This Scandalous Life - EPILOGUE
Author: original idea and plot by 
devioussoul10 and
kitty69lover eventually written by
kitty69lover !
Rating: NC-17: containing mild slash smut, het smut, femslash smut and other crazy sexual things...
Category: it's a romantic drama, with a pinch of humour
Characters: there's a plethora of footballers, from Ligue 1 and La Liga. for plot security reasons, the characters will not be revealed right now, but when they make their appearance i.e. check under the cut.
Length: mid-length story, 20 chapters + Epilogue
Summary: Wag that has it all comes across the world of slash. fleeing from her broken home, she embarks on a quest to find true love, of course for a man that isn't gay, while losing her head and path several times.
Disclaimer: i do not own the footballers in this story, nor their families. this is completely made up and quite AU too.
Authors Notes: this is not my idea, i'm just writing it. for plot issues, address
devioussoul10. the writing is mine, so you can correct mistakes and all. The taglines are all taken from IMDb
Epilogue
Location: Rennes, Bordeaux, Madrid, Valencia, Barcelona
Date: October 23, 2011
Tagline: "There were five curtain calls."
Characters: Carlos & Mike, Yoann & Marouane, David Villa & David Silva, Iker, Jelena and introducing:
Esteban Granero
&
Bojan Krkic
With Fiona gone, the weight off Carlos' shoulders lifted, allowing him to sit straight for the first time in years. He could be with Mike all the time now, free to love his lover almost everywhere as long as they were indoors.
He - they - had the entire house to themselves and for as long as Mike was in town, things were perfect. Of course, even finally liberated, Michael Bradley still played football for a team in another country and eventually, spent more time in Germany than with Carlos in Rennes.
The empty house and the perpetual loneliness frustrated Carlos. When Fiona had been there, things were so much easier and he would have a companion at all times. When she was gone - on her visits or other trips - he could have Michael.
Only when Fiona was gone and having asked for the divorce, it was obvious she was never coming back, did Carlos realise his mistake. There was so much time when he was without Michael. Time that he usually devoted to his wife.
At first, being single got him thinking awful thoughts about what was Mike doing when they weren't together. If back when he was still married, the issue of exclusivity had never arisen, for obvious reasons, now Carlos couldn't help but think Michael was probably cheating on him. After all, they only got the chance to see each other once a month.
After being consumed by such negative thoughts, Carlos decided he too could and should have some fun, after all, he was sure Mike was!
At first, he only brought back women, for your average alcohol aided one night stands and for a few weeks, things were kept in check. By his logic, being with a woman was not cheating on Mike, since he had always been with Fiona.
But after a while, the women stopped being enough, they reminded him of how perfect Fiona had been and how he would never get that back. When he brought back home what would become the first guy in a long series of random men, Carlos realised he had stepped the line, but he couldn't allow himself to become depressed.
And naturally, Michael found out. Leftover underwear belonging to a young man Carlos had seduced the night before exposed Carlos to a monumental scandal, that saw Mike walking out of his life for good.
It was then that Carlos understood that Fiona had been the binder, offering him something that allowed to part his heart and his love in two.
Perhaps he wasn't meant to be in a long term relationship, be it with a woman or a man. He was too strong to let something like a breakup get to him, so he decided to cover for the gaping hole in his heart with more one night stands and adventures.
It was fun, the seduction, the sex, the rules free nights, but waking up in the morning next to a naked stranger or two, or even alone made Carlos understand things would never be the same and that he had suffered a loss greater than he could account for.
*
“You'll never guess who called me today.” Yoann sat on the bed, buttoning his pyjama top.
“Who?”
“Andres Iniesta.”
“Oh, that poor fellow. I don't suppose he finally did something about his feelings for Xavi?”
Yoann proceeded to tell Marouane all that Andres had recounted, namely his failed attempt, Fiona's intervention, his aid in getting Xavi and Fiona together.
“I love such gossip. Andres is such a GREAT person. I don't know what I would've done in his place.”
“You're a great person, Marouane. In fact, you're my favourite person. I think you'd have done the right thing as well.”
“I hope this gets Fiona's thoughts elsewhere. To be quite honest, I don't think it was too wise to let her know these things. It is none of her business.”
