#'maybe i should ask the girl which numbers won']

[horrorwebs]

fUUUUUUUIIICCCCCKCKCKKKCKCKCKCKCK

[leahwllmsn]

somebody to you

alexia putellas x reader

word count: 9.6k

You’re not a footballer and knowing that your girlfriend is one of the best footballers in the world… you definitely think Alexia deserves better than you. Maybe someone like her ex—World Cup winner, Jenni Hermoso.

; angst, fluff

When you first met your girlfriend, Alexia, you had no idea who she was.

Football was the last thing you could ever be interested in. How were you supposed to know that the blonde in front of you was one of the best footballers in the world?

Whenever you recall back to that moment, you could still remember every single detail—her hair up in a messy ponytail, a pair of sunglasses resting on top of her head, and her faded grey sweatshirt paired with light blue jorts. (Who the hell wore jorts?) Not to mention the permanent scowl etched on her face. She made smiling seem like a chore.

When it was her turn to order and all she did was point to the menu to show you what she wanted, you frowned because, a) that was so rude—how hard was it to say that she wanted a hot chocolate? but b) she looked so damn hot and you were a sucker for pretty, bratty girls. 

She was perfect.

When you decided to shoot your shot and wrote your number on her cup (and a note that went: you should smile more often, I haven’t seen it, but I’d bet that it’s the most beautiful smile in the world x), you didn’t think she’d do anything about it. 

Imagine your surprise when you received a text from an unknown number later that night.

hola

I just wanted to tell you to do better with your pick-up line

That was a few months ago and now you could confidently say that Alexia’s smile was indeed the most beautiful smile in the world. 

It was tough to break down her walls at first, Alexia always exuded a nonchalant vibe, only smiled when she had to, and didn't look like she enjoyed whatever it was you two were doing. 

You were never a quitter though. So you kept on texting her, asking if she wanted to go for another date. 

She kept on saying yes and that was when you knew that underneath her indifferent mood, she enjoyed your little dates.

Her tough exterior was merely a front and your suspicions were confirmed when one night, she started laughing so hard mid-sentence, causing you to stop whatever it was you were doing because wow, you could listen to her laughter on repeat for the rest of your life.

“Y/N,” she grabbed your face in her hands, gently rubbing your cheeks, her laughter fading into a gentle, warm smile on her face. “You’ve been so patient with my grumpiness. That is a talent.”

“Ale, I really like you,” you chuckled. “That includes your grumpiness.”

“I’m not always like this,” she confessed. You only looked at her in confusion before she told you everything. Who she was, what Alexia Putellas meant to the world, and most importantly, her ACL—the injury that caused her to lose sight of the world for a bit.

“I was just so angry with the world, even now that I’ve healed, I still hated that it happened to me because I missed out for months, I missed out on so many moments. So the bitterness likes to reappear every now and then… That, and I don’t really trust people so easily; people usually want something from me. I didn’t know what you wanted from me.”

“Ale… I had no idea who you were,” you gave her a sheepish smile. “Which might be stupid of me, now that I think about it. I mean, I should know you, shouldn’t I? You’ve won that balloon football award or whatever and it’s ridiculous that I have no idea who—”

You were cut off by a pair of lips crashing into your own. Alexia silencing all your worries with the softest kiss, her strawberry chapstick was all you could taste. She pulled away to rest her forehead against yours, eyes staring at you intently, your favourite smile on display. “I don’t care that you don’t know who I am, Y/N. In fact, I love it. You treat me so normally. Eres mi favorita.”

You couldn’t help the grin on your face. “Am I? You wanna be my girlfriend then, Putellas?”

When all she did was flash you her signature smirk, her eyebrows raised, and an “ask me in a more romantic way, por favor” thrown your way—that was when you realized that you’d broken down her walls completely, and oh you were insufferable. Because the way she looked at you? The way her eyes lit up, her lips slowly curling into a stupidly perfect grin? People would go to war to have someone look at them like that.

You were so head over heels in love with Alexia.

—

Being Alexia’s girlfriend—or wag, as you learned of the term on the internet—was more than you could ever dream of.

You still worked part time at the café where you two met while juggling your studies to finish your master degree. On weekends, you would support Alexia on her games. Cheering her on, not caring about anything else except when Alexia had the ball on her feet.

You were happy in the bubble you and Alexia created.

That was until one Saturday night, you were seated at your usual seat at the stadium among friends and families of the players, when someone plopped down on the seat next to you.

You still weren’t that familiar with football, having only been to ten games in total. You knew the rules, you knew a couple of Alexia’s teammates after stalking them online (you two were still keeping your relationship a secret from everyone else), but that was mostly it. 

So you didn’t know who the person next to you was until she offered a small smile, outstretching her hand for you to shake.

Jenni.

The name was a bit familiar, so was her face. You couldn’t quite place where you’ve seen her before though.

“Who do you know on the team?” her voice brought you out of your daydream, wracking your brain on why she looked familiar.

“Uhm,” you stuttered. Right. This was the friends and family section, you couldn’t sit here if you didn’t know anyone. “Alexia.”

Jenni was surprised, you could tell with the way her eyes widened for a split second, not expecting your answer. “Friend of Ale’s, huh?”

You didn’t like how she said your girlfriend’s name. With that hint of… fondness. You suddenly felt a possessive feeling growing in your chest and you just wanted to tell everyone that Alexia is yours.

Jenni stared at the field, her eyes fixating on Alexia. You could see an affectionate smile on her face and that was when it clicked. You’ve seen her on Alexia's Instagram before. Jenni used to be her teammate at Barcelona before she moved to Mexico.

You knew this because in the picture, Jenni was smiling at Alexia the same way. And even though your Spanish wasn’t spectacular, you remembered reading the paragraph Alexia wrote for Jenni and getting the hint at how close they were with how Alexia seemed to think so highly of Jenni.

“You’re her teammate, yeah?”

Jenni turned back to look at you, nodding. “I don’t play for Barça anymore, but we still play on the national team together.”

“Cool.” 

Jenni gave a small laugh. “You don’t know much about football, do you?”

You grimaced, “Is it that obvious?”

“Don’t worry about it,” she patted your arm in what was meant to be a comforting gesture, but it made you feel even more stupid and out of place in this whole stadium, where everyone knew what they were getting into when they bought tickets to the game. “It’s just that—not trying to sound arrogant or anything—but usually people know who I am because I used to play for this team. So you not recognizing me straight away gave me the clue that you’re probably not a Culer.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Culer?”

“Fans of the club.”

“Ah.” You were definitely not a Barcelona fan. You were a fan of your girlfriend though, and if that meant you had to be a Culer or whatever it was, then you would be.

So when you laid down in Alexia’s bed that night, you mentioned to her that starting from today, you were a Culer. She burst out laughing and you can feel her grip you tighter, having your face completely smashed against her neck—not that you minded, you had always felt so content being pressed up against Alexia.

“Mi amor,” she cooed, looking down to face you, her hand finding its way to its favourite resting place on your cheek. “When did you learn that?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, starting to feel a bit insecure at this whole thing. “Well, we’ve been dating for three months now—next week it would be four—and I still don’t know shit about football, but, Ale… I’d be a Culer for you.”

Alexia giggled and pecked your lips, smiling your favourite smile of hers (the one that made her eyes sparkle and the small dimples on her cheek to come out).

“You’re perfect, did you know? I love you whether you’re a Culer or not.”

“Hm,” you pretended to be deep in thought. “Then what if I become a Real Madrid fan?”

Alexia gave you an unimpressed look. “Don’t push it.”

“I’m going to Madrid next week with a couple of my friends and maybe I could catch a game—”

And Alexia did what had become her favourite thing to do: interrupting your ramble with a kiss. You had a love-hate relationship with the gesture, because while you do love having her soft lips on yours, it was so annoying to be cut off mid-sentence.

You never complained though. You’d happily get interrupted if it meant having Alexia kiss you like you were the last person on earth.

That night, you buried your uneasiness as a result of your encounter with Jenni deep, deep inside.

(You didn’t know just how important Jenni was to Alexia.)

—

Jenni was in town for a couple of days, you’d later learn.

You would usually go to Alexia’s after you were done for the day, mostly spending the night at hers. That was why Alexia ended up giving you a spare key—so you would be able to come as you please.

It wasn’t unusual for you to have to use your spare key. What was unusual was the sight of Jenni sitting on your girlfriend’s couch, looking surprised at you barging into your girlfriend’s home.

“Hi…” you gave an awkward small wave at her, closing the door behind you as you slowly stepped inside the apartment.

“Oh! Y/N, right?” Jenni stood up to face you and you could tell that this was very much awkward for her as it was for you. “Nice to meet you again.”

You gave her your best smile, trying your hardest not to be rude as you scan the place for any sight of your favourite blonde. “Is… Alexia here?”

“I have no idea where she is honestly,” at that you couldn’t help the way your eyebrows rose to the top of your head. “I’m in Barcelona for a couple of days. I was supposed to meet her tomorrow morning for breakfast but I don’t think I’ll be able to make it. So I figured I’d meet her tonight instead. I have an extra key so…”

You didn’t like what you were hearing at all, but you kept your cool. That was the jealousy inside of you, you knew this. Jenni’s a friend. You really should tone down your green-eyed monster.

“What are you doing here?” It was Jenni’s turn to ask you. 

“I, too, have a spare key,” you intended to joke about the situation, but your tone felt off and Jenni can sense it too. 

Jenni had a lot of questions, you could tell. It was easy to read the emotions on her face. 

You had to remind yourself that she didn’t know you were dating Alexia. She didn’t know that you basically spent more nights here than at your own place. It was natural to be curious as to why there was a random girl showing up at your best friend’s house at 10 pm, with her own sets of keys nonetheless.

