold it back anymore.  “Fuck, Joel!” you screamed, making him groan darkly again.  “I’m gonna come!”
Emmett dragged his teeth over the shell of your ear, laughing softly yet wickedly.  “You’re sayin’ his name now?” he noticed.  “You’re not coming for him, baby, you’re coming for me.  Because I told you to.  Yes?”
“Yes, yes,” you promised, chanting it mindlessly.  “Yours, Emmett— fuck, I’m yours, you know I am.  Only yours.”
His hand moved from your breast to your face, turning it far enough to look at him— those eyes were boring into you, and you whimpered with your lip between your teeth as you hoped you hadn’t disappointed him.  “Say it again,” he demanded.
“Yours,” you repeated as you looked into his eyes— even though your imminent orgasm made it harder and harder to keep your eyes open.  “I’m yours, daddy.”
He grabbed your jaw and kissed you hard, his tongue keeping your mouth wide open; he swallowed every moan as you came, moaning himself like he could taste your pleasure in the kiss, holding your hand tighter than ever. 
Joel kept eating you out even when your whole body was shaking, even when your weak little hand was trying to push his head away— he only stopped when Emmett’s hand joined yours, just one touch and Joel lifted his head and sighed.
Emmett guided your hand back up to his face, and you held it (with what little strength you had) as you kept kissing him… though the kiss changed, it went from rough and hungry to soft and slow and gentle.
He stopped kissing you just enough to speak, his thumb petting your cheek so you would open your eyes.  “You did so good for me, babydoll,” he cooed under his breath.
Knowing you had finally done everything he wanted, you melted limply into Emmett’s arms, who chuckled a little at your exhaustion.  
“Looks like you really wore her out, Miller.”
“You did, too,” Joel returned.  “Besides, at that age, I’m guessin’ she’ll be raring to go again by the end of the hour.”
Emmett snorted.  “I can get her begging in five minutes,” he countered.
“Please— m’too tired,” you whimpered, cuddling up tighter against Emmett— but his hand was already snaking up your thigh, teasing further between your legs.
“Too tired, huh?” he taunted quietly, petting closer to your sore pussy until your legs spread naturally to let him touch where he wanted.  “Good girl.”
Two fingers delicately teased you, circling around your clit but never quit reaching it— until you were rocking your hips up to try to find some attention in the right spot.
When he did touch your clit, ever so gently, you shivered and mumbled his name; your eyes still closed, you hid your face in his neck and began to shamelessly rock against his fingers.  He teased your opening, making it apparent how wet you still were, but never dipped inside no matter how hard you tried to tempt him to.
“Please,” you whispered, too desperate to feel guilty for it at all, “Emmett, I need—”
“Jesus,” Joel laughed, “didn’t take long at all, did it?”
“Nope,” Emmett agreed.
“So fuckin’ needy,” Joel groaned.
“Yep,” Emmett responded simply again.  “Tell us what you need, babydoll…”
“I…I need…” you mumbled, face getting warm.  “Need to be full…”
“With what?” Joel pressed.
“Um…” you stalled, nervous to admit it but knowing they wouldn’t rest until you did.  “With a… a cock.”
Emmett snorted.  “Any cock?” he wondered.
“W-well, I figured one of you two—”
They both laughed a little, and you felt silly but your walls tightened against themselves.  “We’re not young like you, sweetpea— it’s not that easy,” Joel explained.  “Gonna need a little more patience…”
“But— but you got me all worked up!” you whined.  “You did that on purpose…”
“Yeah,” Emmett admitted with a purr, “yeah, baby, I did that on purpose.”
You pouted a bit.  “You’re mean sometimes…”
“Mhm,” he agreed with a soft laugh, raising an eyebrow as he looked at Joel.  “How long will it take you to get hard again?”
“Not that long,” Joel answered, “if she puts that mouth to good use.”
Emmett helped you sit up, patting your back encouragingly.  “Go ahead, baby, you know what to do…”
As you crawled towards where Joel knelt on the bed, still totally dazed and exhausted, you realized that tonight was far from over— and that tonight may not be all that Emmett had in store for you.
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clockwayswrites · 10 months
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Both Ways at Once Part 1
wc 868, Masterpost
“You’ve read the dossier?”
The clipped words were in time with their quick steps down the pristine white hall.
“Yes.”
“All of it?”
Danny resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Unlike you, Hellblazer, I read my contracts before I sign them.”
“You wound me, Pomp,” John said, twirling an unlit cigarette between his fingers. “I’m just trying to protect you from the Big Bad Bat. He’s had a bit of a mare over this case. Hell, as a consultant, you shouldn’t even be seeing this with the access level things are at, but…”
“But you’re stuck and need my pretty baby blues on things to help you out,” Danny said, batting his lashes obnoxiously at John.
“Fuck off,” John said without any heat and shoved Danny away. “But the Bat is anxious about it. All the Bats are. If you can help us solve it sooner, then the better, because when the Bats are on edge, everyone is on edge. And it’s a fucking nightmare around here already with all the bloody do-gooders let alone when they’re all worked up about something…”
“Everyone’s on edge, got it.”
“Nightingale,” John said, voice unusually serious— serious enough to make Danny stop even without the hand on his arm. “I’m not saying this lightly. I like you, like you well enough for a psychopomp and whatever the fuck else you are at least. Tread lightly.”
“Got it, Constantine. I’ll work extra hard not to piss anyone off,” Danny said, patting John’s hand with his own tattooed one. Danny picked back up his same quick pace, but his mind now spun trying to figure out what exactly he was walking into. The dossier hadn’t gone into details, just conditions. Supposedly the risk— some side effect created by a villainous magical spell gone wrong— was presently and thoroughly contained. Danny would be able to observe the risk, the individual originally affected, and the items present at the time. He was not to interact directly with the risk, answer it’s questions, or under any circumstance touch it.
It read as a pretty standard contract magical unknown.
John wouldn’t be this concerned by a standard magical unknown. So what was he about to walk into? It seemed like he might actually want to listen to John this time, even if that was always a fifty-fifty chance of being an absurdly stupid idea.
Danny shifted his grip anxiously on the handle of his kit: an old traveling salesman’s briefcase fitted out with a careful collection of haphazard items. Most of the other occult practitioners mocked Danny’s tendency for used items. Half burned candles, old books wiped and rewritten, estate sale candy dishes— odd choices for most people, but for Danny they sang. They spilled the secrets of the world known and unknown to him. He had to trust that between his tools and his skills (let them believe he was a mere psychopomp), he would come out of this at least safe, if not with answers.
Didn’t mean that a few of his tattoos didn’t crawl in warning.
(Who knew what spot of skin that damn ink moth would wander to now.)
“Justice Leaguers,” Danny greeted with a nod as they finally finished winding through repetitive hallways and stopped outside a room.
“Nightingale, thank you for being able to attend to this so promptly,” Wonder Woman greeted him. Of the Justice League members (outside of the Darks) that Danny had interacted with on other consulting gigs she might be Danny’s favorite, so he offered her a smile.
“Of course, it sounded like things were possibly on a time table from the contract, so I’m glad I was between pressing matters,” Danny said. Right then his most pressing matter was a need to find a laundry mat, but the Justice League certainly didn’t need to know that.
“Right, well,” John jumped in when no one else said anything, not that Danny had expected much from Batman with how he was lurking like a shadow. “Er, this way.”
Danny glanced at the room label of ‘containment cells’ as the door unlocked with a clank and hissed open. After John’s warning, he wasn’t surprised that they were taking whatever this was seriously.
There was more white and gleaming metal behind the door. A neat row of spartan cells were set behind thick acrylic glass and metal. Danny’s eyes locked on the figure in the third cell. He stumbled.
He might be sick.
“What the fuck are you all doing?!” The words ripped from Danny in a snarl.
That was a protector spirit.
He brushed past Wonder Woman and through John’s reaching arm.
They had a protector spirit in a cell.
Intangibility washed over Danny, cold as always, as he stepped through the glass wall of the cell.
The spirit stopped in their pacing, the opaque red helmet tilting.
John screamed something at him.
The flashing red of alarms glinted off gleaming surfaces.
Danny reached out and rested his hand over the spirit’s sternum, and they practically crumpled around the touch. Gloved hands clung desperately to Danny’s arm.
A low growl rumbled in Danny’s chest. “They’re hurting you.”
They had a protector spirit in a cell.
How dare they.
----
AN: So, um, yeah. Still sick. Not a cold or allergies at all and not easy to clear up and prob a new life long thing. Which is great. Super cool. I needed more ways to be sick.
But have the start of this thing that I used to take my mind off things! My, what could be going on?? (Also why do I apparently have a tattooed Danny agenda?)
Stay delightful (and well), darlings!
I no longer tag people for various reasons. You can instead be notified by subscribing to the masterpost!
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vivwritesfics · 9 months
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Keep On Rolling - MV1
Chapter One
Summary: Lando's best friend having feelings for anyone on the grid? Impossible, right? She worked with them, sharing her friendship with the grid with the world via the FormulaY/N youtube channel.
After film a video including... spicy water (alcohol), everything changes between her and a certain world champion. Good thing she hasn't had a crush on him since his F1 debut, right?
Right?
2K words
Hello everybody! Long break, I know (life throws curveballs), but I'm taking the blog in a different direction. Hope you guys like my first F1 imagine, I'm really passionate about it.
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"Hello everybody and welcome back to another episode of Paddock Pals," Y/N said to the camera, holding her microphone in her hand. "Now, if you're new to the channel or don't remember the first installment, Paddock Pals is where cameraman James and I go around the Formula One paddock, dressed in the best disguises, and try to have the weirdest interview possible with the drivers," she explained. "Whoever recognises us first wins the game."
Y/N L/N was maybe the biggest name in Formula One youtube. She brought something to the game that nobody else had - access to the drivers.
Growing up as best friends with Lando Norris had its perks. She got to make a career out of her friendship and got to travel the world. She wasn't much into the sport until she met Lando. Now, she was a woman obsessed.
"As you can probably tell, James and I are not yet in disguise. We're filming this the night before so we had head straight there tomorrow, catch them bright, early, and unaware." She was stood in her hotel room in Australia, going over the previous installment of Paddock Pals. "Last time we got caught out by the honey badger himself, Daniel Riccardo. So, this time around, Danny Ric is going to be helping us out by letting us do a pretend interview with him when we need to."
The cameraman walked over to the mirror, showing himself. "This year we're making predictions on who we think will catch us out. I think it'll be Charles this year," he said. "He's been suspicious for a while, always asking when we're doing the next episode."
"As always, I think it's going to be Lando," said Y/N when the camera turned back to her. "I always try to leave him until last because, if anybody is going to catch us out, it's going to be him."
After that, James cut the camera. They needed a break, a moment to gather themselves together. "You really think Charles?" Y/N asked as they changed over the head of her microphone. Usually, it was the FormulaY/N microphone, but she changed it to a generic black one for the Paddock Pals video. "Not Max or Oscar?"
"And why would I say Max?" Asked James with a grin. Y/N glared, but she didn't push. Charles was a good choice. He spent almost as much time with Y/N as Lando did. Her audience loved him, and she lived to keep her audience happy. That was what brought in the money. "Want to put a wager on this one?"
Y/N shook her head. She positioned herself ready to start filming again. They filmed late into the night, Y/N showing off the props and the outfits they were going to wear for the rest of the video. Her phone buzzed once, and they had to film the whole section again.
By the time they were finished they had barely any battery left in the camera and were ready for bed. James had left to go to his own room but Y/N was sitting on her bed, texting Lando. It wasn't anything important, wishing him good luck for tomorrow and complaining about the heat in Australia.
And then it was a restless sleep. When Y/N woke up in the middle of the night, she stayed up scrolling through her comments. It didn't make getting to sleep any easier for her, scrolling through the comments on her youtube videos and social media posts. There were positive fans, most of them seemed to be young women. But there were some, commenting on her appearance and calling her friendship with the grid fake. Some said she didn't know what she was talking about when it came to Formula One, that she was only there because she was sleeping with Lando.
Of course, none of it was true. It played over in Y/N's head nonetheless. Normally, Y/N would text Lando when this happened, but he was asleep. And sleep was desperately what he needed leading up to the qualifying.
Eventually, Y/N fell asleep, her phone still in her hand.
Y/N and James woke up to their alarms in the early hours of the morning. They got up, set up the camera and got into their disguises. "You're so lucky I was obsessed with special affects as a kid," said James as he attached the fake nose to Y/N's face. He placed a bushy moustache under it and handed her the coloured contacts to put in.
Y/N's clothing was heavily padded, hiding her shape. She had her hair hidden up in a cap and an obviously fake press pass. She just had to help nobody looked too closely.
James did his own disguise. He changed everything but the camera, but they just had to hope nobody noticed that, either. Once they were ready and had given an update to the viewers, Y/N and James made their way down to the paddock.