“Don't worry, Fiona won't say anything. I'm actually happy she got her happy ending. Boy, was she messed up when she came here.”
“You set her course. You're so amazing, Yoann.”
The two started kissing. It was obviously going to be a long night.
*
After confessing to Fiona, Iker began to understand more clearly what he had done wrong. He would've probably reacted just like Esteban had, if David had come to him and asked him out like that. OK, perhaps not exactly like that, but without any doubt, the favourable circumstance was their drinking.
He knew it was probably wrong to still go for it, despite Esteban's most clear message, but he felt there was still the slimmest chance that his teammate would give in once he saw how good it could be. So, using the pretext of a little party he was just randomly throwing, he made sure at the end of the night, Esteban was so drunk, he could barely stand and that everyone had left already, basically leaving Esteban all but stranded.
Taking him to bed was easy, as Esteban was truly too drunk to be aware of himself and the surroundings. Finally, he could kiss him and undress him, caress his body and rub himself against it. Finally, he could do what he always wanted, and hopefully awaken something he thought might be buried in Esteban.
The sex was quick and sloppy, because Iker was too giddy and nervous at the same time and the release came accompanied by a wave of guilt. Naked under the blanket, he embraced Esteban and tried to fall asleep without feeling too mortified.
The morning did not bring good news. Esteban awoke with a shock and discovering what had undoubtedly happened during the night, barely resisted the urge to beat Iker to a pulp.
“I thought that....this is how it happened to me.....” Iker stuttered in his apology, all but crying and trying to cover himself.
Esteban dressed furiously in complete silence. When he was done, he commanded Iker's attention with a succession of finger snaps.
“This is strike two, Casillas. I'll let it slide this time as well, but should anything even remotely sexual ever happen again, I'm exposing you and reporting you to the police. Because make no mistake, you just raped me.” he shuddered at the final word, feeling nauseated and filthy.
With that, he exited the room, leaving Iker more shattered than he had ever been before. He knew very well that he had made a terrible mistake and that he had based his actions on absolutely nothing, and now, in the wake of the threats and given the malice and hatred in Granero's voice when uttering them, Iker knew he would be forever doomed.
Almost trying to drown himself in the shower, Iker Casillas contemplated his miserable life he would lead from now on, devoid of any hopes or dreams and decided he needed a woman in his life. Perhaps the pretty reporter, Sarah Carbonero.
*
Patricia had not been particularly happy with her husband revealing his secret love affair with his teammate to a journalist, regardless of his motives. She almost felt exposed and wished she had been at home that day, to make sure David did not confide too much with the intruder.
She tried to have a talk down with both of them later that day, but they simply didn't understand that what they told her could've been harmful to their peculiar menage a trois. Eventually, she got a bad headache while the two kept on saying they only wanted Fiona to know how happy they all were.
In the end, her fears did not come true and there was no outing, no threat letters, Fiona Bocanegra turned Vasquez again did not reveal anything in any of the papers she was writing for and was never heard from again. So Patricia could relax and enjoy her triple life.
On the outside, she was David Villa's wife, his childhood sweetheart, mother of his kids and best beloved. She had a solid, unbreakable marriage and a life commoners envied her for. On the inside, she was the passive part of a modern day threesome involving her lawfully wedded husband and his best friend and lover, David Silva.
Being part of the two Davids' life was Patricia's greatest satisfaction. She adored them together and gaining the privilege to watch them, to be a real spectator of their love and love making was her most prized achievement, second only to her beautiful daughters.
But it was the third identity, concealed even from her husband and his lover, that made Patricia's days all worth it. As a football slash writer, using the two men in her life as primary fodder for her stories, Patricia was a queen on slash archives, with adoring fans and praise galore for each and every of her writings.
Undoubtedly, anything coming up in the media would've ruined Patricia's all three lives, hence her concern. But as nothing came of her worries, her triple life carried on as before, with the two men frolicking about just as they always did, just as in love as they had always been, not a cloud on the deep blue sky of their affection for one another.
At the end of the day, Patricia could honestly say she was an accomplished woman. She had just obtained permission to actually be in the room with them when they were together, a favour she had been denied for so long.