Wanting to get out of the awkward situation, you excused yourself, saying you’d meet Alexia some other time, bidding Jenni goodbye.

You texted Alexia a simple good night once you settled in your bed. 

When Alexia responded back with a short text back, sweet dreams, mi amor, and not a phone call asking why you weren’t in her bed, you let that feeling of uneasiness return to the surface.

—

You didn’t get to overthink for too long because when you wake up, it was because you felt your bed dip and the familiar scent of your girlfriend engulfing you as she settled behind you.

“Bon dia,” Alexia whispered, wrapping her arms around your waist, pulling you to her. “I missed you last night.”

You turned around to burrow your face into her collarbones, letting out a content sigh. “Missed you too.”

“Jenni told me you visited my place but left immediately.”

At the mention of her name, you froze. What a way to ruin the moment. “Yeah,” was all you replied, which was weird to Alexia considering how talkative you were in the mornings.

“Why didn’t you wait for me, bebita? You always wait for me even when I’m not home.”

You shrugged, “Jenni was there already.”

Alexia went still for a moment, which you thought was odd.

You wanted so badly to keep quiet, but the 

nagging feelings that you couldn’t shake grew stronger. “She has a spare key too. Do you just go around giving keys to your apartment to everyone? I thought I was special,” you chuckled, meaning it to be a joke, waiting for Alexia to respond with her usual snarky retort.

When Alexia didn’t say anything, you pulled back from her, looking up to stare at her face. She was looking anywhere but you.

“Ale? I’m only kidding. I know she’s your friend.”

Alexia cleared her throat, “You see…” 

You sat up, something about her tone brought up that uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“Jenni’s my ex.”

Ah. That definitely burst the bubble you’d carefully created.

You gave a bitter laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “So your ex still has a key to your place,” you stated. You were about to swallow your sentence when you suddenly felt anger rising in your chest with how blindsided you were. “Did she spend the night?”

Alexia looked like a deer caught in the headlights. You felt sick.

“That’s a yes.”

“Amor…”

You shook of her touch and went to stand up. You looked at the blonde in your bed and you felt your heart crushed. You hated how Alexia looked like a kicked puppy, immediately scrambling to chase after you once she realized you were leaving the room.

“Y/N, it’s not what you think—”

“Your ex still has a key to your place and she stayed the night,” you were mostly repeating it to yourself, trying to wrap your head around the fact somehow.

“She slept on the couch!” Alexia interjected. “Nothing happened, amor, I swear.”

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. You didn’t want to fight with Alexia. Besides, deep down you knew that Alexia wasn’t the type of person to be unfaithful.

“Okay,” you relented, opening your fridge with the aim of making breakfast, trying to busy yourself with something that wasn’t looking at your girlfriend.

Alexia didn’t seem convinced that you’d drop the subject just like that. “There's nothing going on between Jenni and I. She's a good friend.”

You grabbed an empty bowl. “Okay.” You scooped some yogurt out of its jar and placed a spoonful in your bowl. Jenni’s a good friend. Just a friend.

“Mi vida… I know it’s… weird? To still be friends with an ex, but…”

You poured some granola on top of your yogurt. Who the hell stayed friends with their ex? Alexia. Sweet, lovely Alexia. 

Looking down at your bowl and seeing a sad, miserable breakfast (just like how you were feeling), you pinched the bridge of your nose, feeling a small headache coming through. You felt like crying but that seemed pathetic so you shoved the feeling away. Jenni was an ex, but she was a good friend. You had to live with that.

“I trust you, Ale,” you sighed. “If you say she’s a good friend, then I trust you.” 

She went up behind you and rested her chin on your shoulder, her arms encircling your waist. “I love you,” she whispered into your shoulder, placing a kiss on the exposed skin. “I really do. Jenni and I broke up ages ago.”

They broke up ages ago. That was grand. You were fine. People stayed friends with their ex and nothing happened. Right?

When you didn’t say anything else, just continuing to stare at your breakfast, Alexia poked your side. “Hey,” she placed a peck on your back. “Please don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad, love.” More like jealous. Or fucking devastated that your girlfriend’s ex was a sexy footballer just like herself. How could you ever compete with that?

“Y/N,” Alexia’s voice brought you out of your thoughts. “Babygirl.”

At that you couldn’t help the laughter that escaped your lips. You turned around to face her, her arms stayed trapping you against the counter. “Please don't call me that ever again.”

“Why?” Alexia smirked, her face inching closer to yours. 

“I hate it, Ale, por favor,” you groaned. 

Alexia grinned at you, pecking your lips “Hm. I love when you speak Spanish.”

And when Alexia kissed you, any thoughts of your girlfriend’s ex escaped your brain completely. 

Alexia chose you. So what if she still hung out with her ex? Plenty of people do. Plus, you trust Alexia. You had nothing to worry about.

—

Apparently it wasn’t Alexia you had to worry about. It was yourself. You were your own worst enemy and all that.

You didn’t mean to let the thoughts run loose.

When Jenni left for Mexico, you were elated. No more running into your girlfriend’s ex and no more ex-girlfriend trying to steal your girlfriend’s time away from you.

You didn’t factor in the fact that Alexia and Jenni were national teammates. So when international break came and both Alexia and Jenni were called up to camp in Portugal… 

You felt like you were going crazy.

You knew you were being dumb, but you couldn’t help it. You didn't think that Alexia would cheat on you—that possibility never crossed your mind.

You just couldn’t help but feel incomparible to Jenni.

That was how you went into a rabbit hole of watching every Alexia and Jenni videos on the internet.

It was a mistake, really. A stupid, terrible mistake, because you could see how well they fit together.

Their chemistry on and off the field were something else, you kinda felt stupid to think that Jenni was the one ruining your relationship when it could very well be that you were the one preventing Alexia from being with someone who truly gets her.

Because you were sure that Jenni understood Alexia in ways that you may never do. They had been through thick and thin together—Alexia’s injury, the issue with the Spanish Federation—they won countless of football championships together, for god's sake.

And how exactly were you supposed to compete with that? Alexia lived and breathed football, you wouldn’t step foot inside a football match if your girlfriend wasn't on the team.

You didn’t get this world of hers and you knew that you never would. 

Unlike Jenni. This was her world already. 

They'd be perfect together—they were perfect together.

You hated how you were able to let your thoughts spiral as you stared at another video of Jenni looking at Alexia like she was the only person in the room.

You knew Alexia loved you, you had no doubt about that, and you loved her too. But maybe Jenni could love her better.

Jenni was perfect for Alexia in ways that you weren’t. With that thought replaying in your head, you turned off your phone and kept it locked inside your drawer.

You were never one to be obsessed with your phone, having gone days without it and being absolutely fine. So that was what you did. Mostly because you didn't want to talk to Alexia.

You couldn’t handle it if Alexia came to the same realization as you—that you were nothing compared to Jenni and she could very much just get back together with her ex.

Just imagining it crushed your heart into bits so you tried your best to push it away as you went through your day.

—

Alexia decided to leave camp a day earlier than she was supposed to. She said she had a family emergency to attend to, which was true, considering you had yet to respond to any of her calls or texts. She must’ve sounded so desperate to return back to Barcelona, causing them to reluctantly let her go.

She got on the first plane available and went straight home. Usually you would stay over at hers when she was out of town, claiming that you always missed her when she wasn’t around and having her scent engulf you was the next best thing.

However, when Alexia entered her apartment and there were no signs of you, she dropped her bag and hurriedly got into her car to drive to yours. She thanked god that your place was only five minutes away. 

Quickly putting her car into park, she tried to regulate her breathing and convinced herself that you were fine. 

You were fine. You had to be. You were fine when Alexia left for the airport just a week ago.

With the thought that you maybe broke your phone or lost it, Alexia inserted the spare key you gave her and unlocked the door.

You weren’t in the living room. Or the kitchen. So that left one more place. Knocking softly on your bedroom door, she called out your name. When she didn’t get a reply, she let herself in.

No one was there, or in the bathroom. Sighing to herself, she made her way back to the living room and laid down on the couch.

Alexia was never the one to cry easily but she really wanted to. She had no idea where you were, or if you were safe. Never had she felt so helpless before.

This was maybe her fault for wanting to keep you two a secret.

Now she couldn’t contact any of your friends because she didn’t know them.

She took a deep breath and willed herself to focus on where you could be. The café you work at, perhaps? But it was a Sunday and you didn’t work on Sundays because Alexia didn’t have anything to do either and Sundays were your lounging-around-in-bed-until-lunch-time type of days.

Maybe you were at the library. You were going to have your exams next week. Alexia already had your schedule memorized. But it was nearing midnight and you never—

“Ale?” you couldn’t help the surprise in your tone. “Aren’t you supposed to still be at camp?”

Alexia jumped a foot in the air, mostly because she didn’t hear you come in and was scared shitless but also because oh my god, she could finally breathe now that you were okay. 

Alexia immediately wrapped her arms around you, she felt like she never wanted to let you go. Ever. “And you’re supposed to reply to my calls, amor.”

Well. 

“My phone’s broken.”

Alexia pulled back and looked at you, her face telling you that she didn’t quite believe you. 

“My phone’s lost…?” you tried again, giving her a sheepish smile. You were starting to feel bad for ignoring her.

Alexia only sighed in response, dropping on the couch and pulling you to sit on her lap. “I’m just glad you’re okay, mi vida. I was really worried.”

You felt even guiltier now. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d be.”

You were taken aback at the look of pure disbelief on Alexia’s face at your words. You really didn’t think she’d worry about you—with having to go to training everyday, hanging out with her national teammates, having Jenni around.

“That’s…” Alexia shook her head, trying to get her words out. “That’s ridiculous, amor. Why would I not be worried about you?”

You shrugged. “You’re busy, love. I’d understand.”