"A lot of people have been asking us to include Alonso and Stroll in these videos. Truth is, I only do these videos with the guys I'm close with. Fernando is such a legend that I get nervous around him, and I just haven't spent that time with Lance," she explained to the camera as they walked.
"And now, for our first victim," said James.
The drivers that walked past were the ones Y/N didn't have anything planned for. Sargeant, Stroll, Checo Perez. Y/N and James waited and waited until somebody came by.
Oscar Piastri. The poor, young Australian was Y/N's first victim. "Oscar! Welcome to your first home race in Formula One!" Y/N shouted, calling him over for an interview. The second question was normal, something Oscar was happy to answer. But then Y/N got a little strange. "As all F1 fans know, the man who had your seat before you loved to do a shoey. Have you managed to try one yet?" The question itself wasn't strange, but it was about to be.
Y/N slowly eased off her shoe as Oscar answered the question. When he answered no, not yet in Formula One, Y/N passed him her microphone. "Hold this for me," she said and picked her shoe up from the floor. She grabbed a can of beer from her coat pocket and poured the contents of it into her shoe. "Here, try mine."
Oscar's eyes went wide. "Uh, no thanks," he said and passed the microphone back to James. Without finishing the interview, Oscar walked away. Y/N couldn't blame him, she would have done the same.
"Warm up complete. Time for the real thing," said Y/N brushing down the hairs of her fake moustache.
The next driver to walk past was poor George Russell.
Y/N went on and on, asking the drivers the weirdest questions she could think of. Most finished the interview, or walked away before it had finished. Halfway through, Y/N had her interview with the honey badger himself, Daniel Riccardo. It wasn't a real interview, but they made it look as such. The end of the interview was made to look like a success.
After that, Y/N interviewed Ocon, Tsunoda, and Leclerc. Charles went on the longest out of any of the drivers. Y/N asked him questions about Ferrari and how sad he is after almost every race. He looked at her with confusion when she spoke, and Y/N thought she had been found out.
Y/N moved on. It was Verstappen next. Y/N asked weird questions and got the perfect response. He definitely knew, she thought as he laughed. Towards the end of the interview, Y/N felt the hat come off her head, revealing her hair. She gasped and turned around to see Charles stood there, her hat in hand. "I knew it!" He cried, using her hat to smack her shoulder. "I knew it was you!"
"And there you have it, folks," Y/N began, placing her hat back on her head. This time it didn't hide her hair. "This years winner of Paddock Pals is Charles Leclerc! What do you win, Mr Leclerc? Bragging rights, of course," she said and passed her microphone to the Monégasque.
Charles did an acceptance speech. Like everything he and Y/N did together, it was all for a laugh.
"That concludes this years episode of Paddock Pals. Thank you everybody for watching. Don't forget to like, subscribe, and join us next week and in Azerbaijan for the next race."
James cut off the camera. "And we're out," he said and pulled off his fake nose.
Y/N did the same, pulling off the fake nose and the moustache from her face. "Did you have any idea?" Asked Y/N, turning to Max. The heat in Australia was sweltering. Y/N worked on taking off her multitude of padded jumpers, leaving her in a loose, classy shirt and a pair of shorts.
Not answering, Max looked away and let out a laugh. Of course, he knew, thought Y/N. Shaking her head, she turned away from him. "Good luck, Super Max," she said and took her leave, walking away from the Paddock.
It wasn't race day, but her viewers didn't have to know that. It was qualifying and Y/N wouldn't miss it for the world. James left the paddock, going back to the room to begin editing the video. Y/N made her way to the grandstands to watch. She loved nothing more than sitting with the McLaren fans to watch the qualifying and the race. In most laces Lando's fans were her fans, but they were also respectful, asking for selfies before the qualifying began so she could watch in peace.
***
Race day meant race day vlogs for Y/N. Everything from getting ready to after the race, the people wanted to see it all. Y/N tried to dress her best for every race, this time a McLaren shirt with a white tennis skirt.
Cameraman James didn't accompany her for race day vlogs. Sometimes he was in them, watching the race alongside her, but that was a rarity. Y/N had a separate camera for her vlogs. The video quality was worse than when James had his big camera, but the quality wasn't what people were there for.
After having breakfast and getting her final bits ready, Y/N headed down to the paddock. It had become a tradition that she heads down there to wish Lando good luck. She filmed herself going down to the paddock and wishing Lando luck, but turned off the camera after that.
"You look tired," said Lando as Y/N put the camera down.
Y/N shrugged her shoulders. "I thought my makeup covered it up," she answered, leaning against the wall.
Rolling his eyes, Lando put his arms around her shoulders and pulled her away from the wall. "You could have texted me if you couldn't sleep."
"And make you tired before the race? No way, Norris."
Lando laughed. "You better get going to the grandstands," he said, walking her to the edge of the garage.
Nodding, Y/N followed him. "Good luck out there, Lando Norris," she said and kissed his cheek.
Y/N filmed herself making her way to the grandstands. She turned off her camera for more selfies with the fans and waited for the race to begin.
The race started smoothly. Of course, Verstappen was on pole, but that's why they called him Super Max. He had Sainz, Hamilton and Leclerc behind him. Lando was stuck in the midfield, but Y/N still cheered him on.
Lap twenty and Lando was taken out of the race. "Shit!" Y/N cried, standing up. She watched as he was stuck in the barrier and thanked God he was near the pits. He drove the car into the garage and Lando climbed out.
Biting her nails, Y/N pulled out her phone and texted Lando.
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Letting out a breath, Y/N pulled out her camera. "Update on the race, Lando has just retired after a crash. He's okay. He's in the garage right now and the race is still ongoing. Our favourite driver might be out of the race, but our second favorite is still going," she said and put the camera down.
Y/N sat back in her seat. She turned her attention back to the race, keeping her phone on and in her lap in case Lando needed her.
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me-loving-woso · 9 months
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Bruises, Apologies and Cookies?
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You already know the drill. I don't know what this is. It took me a month to do it and it's not proofread. It's 17k and you have to imagine this as an AU in which Jorge Vilda is not the coach of Spain, but it's in therapy for his misogynistic tendencies and anger issues, and the Italian national team is actually a good team. I really hope you enjoy this.
Prompt: You start to hook up with Alexia, but then you realise you aren't meant to play against one another. (I'm bad at summaries.)
Here is Part 2
-
You were traveling to Barcelona today.
Your team and the Barca team had organized the game for the Gamper trophy, and you couldn’t wait to play against your dream team. Barcelona and Chelsea have always been the team you supported when you were young, even though you were neither Spanish nor English.
You have always loved playing football since you were little. And the fact that you were raised in Italy and were Italian, one of the best countries to experience football, made your love for the sport grow even more. But you knew you couldn’t go far in your country because women’s soccer wasn’t very developed in Italy, so as soon as possible, you decided to leave for the US. There, you studied to become a physiotherapist and played ‘soccer.’
You weren’t known for your speed or physicality but your football IQ and passes. At first, your coach put you as a striker, but then he soon realized that scoring wasn’t your forte. But when one of your teammates in midfield got injured, your coach put you as a defensive midfielder, and the rest was history.
You would control the midfield and give confidence and calmness to the defenders and midfielders; you had a style that reminded people of Busquets.
In college, you met your best friend, who was also Italian. She was your number 1 supporter; she would always come to your games, cheer for you, and support you even when you transferred to your first real club, Atletico Madrid. 
To the world, you were known as one of the cleanest players in La Liga, your timing was always perfect when you tackled someone, and you were able to anticipate the player’s moves so well that, in most cases, you didn’t even have to tackle them, you would snatch the ball away from them before they could pass it to someone else.
This made you one of the only players to never receive a yellow card for a foul. You only received one when you took off your shirt for scoring the winning goal for the Copa de la Reina.
After two outstanding seasons at Atletico, Chelsea called you, but not even after a year did you send in a transfer request, which you never did; you always waited for your contract to finish.
After a disastrous year at Chelsea, you wanted to go back home to Italy, and two clubs from your country showed interest. Roma and Juventus. You never supported Juventus as a child, so the decision was a no-brainer for you. You were back home, playing for a great team and sharing the pitch with your friends from the national team. You signed a contract until 2024, and you would respect it, even though you received many offers from other clubs, one in particular being Barcelona. But whenever the coach of Barca called, you told him about your wish to finish the season with Roma; they respected your decision and said they would try to get you during the summer window.
-
This left you playing the Joan Gamper trophy against your dream team, and you got the impossible task of marking Alexia Putellas. It was the first time that you were playing against her. Over the years, you had the opportunity to play against her, but between injuries or other stuff, you never managed to do that. So you were looking forward to it. 
During the warm-up, you found yourself stealing glances at her; she was even more beautiful in real life. As you saw her train, you tried to find a way in which you could stop her. She was quick, physical, and loved going deep. So the only way to possibly stop her was to anticipate her and not let the ball go over you to her or stop her before she could pass you. You loved a good challenge.
As soon as the game started, Barcelona came at your defense hard, but you wouldn’t let the ball go past you. As soon as you had the ball, you would pass it to one of your teammates or opt for a long pass if your number 9 was free.
Even though you were extremely clean in your tackles and respectful, you were famous for cursing in Italian whenever you had to run; you hated running, and whenever you would recover a ball, you would subtly celebrate in your opponent’s face. You were very competitive in that sense, and you knew that not many opponents went past you, so this furthered, even more, your competitiveness.
In the first minutes of the game, as you analyzed your opponent’s playing style, you realized nobody would dare to move the ball through the center; they knew they wouldn’t get past you, and you smirked at that realization.
The first time you had to mark Alexia was an offside kick for Barcelona; you shielded her with your hands, not making her move. You were shorter than her; you reached her shoulders, so you knew she could physically overwhelm you well enough, so you had to find another way to stop her. She was brilliant when playing. She could see the spaces and know exactly where to place the ball to her teammates, so you knew that distracting her even a second would help you anticipate her and stop her from going forward. 
As she was trying to unmark herself from you, you wanted to distract her by talking in Spanish, “They always call you La Reina because of your skills, and now that I’ve seen you in action, I can confirm that you live up to that nickname.” She slightly blushes.
“It’s not bad having someone like you watching me destroy your team.” She pushes you slightly to show her teammates that she is free. “I must say, though, that you look pretty good out in the field.”
Now it’s your time to blush; you turn your head to face her quickly, turning your neck upwards to look at her hazel eyes, “Flattery won’t get you past me.” You wink. “But I won’t tell you to stop; I like where this is going.”
Her teammates kick the ball, which makes you both go back into game mode.
The second time you talked to her, it was during a corner. They were using her as a decoy to make your team change the positions on the corner kick, but you soon realized that, and you went to mark her “You know, I think I’m actually enjoying this game more because I’m playing against you.”
“Is that so? I’m glad you are enjoying this. But don’t think I don’t know you are trying to distract me.”
“Me? I would never distract you in any way!” You act offended, putting your hand on your heart.
“Then you are secretly trying to win my heart.” She smirks, taking her eyes off the ball and looking at yours.
“Well, if winning your heart gets me a victory on the field, consider it a strategic move.” You remark, grinning as you see the captain of the other team a fraction of a second distracted, making the ball perfectly fall into your feet.
With a calculated movement, you dribble past her while she gives you a shocked look and sends a perfect ball to your teammate, who starts the counterattack. Nobody was expecting that, so your number nine, Giacinti, ran all the length of the pitch without any dangerous opponents, leaving her only with Paños. She scored, and you were finally 1-1.
As soon as she scored, you could see that Alexia’s expression changed sorrowfully as she blamed herself for the goal while you screamed, running to your teammate who had just scored.
As soon as you get on your field to restart the match, you walk past her, and she shakes her head sarcastically, “I thought I was good at playing mind games, but you, you’re on a whole new level.”
She walked past you, “Mind games? Nah, I’m just enjoying the company of a certain someone on the field.” You remark innocently.
After 45 minutes of intense battle between you and Alexia, in which you basically won all of them, Alexia became increasingly irritated. She was getting more sloppy and aggressive, but you expected that, so whenever you had the ball or just snatched it from her, you would pass it to one of your teammates as soon as possible.
The first half of the game ended, and you returned to the dressing room. You were still on a draw, so you only needed a goal to shock Spain and win the Gamper trophy, which was your objective. So during the break, you strategized ways to score that damn goal. After the 15-minute break, you returned to the pitch and knew what to do.
Roma was starting the second half. Giacinti passed you the ball from the center of the pitch immediately after the whistle, and she began her run. You stopped the ball and kicked it high, precisely where she needed it. She had only to dribble past Ona Batlle to score and did it perfectly. 
For now, you were winning, and you could see that Barcelona was getting even more frustrated. They needed to win that trophy; it was their trophy. 