So, abandoning her usual post by the double mirrored wall leading to Silva's room, Patricia stepped in the other room, catching the two in the middle of a fervent kiss.
“Don't mind me, my dears. Pretend I don't exist.”
They gave her a look, shrugged and then resumed their kissing.
*
Jelena was feeling lonely. She had never felt this lonely in her life, even if her brother was just a minute's walk away. She had known all along that her little experiment with Fiona would end sometimes in the not even so distant future, that it would prove to be a mistake. But how could she have refused Fiona when all she wanted was to love her, even if for a little while?
She needed a distraction, she needed to do something different, in order to cleanse herself of this somehow failed affair. Something wild and unconventional, even for her. She sat at her desk in her room, thinking what would be exciting enough and yet in her immediate reach.
Then an idea came to her and Jelena all but jumped up with glee. She just needed to find the right person for the job and she was all set. She quickly stripped of her tracksuit she usually wore indoors and putting on a gold and black dress, with matching sandals and clutch, she left for the Oasis, the Barcelona based LGBT athletes private club.
Finding her way in the bar after such a long time, Jelena hoped she would find the right woman for what she had planned for the night. However, scanning the bar from the height of the stool, with ice slowly melting in her Manhattan, she had to admit it was a disappointing crowd.
Suddenly she spotted a very familiar face. A wicked thought crossed her mind and she immediately hopped off the chair, rushing to catch Bojan Krkic before he made his way out.
“Bojan, hey!”
“Hi Jelena.” he said, a little intimidated.
“All alone?”
“Yeah. I just came for the music tonight, I've been on and off with my boydfriend lately.”
Soon, they were sharing a table, chatting like they were old friends, and Jelena could not stop looking at his youthful, beautiful face. The idea in her mind was too crazy, and none of them had had enough to drink for her to speak up, so she just tried her best to keep herself grounded.
“Look, as you probably know, Fiona broke up with me. I feel I need a little bit of crazyness in my life right now.” she explained to him on their way out.
“What do you have in mind?” he asked, feeling rather intrigued.
Jelena was quick to tell him, feeling rather embarrassing that he was nowhere near as shocked as she would've imagined. Getting in his car, they drove to her place.
*
Zlatan couldn't sleep. He knew he had made the right decision in sending Fiona on her way, but at the same time, he somehow missed her. He didn't like being alone and he now that Jelena was in some sort of mourning, he didn't have access to her either.
Getting out of bed, he decided he needed to tell his sister about the week Fiona had spent with him. He hated having secrets from his sister, and especially such a secret, that would come out sooner or later. He preferred she heard from him rather than from someone else. Putting a cotton robe on, Zlatan braved the cold and walked to Jelena's house.
He didn't knock, and using his key, made it inside with ease. The place was dark and Zlatan realised it was well past 2 o'clock AM, and that she could be asleep. He was about to turn around and leave, when he thought he heard moans coming from the master bedroom.
And not just any moans, but rather manly moans that certainly didn't belong to his sister. Or rather, to any woman. A curious nature and trying his best to forget what he had seen the last time he had taken a peek in his sister's bedroom, Zlatan approached the room. Common sense made him stop twice, but the manly moans were really making him intrigued and of course, just like last time, the door was teasingly cracked open.
He pressed himself against the wall and peered in most carefully, and the sight that welcomed him was so hard to believe, he had to look again.
Jelena was on top of his young teammate Bojan, fucking him with what was obviously a very large strap-on. Zlatan could clearly see Bojan stroking himself, his body jerking with each and every of Jelena's thrusts, while she was holding onto his spread legs for leverage all panting and grunting herself.
Covering his face, Zlatan hid himself behind the wall, trying to will his half erection to subside. The intertwined moans coming from the bed only a few feet away was making it very hard to achieve that.
“Damn, that's my sister, I can't join in”. Sighing, Zlatan mouthed his repressed wishes and with an incredible effort, walked away.
Perhaps revealing his little secret could wait. Maybe forever. Ashamed and aroused at the same time, Zlatan made his way out of the house, and spent 5 minutes walking up and down the driveway, in the cold October nigth as punishment.
Jelena would never know why her brother suddenly decided to move out of her guest house the very next day. She was happy with her new lover and perhaps it was time her little brother to move on.