Alexia quickly shook her head, you were afraid she'd get whiplash with how frantic her movements were. “I am always busy during camp, sí, but never too busy enough for you? Did I do something to make you feel like I would not have time for you? I didn’t realize—”

Now it was your turn to silence her with a kiss, which was a rare occurrence—cool, calm Alexia never rambled.

You felt her sigh against your mouth, her whispers of a soft “te amo mucho” made you go completely limp in her arms.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” you reassured her. “It’s just me, don’t worry about it.”

“I will always have time for you and I will always worry about you. Because I love you.”

You smiled at her, despite having the worst feeling in the pit of your stomach you still believe her whenever she said it to you. “I love you too, Ale. I’m sorry for worrying you.”

She was still looking at you with worry etched on her face. “Anything else on your pretty mind?” 

You felt that if you voiced your thoughts out loud, you’d sound like a crazy, jealous girlfriend and you didn’t want that. So you simply said nothing and laid your head on her chest.

This was fine. You were in Alexia’s arms. Jenni was far away in Mexico. (Well, Portugal right now, but she’d eventually return to Mexico).

You promised yourself you wouldn't let your insane, full of jealousy thoughts ruin what you had with Alexia.

—

People found out about you and Alexia a month later. And by people, that meant the whole damn earth.

Since you never mentioned Alexia to your friends—just casually mentioning that you were seeing someone, but not necessarily specifying who exactly you were dating—the moment your pictures with alexia blew up on the internet, so did your phone.

They were candid pictures of you and Alexia at the beach. Private candid pictures.

You unlocked your phone and scrolled through the countless texts from your friends.

how did you manage to bag THE alexia putellas???

idiota text me back wtf!!!

did you blackmail her oh my god you genius

Which were definitely rude. And didn’t help at all the voices at the back of your head screaming that you weren't good enough for Alexia.

It was a hellish morning.

The only thing saving it was the sound of keys at the front door, and a moment later your girlfriend was stepping inside your apartment, humming happily as she placed a bag of groceries on the kitchen counter. She most likely hadn’t seen the pictures yet.

“Ale,” you called out, giving her a weak smile as she turned her head towards you.

“Hola, mi amor,” Alexia instantly furrowing her brows at the sight of you sitting on the couch. “Whats wrong?”

You hated how she could read you so well. “What makes you think something’s wrong?”

She flopped down on the couch next to you, wrapping her arm around your shoulders and bringing you into her side. You left out the biggest sigh and just handed her your phone, where the pictures of the two of you were still open.

You felt Alexia stiffen up and you closed your eyes, willing that this wasn't the end for you two. You knew just how much Alexia valued her privacy. 

It was silent for a minute or so, alexia tapping away on your phone. 

“Lo siento,” Alexia pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I already restricted the comments on your Instagram, you shouldn’t be dealing with all that. People can be a bit… much sometimes.”

Oh. You hadn't even thought to check your Instagram page. You were glad though, you couldn't imagine what vile things people were saying about you. It must be bad enough that that was where Alexia immediately thought to go.

“Is it that bad?” you voiced out, pulling back so you could see Alexia’s face. She looked surprisingly calm. “Babe, how are you so calm about this?”

“The comments on your posts are a lot, but I didn’t read them,” Alexia said simply. “It can be overwhelming, that's why I wanted to shield you from all of that. When you're ready you can just turn it back on.”

You smiled at how thoughtful she was. You really loved her. “You don't have to shield me from anything, Ale. I can handle a few nasty comments. You also haven’t answered my question.”

Alexia looked questioningly at you, grabbing at your arms to pull you closer again.

You settled nicely in her arms, your back pressing against her front as she laid down on the couch. “What question?”

“How you’re so calm about all of this.”

“Ah,” you can feel Alexia's chuckle and you turn around. You were now facing her again (your favorite thing to do—who would ever be tired of staring at Alexia’s face). You placed both of your hands on her face and ran your fingers through her jaw. “I’m anything but calm, bebita. You should feel my heart.”

“I can feel it.”

“Then you know I’m not calm.”

“You are the epitome of calm right now, baby,” you laughed, the nerves still shimmering across your entire body, whereas Alexia looked like it was just a regular Saturday for her.

Alexia took a deep breath and placed her hand on top of yours. “I’m scared. That is the truth. I’m really, really scared. But I know we will get through this. Together. As long as I have you and you have me, I think everything will be alright.”

You smiled at her, truly feeling how she meant her words. You pecked her lips and went back to snuggle into her, your head resting perfectly in the crook of her neck.

“I love you, Ale. You have me. Always.”

—

The next few weeks passed by in a blur. You finally got introduced to Alexia’s friends—Alexia brought you to Lucy and Ona’s housewarming party for their new place. Everyone loved you and you felt like you fit right in. It was great. You felt happy.

(You didn't let the thoughts of why it took a media outlet leaking your pictures for Alexia to bring you around to meet the people in her life, but you cast it aside.)

You met up with your friends and finally told them about Alexia. They were all wary, thinking it was too good to be true. A couple of snide remarks were thrown around about how Alexia could do better, even though your friends said it in a joking way, it still hurt.

But you managed by.

The next thing you knew you were being introduced to Eli and Alba.

It went fine, the most important people in your girlfriend's life seemed to like you, asking you questions about all sorts of things.

It wasn't until Alba casually mentioned how she was going to Mexico with some of her friends and how she would be staying with Jenni the whole week that you realized how closely intertwined Jenni was with Alexia’s life.

Your girlfriend's little sister lighting up as she mentioned all the places Jenni was planning on taking her to. You realized that Alba grew up with Jenni and she most likely saw Jenni as her big sister too; how devastated was she when Alexia and Jenni broke up and Jenni would never officially be a part of their family?

Going home that night, your mind was filled with how Alba and Eli were most likely comparing you to Jenni. Once again you were met with the question that seemed to always bother you: how were you supposed to compete with Jenni Hermoso?

—

The next thing you knew it was time for the World Cup. A very big deal for your girlfriend.

Especially since this was her first big tournament after suffering her injury.

You flew to support her, occasionally meeting with Alba and Eli for lunch (you knew you wouldn’t live up to Jenni, but you could try to make them like you better).

They hadn't given an indication that they disliked you, but just to be safe, you were willing to go the extra mile to make your girlfriend's family like you. You didn't have a decade-long history with them, but you could meet up with them to eat sushi even though you hated eating raw fish.

A small price to pay. Alba was really craving salmon sashimi.

At night, Alexia called you, telling you about her day. Mostly, you let her stay in the zone, you knew how important this was for her; you never called her first, letting her take the lead. You didn't want to be a distraction.

You two have talked about this before. You, scared that you'd be a distraction and Alexia looking at you as if that was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard. Alexia reassured you that you'd never be a distraction and nothing had to change.

You were nervous. You didn't know what being a wag entailed during a big tournament.

It went fine though and your best friends did told you that you were worrying for nothing.

(You still couldn't ignore the nagging feeling that Alexia was spending basically every waking moment with Jenni. But it was fine. Jenni was her teammate. They support each other in different ways.)

Alexia called you every night, some nights Alexia fell asleep with the call still connected and you were left to longingly stare at her, longing to be there next to your girlfriend.

Despite her reassurance that she wanted you to bother her, you didn’t want to seem like a needy girlfriend.

So you toned down your texts, looking at updates of your girlfriend through Instagram (it was a bit pathetic). When you tapped on the next Instagram story and it was a video of Alexia giggling with Jenni, you almost lost it. Almost.

They were friends. Best friends. Exes, yes, but their relationship went beyond that. You knew this. You’ve spent hours down the rabbit hole of reading their history on some blog. 

And once again you were left to wonder why Alexia chose you when she can be with her soulmate.

It was an endless cycle and you knew you couldn't go on like this. You had to talk to your girlfriend about your insecurities and just hope that she wasn’t going to think you were silly. 

For now though, you were ready to cheer her on as she took the biggest stage in her career.

All the best teams in the world were great, but Spain was better. Alexia was a superstar, like always.

So of course Spain won the World Cup, you had no doubt about it.

What you didn't expect was Alexia exchanging jerseys with Jenni out of all people. You bit your tongue, the cheers all around you didn't do much to drown the thumping of your heartbeat in your ears.

You loved your girlfriend, you were so proud of her. 

But as your sweet girlfriend celebrated on the pitch with her ex’s name on her chest, you never knew pain like this.

They were World Champions together. How could you even compete with that? It wasn't your name that Alexia was proudly showing off to the world. 

You and Alexia’s family were then escorted backstage. You waited, and waited, swallowing the bitter feeling in your chest. You were happy for Alexia, you really were. But was it necessary to trade jerseys with Jenni? 

Before you knew it, Alexia came barrelling towards you. J. HERMOSO visible across her chest.

You hugged her, whispered how proud of her you were, and when Alexia was whisked off for media duties, you prayed that she wouldn’t come to the same conclusion as you.

Alexia and Jenni had years of memories, years of going through the ups and downs of football together. Them winning the World Cup together just added another notable piece to their already intricate history.

Jenni Hermoso was a million times better than you, her winning the World Cup just sealed it even more.

—

You let Alexia celebrate with her teammates, desperately trying to ignore the sinking feeling in your chest as you waited for her in your hotel room.

She insisted you come along, but you declined, not wanting to rain on her parade.

When Alexia stumbled into your hotel room later into the night, you traded sweet nothings into each other’s ears as you let Alexia do whatever she wanted to you.

You felt loved, but you still couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in your chest that Alexia could love Jenni better.

—

Being back in Barcelona felt nice.

You were a million miles away from Jenni but still the feeling of insecurity lingered. You knew you had to talk to Alexia soon before it ate you alive.

You just didn't think that it’d blow up to an argument.