You again found yourself in the same position as the corner kick-off. Alexia was outside the area, and you were marking her again. “If you get past me, I’ll let you swap shirts.” You smirk arrogantly. 
“You’ll let me?” She chuckles ironically, not making the same mistake and, this time, focusing on the ball.
“Yes, I’ll let you.” You wink at her, putting your arm on her chest, trying to put yourself in front of her. You swear you could hear her heart beat a little faster.
“Are you sure you are okay? I swear I could hear your heart beat faster.” You tease her.
She blushes, forcefully removing your arm from her, “You are making it really hard for me to focus, and it’s not just because of the game.”
“Oh really? Maybe I’m just trying to give you a good reason to remember this match and me.”
“You wish.”
“Joking aside, do you wanna swap shirts after the match?” You quickly glance at her.
“You’ll get to see my shirt every day next season.” She raises her eyebrow knowingly.
“Wait, you know?”
“Of course, I know; I was the one that suggested you to the coach.”
“Really?” You smile dumbly at her, a mistake nearly costing you a goal. She manages to get the ball and throws a beautiful cross, which thankfully was stopped by your defender Linari. You sigh in relief and get back to the game. 
The game was getting more and more aggressive as time was running out. You didn’t know how, but you were still winning. As you were waiting to intercept a long pass from your ex-teammate from Atletico, Mapi Leon, Alexia was trying to anticipate it.
You managed to quickly control the ball, and with your first touch, you passed it to Giugliano. Still, she didn’t see that you already had given the ball away because she raised her knee to try to control the ball, but there was no ball to control. Instead, she hit you where it would hurt the most: right on your groin. It hurt. It really hurt. You wouldn’t expect it to hurt that much when you were a girl, but it did hurt. So much so that you skipped a breath and mumbled in your mother language words that you wouldn’t repeat. The game was still ongoing, but you needed a minute, and Alexia noticed that. 
“Hey, are you okay?” She asks worriedly, putting your hand on your shoulder while you are crouching down.
“Alexia, you didn’t hit the ball. And you got a powerful leg, I must say.” You sit down on the grass, visibly in pain. Your captain, Bartoli, noticed that, and she soon stopped the game and went to you.
“Tutto bene?”
“Si mi serve solo un secondo, questa qui- pointing to Alexia- mi ha dato un calcio.”
“Dove?”
“Nella figa,” You say, putting your hands over your head while your skipper laughs.
“Cazzo ti ridi.” You say, laughing too at the situation. Then, some of your teammates swarmed you, pushing Alexia away, who took a step back embarrassingly.
As your skipper told everyone what happened, some other teammates started laughing, making the tension of the match crack. You show the finger to all the teammates who laughed at you, still in pain. 
“Riesci ad andare avanti?” The defender asks you, trying to keep a straight face.
“Si, si dammi solo un minuto, andate pure.” Your teammates slowly return to their positions, and Alexia approaches you. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t think I hit you that hard.” She gives out a hand for you to grab to help you stand up to your feet.
“Don’t worry about it. It has always been a dream of mine for a hot woman to hit me on the groin.” You chuckle sarcastically, clearly not understanding what you have just said.
“You think I’m hot?” She grins while you clean off the dirt from your shirts.
“So not the point.” You say while returning back to your position. 
The match went on more fluidly, with your team more defending rather than attacking; you unconsciously avoided Alexia all game, swapping marks with one of your teammates for Aitana, which wasn’t at all that better, but at least she didn’t make you feel all hot and confused as the captain of the other team did. Eventually, you did lose the game, 3 to 2, but you thought this was a great way to begin the season.
As you went into the dressing room to get ready for a night out with your friend, you heard the cleats of a person behind you. You turn around, and your body winces, reminding you of the pain that you experienced earlier.
“Hey!” She walks up to you, still dressed from the match.
“Hey.” You reply awkwardly.
“Soo.” She crosses her arms and begins rocking her legs. “You said that if I got past you, you would swap shirts with me.” She smiles innocently, waiting for your reply.
“Well, that was before you made me lose the capacity to have children.” You say dramatically.
“Okay, that’s a little too dramatic. I didn’t mean to hurt you; I honestly thought that I was hitting the ball.” She says sorrowfully, looking down.
“Well, you didn’t.” You chuckle. Making her laugh.
“What were your teammates laughing about earlier?”
“I just told them what had happened. I would have laughed too if I wasn’t in so much pain.”
“Why would you? You were hurt!” She returns her gaze to you while you give her a shy smile.
“Well, you would laugh too if someone like Leo Messi would hit you in the groin like that. Even though I deeply doubt it.”
“So you think I’d have a future as a kickboxer?”
“Definitely.” You beam at her, clearly entranced by her. She was slightly biting her lips in an attempt to shy a smile; you thought to yourself that she had really gorgeous eyes. 
“So the jersey…” She suggests clearly understanding that you were slightly zoned out. You blush, a little embarrassed, and take off your shirt quickly, folding it, and then you hand it to her. 
“It’s a little dirty; I’m sorry.”
“You just ran on the pitch for over 90 minutes; you don’t have to apologize.” She takes it from you as her fingers lightly brush yours. What you noticed was that her hands were warm. It felt weird to you, as most people in your life had cold or sweaty hands, which you hated, but hers were different. They exuded this feeling of comfort that made you miss her touch as soon as she took the jersey from you.
You blink once, trying to return to the real world, waiting for her shirt. 
“Am I going back to Roma empty-handed?” You joke, while she was most definitely not looking at you in the eyes but more at your body, making you feel a little self-conscious.
“Oops, sorry.” She quickly removes her jersey, but as she is about to remove it, she stops, “Now this is embarrassing. I’m stuck.”
You chuckle, standing on your tippy toes, “Can I help you?”
“Yes, please.” You raise your hands, take the hem of her shirt, and pull it up; as soon as her head is free, her eyes lock in with yours, making you gulp slightly at the intense eye contact, lowering your feet, clearly showing the prominent height difference.
“Thank you.” She whispers, never taking her eyes off you. Your mind was getting hazier for every blink of your eyes, and you felt your cheeks redden. You thought you needed to take a step back to recompose yourself and clear that haze in your brain, but something about how she looked at you made you not move for even an inch. “How long are you staying in Barcelona?”
“Tomorrow, we are leaving.” You tell her truthfully without thinking, nor blinking, for that matter.
“What are you doing tonight?” She asks you seriously, moving her gaze dangerously close to your lips.
“I’m going out with Mapi and some of your teammates. We wanted to catch up, and she wanted me to meet some of you guys and her girlfriend.” You say, never moving your gaze from her; you couldn’t.
“ISo we’ll see each other there. And after that?” Her expression exuded an energy that you couldn’t quite understand
“What?”
“What are you doing after that?” She speaks more clearly, enunciating every word.
“I’ll probably go back to the hotel and sleep.” You reply honestly.
“I want to make it up to you. Will you let me do that?” She asks shyly, softening her gaze a little.
You, dumb as you are, don’t get what she was suggesting, making you, for the first time, take your eyes off hers and look down, which uncoincidentally was her chest. Still, right now, it doesn’t concern you that much. “You don’t have to; I know it wasn’t on purpose.” You reply innocently.
What actually concerned you was how nonchalantly, with her index finger, she gently raised your chin, making you look at her again, making you want to giggle from the nervousness.
“Are you sure?” She smirks, clearly understanding the effect that she was having on you.
The following words were some of the most honest words that ever came out of your mouth. “No, I’m not sure.”
She chuckles, “Give me your phone.” She tells you rather than ask you, making you once again be sure about your sexuality.
“It’s in the locker room.”
“Go get it.” She instructs you while she leans against the wall, still shirtless. She clearly knew what she was doing and why she was doing it.
You reply with a short nod, and without saying anything, you walk to the dressing room, your body on autopilot, with your brain still not functioning correctly. You get in the locker room and are soon swarmed by your team congratulating you, but you only have a task in mind: get the phone to Alexia. So, after some short answers, you quickly return to the hallway, searching for the woman.
She had your shirt around your neck with her back on the wall and followed your movements with her eyes, never taking her gaze off you.
You put yourself in front of her, taking her hand from her sides and placing your phone. She turns on the phone and sees your lock screen; it is a picture of your dog. “Cute dog.” She comments while she hands you back the phone so you can type the password. Then you hand it back to her, and she puts her number in your phone.
“If you are not too tired after we go out for drinks with the team if you want, we can do something else later.” She gives you a soft smile, giving you back your phone.
“Something else like what?” You tease her; riling her up is becoming one of your favorite things.
“Anything you are up to.” Raising her eyebrows, you place your hand on her stomach, gently scratching her skin. She stiffens at the contact but then relaxes, giving you a soft smile.
“What makes you think I am going to say yes?” You once again tease her.
“By your willingness to give me your phone and your hand placement.” She smirks while you retract your hand from her almost unconsciously, feeling the heat of your slight embarrassment settle on your face.
She opens her legs to reach your height, and with a small tug, she makes you come closer to her. She takes you by your sides, gently stroking the skin with her thumb. You were rather small-built, and she had big hands, which you were modestly and unceremoniously obsessed about. Her sudden pull on her made you stumble slightly, making you place your hands on her shoulders to stabilize yourself.
“So, what do you say? Will you let me take you out tonight?” You gently massage the back of her neck while playing with her baby hair.
“I’ll let you know.” You remove yourself from her, already missing the contact, and return to your teammates, leaving her in the hallway.
As soon as you sit in your cubby, you open your phone to see if she isn’t lying and actually put her phone number in your contacts. She did. In style, you could say. She saved herself as Your Favourite Kickboxer ;). That woman had some nerve, you thought, but it made you chuckle in surprise a little too loud, which got the attention of some of your teammates. They began asking you why you took so long to return to the locker room or were smiling dumbly at your phone. You soon shut down any suggestive questions and went in for a shower, making your friends more and more curious.
As soon as you leave the locker room, you meet Mapi and her girlfriend outside the pitch; between hugs and greetings, you enter their car and begin driving to a local bar with them. But before entering the place, you cannot not bring yourself not to text the woman who had been on your mind since the beginning of the day.
‘So you are my favorite kickboxer?” ‘I must say you got some nerve. The first time we met, you kicked me in the groin, and then you already put the salt into the wound.’
‘I had to find a way to make you recognize me.’ She replies almost immediately
‘I don’t know many, Alexias.’
‘Where would the fun be if I only put my name on it?’
‘Fair enough. Now I have a place I need to be. I’ll see you later?’
‘And I have a dog to feed. Yes, I’ll be there in 20 minutes.’
You were ordering some drinks and food while most of her teammates came to the bar and introduced themselves to you. But you were only waiting for someone who made you feel more today than any other girl in the last couple of years. 
“So, what happened with Alexia during the match?” Patri, one of your friend’s teammates, asks you.
“Yeah! I thought it was something serious, but then I saw your teammates burst out laughing, so I didn’t worry too much. Alexia was mortified, though.” Mapi adds, making the conversations shift towards you, waiting for you to answer.
“She didn’t tell you?”
“Oh no, she didn’t. She was very frustrated; you basically turned her into a beginner.” Your friend jokes, earning approval from her teammates, praising your skills.
So you tell them what happened, to make some wince, while your friend who has known you for years now releases a surprised chuckle.
“So that is why your teammates were laughing?”
“Yes, they are assholes. You too.” 
“I’m not laughing at you.” She reassures you. “Alexia has never been that clumsy; she must have been distracted.” She raises her eyebrow knowingly.
“I wasn’t distracted; I just thought the ball was still in the air.” You see a figure approach your table, making many heads turn around to see their captain. Her aura made it evident that she was their leader. As if she had this mask on, which showed her subtle leadership, making you smirk thinking that earlier that day, when you saw glimpses of a different Alexia that probably they didn’t see.
“Good game today, Y/n right?” She extends her arm for you to shake her hand. You innocently take it, thinking that if she wanted to play the game that you were strangers and that literally two hours before didn’t grab you by your waist nor kept looking at your lips, you would comply and play her same game.
“Thank you, Alessia, right?”
“It’s Alexia.” She said, a little irritated, still keeping her hand in yours.
“Oh, sorry, you know me, still working on my Spanish.” You wink at her, with both of you knowing that you did that on purpose.
After your ‘introduction’ to Alexia, the team divided into little groups, making you sit with Mapi and Ingrid, who were the real reasons you were there, and Keira and Lucy, whom you had already met playing against them during your time at Chelsea.
“So when are you coming to Barcelona?” Your friends ask you excitedly.
“What makes you think I want you again as a teammate?” You tease her, making her face turn into a shocked expression. Making the other people at the table chuckle at your witty reply.
“Well, Barcelona has always been your dream. We were supposed to transfer together that year, but you abandoned me for Chelsea.” 