The End
devioussoul10 and
kitty69lover eventually written by
kitty69lover !
Rating: NC-17: containing mild slash smut, het smut, femslash smut and other crazy sexual things...
Category: it's a romantic drama, with a pinch of humour
Characters: there's a plethora of footballers, from Ligue 1 and La Liga. for plot security reasons, the characters will not be revealed right now, but when they make their appearance i.e. check under the cut.
Length: mid-length story, 20 chapters + Epilogue
Summary: Wag that has it all comes across the world of slash. fleeing from her broken home, she embarks on a quest to find true love, of course for a man that isn't gay, while losing her head and path several times.
Disclaimer: i do not own the footballers in this story, nor their families. this is completely made up and quite AU too.
Authors Notes: this is not my idea, i'm just writing it. for plot issues, address
devioussoul10. the writing is mine, so you can correct mistakes and all. The taglines are all taken from IMDb
Epilogue
Location: Rennes, Bordeaux, Madrid, Valencia, Barcelona
Date: October 23, 2011
Tagline: "There were five curtain calls."
Characters: Carlos & Mike, Yoann & Marouane, David Villa & David Silva, Iker, Jelena and introducing:
Esteban Granero
&
Bojan Krkic
With Fiona gone, the weight off Carlos' shoulders lifted, allowing him to sit straight for the first time in years. He could be with Mike all the time now, free to love his lover almost everywhere as long as they were indoors.
He - they - had the entire house to themselves and for as long as Mike was in town, things were perfect. Of course, even finally liberated, Michael Bradley still played football for a team in another country and eventually, spent more time in Germany than with Carlos in Rennes.
The empty house and the perpetual loneliness frustrated Carlos. When Fiona had been there, things were so much easier and he would have a companion at all times. When she was gone - on her visits or other trips - he could have Michael.
Only when Fiona was gone and having asked for the divorce, it was obvious she was never coming back, did Carlos realise his mistake. There was so much time when he was without Michael. Time that he usually devoted to his wife.
At first, being single got him thinking awful thoughts about what was Mike doing when they weren't together. If back when he was still married, the issue of exclusivity had never arisen, for obvious reasons, now Carlos couldn't help but think Michael was probably cheating on him. After all, they only got the chance to see each other once a month.
After being consumed by such negative thoughts, Carlos decided he too could and should have some fun, after all, he was sure Mike was!
At first, he only brought back women, for your average alcohol aided one night stands and for a few weeks, things were kept in check. By his logic, being with a woman was not cheating on Mike, since he had always been with Fiona.
But after a while, the women stopped being enough, they reminded him of how perfect Fiona had been and how he would never get that back. When he brought back home what would become the first guy in a long series of random men, Carlos realised he had stepped the line, but he couldn't allow himself to become depressed.
And naturally, Michael found out. Leftover underwear belonging to a young man Carlos had seduced the night before exposed Carlos to a monumental scandal, that saw Mike walking out of his life for good.
It was then that Carlos understood that Fiona had been the binder, offering him something that allowed to part his heart and his love in two.
Perhaps he wasn't meant to be in a long term relationship, be it with a woman or a man. He was too strong to let something like a breakup get to him, so he decided to cover for the gaping hole in his heart with more one night stands and adventures.
It was fun, the seduction, the sex, the rules free nights, but waking up in the morning next to a naked stranger or two, or even alone made Carlos understand things would never be the same and that he had suffered a loss greater than he could account for.
*
“You'll never guess who called me today.” Yoann sat on the bed, buttoning his pyjama top.
“Who?”
“Andres Iniesta.”
“Oh, that poor fellow. I don't suppose he finally did something about his feelings for Xavi?”
Yoann proceeded to tell Marouane all that Andres had recounted, namely his failed attempt, Fiona's intervention, his aid in getting Xavi and Fiona together.
“I love such gossip. Andres is such a GREAT person. I don't know what I would've done in his place.”
“You're a great person, Marouane. In fact, you're my favourite person. I think you'd have done the right thing as well.”
“I hope this gets Fiona's thoughts elsewhere. To be quite honest, I don't think it was too wise to let her know these things. It is none of her business.”