You went out with your friends for lunch, promising Alexia that you’d be back in time for your weekly movie nights.

When you entered your shared home you were met with Alexia lying horizontally on your couch.

She was laughing at the TV, too engrossed in whatever she was watching that she hadn’t noticed you coming in.

You went straight to the kitchen, rummaging around your fridge to look for something to do. You weren’t hungry after the lunch you had, but you just wanted to do something. Your hands were full of nerves, mostly due to the annoyance radiating off you.

You were annoyed at your friends and how they kept on making comments about you and Alexia. They didn’t mean any harm, but it got too much.

Before your thoughts wandered further, you felt a pair of arms snake around your waist.

“I didn’t hear you get in.”

You hummed, looking at the ingredients in front of you. Guess you were making some banana bread.

You could feel Alexia’s gaze on you as you basically ignored her. Alexia always knew when something was up with you.

“Is everything okay? Why are you baking?”

You shrugged, getting the necessary equipment from the cupboard.

“Y/N?”

“I just feel like baking,” you didn’t mean to sound curt. Alexia immediately loosened her grip on you, leaning against the counter as she searched for your eyes. 

“Okay… Well, do you want me to help?”

“Not really.” You knew you weren’t being fair—Alexia didn’t do anything wrong—but you had your reasons.

Your reasons were the comments your friends made that reinforced the thoughts you had been carrying around for months. You were insecure, disgruntled, and dejected all at once. 

You paused for a second before blurting out, “Why didn't you want anyone to know about us?”

Alexia froze. The conversation thrown around during lunch earlier kept echoing in your head.

“Was keeping it a secret Alexia’s idea?”

“Why though? Is she ashamed of you or something?”

“Is it true that she used to date Jenni Hermoso?”

“If I used to date Jenni Hermoso then I would never—well, I wouldn’t say downgrade, but…”

“Hey, that’s just mean! Alexia didn’t downgrade with Y/N!”

“You’re seriously picking Y/N over Jenni Hermoso? Y/N, you know I love you, but let’s be serious for a second.”

“Ale, are you embarrassed of me?”

“What?” Alexia was taken aback at your question, a bewildered look settling on her face. “I am not embarrassed of you. Where is this coming from?”

You scoffed. “Then why didn’t you want people to know about us? About me?”

Alexia was speechless for a second, not expecting that this was where the conversation was going. “Because my world can be harsh and I just want to protect you from it. I told you this, amor. We’ve had this conversation before.”

While that used to sound sweet, now it just irritated you.

“Yeah, but I can handle it.”

Alexia gave you a look that said she didn't believe you. You felt offended. Sure, you were an overly emotional person, but you were sure you could handle it. You were handling it. There were people who spewed out nasty comments about you on the internet everyday but you brushed them off—none of their opinions matter to you. 

Your girlfriend’s opinions matter to you.

“Glad to know you think so highly of me,” you sarcastically said, angrily slamming the bananas on the counter. This conversation was really getting on your nerves. You almost wished you didn't bring it up in the first place.

Alexia let out a sigh. “It’s not that I don’t have any faith in you. I just want to protect you. The last time I was in a relationship, it was with someone in the football field,” you hoped she didn’t notice how you immediately stiffen. “I didn’t have to worry so much because she knew how it was—”

You suddenly were so irritated at the reminder of Jenni that you snapped. “I know I’m not Jenni!”

Alexia was surprised at your sudden outburst.

“Qué? I know you are not her—”

“But you wish I was.” 

Alexia looked so taken aback at your accusation that you immediately felt guilty for ever saying it.

“…What?”

But it seems that despite the guilt you felt, the pent up anger inside you was overflowing, desperate to let itself out.

“Jenni is perfect, Jenni plays football, Jenni can handle the media, Jenni knows all your friends and family. Everyone likes Jenni better than me!”

“Amor, no! That’s— Where is this coming from?”

You almost wished you didn’t mention any of this in the first place with the way Alexia was looking at you like a blindsided, kicked puppy. 

You wanted to try to explain your side of things to her. You felt like your feelings about this whole thing were valid, albeit you could definitely handle it differently. Like, not bottling things up until they eventually blew up.

“You’re still good friends with your ex, Ale,” was all you could come up with.

“…Yes? We went through a lot together; she was a big part of my life.” At that you rolled your eyes. Obviously she was a big part of Alexia’s life. Weren’t all exes a big part of our lives at some point?

When you didn't say anything else and continued to prepare for your banana bread, Alexia continued, “It wasn't a bad breakup... We just decided that we were better off as friends.”

Honestly, you’ve had enough of hearing about Jenni.

“That’s exactly it, isn't it? You two went through a lot together, Ale. You won the freaking World Cup together and you went around parading her name on your chest while I was at the stands cheering you on despite having to see you with your ex’s name on all the fucking pictures of you and the trophy. And yeah she lives all the way in Mexico but you have international camps together while I'm at home, watching Instagram stories of you two, wondering why you're still giving me the time of the day when you could be with someone like her? For god’s sake Ale, she's hot! I get it! I do! And she’s 5’9 and I’m not—”

“Amor, stop,” Alexia interrupted your rambling, stepping closer to you but you didn't let her, shaking your head and taking a step away. “Y/N, I had no idea you felt that way—”

“It’s stupid. Forget it.” Embarrassment filled your cheeks.

“No, no, it’s not. It’s not stupid if you feel that way, my love. I’m so, so sorry that I didn't realize how this was making you feel.”

You sighed. It wasn’t Alexia’s fault, you knew that. You should've told her. It wasn't her fault because she didn't know.

You were now even more embarrassed that you let it turn into such a big deal.

So you took one last look at your girlfriend and ran out the door.

—

An hour into your aimless walk, you realized that you didn’t bring your phone with you, which meant you couldn’t Uber your way back home.

You realized that this meant you couldn’t call anyone to pick you up.

To make it worse, the sky started to rumble, signaling that the possibility of a heavy rain was coming sooner than you think.

Everything felt like a disaster.

You slumped down on a nearby bench. You knew where you were, you had no trouble getting home without Google maps. But it was an hour walk here, which meant it would be another hour walk home.

You groaned, thinking of the best way out of this predicament you put yourself in.

It was nearing midnight, but Barcelona had always been a lively place, so there were still plenty of passersby. You could ask to borrow someone’s phone, call Alexia, and wait until she picked you up.

But that would mean a random stranger would have Alexia’s number on their phone. You didn’t know if people would recognize you and put two and two together on who you were calling. You didn’t want to take that risk.

You could call one of your friends, but you didn’t remember any of their numbers.

The only number you knew by heart was Alexia’s. 

Placing your hands over your face, you took a deep breath and pushed back the stinging feeling behind your eyes. You couldn’t cry. You really wanted to because of how pathetic you were, but you couldn’t. You’d just feel even worse.

With every minute that passed by, you started to feel even more guilty at the thought of how worried Alexia must be.

Standing up, you decided you could just borrow someone’s Uber app, or even hail a taxi from somewhere. You decided that you had to go home right now. Alexia must be driving herself crazy when she realized you weren’t one call away.

Just when you were about to step into the direction of two friendly-looking strangers, the first droplet fell on top of your head.

“Fuck.”

Soon enough, the rain went down heavily. Everyone started running in all directions, trying to shield themselves from the pouring rain and you were left standing there, feeling sorry for yourself because great now you were stranded and drenched.

You sat back down and let the rain wash over you, finally letting out the sobs you were withholding.

You had a lot of thoughts in your head, but mostly, you just wanted Alexia. You wanted her right now. If you weren’t such a jealous girlfriend, you wouldn’t be in this situation. You wouldn’t be questioning her decade-long friendship with one of her best friends.

You wouldn’t—

“Amor!”

You whipped your head up and despite the water blocking your eyesight, you could always tell that it was your girlfriend’s figure running towards you.

You were a sobbing mess, sitting all alone in the rain in the middle of Barcelona, but still Alexia managed to find you. Alexia was drenched all over too, no umbrella in sight, as she kneeled down on the pavement and brought your crying face into her neck. 

Alexia pulled back and you could tell that she had been crying too. Great. You felt a million times worse now.

“What the hell are you doing?! You didn’t have your phone with you, I didn’t know where you were!” 

“I’m sorry,” you cried out, your voice barely audible due to the heavy patter of the rain. “I walked for a long time and I ended up here and it was an hour away and I didn’t have my phone, I couldn’t get back home without walking another hour and my feet are killing me and I feel so bad because you must be so worried and it’s all my fault! And now you’re here, I don’t know how you managed to find me but I’m so glad you’re here and oh my god—we’re both probably gonna be sick. I’m sorry! I love you, Ale, I’m so sorry!”

“Hey, hey,” Alexia cooed, placing her forehead against yours. “It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re okay. I love you too, please stop crying, mi amorcita. It’s okay.”

You took a deep breath, which didn’t end up helping because having water fall over your head made breathing a bit harder. 

Alexia placed a kiss on your forehead, standing up and pulling you against her.

You felt yourself sag against her, Alexia holding you upright. “Can we go home? I’m really cold.”

“Of course, mi vida. Let’s go home.”

—

Once you got into Alexia’s car, you started to cry again.

Mostly because it was warm and you were so relieved, but also because you felt bad that you were flooding her car with your wet clothes.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?”

Alexia placed her hands on your cheeks, wiping away your tears.

“I’m ruining your leather seats. Your car is ruined.”

Alexia let out a laugh. You looked at her like she was crazy. “Stop laughing at me,” you cried out. “Ale.”

“Oh, bebé,” Alexia tugged you across the console, wanting to pull you close once more. “I’m not laughing at you, I promise.”

“Then?”

“You’re too cute, you know? This will all dry up, amor. Besides, you’re not the only one whose clothes are wet. Look at me.”