“And I still regret it to this day.” You smile sadly, playing with your food. The year you transferred to Chelsea was one of the worst years of your life; you hated talking about it. It nearly destroyed both your career and yourself. “But the past is in the past, and I still have a contract with Roma.”
“Which will expire in 2024…” Your friend suggests making your room your eyes playfully at her. Making her girlfriend give her a warning look.
“Yes. I am well aware of my contract obligations.”
“So, Y/n.” Ingrid tries to change the subject of the conversation. “Are you single? Boyfriend, OR girlfriend?” You see Alexia from across the bar subtly turn her attention towards your table, waiting for your answer, making you internally chuckle.
“Me? No. I got traumatized.” You laugh to not cry. It was still a sore spot for you; your previous relationship ended badly for you, and you would be lying if it didn't make you more adamant about beginning a new one.
You saw people give you a puzzled look, so you explained what you had just said, “I was in a relationship with this woman for more than four years, but then we ended terms badly. But now I’m great! I’m focusing on my career, and I have a dog, so I’m good!” You try to lighten up the mood; you would hate yourself if the mods of the people around you would change because of you.
“You have a dog?” Lucy asks you excitedly. You quickly take off your phone and show her your lock screen with a picture of Argo, your dog. The fact that you had a dog created a lot of attention towards you; the team swarmed your phone to see the picture, making you chuckle shyly at all the attention given to you.
As the night progressed, you and Alexia would often find each other’s eyes and would share a small smile, something that made you look forward to the next interaction that you would have with her.
You didn’t exactly know what was going on between the two of you; she was making you confused, but at the same time, she made your heart flutter whenever you caught her looking at you.
You didn’t know what it was about her tonight, but you thought she looked stunning. Maybe it was the fact that she wore this comfortableness to her actions that made you want to bask in her aura, or perhaps it was the fact that she wore her hair down, and you literally turned into a gay panic for any pretty girl. Realistically, it was more the latter option.
As many of the girls went home or went to get drinks, this left you the opportunity to be alone with Alexia for the first time in the night. When you sat beside her, she was checking something on her phone, and you decided to make the first move. 
“Hey.” You utter, almost whispering. She takes her eyes off her phone and smiles.
“Hey, you. Are you having fun with your future teammates?” She raises her eyebrows knowingly.
You chuckle, shaking your head. “Everybody thinks I’ll become a Barça player, but what if instead I’ll become a Lyon player?” You joke, both knowing that you would never do that. “But yes, I’m having fun, even though there is someone who has been on my mind all evening.”
She looks around to see if anyone is watching your interactions and then leans closer.
“Oh really? Who is this person?” 
“Well, she is very tall, at least for me, and extremely stunning, and did I mention she has a really pretty smile? Oh, She has really beautiful eyes that, if you look closely enough, you can see some shades of green here and there. And, of course, she has a very powerful left leg.”
“I’ll let you know if I find her. For now, you are stuck with me.” 
“Too bad. I really wanted to ask her something.”
“What did you want to ask her?”
“Well, a question has been burning in my mind for the whole evening.”
“Which is?”
“Wouldn’t you want to know?” You tease her as Mapi and Ingrid come back to the table and begin a conversation with the both of you about her cat; then you hear the sound of your phone; you really hoped it wasn’t your coach wondering where you were.
You didn’t expect a text from the person in front of you.
Your Favourite Kickboxer ;)
‘Meet me in the bathroom’
You look at her, slightly puzzled, but she spurs you on with her eyes. She stands up from the table and excuses herself to go to the bathroom, thus beginning your thoughts on what justification to find to excuse herself from the table.
If you said that you had to go to the bathroom too, it felt like it would be weird, but if you threw a glass of water at yourself, it would be deemed as overdoing. Amid the panic, as you feel that time is running out, you do the second option and try accidentally throwing your glass of water on your hands. For your delusional mind, you thought that your plan actually worked perfectly, whereas for the other two people at the table, it just felt confusing and unnecessary.
You quickly go to the bathroom to dry your hands when you feel two hands sneak up on your waist from behind and perfume that is completely intoxicating you. You turn around with your hands leaning on the sink and finally see the woman consuming every fiber of your being just with her gaze. It was hungry, but at the same time, it transmitted this softness that totally fucked up your brain, not understanding clearly her intentions. But you didn’t care as of right now; that would be a problem for the future you. 
“Took you long enough.” She chuckles gently, caressing your clothed waist. 
“I had to find a way to excuse myself.” You put your hands on her shoulders, eliminating more space between the two of you, turning your lips in a soft grin when you saw her hunching a little her back to better look at you.
“Come home with me tonight.” She whispers earnestly while she slots her leg between yours, coming impossibly closer to you. Only a few inches divided you from her, her lips from yours. You didn’t drink that evening but felt utterly intoxicated by her. Everything about her made you want to throw caution out the window or, given the setting, down the sink.
You couldn’t speak. At least not something coherent, so you slowly nodded. Her lips were mere centimeters from yours, making you want so badly and so needily to close that unnecessary space and finally taste her. You thought she was reading your mind because your noses touched, making her wait for you to do the final step. 
You put your hand on her chest, “As much as I want to kiss you.” She released a low moan, making you shiver and forget your train of thought. “As much as I want to kiss you because I really do.” She lets her head fall over your shoulders, lightly kissing your neck, making a shiver course through your body, filling with goosebumps in the area. “We have friends to go back to.”
“Mmm mmm.” She goes back to kissing your neck, lightly pulling your hair to move your head to give her better access, which you obviously grant her.
“Alexia.” You warn her weakly. You were really enjoying what she was doing to you.
“Ten more seconds.” She muffles while she moves her hands all over your waist, shoulders, and back, trying to take you all in, not wanting to let go of the moment.
After at least half a minute, you warn her once again. “Alexia.”
You feel her inhale by the tickling on your neck that the air to her lungs was causing. She turns her head to look at you and then quickly pecks the corner of your lips.
“I’m done.” She quickly goes out of the bathroom, leaving you frozen in the spot recounting what just happened, still feeling her hands and lips on you.
You turn around to the sink and wash your face to sober up. It didn’t work. And you went back inside the bar.
Mapi was paying the check for her and Ingrid, “Oh hey. We are about to leave. Is it okay for you?”
“Oh, don’t worry. Alexia offered to bring me back to the hotel; she told me that she had to go that way to get to her house, so it would not be a problem for her. Plus, I know you live on the opposite side of where I’m staying.”
“Are you sure? Because for me, it’s not a problem.” She asks.
“I’m sure.” You reassure her. You saw Alexia getting her stuff and yours. “I’ll see you during National Break?” You tell her, hugging her tightly, that you missed being on the same team as her.
“Don’t do anything stupid, okay?” She advises you, making you subconsciously look at Alexia, who is talking to Ingrid.
“Me? Never.”
You go to Ingrid, hug her goodbye, and tell her it was a pleasure to have met her. Then Alexia hands you your stuff. And you go to her car together.
In the car, the air filled with a kind of tension that you couldn’t quite grasp. Less than eight hours ago, you didn’t even know each other, but somehow, the ride to her house wasn’t awkward. It was full of anticipation for what was about to come. “How long have you known Mapi?” She tries to break the silence, genuinely curious about how you know her friend and teammate.
“We played for Atletico Madrid together, became fast friends, and have been in contact ever since. It was true what she said; we were meant to transfer together in 2017. We loved playing together. But then life got in the way.”
“You know, it’s so weird that our teams have played so many times against each other, even in Champions League games or Euros, but today was the first time we actually played against each other.” She points out, never moving her eyes from the road.
“Well, look how it played out.” You joke. 
“I already apologized many times, actually. But I already told you I’ll make it up to you.” She smirks, placing her hand on your thigh, drawing little shapes on your jeans.
“I wonder how.” You whisper to yourself, focusing on the hand that is right now inching closer and closer to your center.
As soon as you get to her home, and as she opens the door to her house, you make her turn around to you, and you pin her against the door; with your hands on her muscular waist, keeping her there, you go on your tippy toes, and for the first time during the night, you kiss her. It was soft and made her understand how much you wanted this, almost reassuring. You could see that she was nervous during the car ride, and you wanted to take some of it away. Honestly, you were nervous, too.
You usually weren’t one for hookups; you’d always preferred to have something serious or nothing at all. But there was something about her that made you change that idea.
You knew it was wrong, that after that night, you would probably see her again on the pitch, and knowing what you were doing now would distract you. But she was there, looking beautiful as always, clinging to you, with her hands covering your cheeks, making the consequences worth it.
“That was definitely worth waiting for.” She chuckles, putting your foreheads together. “Let’s get inside.” She utters, almost whispering, taking you by the hand and bringing you inside her home. She closes the door and pushes you to the wall, covering your body with hers. Her hands were roaming everywhere as she brought you into a searing kiss. Her perfume intoxicated your nostrils, and all your senses had become her. You lose yourself in her sensations as she picks you up from the ground as if you weighed nothing, and you wrap your legs around her. You stop the kiss to look at her. She was beautiful. She was wearing a contagious smile that contrasted her blown-out pupils; this softness of her, even during these moments, made you go crazy. 
 “Take me to your bedroom.” You whisper softly, placing a soft peck on her lips.
-
As you lay on her bed in pure carnal bliss, looking at the wall, you thought you were hallucinating. She was actually there, and this was happening, or better, it had just happened. And as you lay there, you thought you were happy. Maybe it was just her or the fact that she had just given you more than an orgasm, something that hadn’t happened for more than two years since you broke up with your ex-girlfriend. 
You were still in your head, which worried the woman lying beside you a little. She shifts to your side and puts a hand on your waist, giving you soothing strokes to ask for your attention. You turn your head, snapping out of your thoughts.
“You okay?” She wonders, furrowing her eyebrows, worried that she had taken things too far. You hated seeing that expression on her, so you kissed her lips, trying to convey all your feelings instantly.
You thought it was an awful lot of emotions for a simple hookup, but that was a problem for a future you.
“I’m great.” You reassure her, shifting, laying on her side, and indulging in some cuddling. She drew patterns on your back while you ran up and down with your fingers through the middle of her chest, making her sigh contently. It wasn’t a touch with any malicious or sexual motive but a way to touch and memorize her body. To never forget the fantastic night that she has given to you.
She brings you closer to her, and your lips meet again. It was the softest kiss that she had given you. You get on top of her, pulling her hands on your back until they reach your breasts, making her understand what was on your mind.
-
That morning, you woke up with your hair disheveled and a nasty headache. You hadn’t slept at all, and you were clearly late.
You look at the clock and curse to yourself. Alexia was still sleeping peacefully beside you, lying on her front, showing all her tattoos on the back. You caress her muscular back, trying to wake her up. This might be a hookup, but you weren’t an asshole, so you would at least wake her to tell her that you would leave, and frankly, you didn’t want to intrude; she might have places to be.
“Ale. Svegliati.” You whisper, making her twitch her eyes, slowly waking up. She opens her eyes to see her surroundings, then closes them again, and her face adorns with the most relaxed smile you have ever seen. You thought you didn’t know someone more cute than she was right now. 
“Hey.” Her voice was still raspy and low, and she had no intention to move from her position. “We fell asleep.” She points out. You were meant to leave around 2 AM to return to the hotel so that nobody would notice you were gone. But now it was too late. It was already morning, and at 10 AM, you needed to take the bus to leave for the airport.
She gets up from the bed and goes to the bathroom, still naked, making you glance at her body hopelessly. You get dressed, putting on the same clothes you had on the night before, when she gets back in the room, with clothes on this time, and sit next to you, putting some shoes on.
“So breakfast?” She asks casually, while you stare at her dumbly, not expecting that question. More expecting her to kick you out of the house. 
“Well, it’s the least you could do.” She continues, almost as if she was stating the obvious. “After all we did last night, we don’t have to act like strangers.” She explains shyly.
“How about coffee?” You offer instead, with both of you clearly not wanting to let each other go. “I really have to be back at the hotel. Actually, I should have been there two hours ago.”
“Sorry. I completely forgot to put the alarm on. Usually, I sleep in after a match.”
“Don’t worry about it. You have already made it up to me enough last night.” You joke, making her crack a smile.
“I had a really good time last night.” She hides her face, turning her head down to look at her shoes.
“Me too.” You reply, placing a hand on her knee. 
“So, coffee?” She turns to you, hopefully.
You slowly nod, standing up and waiting for her to lead. She takes you to this small coffee shop near her house with her dog. Which you finally met, as you were a little too occupied last night to properly meet her.
She brings you coffee at the table, and you fall into a very peaceful conversation that people who have known each other for a long time would have. It was as if you had just clicked. There was no awkwardness, just conversations flowing simply and carelessly. She offers to bring you back to the hotel.