“Don't worry, Fiona won't say anything. I'm actually happy she got her happy ending. Boy, was she messed up when she came here.”
“You set her course. You're so amazing, Yoann.”
The two started kissing. It was obviously going to be a long night.
*
After confessing to Fiona, Iker began to understand more clearly what he had done wrong. He would've probably reacted just like Esteban had, if David had come to him and asked him out like that. OK, perhaps not exactly like that, but without any doubt, the favourable circumstance was their drinking.
He knew it was probably wrong to still go for it, despite Esteban's most clear message, but he felt there was still the slimmest chance that his teammate would give in once he saw how good it could be. So, using the pretext of a little party he was just randomly throwing, he made sure at the end of the night, Esteban was so drunk, he could barely stand and that everyone had left already, basically leaving Esteban all but stranded.
Taking him to bed was easy, as Esteban was truly too drunk to be aware of himself and the surroundings. Finally, he could kiss him and undress him, caress his body and rub himself against it. Finally, he could do what he always wanted, and hopefully awaken something he thought might be buried in Esteban.
The sex was quick and sloppy, because Iker was too giddy and nervous at the same time and the release came accompanied by a wave of guilt. Naked under the blanket, he embraced Esteban and tried to fall asleep without feeling too mortified.
The morning did not bring good news. Esteban awoke with a shock and discovering what had undoubtedly happened during the night, barely resisted the urge to beat Iker to a pulp.
“I thought that....this is how it happened to me.....” Iker stuttered in his apology, all but crying and trying to cover himself.
Esteban dressed furiously in complete silence. When he was done, he commanded Iker's attention with a succession of finger snaps.
“This is strike two, Casillas. I'll let it slide this time as well, but should anything even remotely sexual ever happen again, I'm exposing you and reporting you to the police. Because make no mistake, you just raped me.” he shuddered at the final word, feeling nauseated and filthy.
With that, he exited the room, leaving Iker more shattered than he had ever been before. He knew very well that he had made a terrible mistake and that he had based his actions on absolutely nothing, and now, in the wake of the threats and given the malice and hatred in Granero's voice when uttering them, Iker knew he would be forever doomed.
Almost trying to drown himself in the shower, Iker Casillas contemplated his miserable life he would lead from now on, devoid of any hopes or dreams and decided he needed a woman in his life. Perhaps the pretty reporter, Sarah Carbonero.
*
Patricia had not been particularly happy with her husband revealing his secret love affair with his teammate to a journalist, regardless of his motives. She almost felt exposed and wished she had been at home that day, to make sure David did not confide too much with the intruder.
She tried to have a talk down with both of them later that day, but they simply didn't understand that what they told her could've been harmful to their peculiar menage a trois. Eventually, she got a bad headache while the two kept on saying they only wanted Fiona to know how happy they all were.
In the end, her fears did not come true and there was no outing, no threat letters, Fiona Bocanegra turned Vasquez again did not reveal anything in any of the papers she was writing for and was never heard from again. So Patricia could relax and enjoy her triple life.
On the outside, she was David Villa's wife, his childhood sweetheart, mother of his kids and best beloved. She had a solid, unbreakable marriage and a life commoners envied her for. On the inside, she was the passive part of a modern day threesome involving her lawfully wedded husband and his best friend and lover, David Silva.
Being part of the two Davids' life was Patricia's greatest satisfaction. She adored them together and gaining the privilege to watch them, to be a real spectator of their love and love making was her most prized achievement, second only to her beautiful daughters.
But it was the third identity, concealed even from her husband and his lover, that made Patricia's days all worth it. As a football slash writer, using the two men in her life as primary fodder for her stories, Patricia was a queen on slash archives, with adoring fans and praise galore for each and every of her writings.
Undoubtedly, anything coming up in the media would've ruined Patricia's all three lives, hence her concern. But as nothing came of her worries, her triple life carried on as before, with the two men frolicking about just as they always did, just as in love as they had always been, not a cloud on the deep blue sky of their affection for one another.
At the end of the day, Patricia could honestly say she was an accomplished woman. She had just obtained permission to actually be in the room with them when they were together, a favour she had been denied for so long.