You knew Alexia was trying to cheer you up, but at the reminder that the reason Alexia was soaked in the first place was because of you, you felt your bottom lip start to wobble.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “Now we’re both gonna freeze to death.”

Alexia simply placed a kiss on your cheek, putting the car in gear. “I won’t let you freeze to death.”

Looking out the window and seeing the familiar route home, you felt at peace even though you were still trembling from your wet clothing.

You didn’t know what state you would be in had Alexia not found you. 

“Ale.” 

She looked at you for a split second before redirecting her gaze on the road. “Hm?”

“How did you even find me?”

You saw the smirk before she could answer. “It’s called telepathy, amor.”

“Ale. I’m serious.”

“I’m serious too,” Alexia shrugged, a coy smile on her lips. “It’s our connection, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes at her antics. “Whatever. Idiota.”

Alexia laughed, her hand blindly searching for yours. You let her take your hand, the touch causing warmth to settle deep in your chest.

You didn’t let go of her hand all the way home.

—

After taking a warm shower, you laid on your side of the bed, waiting for Alexia to finish with hers.

(Alexia decided to shower in the guest bathroom, not wanting to invade your privacy in case you were still mad at her.)

(You quickly rebutted her statement and said that you weren’t ‘mad’ at her, just ‘annoyed’.)

Just when you were about to call out her name because Alexia was taking too long when she could shower in under five minutes, your girlfriend appeared, leaning against the doorway of your shared bedroom, a sheepish smile on her face.

“Can I still sleep with you or should I stay in the guest bedroom?”

You gestured for her to join you on the bed, relief falling on Alexia’s face as she approached you. 

Once you were both under the covers, Alexia immediately resumed her position as the big spoon. You placed your hand over hers that was draped across your stomach, feeling a wave of contentment wash over you.

“Can we talk about it?” Alexia whispered.

You didn’t want to. You were embarrassed. But you knew you had to. So you took a deep breath and let out everything you had been feeling for months—how you knew Alexia loved you, but oftentimes your thoughts took over and convinced you that Alexia couldn’t love you fully, not really. Especially knowing that she could have someone as perfect as Jenni.

“Y/N, I don’t want Jenni. I’m not in love with her anymore. You have to believe me.”

“But she’s… she’s perfect for you.”

“You’re perfect for me. It’s you I’m in love with. It’s you I love, Y/N.”

You turned around at the way Alexia’s voice was shaking, which was usually the tell-tale signs that she was about to cry.

And sure enough, Alexia had tears welling up in her eyes and that broke you. Your girlfriend was never one to cry often so the sight made you crumble and realize just how much she was telling the truth.

You reached out and wiped away her tears that managed to escape, placing a soft kiss on her nose. “Please don’t cry, Ale. I’m sorry—“

“Don’t apologize,” Alexia interjected. “You have nothing to apologize for, baby. I’m just sad because you can’t see how amazing you are. It pains me that you don’t see yourself the way I see you.”

“I guess I just can't wrap my head around the fact that you can have someone like Jenni, yet you’re choosing to be with someone like me.”

“Hey, don't be mean to my girlfriend,” Alexia turned serious, staring right into your eyes as she speak. “She’s perfect to me. She’s the only one I’ll ever want. Ever.”

You stayed quiet, taking in her words. You still didn't know what Alexia saw in you, but with the fierce stare full of determination she was wearing, you were starting to believe her. Believe that there were amazing qualities about you that made Alexia fall head over heels in love with you.

“You promise that you’ll love me even though I’m nowhere near as good as Jenni at football and I’m not as famous as her—Ale, I don’t have a World Cup trophy…”

“Y/N, my love, of course I do. I promise. I love you. I do, with all my heart.”

You took a deep breath and nodded. “I’m still going to have my insecurities. They’re not going away just like that.”

“I understand, amor,” Alexia placed her hands on your cheeks, caressing them gently, you could feel her love for you seeping from her fingers. “I’ll tell you everyday that you're all I’ll ever need until you believe me.”

You didn't have to be a footballer and you didn't have to go and win a World Cup, Alexia would still love you for who you were.

—

The opening game of the season fell on your birthday. You were seated at your usual seat with Alba and Eli. Eli had organized a small party after the game, she had baked you a birthday cake and wanted you to blow out the candles before your birthday dinner with Alexia.

When your girlfriend went out to the pitch, your jaw dropped. Instead of wearing her usual 11, she was wearing your birthdate on her back.

She easily spotted you in the stands, pointing at her back then pointing at you. This is for you, you could hear her message loud and clear.

You could cry right there and then. (You did cry).

Later Alexia uploaded her usual post-match Instagram post. The pictures of her wearing the jersey with your number made it extra special, especially the video she included of herself running over to you, lifting you up in her arms, and spinning you around—the happiness radiating from the two of you clearly visible.

The cherry on top was the caption underneath:

special numbers today in honour of my girl’s birthday. te amo mucho, amor @y/n 🥰❤️

All those fears of being not good enough, all those fears of Jenni replacing you, you now thought it was all so silly.

Because you knew without a doubt how much Alexia loved you.

“What are you daydreaming about?”

“Nothing,” you shrugged, a cheeky smile on your face. “Just thinking about how dumb you look with that birthday hat on.”

“Hey! This is all for you, amor!”

You laughed at her pout, the pointy birthday hat still sitting on top of her head. 

You were at one of the fanciest restaurants in Barcelona. Everyone was wearing a fancy dress—you were wearing one too, Alexia on the other hand was wearing a dapper three-piece suit.

You had a birthday hat in your clutch from Alba earlier and once you both had ordered, you took it out and gave it to your girlfriend. You jokingly asked her to wear it, not expecting her to do so.

But when she took it with a roll of her eyes, “anything to make you smile” falling off her lips and she ended up wearing the thing throughout your dinner, you had no more doubt that it was you Alexia wanted.

You didn't have any football silks, you weren’t a World Champion, you weren’t Jenni Hermoso.

But with every waking moment you spent with Alexia, you could feel how much she loved you despite it all.

Especially when Alexia got down on one knee and especially when you had a mini-you running around. You knew that there was nothing in this world that could change what you had with her.

(Not even Jenni Hermoso, who is now someone you call a best friend and the godmother to your daughter).

—

thanks for reading, let me know your thoughts!!🫶🏼

[benispunk]

Lucky Number

logan howlett x reader

Logan wants to know why 12 is Y/N's lucky number. He might be falling in love all over again.

TW: language

Masterlist

\I/

Y/n’s favorite time of the day was the evening. Not because she could finally relax, have some time for herself, enjoy the silence of her room without, most of the time, anyone in the mansion interrupting it… Well, maybe yes, it was that. But that’s not the point. 

Y/n’s favorite time of the day was the evening because she could finally spend time with Logan outside of the school’s routine, out of everyone's eye sights, just the two of them against the world.

And this evening wasn’t any different. She absolutely adored those moments with him as he looked and sounded so relaxed, and she felt as if she was falling more and more in love with him every single time.

She had bought a bottle wine and some appetizers that she had hidden in the kitchen all day, just for their special night, and Logan would do the same. Even though their relationship was official to everyone in the mansion, they always felt the need to sneak into each other’s rooms like teenagers in love.

One time, Logan was discreetly walking towards her door with two glasses in hand and his bottle of whiskey under his arm when he heard someone cough at the end of the corridor. He turned around, startled. Scott had been standing there, probably waiting to catch one of the two lovers and embarrass them. Logan stood there, saying nothing before flipping him off and entering Y/N’s room. 

She sat curled up on her bed, a glass of red wine in hand, as she lazily picked at a plate of cheese and crackers between sips. Logan sat next to her, leaning against the headboard, holding his own glass of whiskey, his eyes glinting with amusement. He could stay there for days, listening to her talk, laugh, watching her smile. Anything that had to do with her, he needed to be there. 

They had been playing a ridiculous card game for the last 20 minutes where you had to pick a number between one and twenty and then pick two cards, the closest to their number wins.

They were laughing again when Logan leaned forward with another challenge, his grin cocky. “Alright, one more time.”

Y/N smiled wide and quickly answered, “Twelve!”

Logan narrowed his eyes at her this time, his smirk softening into something more curious. “Again with twelve?” he asked, amused. “That’s the third time tonight you’ve picked twelve.”

Y/N blinked. “No, it’s not,” she said, a little too defensively, taking a bigger sip of wine. Maybe she should slow down with the drinking part.

Logan chuckled, the sound deep and warm. “Yeah, it is. You even won with that number.” He gave her a knowing look. “And now this. You pickin' twelve on purpose or somethin’? Are you cheating?”

She gasped at the accusation, « How dare you accuse me of such a crime? A girl can’t have a lucky number anymore. » She sipped some more wine dramatically, which made Logan laugh. How much she loved that sound.

Logan’s grin widened as he leaned in a bit closer, his curiosity getting the better of him. "Lucky number, huh? What makes twelve so special?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and swirling the whiskey in his glass.

Y/N felt her breath catch slightly, the warmth from the wine making her feel just a bit too relaxed. She hadn’t even realized she'd been picking twelve that much. It just... came out. It was her lucky number indeed. And now, Logan was asking about it. Oh no.

She gave a casual shrug, trying to play it off. "Oh, you know… twelve’s just... a good number. Balanced. You know, 1 plus 2 equals 3, and… uh, three’s cool."

Logan tilted his head, staring at her with an amused expression that said he wasn’t buying a word of it. « Then why not pick three? »

She could feel the heat rising to her face even more. He was too perceptive. She tried to shrug again, but it came off awkward. « I—I don’t know! Twelve just feels… lucky, I guess."

But Logan wasn’t letting it go. Of coure, he wasn’t. He leaned in even closer, his voice a low tease. "You’re hiding something." His tone was playful, but his eyes held a tenderness that made her feel even more flustered. "Why twelve, darlin’?"