You hug her awkwardly, saying you would see her again during the national break for the scrimmage against Spain, the first game after winning the World Cup.
As you quickly snuck up to your room, hoping nobody from your team would see you, you had a quick shower to wash off the night before and pack up your stuff, clearly focusing a little more on putting away the shirt you swapped with Alexia. As you looked in the mirror, you saw the heavy bags under your eyes. You were sleep-deprived, so you put some sunglasses on to hide it from your curious teammates.
As you are on the way to the bus, you reminisce the night before and mentally curse yourself for all the feelings that you put aside during the whole day for the future you, which coincidentally was you of now. 
You were the last to go inside the bus, making your teammates tease you and whistle jokingly to you, making small comments like “Rough night?” Or “Did you have fun?”
You sit next to your usual roommate, still with your sunglasses on and about to put your headphones in, when she turns to you expectantly.
“So, how was your night out.” Air quoting the last part, giving you a knowing grin.
“It was good. How was your night.” You ask innocently.
“Cut the crap! You have your sunglasses on, you didn’t come back to the room tonight, and you have a slight limp. Who is it? Is it your defender, friend? Or is it someone else from the group?” She wonders curiously, making you roll your eyes at her and sigh loudly, clearly showing her your annoyance.
“A, I did come back to the hotel! You were just asleep!” You try to sound as convincing as possible. “B, Mapi is in a relationship, and she is like my sister! I would never hook up with her!” 
“So there was someone.” She smirks.
“I didn’t say that. You’re just going crazy. Did you eat some hallucinating mushrooms? Did you think that they were normal mushrooms, but instead, they tasted strange?”
“You’re an idiot. But whatever you did last night, I hope you had fun.”
“I didn’t do anything out of the normal stuff you do when you go out with your friends. But yes, it was nice. Now I’ll sleep.”
-
It was a national break, which meant that you were in Roma, this time, to train with your fellow national teammates. After your underwhelming World Cup and Euros run, you just got a new coach to train your squad. You really hoped that she would be better than the last one.
You were on the training pitch joking and laughing with your other teammates, juggling and passing the ball to each other, when she came on the pitch, making everyone stop in their place looking at her.
As she introduced herself to everyone, you could already see that she was not there to joke around. She was serious and precisely decided her words, but she was passionate about her new job.
“We have two weeks to prepare for the friendly against Spain. I want to create a team with a good mix of experience and fresh talent. All of you are talented girls, but I want to see you in action to create an efficient and strong team.”
The three captains go up to her and introduce themselves and the squad. While you began to juggle the ball to keep your mind off the current situation. You always hated when you changed coach; you thought you needed to prove yourself to them to be accepted in the squad, making you completely doubt your capabilities.
What made you nervous was that she wanted to rejuvenate the squad. Your previous coach tried to do that, but she failed miserably. Many great players were left out of the roster that you could’ve definitely used in the World Cup, so you really hoped that her plan was better than the other’s coach, hoping that she wouldn’t take you off the roster. 
So you gave it your all in practice, trying to impress her and, at the same time, prove to yourself that you deserved to be there. Even running laps without complaining, shocking your teammates, as it had become an inside joke that you wouldn’t run even if the world was ending. Which wasn’t quite right. Yes, you hated running, but on the pitch, you gave it your all.
They called you the female version of Daniele De Rossi since you played in Roma and had his number on, and sometimes gave you the same nickname as him, Capitan Futuro, because of your leadership and tenacity, even though when people looked at your style, they were more reminded of Pirlo’s or Busquets. But he still remained your idol. 
As soon as you finished practice, you were about to leave the pitch when the coach called you to come to her, making your heartbeat from the nervousness. 
“Y/n, come here for a second.” She made you a sign with your hand, and you ran up to her.
“Hey, Mister.” You smile politely at her, crossing your arms.
“Good job today, I have to say-“
“That I didn’t make it to the team? I know. I am a very particular player, so I get it if you want to have someone that better fits your team. I get it; I’ll pack my stuff.” You ramble quickly out of nervousness.
The coach chuckles at your antiques, “Rule number 1, Y/n. Never underestimate yourself. If you think you don’t deserve to be here, then you shouldn’t.” She says seriously, making you unconsciously straighten your back.
“I know; it’s just you are known as a brutal coach who doesn’t care about others’ opinions and is known to make very bold choices. I know that I deserve to be here; I’ve always been on the starting 11 in any important match, when not injured, of course. It’s a great honor to work with you.” You praise her, trying to make up for the bad impression.
“Likewise. But I have to ask.” She begins while studying you curiously.
“Sure, ask away.”
“Why are you here at Roma when you could be anywhere else? Who can actually give you the chance to use your full potential?” She asks so directly, making you blink twice.
“What, sorry?”
“I know that Barcelona, Lyon, Chelsea, and Arsenal all wanted you and actually offered big money to Roma for you, but you always declined. I wonder why, that’s it. I just think you are wasting your prime here.”
“I have a contract with Roma until 2024, then I’ll decide my future. As for the teams, I know that they are interested. Barcelona phones my agent almost every year. But I already informed them that I won’t accept any offer until the end of the season. I feel like I would let down the club. I told them that I would be there until 2024, so I’ll be there until 2024. It’s the least I could do after everything they did for me.”
She raises her eyebrow, amused, “Well, that didn’t happen for Chelsea. I followed your career and thought you were having a great season with the club.”
“I left Chelsea for personal reasons.” You turn your head skeptically. “With all due respect, coach, why are my career choices that important?”
“I just want to understand if I am going to make the right choice.”
“What choice?”
“You, Y/n, are going to be my new team captain.”
-
As soon as you go to the locker room, you go to your three team captains and ask them for an explanation.
“You know, they want to strip off your captaincy.” You say, wearing a disgusted expression to Cristiana Girelli. “You cannot let her do that! It’s disrespectful.” You say angrily.
“Y/n, look at me. I told her I wanted to step back from the national team. I’m getting older, and my time has already come. This is a new era. And you are the perfect skipper. They call you the Capitan Futuro for a reason.”
“But what about Barbara? And Elena? They are too, the captains.” You say sadly, clearly not wanting to take their place.
“Barbara decided to step down from the national team like me. Elena thought that you were the right choice as a skipper. She’s going to be your co-captain. We’ve already arranged everything. You just have to say yes.” You always looked up to Cristiana; she was your mentor, especially in the national team. If you were the player you are today, it was partly because of her.
“Do you think I could be a good skipper?” You ask her shyly, “I’ve never been an actual captain; with Roma, I’m the third, but the actual one? Do I make the cut for it?” You hated yourself for being this insecure.
She takes you by the shoulders. “You, Y/n, transmit something when you are on the pitch that not many people do. You make the team more calm and lucid. Knowing that you are back there allows everyone to be more free on the pitch. You are our most important player, on and off the pitch. So the armband is yours. You deserve it.” She gives you a reassuring hug, “Now go back to change; you are all sweaty!”
-
As the two weeks passed, you were really happy with the coach and the team. When the team found out that you would lead them, they were ecstatic, making you a little more comfortable with your new position.
The Spanish team would arrive two days before the match, and you were happy to see Mapi again and extremely stressed out to see Alexia. You didn’t talk or text after the night that you shared together; you both followed each other on Instagram, which you were stalking daily, but you didn’t give much thought to that.
You weren’t a simp. Especially for a girl that you have seen only for a day. You had some self-respect. That is what you were trying to convince yourself to believe. So you told yourself that you would avoid her at all costs. You were the skipper now, and you had to be extremely focused.
The plan failed miserably when you asked Mapi two nights before the match to meet up at a place for some drinks. She had never been to Roma and wanted to visit the city. What you didn’t expect was for her to invite some of her teammates. It’s not the fact that there were other people with you because you loved the Spanish girls, especially the ones from Barcelona, as you had already hung out with them previously.
Still, you were really scared of meeting Alexia again. Your fear turned out to be plausible because of the five players there, Alexia was one of them.
During the afternoon, you showed the Spanish girls, Roma, while they teased you, saying that you were almost better as a tour guide than a football player. They didn’t know you were making stuff up along the way, trying to act cool and knowledgeable.
You could see that Alexia would sometimes look at you, as her gaze would pierce holes at the back of your skull, but whenever your eyes would meet, you would soon avoid her gaze. You told yourself to avoid her, and that is what you did. What was more painful, though, was that she would look like a kicked puppy, making you feel very guilty for what you were doing.
After walking for a while, the girls wanted to try the typical ‘Aperitivo’ famous worldwide, so you brought them to a little place with a great view that you knew wouldn’t disappoint. They all ordered Aperol Spritz, apart from you, making them look at you a little puzzled.
“Oh, I don’t drink that much.” You explain while Mapi raises an eyebrow and chuckles.
“Okay, I usually don’t drink during the season.” She raises her eyebrow again.
“I only drink on special occasions.” Eying Mapi for making you sound like an alcoholic.
“When we won La Liga in 2017, we went out to party, and she didn’t hold back.” She glances at her, trying to make her understand to stop talking.
“And we are done with the conversation now. So, how’s Barça?”
You begin to share stories and funny anecdotes about your respective clubs, making you really happy to have decided to spend the afternoon with them. They were a tight group, and you could see that they deeply cared for one another.
As you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, you quickly clean your hands, thinking about some random stuff, when your thoughts were interrupted by the door of the women’s bathroom swinging, finding yourself in front of you, the person you were categorically avoiding.
“Alexia, Hi!” You say, still a little shocked. She was still at the door, clearly trying to make some space between the two of you. She closes the door and then turns to you, crossing her arms.
“Are you avoiding me?” She asks you to wear this vulnerability, which is very uncharacteristic. Making you want to do anything to reassure her that it wasn’t true and make her feel better. You hated seeing her like this. But you were avoiding her.
“I-I.” You didn’t know how to reply.
“Because it’s very annoying, especially when we decided to be civil about this and not act like strangers. If you have a problem, that’s on you.” She was irritated and had every right to be; you were acting like an asshole, and she didn’t do anything to deserve that treatment. She was about to leave when you gently grabbed her hand,
“I’m sorry, okay? I just wasn’t expecting you to be here today. And you come here looking like this. It’s not helping.”
“Looking like what?” She takes a step closer to you, wearing a proud smirk. 
“Stop looking at me like that.” She was making you go crazy; your mind was hazy, fully intoxicated by her.
“Like what?” 
“Like you’ve seen me naked.” You reply. She replies, only smirking more and raising her eyebrows. She has seen you naked, and she was acknowledging that. She was coming closer to you, making you retreat to the wall.
“Alexia…” You warn her once. She knew that it wouldn’t stop her because you were enjoying this. “We have to act like professionals.” She took you by the waist and began kissing your neck. “This. It is not professional. It’s wrong.” You barely utter, trying to contain any sign that you are enjoying this. Which you were. So damn much.
“Your heartbeat says otherwise.” She gives you a kiss where you are most sensitive on the neck. She still remembered. Making you shiver. “Your skin tells me otherwise. It’s covered in goosebumps.” She leaves a small kiss till she reaches the back of your ear, whispering, “Tell me to stop, and I will.” 
You couldn’t reply. She was right. You didn’t want her to stop. You missed how her kisses made you feel, how her perfume intoxicated all of your senses, or how her hands, warm and comforting hands would roam all over your body in search of new skin to touch. She was lighting a fire that you knew you couldn’t put out. And frankly, you didn’t want to; you wanted that fire to consume you, leaving nothing but her behind.
“We can’t hook up in here.” You state, closing your eyes, getting lost in her. 
“Are you sure?”
“Come back home with me.” You blurt out, clearly not thinking about the consequences.
“So much for acting professionally.” She winks and then leaves you alone in the bathroom once again. You really had to stop going to the bathroom when you were out together.
When you both come out, you quickly find an excuse for you to leave. Thankfully, they had the hotel nearby, so they wouldn’t have to leave by car. Alexia told them that she had to buy some souvenirs for her sister, so she was going to come back late.
-
You get to your home by car, which fortunately wasn’t that far from where you were with your friends before, and you make her quickly come in, leading her without any hesitation to your bedroom. You were a girl with a mission.
As soon as you enter the room, you push her onto the bed and get on her lap, taking off your shirt in the process. She places her hands on the back of your shoulders, finally being able to touch your skin. You sigh at her touch as if you were finally able to breathe again.
Your faces were inches away from touching, but neither of you wanted to take that step, juggling anticipation with teasing. You were the one that surrendered, whispering, “Kiss me” To her lips as they soon met yours. It was excruciatingly slow, passionate, and tender. It was the first time that you kissed since the first time, and you finally realized just how much you missed it. Maybe too much for a simple two-night stand, but again, it was a problem for the future you.