So, abandoning her usual post by the double mirrored wall leading to Silva's room, Patricia stepped in the other room, catching the two in the middle of a fervent kiss.
“Don't mind me, my dears. Pretend I don't exist.”
They gave her a look, shrugged and then resumed their kissing.
*
Jelena was feeling lonely. She had never felt this lonely in her life, even if her brother was just a minute's walk away. She had known all along that her little experiment with Fiona would end sometimes in the not even so distant future, that it would prove to be a mistake. But how could she have refused Fiona when all she wanted was to love her, even if for a little while?
She needed a distraction, she needed to do something different, in order to cleanse herself of this somehow failed affair. Something wild and unconventional, even for her. She sat at her desk in her room, thinking what would be exciting enough and yet in her immediate reach.
Then an idea came to her and Jelena all but jumped up with glee. She just needed to find the right person for the job and she was all set. She quickly stripped of her tracksuit she usually wore indoors and putting on a gold and black dress, with matching sandals and clutch, she left for the Oasis, the Barcelona based LGBT athletes private club.
Finding her way in the bar after such a long time, Jelena hoped she would find the right woman for what she had planned for the night. However, scanning the bar from the height of the stool, with ice slowly melting in her Manhattan, she had to admit it was a disappointing crowd.
Suddenly she spotted a very familiar face. A wicked thought crossed her mind and she immediately hopped off the chair, rushing to catch Bojan Krkic before he made his way out.
“Bojan, hey!”
“Hi Jelena.” he said, a little intimidated.
“All alone?”
“Yeah. I just came for the music tonight, I've been on and off with my boydfriend lately.”
Soon, they were sharing a table, chatting like they were old friends, and Jelena could not stop looking at his youthful, beautiful face. The idea in her mind was too crazy, and none of them had had enough to drink for her to speak up, so she just tried her best to keep herself grounded.
“Look, as you probably know, Fiona broke up with me. I feel I need a little bit of crazyness in my life right now.” she explained to him on their way out.
“What do you have in mind?” he asked, feeling rather intrigued.
Jelena was quick to tell him, feeling rather embarrassing that he was nowhere near as shocked as she would've imagined. Getting in his car, they drove to her place.
*
Zlatan couldn't sleep. He knew he had made the right decision in sending Fiona on her way, but at the same time, he somehow missed her. He didn't like being alone and he now that Jelena was in some sort of mourning, he didn't have access to her either.
Getting out of bed, he decided he needed to tell his sister about the week Fiona had spent with him. He hated having secrets from his sister, and especially such a secret, that would come out sooner or later. He preferred she heard from him rather than from someone else. Putting a cotton robe on, Zlatan braved the cold and walked to Jelena's house.
He didn't knock, and using his key, made it inside with ease. The place was dark and Zlatan realised it was well past 2 o'clock AM, and that she could be asleep. He was about to turn around and leave, when he thought he heard moans coming from the master bedroom.
And not just any moans, but rather manly moans that certainly didn't belong to his sister. Or rather, to any woman. A curious nature and trying his best to forget what he had seen the last time he had taken a peek in his sister's bedroom, Zlatan approached the room. Common sense made him stop twice, but the manly moans were really making him intrigued and of course, just like last time, the door was teasingly cracked open.
He pressed himself against the wall and peered in most carefully, and the sight that welcomed him was so hard to believe, he had to look again.
Jelena was on top of his young teammate Bojan, fucking him with what was obviously a very large strap-on. Zlatan could clearly see Bojan stroking himself, his body jerking with each and every of Jelena's thrusts, while she was holding onto his spread legs for leverage all panting and grunting herself.
Covering his face, Zlatan hid himself behind the wall, trying to will his half erection to subside. The intertwined moans coming from the bed only a few feet away was making it very hard to achieve that.
“Damn, that's my sister, I can't join in”. Sighing, Zlatan mouthed his repressed wishes and with an incredible effort, walked away.
Perhaps revealing his little secret could wait. Maybe forever. Ashamed and aroused at the same time, Zlatan made his way out of the house, and spent 5 minutes walking up and down the driveway, in the cold October nigth as punishment.
Jelena would never know why her brother suddenly decided to move out of her guest house the very next day. She was happy with her new lover and perhaps it was time her little brother to move on.
The End