Y/N's heart raced as she realized there was no escaping the truth. She hadn’t even thought about it consciously until now, but of course, twelve was special. It was his birthday— October 12. And the more she thought about it, the more it embarrassed her. It felt too sweet, too sentimental to admit out loud, but Logan's gaze was gentle, and she knew he wouldn't let up until she told him.

She cleared her throat and bit her lip, looking anywhere but at him. "It's... It’s your birthday. » she finally mumbled, barely above a whisper, still trying to avoid his eyes. "October 12. That’s why it’s... my lucky number."

There was a pause— a silence that stretched just long enough for her to regret saying it, but when she glance up at Logan, she saw something different in his expression. His face softened, his eyes widening just a bit before something warm and quiet settled in them. For a second, he seemed speechless, which rarely happened with Logan.

« My birthday?" he asked, his voice softer than before, as if he couldn’t quite believe it.

Y/N nodded, feeling vulnerable and a little embarrassed. « Yes. I’m sorry this is so embarrass— » 

“Put your glass down,” he said firmly, cutting her off mid-sentence.

“What?” she asked, confusion clouding her expression.

Without missing a beat, Logan took her glass from her hand and placed it gently on the nightstand beside his own. Just as she opened her mouth to protest, he closed the distance between them, capturing her lips in a tender kiss.

Time seemed to pause as they melted into each other, the warmth of the moment enveloping them. Every worry, every ounce of embarrassment faded away as Y/N felt herself sink deeper into the kiss, the intoxicating taste of whiskey on his lips mixing with the sweetness of the wine on hers.

Her lucky number was his birthday. How fucking wonderful. What did he even do to deserve that? To deserve her. His grip on her tightened slightly, pulling her closer as if he wanted to fuse their bodies together, to ensure that nothing could ever come between them. How lucky he was.

When they finally broke away, he held her gaze with a softness that made her heart race. 

“I love you so much,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

The moment hung between them. Y/N could see the sincerity in his gaze, the way he was allowing himself to be vulnerable. Her heart ached with love. But he wasn’t done.

His hand cradled her face, his thumb brushing lightly against her cheek. “You keep doin’ this—showin’ me how much I mean to you… » He paused, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, « I’m falling for you all over again,” he confessed, his voice low and raw. 

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up, a smile breaking through her earlier embarrassment. « See why twelve’s my lucky number? »

Logan laughed softly, a glint of mischief in his eyes, before he suddenly lunged forward, pinning her down onto the bed. Y/N squealed in surprise, laughter bubbling up as he captured her lips in a quick kiss. The warmth of his body over hers ignited sparks of electricity that left her breathless.

As they broke apart, he held her gaze, his eyes gleaming with adoration. The warmth between them crackled with unspoken affection, and Y/N felt her heart swell. If he was her lucky charm, she was his too.

With a gentle tug, he pulled her closer, their foreheads touching as they breathed each other in. Logan leaned in for another kiss, this one deeper and more lingering, their lips brushing together softly. The moment was pure magic. 

Y/N felt happiness enveloping her, knowing that luck wasn’t just about numbers; it was about sharing her life with him.

XXX

[janeyseymour]

I Wouldn't Tell Anyone

based off of that tiktok trend: "i wouldn't tell anyone i won the lottery, but there'd be signs".

WC: ~2.75k

Melissa Schemmenti has worked at Willard R. Abbott Elementary School for years. And in those years, the one constant in her life has been Barbara Howard. The two had started the same year, and while many things have changed, their friendship would never. No, Melissa had watched as Barbara married Gerald, witnessed the woman’s growing belly as she carried both of her daughters, had seen the ups and downs in the Howard family. And likewise, Barbara had been there to see the marriage to Joe, the divorce of Joe, the lean years… and everything in between. They’ve seen the way that teachers come and go, children grow up before their very eyes, and at this point they’ve taught children of students that they had in the starting years. Teaching practices have grown and changed- it’s really an ever-evolving world that they live in.

The second grade teacher had a solid wardrobe that she kept in rotation over the years- really just a few blazers, her signature leather jacket, the same shirt in various colors, a few pairs of slacks and jeans, and of course her heeled boots that she wore everyday without fail.

“Melissa,” Barbara had asked one day. “Perhaps you and I should hit the mall? I know some great places that have wonderful clearance sections.”

“Are you tellin’ me I need to change out my wardrobe?” the redhead teased as she threw her bag over her shoulder.

“You know that is not what I am saying, woman,” Barb rolled her eyes. “But I see the way that your shirts are starting to wear thin. I also need an outfit for the end of the year banquet that this damned superintendent is forcing me to go to.”

“When you’re part of a committee, you have to go to that kind of stuff,” the second grade teacher had smirked. “Why you think I ain’t a part of all that?”

Even after the two of them hit it off, going to the mall whenever they found themselves with enough money to spare to treat themselves to a shopping spree, Melissa’s outfits still mostly circulate without fail. 

Years pass, and then she meets you one night while she’s out at the bar. She walks in, and you’re captivated. You don’t know what draws you to her, but whatever it is is magical. Your eyes hardly leave her stunning figure as she dances. You know that by the end of the night, you have to at least attempt to make a move on her.

And you do when she decides to take a break from dancing to come over to the bar. Conveniently, the only opening is by where you’re sitting and nursing a margarita.

By some grace of God, she’s been watching you too- trying to figure out how to start a conversation with you over the loud music and people dancing all around you.

She saunters up to the spot that you’re at and smiles at you. Wow… her smile is radiant.

“How come a pretty girl like you ain’t out there dancing with someone?”

“Just came here after a hard day at work,” you shrug. “Wanted a marg, thought maybe the music and drinks would brighten my spirit.”

“Well, you got the marg,” she gestures to your half empty glass. “Why don’t I buy you another, and then we can listen to the music together?”

“I’m sure you have friends here that wouldn’t want me crashing.”

“I’m here alone,” the redhead reveals. “The name’s Melissa. And you are?”

“Y/N,” you tell her.

“Well, Y/N, why don’t you let me buy you a drink, and we can be alone… together.”

You end up getting her number as you part ways for the night, and simply text her when you get home that night, time and place.

She’s just walked into her own house when your text comes through. How does Renata’s Kitchen at 5:30 on Tuesday sound?

I have to wait tomorrow and Monday to see you?

I mean, I could grab a coffee tomorrow after church if you’d rather that, the redheaded beauty sends.

You send her the address of your favorite coffee place, which just so happens to be hers as well. You wonder if the two of you have ever run into each other and just not known it at the time.

The outing for coffee ends up being an entire day’s worth of just walking around the city together as you chat about life. You find out that she’s a second grade teacher at one of the local schools and that she has Sunday dinners with her family every week (that is actually the only reason she has to regretfully leave you that day) among many other things. She finds out that you work for one of the local law firms down the street from Abbott, ironically enough. How have the two of you never bumped into each other, or at least seen each other? You get to your place of work at the same time as she does, you’ve both gone down to the same Wawa at the same time for lunch because your lunch hours coincide, and she quite literally walks past your firm to get to happy hour specials with her coworkers.

Once she leaves you to head to her family dinner, she texts you to let you know that she would still love to do dinner with you on Tuesday. You excitedly reply that you would be absolutely delighted. 

The two of you have been going out for quite some time now, and it’s quite funny that you’ve both kept it on the down low. You’re a bit concerned that while courtrooms have progressed with society that if your relationship were to become public, it could get in the way of cases. And she, similarly is nervous that she could face backlash at the school she works for for being in a homosexual relationship. So, neither of you have said anything to your coworkers. And it’s all going swimmingly. While you had both just stumbled upon each other one night at the bar, not expecting to find each other, here you are two years later as a happy couple.

You land the case of a lifetime, one where you could make a decent profit off of your already relatively high paying salary. On top of that, you know that you’re about to be promoted after working with this firm for the last five years.

You end up winning the case, bringing in some good money, and then you’re moving up the ladder and finding yourself with more cash outflow than you know what to do with at the moment. It’s too much for you, living in a small apartment in the city by yourself with nothing else to worry about. So, when your girlfriend comes over to your apartment for dinner, you propose something.

“Mel?” you ask as she stands at your stovetop. She hums to let you know that she’s listening, but her eyes stay trained on the vegetables that she’s chopping right now. “How would you feel if we moved in together?”

The sound of the knife hitting the cutting board halts, and she turns to face you. “What?”

“We’ve been together for almost two years,” you tell her. “I just got that nice promotion, plus a huge payout from the settlement with DuBoise, so… I was thinking maybe we could move in together? Find a nice townhouse somewhere in the city and settle into our lives together?”

About a million emotions flicker through the redhead’s face before it settles on a smile. “I think that might be a good idea.”

So, after months of looking, you both say goodbye to your small apartments and are able to move into a beautiful townhouse in Queen Village. When Melissa files the paperwork to change her address for paychecks, Ava comes flying into the staff lounge with her eyes nearly bulging out of her head.

“Uh, ahem,” the principal coughs out and raises her brows, waving the paperwork in front of the second grade teacher during lunch.

“What?” your girlfriend grumbles as she grades a few papers and shoves a forkful of her salad into her mouth.

“Since when did you move?”

“A couple of weeks ago,” Melissa shrugs.

Barbara’s brows furrow. She wasn’t aware her friend was moving house. “Oh, Melissa. Could you not afford the place anymore?”

“Girl, she upgraded big time! Went from living in the slums to a three bedroom townhouse in Queen Village!”

“Queen Village?” the kindergarten teacher repeats.

Again, the redhead just shrugs.

“Melissa, how did you manage that? I know what you make, and there is no way you could afford to live somewhere like that!” Janine cuts in.

“Can it, pipsqueak,” Melissa rolls her eyes. “Let’s just say… I have my ways.”