As you lay together once again, this time in your bed together, both exhausted, even though it was barely time for dinner. She was lying on her front, with the sheets draping down her body, showing her strong back. She hugged the pillow, still keeping her eyes closed, fully relaxed. You loved seeing her like this. You let yourself leave a kiss on her temple while still stroking her hair, making her smile. She took your hand and slowly interlaced it with her, then kissed the back of your hand. “Hungry?” You ask her when she nods profusely.
“What do you want to eat?”
“Whatever you have.” You go to get up from your bed, and you throw on the first shirt that you find, which was hers, and you leave the room.
“Come back quickly. I want to stay in bed with you.” She tells you, making you chuckle at her cuteness.
You quickly retrieve some cookies and Nutella and return to your room. You place the food near your nightstand and roam for a shirt in your closet.
“Do you want a shirt?” You ask her.
“Yes, please.”
You throw her one of your old shirts from when you were younger, and she puts it on right away and subtly smells it.
Then you offer her some food.
“Where did you get these? They are so good.” She asks you while taking a huge bite.
“I make them.”
“Wait, really?”
“Yeah. Usually, before a match, I get a little nervous, so I bake. It’s my way of coping with anxiety. I usually share cookies with my teammates in secret. So that our nutritionist won’t say anything.”
“These are good!” She says. “They are very similar to the ones that Mapi did once.” Then it clicks for her. “Wait. Were you the one that taught her?”
“Who do you think she got the recipe from?” You chuckle.
“Yours are better, though. Like way better.”
“I know ’cause my recipe differs from the one I gave her. Mine is the real one. My dad would always say to never give out your recipes. They are a family’s inheritance.”
“You Italians are so weird with food and so extra.” She remarks, making you playfully slap her shoulder.
“We are not extra; you Spanish people are extra with your paella and the Jamon Iberico, or ‘Patanegra.’ You can find it cheaper here, and it is just as good.”
“That’s offensive. It’s like saying that Italian food is better than Spanish.” She says, clearly trying to rile you up.
“You did not just say that!” You put your hands on her thighs, looking at her, shocked.
“I did. And I don’t regret it.” She gives you a small peck on the lips and then goes on eating her cookie.
“You are lucky that you are cute.”
“Or else what? You are going to throw me out of your home?” She remarks playfully.
“I could if I wanted to, but then I’d be here all alone, without any clothes on, without anyone to keep me company.” You pout jokingly, making your voice even more needy to make fun of her.
In a swift movement, she pins you down the mattress with her fingers running up your thigh. “Thankfully, you are not alone.” She gives you a quick kiss. “By the way, you do look good with my shirt on, but you know what would make you look even better? If you took it off. So be a good girl for me and take it off.”
It was past midnight, you were both exhausted, and you were nearly falling asleep. You were lying on her side, slowly tracing her facial features with your fingers, trying to remember every little crease and mole that made up her skin.
“What are you doing?” She smiles, feeling slightly ticklish
“I’m trying to memorize your face. For the next time, we will see each other.” You say earnestly, not stopping your caresses.
“See. You cannot say stuff like that and expect me to not have a reaction.” She chuckles lightly.
“Maybe I want you to have a reaction to my words.” You say innocently, stopping your movements to kiss her soft lips.
“What are we doing here? What are we?” She asks you, making you retreat from your position sitting up.
“I don’t know.”
“Me neither. But I like this. Whatever this is.”
“Me too. We don’t have to label it. Can we just be? Is that okay for you?”
“I’m okay with it. Now come back here.” She offers her embrace to you, which you gladly accept, burying your face in her hair while she fatherly strokes your back, making your skin full of goosebumps. You sigh contently at the sensation.
“Can I ask you something?” You move yourself to better look at her.
“What?”
“I know that we are not an item or whatever, but I was just curious as to what happened with Chelsea. You can totally tell me to fuck off, and I won’t bring up the argument again, but you are known for always being very respectful to your clubs, and you always wait for a contract to finish before transferring, so I was wondering what made you change clubs.”
“Are you asking because you care or because you want a story? Because I really don’t like to talk about it, and if you don’t care, I’d rather not talk about it.”
“I asked because I care. I ask because since I have known you, I want to get to know you. I ask because you are a great person and I care”
“Okay,” You take a deep breath, and you begin. “This is going to be a long story.” You chuckle. “What do you know about my history with Chelsea?”
“I know that you transferred there after being at Atletico, but you sent in a transfer request soon after, and you came to Roma. That’s it.”
“You don’t know the reason, though, right?”
“There were just rumors, but I don’t know anything, and I don’t tend to believe rumors, as the majority of them are false.”
“Okay. So, to begin my story, we have to go back to my college years in the US. So basically, during those years, three major things happened: I got my degree in physiotherapy, met my best friend, and got a girlfriend who also wanted to become a physiotherapist.”
You told her how she was British and how you thought she was perfect for you. “Frankly, looking back at it now, we were very toxic for each other. We loved each other very much, but it was our first real relationship both of us. And honestly, I thought that I was going to marry her; maybe it was just me who was so in love with that girl that I didn’t even know how to distinguish and understand her flaws. But again, she was my first real relationship, and she knew how to use my weaknesses against me to get me to do what she wanted. My best friend hated her; probably, that should have been the first sign. We would fight and then make up, and then she would guilt trip me into doing stuff for her.”
“That doesn’t look like a really healthy relationship.”
“Well, yeah, I was really young and dumb. But anyway, when I went to Atletico, we tried to have a long-distance relationship. She found a job as a therapist at the Chelsea women’s team, and her career too was taking off. When Mapi and I finished the contract with Atletico, and she moved to Barça, I was to move there too. I knew that Barcelona was interested, and Barça was my dream. Honestly, it still is. But then she called me, the day before deciding on my future, saying that her mom was sick and she needed me. Probably, she just wanted to be able to see me more. So I stopped waiting for Barça's proposal and told Chelsea I would transfer for them. In the beginning, I loved being at Chelsea. I have always supported the club, and I fit their style of play. My career was taking off quickly, and I was wearing myself thin. Her mom was getting worse, so my time was divided between training and hospital visits. For my ex-girlfriend, her mom was like my dad to me. So, I understood how important she was to her, and I thought that if I stayed with her mom and kept her company, my ex would be happy. That is what I would want if my dad were to be sick. I would just want him to have all the support, not caring about myself if that meant for him to improve.”
“That’s not very healthy.”
“But if it were your father, you would do the same thing too, right?”
“Yeah.” She replies sadly. “I did the same thing.”
“So I guess I started neglecting my ex a little? I think. I know she was suffering, and I knew I could’ve done more to give her the support she needed, but I didn’t. I would train, go to the hospital, and then sleep. I was exhausted and couldn’t keep up with myself and her needs. Looking back at it now, I probably would have done things differently; I would’ve tried to not wear myself out that thin.”
“You were young.”
“Yeah, I guess. So I remember that one day, and I still remember the date. Don’t ask why; I just do. Her mom was getting worse, and she was exhausted, so I thought that I would let her go to sleep while I would try to keep her mom company. As she left, I stayed with her until the time was up, and I went back home and I-“
“No, she didn’t.” She says incredulously.
“Yeah. I caught her cheating on me with one of my teammates.”
“That whore.” She replies angrily.
“Well, she eventually married that woman, so I guess not.” You chuckle at her angry expression. “She told me that I wasn’t giving her the support that she needed and that the other girl was giving it to her. I got all of my clothes and left. I was still playing at Chelsea, but then word spread out that I was the one that cheated. Everyone started to treat me differently. I didn’t play anymore; I was always on the bench, and nobody talked to me. I reached my last straw, so I requested a transfer. Barça tried to sign me; I also wanted to go there. Everything was settled; I was about to leave when they blocked the offer and allowed me to decide between two Italian clubs, Roma and Juventus. And here I am.”
“So you stayed with her dying mother, and she had the audacity to cheat on you?”
“I guess? I don’t know Alexia. So much time has passed, and I don’t want to think about it anymore. She’s happy now, I guess. Honestly, I am happy too. I am really glad though that you won the Champion’s League final against them.”
“I am even more glad, too, now.” She brings you on top of her and gives you a hug, kissing the crown of your hair. “I am glad that you trusted me enough to tell me this. I hope that you know that you deserve better than her. You deserve the world. Her actions don’t define you, and don’t even think that you deserve what she did to you.”
“But what if-“You say insecurely when she interrupts you.
“No what ifs. You did what you thought was right, and by doing so, you put yourself second to everything else. You have no right to blame yourself for what she did.” She puts her hands on your cheeks and makes you look at her. “Okay?”
“Okay.” It was incredible how she knew what exact words to say and how, by her saying them, you actually believed them somehow.
Suddenly, you felt your heart crack open for her to enter inside it. And you realized that what you had with her wasn’t just sex. It was something deeper. In so little time, she was able to heal you from your past and open up again. And that scared you, no, it frightened you.
You had built the highest walls, and for the two days you had been with her, she could make them crumble. You were feeling too much; she was making you feel too much. You wanted to run away. Clear your head. Push her out of the way and never see her again. But you couldn’t bring yourself to move from her. Her embrace was what had grounded you. You weren’t drowning in her. She was your oxygen. And you were finally surfacing up from the depths of your mind to finally heal. This realization hit you like a ton of bricks, making you do the first thing your mind could think of. Which was kissing her.
You kissed her hard and passionately, trying to convey all the emotions to her, to show her how much her words affected you. Your action caught her by surprise, but she soon adjusted to it. You trail your kisses down her chest, then to her abdomen. Praising the body of the woman who had made you feel more today than anything your ex or anyone had ever done previously. 
-
The morning after, you wake up with an arm draped around your waist, holding you down. She tightens her arm around you as you try to tangle yourself out of her embrace.
“So you are just pretending to be asleep.” You smile at her, trying to take off her strong and dead-weight arm from your body.
“Five more minutes.” She fully snuggles into you.
“I have to shower, and you have to get back to your teammates.” You try to reason with her. “And we have to have breakfast.”
“Five more minutes.” She continues.
“Okay, but only five.” She pulls herself on top of you, spurring you to play with her hair, which you do, and the five minutes turn into ten. And then you both realize that you have to get up.
You decide to shower together ‘to save water.’ You both wash each other’s hair and back, this act of intimacy making your heart swell with affection for the girl who was currently hugging you from behind. 
You both have breakfast in your little kitchen, with conversations flowing effortlessly, alternating between joking around and surfacing more serious topics.
You could not but point out to yourself that this was what was supposed to feel like when you were in a relationship with someone. But you weren’t in a relationship with her. She liked the idea of not labeling this thing between the two of you and hell, you didn’t want to complicate stuff just because of some confusing and all-over-the-place feelings.
You bring her back to the hotel, telling each other that you will see them during the match that will take place the next day.
You put your sunglasses on, which you thought maybe were your post-hookup outfit choice, and you get to the training center. It would be your last session before tomorrow’s game.
As soon as you enter the locker room, your teammates from Roma chuckle at you.
“Fun night?” They tease you.
“I don’t know what you are all talking about.” Making some other teammates look at you curiously while you showed them the finger.
“So basically, we think Y/n is hooking up with a Barça player. So now she gave us another clue: She is Spanish.”
“I’m not hooking up with anybody. And it’s none of your business; I’m your captain. Get back to train!” You say, slightly irritated.
You quickly put your training gear on, realizing you were still wearing Alexia’s shirt, and then get on the pitch.
The coach comes soon after and calls you to revise some tactics.
“So you, Y/n, if Putellas is starting, you are going to be the one that will mark her.” Her surname makes your mind have flashbacks of your previous night. “You basically annulled her in the last game, so expect you to do the same tomorrow.”
“Yes, coach.”
“If Patri starts instead, you will mark Bonmatì.”
That evening, you were nervous, to say the least. It was your first match as the Italian captain, and you really wanted it to go well. So you started baking. You baked enough cookies for an army.
So you decided to leave some for Mapi, who has always loved eating them, and your pathetic ass also saved some for Alexia in the hopes that she would come and find you after the game.
It was match day. Alexia was in the starting 11, and your parents were in the stands supporting you, and as you were leading your team to the pitch, you felt a sense of pride. 
As you go to exchange the badge with the captain of the other team, Alexia, she tries to contain a smile that was creeping on her lips.
You shake her hand and give her the Italian badge. “Hello, Captain.” You greet her.
“Hello to you too, Captain.” She replies. You finish the formalities, and then you go to each other’s respective pitches.
Today, you would give it your all; nobody would stop you.
You were all over the pitch trying to help your teammates and leading them to score, but unfortunately, the Spanish team was a force to be reckoned with, and they exploited all of the weaknesses of your team. They were world champions for a reason. Thankfully, you were able to hold off a draw.
The first time that you had to mark Alexia, it was a free kick for Spain because of an offside.
“The armband has a good look on you.” She beams at you proudly.
“Well, the star looks good on your badge.” You reply. 
“Don’t you dare try to distract me.” She warns you.
“When did I ever do such a thing?” You reply dumbly. “I should be the one warning you not to kick me!” Mapi was about to throw the ball; thankfully, it didn’t land in the direction of Alexia because seeing her again on the pitch was making you feel a little distracted, and you’d really hate it if your team lost because of one of your mistakes. 
The rest of the times you interacted with her, you would snatch the ball away from her in most cases. You were working tirelessly, trying not to concede a goal. At half-time, you were exhausted, but you had something to prove. After half-time, Alexia was getting more annoyed; she really wanted a win as it would be their first win after their World Cup.
You knew you would get subbed off at the 70th minute to give some space for subs, so until then, you would give your 100%. It was the 65th minute, and there was a throw-in for Spain. Alexia was trying to get the ball from her teammates, and with a miscalculated movement, she quickly moved her elbow, which hit your nose, making acute pain grow in the middle of her face.
“Cazzo!” You scream. You throw yourself to the ground, still in pain, smelling iron and feeling a warm liquid in your hands.
The game quickly stopped, and Alexia turned to you, kneeling and touching your scapula. 
You were mad; you had once broken your nose more than five years ago, and it wasn’t pretty, and hated when people touched you when you were irritated, so you lashed out at her. “Don’t fucking touch me.” You squirm away from her touch,
“I’m sorry.” She says regretfully.
“You fucking did it on purpose, huh? If it’s broken, don’t you dare talk to me again!” 
Your team swarms you, pushing Alexia away. 
Linari, remove your hands from your face while keeping your eyes closed. “Is there blood? Wait, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know, or else I am going to cry or faint.”
You open your eyes for a moment and look at your teammates; they all are very worried. Linari was stomping towards Alexia, screaming in her face, but you couldn’t hear properly; your mind was a little hazy from the pain. 
You look at your hands; they are full of blood, and you begin to panic. You sit up and begin touching your nose, removing more blood, but you can still feel it flowing. 
The medics were running to you. “How bad is it?”
They inspect your nose, “It’s not broken; the impact broke some blood vessels, and you burst your lip. That’s why there is so much blood.
“Can you make it stop? I want to finish the game.” You look at your coach; she signs you to come off the pitch. 
You stand up, take your armband off, give it to your co-captain, and leave the pitch. You go to your coach, who reassures you that she doesn’t want you to risk anything for a friendly
-.
The medics brought you to the physio room and gave you some ice to put on your nose. Thankfully, the bleeding stopped soon after, and you were left watching the game on the TV while waiting for your teammates. You were happy that your team was able to hold a draw. As soon as the game finished, you were swarmed by your teammates checking up on you. You told them that you were okay, and then you began laughing and joking.
They stayed there for five more minutes, and then you heard a knock on the door, and you saw some of the Spanish girls checking up on you. Your team slowly exited the room, giving the death stare at Alexia, who shamefully wouldn’t look at you.
“You okay?” Mapi asked worriedly.
“I’m good. Thankfully, it is nothing serious; the impact burst some vessels, that’s why there was so much blood.”
They stayed there for another five minutes while Alexia stayed in the corner awkwardly looking at her teammates, never looking at you. As they were about to leave, you called her to stay a little longer.
“I’m sorry if I lashed out.” You say regretfully, holding out your hand for her to grab it while pulling her near you. “I know that you didn’t do it on purpose. It’s just- I had already broken my nose and didn’t want to break it again.”
“I’m really sorry.” For the first time, she looked at you; she had this kicked puppy look that you hated seeing on her face.
She takes the ice from your hand and slowly takes it off your face to check the bruising.
“Do I look that bad?” You try to joke; half of your face is red and really swollen.
“You look beautiful as ever.” She smiles.
You blush at her words, “You just say that because you were the one that caused it.”
“You know that I got screamed at by your teammates?”
“Linari?”
“Yep, Apparently, she knows Spanish really well. Honestly, I deserve it. If my teammate got kicked and punched by the same person, I would have had the same reaction.”
“Maybe you should stop then. Cause I really don’t want to know what will happen next time.” You joke.
“Maybe we aren’t meant to play against each other.” She remarks suggestively.
“Maybe not…” You reply. She kisses you on the forehead,
“Can I kiss you?”
“Just be gentle; it still hurts a little.” She gives you a feathery kiss, so gentle and so soft that it seemed like it was just a mere graze. She lingers her lips there for a couple of seconds as if she wants to savor this moment, and you both hear the door open, and you break off the kiss, pushing her away from you. You turn around and see your tattooed ex-teammate and friend staring at both of you, shocked.
“Oh wow. That was very unexpected.” She releases a surprised chuckle. “I’ll come back another time. I just left my sweater in here before.” She retrieves the sweater and she is about to leave when she turns around to the both of you, “I have to ask, though, when did you start dating, or whatever this is?”
“We are not dating.” Alexia turns to look at her, with her shoulders high and a serious face. She was closing off.
“Yeah. We are just casually keeping each other company?” You tentatively back up Alexia’s claim, clearly not realizing how weirdly you phrased it. Alexia’s face turned quickly to look at you weirdly. “Okay, that sounded a little bad. I apologize.”
“So you are hooking up?” Mapi concludes.
“Mapi!” Alexia rolls her eyes at her.
“What? It is true!” You slightly nod, making the other team's captain roll your eyes at you, too.
“I’d rather not discuss my sex life with you! I already know that in a matter of days, everybody from Barça will know, so the less you know, the better.” 
“I would never tell anyone!” She replies, offended.
While you sit there still in the bed, observing the interaction between the two friends, clearly annoyed with each other, you could see though how much they cared and loved one another. 
“So you wouldn’t tell Ingrid, right? I swear to god, you tell everything to that woman.” 
“She’s my girlfriend!”
“Yes, but still, you can’t keep a secret for shit!”
“Well, at least I didn’t nearly break her nose and kick her in the groin.” She comments calmly, making you release a surprised chuckle, making the two girls turn to look at you but soon shift their attention to each other again.
“For the last time! I didn’t do it on purpose!”
“Okay, that’s enough. As much as I don’t care about this bickering, I think it’s enough for today.” You go to stand up, but Alexia froze you with her gaze. Making you not move from your position “Now come and hug me. I won’t be seeing you for a long time.” You open your arms, and she walks right in them. 
“Take care, okay?” She says to you.
“I will. You too.”
“Let me see if I remember correctly. Ti voglio bene?” She asks, with her broken Italian accent.
“Si, Ti voglio bene anche io.” You chuckle. She exits the room, smirking at Alexia, leaving the two of you once again alone.
“Oh, I totally forgot. Can you pass me the bag that is under the table over there?” You point the bag with your finger while she quickly retrieves it and puts it on the bed next to you, where you are sitting, with your feet dangling in the air.
You quickly open the bag and hand her a little bag. She looks at you confused and then opens it.
“I made you cookies.” You explain, making her smile excitedly at the pastry.
“Why?” She turns to you incredulously, shocked by your kindness.
“Two days ago, you said that you liked them, and yesterday night, I made a batch for the team, so I thought that you would love to have them for your trip back to the airport. I made them also for Mapi.”
Her expression changed from incredulity to shock and then a mix between guilt and thankfulness. Seeing the shift in her face, your mind is plagued with doubt. “Did I overstep? I’m sorry. I just thought you might like something to eat. I always get very hungry after a match. I should’ve asked. I’m sorry.” You ramble quickly while you try to take the bag away from her, but she tightens her grip on them.
“No, you didn’t overstep.” She reassures you and gives you a big smile. “It’s just, nobody has ever done anything like this before. Thank you, Y/n. I really appreciate it.”
“It’s nothing, really. Even though you don’t deserve them, you still can have my cookies.” You tease her.
“Thank you. Thank you for the cookies, and thank you for the kiss. I have to get back to the locker room, or other people will start to wonder what we are doing here. I’ll see you tonight?” She asks as if it was the most normal thing.
“I can’t tonight. My parents are here, they came here from home to be at the match. Plus, I don’t think that we can do anything tonight.” Circling with your finger, your face.
“I just wanted to check up on you. Can you send me a text if it gets worse, please? I’m really glad, though, that there is someone with you tonight. I don’t think I could’ve slept well tonight if I knew that nobody would take care of you when I nearly broke your nose.”
“You are worrying too much. It’s just a bruise.”
“Yeah, but I don’t bruise the people that I dat- that I care about.”
“Ohh, you care about me!”
“Shut up. Do you want me to take the cookies to Mapi?”
“Yes, please.”
“I have to go now.” She hesitates. “Can I have a hug?” She asks shyly. You make her a sign to come to you, and she gently brings you her strong embrace, lightly pecking your neck in the process.
“I’ll see you next time?” She asks, hopeful.
“Goodbye, Alexia. Have a safe flight back home.”
-
‘Are you okay? Does it hurt?’
It was the third text that she had sent you that night. Every time, you would reassure her that it was nothing, just a bruise, but she didn’t care. She would ask you to send an update about your well-being every hour. 
‘I’m okay, Alexia. Stop worrying too much.’
‘I don’t care. In an hour, I’ll send you another text.’
‘Don’t you have like other stuff to do than worry about me?’
She sent you a picture of her and Mapi eating the cookies you baked. ‘Yes, but I can multitask. Like rn, I’m eating your cookies.’
‘I’m glad that you like them.’
‘You’ll have to teach me how to do them.’
‘You wish, haha.’
“Who are you texting?” Mapi asks suggestively to her captain, seeing her smiling at her phone.
“Me? Oh, Y/n, I wanted to see if she was okay.” She replies, never taking her eyes off her phone.
“You are down bad for that girl.” She grins.
“No, I am not. We are just casually hanging out. Plus, she told me that she didn’t want to label it. To ‘just be’.”
“Well, I don’t usually bake cookies for nightstands when they nearly have broken my nose.”
“She was just being nice because I told her that I liked them when I went to her place.”
“So you didn’t have to buy souvenirs?”
“Are you really that dumb?”
“Well, well, well, I didn’t know that you had it in you to have a nightstand. Not even her, honestly.” Alexia pulls her head down, not looking at her friend sadly. “Oh my god! You like her, like her!”
“I don’t know, okay,” She says, frustrated. “In the beginning, it was just physical. But then we began talking and laughing, and I don’t know. She just makes me feel so happy and relaxed whenever I’m with her.”
“Maybe it’s just the good sex.”
“The sex is good. Like incredible. But the little moments we have after are what I look most forward to. She baked me cookies, for god’s sake; how am I supposed to compete with that?”
“Can I say something that I don’t know if it will make you feel better or not?”
“Just say it.”
“When I first met Y/n, she was this shy little girl who just came from the US. She knew very little Spanish, but she had a huge heart. We became very good friends; on the pitch, we worked perfectly; off the pitch, she was my best friend at Atletico. Everybody loved her there. We also met her girlfriend at the time.”
“Total bitch.”
“Yeah, she loved her so much, but what hurt the most was that Kate was bluntly taking advantage of her kindness and generosity. Nobody in the squad liked her. When we were about to leave for Barça together, I was so happy. It was our dream, and I loved playing with her, but then her ex called her, and she wouldn’t wait for Barça. We got into this huge fight; it was the only time I had seen her angry. And then she moved to Chelsea.
What I’m trying to say is that Y/n, is a very kind and giving person, especially to the people she cares about. She always puts herself second to others, especially when they are in need. Giving you cookies might seem like a small and weird gesture, but for her, it is just a way to make your day, even by a little, better. She wouldn’t do this for people she wouldn’t care about.”
-
The third time you see Alexia was during the Champions League game against Barcelona. Talking to your coach, you refused to mark her, so you opted to mark during the game Aitana instead. With Alexia, things were going weirdly. You started texting more since she nearly broke your nose. So now you were friends? You really didn’t know.
The day before the match, the Barcelona team was at your stadium to meet some of your teammates from each other’s national team, but you quickly ran up to Mapi and gave her a hug. She was with some of her teammates, Alexia included, talking to each other. You soon greet all of her other teammates, leaving Alexia last.
“Hey.”
“Hey.” She picks you up in the air and embraces you tightly. “You okay?” She asks you, slowly putting your feet back down on the pitch.
“I’m good.”
“How’s the nose?” She gently pinches it and moves it to see if there is any swelling.
“Stop smothering me. It’s been like six months now.” You take her hand away from you. “And don’t you dare injure me again tomorrow?”
“I’ll try my best.”
 During the last six months, clips of Alexia injuring you from your previous two matches against you went viral. People saying that she hated you or that she didn’t care. Sometimes, even in interviews, people would ask you about your relationship with her or vice versa. And the both of you would simply say that you were just, unfortunate when playing against each other and that you were actually friends in real life. 
-
It was match day, which meant that you were about to face the best team in the world, which frankly scared you a little. It was at home, so you really wanted to win or at least have a draw. 