Nobody is brave enough to ask the mob-like woman what the hell that could even mean.

“Well, when do we get to see the place?” Jacob tries to invite himself over.

Green eyes glare over at the man. “If I can help it, never.”

“Oh c’mon, Mel Mel,” Jacobs whines out. “I lived with you at one point! Why can’t we come see your new place?”

“At the time, I did not know it was you,” the redhead huffs. “And then you moved out on me.”

“Because I found 

The second grade teacher blows out a breath. “Maybe once I have it all furnished and put together.”

So, once the two of you have the place put together for the most part, the Abbott clan makes their way over while you’re out of town for a convention that you were forced to go to.

To say that the crew is beyond impressed is an understatement.

“Melissa, this is beautiful,” Barbara compliments.

“How? How?” is all Jacob and Janine can stutter out.

The redhead just smirks. “I know a guy.”

They leave not knowing that the guy that she knows is you- her girlfriend of almost two and a half years at this point. And because it’s you, and you have an unwavering love for Melissa, the house is impeccable and everything she could ever want it to. You take good care of her.

Since moving in together, Melissa’s meals have only become more extravagant. With both of your finances almost entirely combined at this point, you spoil her with the best foods and ingredients that you can get her at any moment. So when she comes into the staff room with way fancier dishes for her lunch, it raises a few eyebrows. The teachers have seen Melissa stretch a dollar like a big headed baby stretches a… the redhead smirks.

“I know a guy,” is all she offers up.

The eyebrows of her coworkers only creep further up her head when she comes in with leftovers from one of the nicest restaurants in the city- a place known nationally for the delicate dishes and absolutely delectable desserts.

She’s eating the extra slice of cheesecake the two of you had brought home when Janine leans over. “How’d you get that?”

“I know a guy.”

“You sure seem to know a lot of guys.”

They have no idea that there are not multiple people- you are almost singlehandedly responsible for the lavish lifestyle that your girlfriend suddenly leads. 

Somehow, Melissa is forced to go to one of the banquet dinners that the district is holding because she’s hit a milestone in her teaching, and they’re highlighting her. So, of course Barb offers to go with her to try to find something nice to wear to the dinner that she too will be attending.

“Oh, I think I actually have an outfit,” the redhead refutes the offer. “But thank you.”

“Girl, you never turn down an opportunity to go out shopping,” the kindergarten teacher raises a brow.

“I just… know a guy that already bought me an outfit.”

Melissa shows up to the event looking like a million bucks, and Barbara almost can’t believe it. The redhead’s hair is curled to perfection, the dress that she’s in has clearly been tailored to accentuate all of her curves and to be the proper length. The shoes that she’s wearing are not the black heeled boots Barbara is so used to seeing her work wife wear- no, instead she’s got on a pair of heels that have to be at least two hundred dollars if the kindergarten teacher had to guess. 

Of course, their picture gets snapped and is posted to the school website a few days later. 

At lunch, while Janine is eating and on her laptop, her eyes go wide. “Melissa!”

“What?”

“You looked beautiful the other night!”

“Thanks, kid.”

“How did you get all of that?”

“I know a guy.”

Jacob moves his chair so he too can get a look.

“Melissa, that is…” he thinks to himself quietly. “At least a six hundred dollar look! For a school event? Girl, where are you getting all of this stuff?!”

“I told youse, I know a guy.”

It’s a weekend when the Abbott crew decides to get together, and they all have plans to go to Barbara’s house for game night, but Gerald gets sick and they can no longer use the Howard residence.

“Well, I guess we should cancel,” Melissa sighs as they’re all leaving the school that day.

“What if we just came to your place?” the kindergarten teacher asks. “It’s the only other space big enough to accommodate us all.”

Begrudgingly, the second grade teacher agrees. As everyone is on their way over, she calls you.

“Hello?”

“Hey hun,” she says softly. “So… change in plans for tonight.”

“Oh? Do I get you all to myself tonight?”

“Not exactly…” the redhead trails off. “We’re moving game night to our house.”

“Oh,” you say softly, your face dropping as you thumb through papers in your office.

“Yeah,” she hums.

“I mean, I guess I can go out to dinner with my mom or something to pass the-”

“What if we just… came out? At least just to the crew,” your girlfriend suggests quietly.

You mull that option over for a few seconds. “Y-yeah. If you’re ready for that.”

“I am if you are.”

“I can pick up dinner,” you tell her. “I should be out of here by 5:30, and then I can head over to grab some food before coming home.”

“There’s…” she counts in her head. “eight of us.”

“Eight?”

“Somehow Mr. J wormed himself into this get together,” Melissa laughs softly. “Something about getting the band back together- whatever the hell that means. 

Once you’re free from work, you head over to one of the nicer restaurants in the city, and because you and Melissa have become frequent flyers there, they’re able to oblige your request for a few trays of food. You leave a generous tip before packing the food into your car and making your way back to your townhouse. 

Upon pulling in, you take a few deep breaths before gathering your briefcase and the food and making your way to the door.

When you push it open, all eyes are on you.

“Hey,” you sigh as you kick off your shoes and head for the kitchen table to put down all the food.

“Melissa, you didn’t tell us you have a roommate, never mind a hot one!” Ava grins.

The redhead just rolls her eyes before glaring. That glare is gone though once you make your way back into the living room and sit down next to your girlfriend.

“Hey babe,” you smile at her before kissing her cheek softly.

“Babe?” Barbara’s eyes go wide. “Melissa Ann, do you have a girlfriend?”

The redhead just smirks. “Oh, did I not mention that I am happily in a relationship and have been for two and a half years?”

“Wait a minute,” Mr. Johnson furrows his brows and looks you over. “Ain’t you one of those fancy lawyers that works at the firm down the street from Abbott?”

You nod. “Hi. I’m Y/N.” You cordially shake everybody’s hand with a kind smile.

“Wait,” Janine pieces it all together. “Is this why you moved and could afford this place? Why your meals have gotten a lot fancier, and how you could afford the clothes you wore to the dinner the other night?”

Melissa just nods. “I guess you could say… I won the lottery with this one.”

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld

[mydearlybeloathed]

𝐈 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ³

𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞, 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞...

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a ghost from your past makes a surprise appearance, dragging forth all the regrets and wishes you'd spent years trying to drown. and yet, some strange string of Fate keeps you and the future king of the pirates intertwined, for better or for worse.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: opla!luffy x gn!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨��𝐧𝐭: 3.6k

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: use of Y/N, gn reader, ANGST, alcohol, an existential crisis probably

𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬: the 1 (long pond), i want to live, son of nyx

series masterlist

If someone asked you how many years you’d been a marine, your answer would be uhm, well, less than ten, because the actual number was lost to you. But you knew it’d been less than ten. Being with the marines for more than a decade was a thought that shot nausea straight to your gut.

However long it’d been, things had reached a comfortable norm. You rarely saw Koby those days. Back when you were stationed on the same ship, you and he had grown close, finding something familiar in the soul of the other. Now Koby was a captain, you were just under him in rank as a commander, and the two of you were under different commands. 

You rarely noticed when a day passed anymore. It was all a numbing cycle of chores, reports, and arrests—repeat. Your cohorts had taken to a game they called Make-Y/N-Crack, in which they did everything in their power to draw any sort of reaction from you.

No one had won so far, your deadpan too seeped into your whole being that you’d near forgotten how to smile.

Your main indicator of a passage of time was the wear and tear of Luffy’s wanted poster, one of his very first, and certainly not his last. It was faded in some places and torn in a corner, but you held it close to you wherever you went, including the island your ship was stopped at for supplies. 

Given that the ship would be there for a few days, you and your fellows had one night to yourselves to roam the town and do as you pleased. 

“Commander—”

“We’re off duty, Nia. Call me my name,” you said evenly, cutting off the soldier girl. Nia burned bright red, mouth snapping shut. You sighed. “What do you need?”

“Well, I was just wondering why you’re going that way?” she asked, jutting her chin at the side street you’d been headed toward when she called you back. Behind Nia, a rowdy crowd of fellow marines waited for their friend to join, each casting you a contemplative kind of glower. “We’re all headed to the bar, if you wanted to come?”

They all hated you, for reasons you didn't bother to fathom. All except Nia, who was possibly too gentle to be a commissioned marine, in your opinion. “I’m fine. I know where I’m going.”

She nodded once and turned tail, jogging after her friends who nudged her shoulder with a tease you didn’t catch. You stood for a moment and watched them go; you watched their easy smiles and close camaraderie, and you missed that.

Koby flourished in this line of work, setting out everyday to make this world better. You felt you should be doing the same—that you were doing the same—but it all felt so useless. So mundane. Worthless.

You had yet to cross paths with the pirate Monkey D. Luffy. It hadn't yet been a decade, but what if ten years did pass? What then? Would you continue as you are, mindlessly walking a path you’d carved for yourself?

“I need a drink,” you muttered, turning back down the dimly lit street. 

You were somewhat familiar with the town, having been here once before around a year ago. Koby had been with you then, that being one of your last weeks together before he was promoted and moved to a different ship.

It was your intention to find the cozy tavern once again to maybe mull over some of your less-bitter memories. That thought had you running a hand over your face. What’s become of me?

Sometimes you forgot why you’d joined the marines, and then the poster tucked into the pocket of your coat burned with the reminder. Other times, you wondered why you stayed after all this time (you hadn't found a decent answer for that yet).

You found it was easier to get drunk than to wonder where your decisions had led you.

The moment you stepped into the tavern a wave of warm air hit you, along with the odor of sweat, alcohol, and bread. Not the most pleasing combination, but you trudged inside and beelined for the bar anyway. 

The bartender shot you a tight grin, stress lining her forehead. “What can I get ya?”