As you are about to go on the pitch, you meet your friends from Barça in line, and you go and shake their hands to all of them.
“We are swapping shirts after this?” You ask your ex-teammate, hoping that she would say yes. 
“Sure. If I win, of course.” She replies cockily.
“We have a pretty good team, you know. I wouldn’t be so sure about a win.” You sent her a playful smirk while you walked to shake hands with Paños and then Alexia.
“Capitana.”
“Good luck out there.” She smiles, slightly lingering her hand in yours, and then the moment is destroyed by your skipper calling you back.
In the first half, you became the shadow of Aitana; she never got past you. The difference between her and Alexia was that the younger girl was much quicker and more stubborn with the ball.
“So you are not marking Alexia this time?” She asks you, still with the game going on.
“Nah, I’d rather preserve my physical well-being.” You joke, making the younger girl release a small chuckle, then go back to focus on the pitch.
Alexia was looking at your interaction on the other side of the pitch, rolling her eyes and scoffing.
The game was pretty balanced somehow. You were giving it your all, running way more than needed. You could already feel how sore your legs would be the next day, especially when you knew Alexia would be coming over tonight.
It was the 60th minute of the match, you were on the counter-attack, and you sent the perfect long ball to your number 9, and she was running to the goal. You knew that she would be swarmed by the opposing team in a matter of seconds, so you started running too, to give her some support. Your legs were hurting, but you kept on going; you would score one way or another. You were nearly at the box when Giacinti cut the ball perfectly to your right foot, and you powerfully kicked the ball off the right top bin. Everybody stopped, you stopped. All looking at the quick ball, which was currently in the air. Paños dived, but it was too late. The ball already went inside the net. 
You ran to the side of the pitch where the fans were and kissed your badge, pointing at them. This was for them. Then, all of your teammates swarmed you and hugged you.
You raise your arms to make the fans get louder to cheer for your teammates. You were winning against the best team in the world. Now, you just need to keep it up; don’t let any slip or mistake jeopardize the victory.
As the final whistle blew, you could see the disappointed looks of the other team as they registered the first loss of their season, while you just dropped to the ground exhausted. Clearly, the stress from before the match and the running and shooting took a toll on you, and finally, you were able to rest. 
“You ok?” You open your eyes to see Alexia staring at you worriedly.
“I’m good. I just need to catch my breath.” She offers her hands to help you stand up, and you gladly take them. “You were great today. No wonder you scored against us.” You thank her again and search for Mapi to swap shirts.
“So, do you still want to swap shirts?”
“Yes, of course!” She pulls her shirt and gives it to you, and you do the same. You go and hug her, “Do you want to go for dinner tonight?” She offers, while you look at her a little guilty.
“I already have plans. But for the next leg, for sure.” 
“Plans with a certain tall woman from my team?” 
“Who, Ingrid?” You tease her.
“No, idiot. Alexia.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about.” You lightly blush, looking away from her knowing eyes.
“You know damn well what I am talking about.” She points her index finger at you, smiling. “I’m really happy that two of my favorite people started dating.”
“We are not dating.”
“If you say so!”
“I know so!” You saw all of your teammates leave for the locker room, “I have to go. Take care, okay? Don’t do anything stupid. Ti voglio bene.”
“Ti voglio bene. And you, too, don’t do anything that I wouldn’t do.”
“So you would fuck Alexia?” You began laughing.
“Eww, no. I’ll leave that to you.”
You playfully roll your eyes at her and then quickly hug her. “Bye, Mapi.”
“Bye.”
You quickly go to the locker room, but the UEFA people told you that you had just won the MOTM, so they wanted to give it to you. You pose for the picture, leave to change, and get ready for the night. You were exhausted. You kept yawning and barely kept your eyes open. But that night, you were going to see Alexia, and you really didn’t want to disappoint her. 
That night, you picked her up from her hotel to get to your place; you were having a really relaxed and enjoyable conversation when you got inside your house and led her to your bedroom. You sat on her lap, and as you were about to kiss her for the first time in nearly six months, you yawned. 
“Are you sure you want to do this? You look exhausted. Do you want to sleep?” She asks you worriedly, stopping you from doing anything else.
“No, no, I’m good. I don’t want to waste your time. I’ll be fine.” You go to kiss her, but once again, she stops you. She starts rubbing your thigh, soothing your aching muscles, making you close your eyes in relaxation.
“You are not wasting my time, cariño. I’m just happy to see you. We haven’t seen each other in nearly six months. We can just sleep if you want. We don’t have to do anything if you are not up to it.”
“I really like it.” You leave a small kiss on her nose.
“What?”
“The nickname, cariño.” You explain, feeling a warmth spreading in your chest. It had been some time since anyone had given you a nickname.
“Sorry, it just slipped.” She says, slightly blushing.
“I love it. Is it a problem for you if we just sleep? I’m really exhausted.”
“I’m okay with that. I’m really tired, too.”
“At what time do you leave tomorrow?”
“Not until in the afternoon.”
“Do you maybe want to stay tonight?” You ask shyly, tucking your head in her neck.
“There’s no other place that I would rather be.”
She makes you stand up, searching for something while you look at her confused.
“So, do you have any fresh clothes to change in? I don’t think you want to sleep in jeans.” She asks you while you point at your closet. She opens the first drawer and chuckles. 
“Is that my shirt?” She throws it at you, making your face turn pink.
“Well, it’s comfy, and it smells like you. Correction: It smelled like you. Now it’s just the fabric’s smell.”  
“I thought you had thrown it away.” She remarks sadly, throwing at you a pair of shorts.
“Why would I do that?”
“I don’t know.” She insecurely looks at you, changing the topic. “Can I borrow some shorts?”
“You can borrow anything you want.”
She takes a pair of shorts from your drawer and leaves to the bathroom to give you some privacy, which you thought was unnecessary as she has seen more of you than most people.
She returns to your room and lays down on your bed, making grabby hands for you to join her. You gladly do, sighing as you fall in her embrace, finally relaxing.
“Can I have a small kiss?” You ask her as you put your hand on her chest, quietly feeling her heartbeat.
“Ummm. Let me think about it.” She jokingly puts her hand on her chin, pretending to think. “Just one.” 
“Only one? You are making me work for them?” 
“Yep.” She pulls you for a slow kiss that takes your breath away. You hadn’t been kissing this woman for nearly half a year, and only now you realized how much you missed it. How much you missed her. As you finish the kiss, you both look at each other, “Okay, maybe another kiss.” You smile into the kiss as once again your lips met hers, and this time you melt into the kiss and break it off until you need to breathe again. 
“Buonanotte, Alexia”
“Goodnight, cariño.” You snuggle into her as she tightens her embrace, making you feel safe for the first time since you were little.
The next morning, you wake up with an empty bed. You sit up sadly, thinking Alexia left without saying goodbye or having breakfast. You leave your room and go to the kitchen to get some coffee, and there, you see her. She was rummaging through your cupboards when you walked to her and hugged her from behind.
“Good morning.”
“Good morning, cariño. Did you sleep well?” She feels her relax in your embrace while you snake your hands under her shirt, gently scratching her abs.
“Really, really well.” 
“I’m glad.”
“What are you doing?” You ask her, peeking with your head around her back.
“I’m trying to understand how this thing works.” You turn to see that she has it in her hands, a Moka.
You chuckle, gently pushing her to the side, taking it from her hands, and unscrewing the top of the coffee maker. You prepare the moka, and then you put it on the stove. In the meantime, you go to retrieve some mugs; they were on the highest cupboard, so you had to stand on your tippy toes to get the mugs, but your lover? Could you call her that? Walked behind you while putting a hand on your side and retrieved them for you, making you want to giggle at the action.
“Showing off your height, are we?”
“Me? Never. I’m just helping out my short queen.”
“Oh wow. How chivalrous.”
You both sit down at your little table and bring a piece of cake from your fridge.
“Do you want a piece?” You offer, getting a piece for you.
“Did you make it?”
“Yes, I did. Yesterday morning. It’s still good.”
“I swear to god, Y/N. You’ll get me out of shape if you keep feeding me.” She remarks jokingly, taking a bite from yours.
“Hey! That was mine!” You smack her hand away from your little plate, offended.
You stay together for another hour, and then you go back to the hotel very reluctantly. You didn’t know what it was, but something shifted that night between the two of you. You didn’t know if it was because you hadn’t seen each other in so long or because there were a lot of unresolved and unspoken feelings between the two of you. But when you said goodbye to her this time, it felt sadder and more longing.
You didn’t want to leave her side, nor did she, for that matter. You gave her a last kiss. She called you for the last time, cariño, and then she left. Leaving you this weird feeling lingering in your chest that you couldn’t quite pinpoint.
-
In the second leg of the Champions’sChampion, you didn’t play as you got injured two days before. It was nothing major, but it still stopped you from playing the match, which you really wanted to. You knew this would be your last season in Roma, and you wanted to bring your team to new heights.
As soon as the whistle blew, your team lost 2-0, and you felt a wave of sadness come over to you. And that was where it really hit you. This would be your last season at Roma, last season with the girls. You went on the pitch with your crutches, picking your teammates up from the ground and consoling them, trying to keep your own emotions at bay. Your team soon huddles up, and your coach makes a speech, but it was all a blur for you. You shut yourself off completely and left immediately after the pitch. 
You go inside the hallway away from the cameras and push your back to the wall, resigned. You didn’t cry. But you needed to isolate yourself and not show any weaknesses to your teammates. At least one of you needed to be strong.
“Cariño?” You hear a soothing whisper while hands cover your face. You recognize the warmth of the hands, which make you bask in contact. “Are you okay?”
“Alexia, what are you doing here? You should be out celebrating with your teammates. You got into the quarters.” You slightly push her away.
“Don’t push me away, please. What do you need?”
“I need a hug, please. Can you hug me?” Your eyes twinkle wetly with a vulnerability that Alexia has never seen before.
She quickly acquiesces to your needs and brings you in a tight hug. Your head was on her chest because of the height difference, and you could feel her heartbeat soothing and giving a rhythm to your brain. She began placing small kisses on the top of your head, and her hands rubbed your back to give you as much comfort as possible.
“Are you okay?” She whispers worriedly.
“I just realized that this will be my last Champions League with Roma and my last year with my teammates. I just feel a little vulnerable. But I’ll be okay, eventually.”
“Let’s get you home.”
“Alexia. I will be no good company tonight. When I am sad, I only watch romance movies or listen to sad songs. It’s not pretty. And you don’t have any obligation towards me.”
“I know, but I still want to. We can do all those things that you listed together. Let me take care of you.” She offers, smiling earnestly at you, making it impossible for you to say no.
“Okay, but if at any time you want me to go, I’ll leave. I’d hate to be a burden.” She rolls her eyes at your stubbornness. 
She kisses your forehead. “Give me five minutes, and I’ll be with you.” She left quickly to her changing room, making you smile dumbly at her. At that specific moment, Mapi casually walks past you, rolling her eyes. “Definitely just hooking up.” She says ironically, leaving without the opportunity to say anything else.
Alexia was back to you in precisely five minutes and ready to leave. Meanwhile, you told your teammate that you would leave alone and be back tomorrow morning, to which she replied with a very suggestive smirk. You honestly really weren’t hiding anymore the fact that you were hooking up with a Barcelona player. All the team basically knew it, also your national team, so it was no surprise.
-
You get to her home, and she soon gives you some of her clothes to make you more comfy and then makes you sit on the couch and gives you a small blanket. Her little dog, Nala, sat on your lap, asking for cuddles. It was almost perfect, it just needed-
“Do you need something else? Do you want some food? Something to drink?” She was acting all serious, and while you just beamed at her, you realized that nobody had ever wanted to take care of you like she was doing right now. Your heart exploded with affection for the woman who was currently making herself so available to your every need.
“I just need you. Can you hold me, please?” She quickly sits on the couch and waits for you to come to her. “Watch out for my leg; it’s still injured.” You lightly warn her so she would make any movements towards your leg.
Your head was on her chest, some romance movie was playing in the background, and she was whispering sweet nothings in your ear, trying to lighten your fragile mood.
“So this is going to be your last year at Roma? You are not renewing?” You shake your head.
“So, where are you going?”
“Is that really a question when you already know the answer?” You tell her you weren’t looking at her face, but you could feel her face adorn with another one of her beautiful smiles.
“You are moving to Barcelona?” She asks, clearly trying to hide her excitement.
“Nothing is official yet, but I already talked to your coach. If everything goes to plan, we will be teammates. But don’t say anything to Mapi. I want to give her a surprise.”
“So we will play together? On the same team?” 
“Si, piccola mia. We will play on the same team.”
“I guess we were never meant to play against each other.” She chuckles jokingly.
“I guess not. I think we were destined to play together.”
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