“Surprise me,” you muttered, setting some money down on the counter. She swiped it up and made to fetch a drink, but her eyes found your messy uniform first. She hesitated, glancing up at you, before warily continuing on her way.

You threw your head into your hands, heaving a sigh. You really should have changed before leaving the ship. Being a marine didn’t make you popular with a great many people. You liked it when town’s smiled at you even when they saw your uniform, but those occurrences were growing fewer and farther between.

If only you had Koby’s optimism. If only you had the guts to stand up. If only you’d gone with Luffy. If only, if only, if only…

He’d probably forgotten all about you, moved on with the sea in his hair and light in his eyes. 

“Here you go.” The bartender placed a drink to your right. You cast it a glance and pulled it closer, peering into the dark liquid. “Strong stuff. Ya look like you need it.”

You nodded through a huffy laugh. “Thanks, miss.”

After cracking your neck you tipped back your drink, grimacing at the sting and just plain awful taste. She chuckled as she walked away. “Told you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumbled into the cup, taking another swig and slamming it back down with a cough.

A figure plopped into the seat beside you, the ruffling of their coat meeting your ears. They let free a hefty sigh, and you swore you felt their exhaustion just radiating off their skin. 

“Brandy, if you please.”

You choked into your cup, this time not from the rancid burn. Stiff as a board, you stared daggers into the bar, hands tight around the cup. The bartender handed over a glass to the person beside you.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” That voice was gruff with a sly tilt to it. You knew that voice.

You didn’t want to turn, but you did anyway, wide eyes landing on the profile of a one armed, red haired pirate you thought for certain you’d never see again.

Shanks swirled around his liquor before taking a drink, slamming the cup back down a moment later. Really, you should have fled the site and gone to spend a miserable night with the other marines. But your whole body was seized up, eyes locked on Luffy’s idol.

“I—” you squeaked, cupping a hand over your mouth an instant later as Shanks cast you a side eye.

Immediately, he was curious, wondering why exactly this kid looked so familiar. He turned his head, disturbed by how you stared at him like you’d seen a ghost. scrutinizing your face, it hit him like a punch to the gut; in his mind’s eye he shrank you down a few feet, gave you a set of buck teeth, and placed you next to a little curly headed boy.

“Y/N?” He laughed. “What—You’re so big!”

Though he smiled, you couldn’t help but picture his face in a wanted poster. Your uniform felt all too hot and heavy all of a sudden. “Uh…”

“What’re you doing here, kid?” He clapped you on the shoulder and nearly knocked the breath out of you. “Where’s Luffy? I never thought I’d see one without the other.”

You hated to spoil his excitement at the prospect of seeing the boy, so you avoided the question altogether. “I’m here for work.”

He saw right through you, his smile losing some of its genuineness. “And Luffy?” You turned and tipped back the last of your drink, and Shanks finally noticed your attire, particularly the familiar emblem. “Shit—the Marines? Really?”

Annoyance crept up your mind. You held your cup in both hands, gaze hung. “Commander Y/N, at your service.”

“Commander… wow.” He shifted to completely face you, a grin working up his face. “That’s amazing.”

You had expected a shout, maybe the retrieval of his pistol. Not whatever that was. You faced him warily, catching pride flashing in his eyes. “You’re not angry…”

“Why would I be?” He waved for the bartender to bring him another drink, motioning two fingers at her. “You’re successful. Always knew you would be, Worm.”

A childish part of you fluttered at the mention of that old nickname. Bookworm. Hah. You hardly read these days, always too busy. The bartender put down two shot glasses and swept away. “But… My job is to catch pirates like you.”

He scoffed, nudging your glass toward you. “No offense, Commander Bookworm, but you’re not catching me anytime soon.”

“I wasn't going to try. Just saying.” You picked up the glass and watched him reach to clink his to yours. Letting slide a scant smirk, you accepted the cheers and shot back the liquid in sync with Shanks. 

You nearly gagged again as you set the glass back down, laughing. “God, I hate liquor.”

Shanks nudged you as he called for yet another drink. “Can’t say the same.” The conversation fell short, and Shanks cast you a glance as you fiddled with the fabric of your coat. “Mind if I ask how you got here? I mean, I figured for sure you’d be with Luffy. You’ve seen his poster, right?”

“Of course,” you snapped back, your hand passing over your pocket. “I, uhm… A while back, Luffy escaped…”

His eyes held a misty sadness. “And you didn’t.”

You found yourself shaking your head, hands closing into fists. “I chose to stay behind.”

Shanks waited for you to elaborate, blinking blankly. And when you didn’t— “Why the fuck would you do that?”

“Excuse me,” you startled.

“Why the fuck,” he enunciated incredulously, “would you stay behind? He’s gotta be beside himself.”

Straightening up, you narrowed your eyes at him. “Even if he was, it’s been years, Red Hair. He’s gotten over it—”

“Have you?” The question was instantaneous, no hesitation behind the dagger-like words.

“What?”

“Gotten over it. I doubt you have.”

You gaped at him. “You know nothing about me. Don’t think you’ve got me all figured out just because you ruined my life by giving Luffy all those stupid dreams—” You choked, huffed, and attempted to make a quick escape.

Shanks’ hand found your shoulder, gentle yet firm, and you plopped back onto your seat, eyes closed tight. “Let me go.”

“I’m sorry,” he said slowly. “Okay? I’ll back off.”

Without asking or saying anything at all, the bartender set another glass of that awful drink in front of you. You took a sip, shaking his hand off and taking a moment to breathe. “It was for the best, all right? I would only hold him back. Look how far he’s come. He couldn’t have done that with me lagging after him.”

“Why would you be lagging?” When you didn’t answer, only turning your face away, he nudged you with his shoulder. “Worm?”

That name made it hard to take anything seriously, but somehow, you managed, hissing out a sigh through your teeth. “It’s much easier to read about other people being brave.” Chewing your lip, “I like to read about heroes, mostly to remind myself why I’m not one.”

“You’re a marine. Surely sometimes you’re a hero.”

“Sometimes.” Throwing caution to the wind, you drank your whole glass in one swig, letting the alcohol simmer through your blood and turn your mind hazy. 

“What did you mean,” he asked. “When you said I ruined your life?”

“Oh. It’s nothing.”

“Tell me.”

You tried to slide off the stool again. “Goodbye, Shanks.”

He didn’t stop you this time, only shifting to watch you slowly trudge away. Shanks scoffed. “C’mon, Worm. What’re you so afraid of?”

Lots of things. You were afraid of spiders and falling, though not of heights themselves, and you quite liked the daddy-long-legs. You were afraid of losing, of failing, of being wrong. Of seeing Luffy again and having him be completely disappointed with what he saw. An all consuming fear that you can’t change what you are, that you’re too far down this road to ever think of turning back.

You hardly realized you’d stopped walking until Shanks was at your side, moving to catch your distracted gaze. “Kid?”

You swallowed thickly. “I was always content with my fate. Luffy wasn’t, and a lot of that has to do with you. The rest was his own passion.” That incessant burn resurfaced in your throat. “So I stayed because I wasn’t about to drag him down with me. He’s too good. I…”

Dammit. You’d been doing so well. You hadn’t cried in months. Trying to glare, you spat, “Goodbye.”

You made to walk past him and actually leave the building this time, but he caught your wrist. Whirling around, your curses were cut off by a quick and dangerous offer: “Come join my crew.”

Shanks was so sincere, nearly hopeful as he stared into your eyes. You wondered if this is how your father would look at you if he knew how to be kind.

Barely breathing, you shoved every word and every notion down to the pits of your mind, retracting your arm to wrap it around yourself. A singular tear fled your eye and was wiped away in an instant. Shaking your head, you backed away from him, trying not to stumble, and bolted out of the tavern. 

The worst of it was Shanks’ sad sigh you caught as you fled, like he’d expected this, like he was wondering why he bothered to ask.

Later, you found Nia and the others waltzing back up to the ship. Your face was dry and your expression a void, and Nia smiled as she raced toward you. 

“Commander!” She skidded to a stop, backtracking, “Sorry. Y/N.”

“What is it?” you said a little too harshly.

She wasn’t perturbed, grinning up at you. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

Your heart held this odd numbness you had come to equate with acceptance. Luffy’s poster burned like hellfire in your pocket. “I think so.”

Nia invited you to join the rest of them in the ship’s galley, promising good conversation and cheap wine smuggled on board. You told her you’d think about it, and she chased her friends up the gangway and onto the ship. 

The sea licked at the wood of the docks and the wind bit at your skin. And you stood solemnly, watching that crumpled wanted poster become saturated by murky water till it sank out of view.

You regretted it instantly, a recurring theme for you, apparently. 

How easy would it be to walk away from the marine vessel and find Shanks again? How simple would it be it to ditch this marine’s coat and set off on your own? Your hands started to tremble at the very notion. Not easy and not simple at all. 

Casting a glance up at the starry sky, you bit back a sob, and you made a wish on the first star you laid eyes on. Please, please don’t hate me.

Stiffening, you set your jaw and cursed yourself. You had to get a hold of yourself. Being a marine was hell for you, but you’d been doing it for years. Seeing a ghost from your past and having him give you a chance shouldn’t be so crushing. Honestly, you should be cursing Shanks for giving you an offer you didn’t deserve. This was all his fault, all Luffy’s fault—

And you broke, breath seizing as a silent cry fled your lips. 

You loved him—of course you still loved him. You would until you died, you think. And that was the problem. With your arms wrapped around yourself, you thought back to the day everything changed.

Luffy’s little broken boat, disappearing on the horizon, Vice Admiral Garp leering at your shoulder. Your first moments entrapped by fear. You’d been proud of that day, once upon a time. Now you weren’t so sure.

Was there any room to turn back, with years of running from your past behind you?

“Oh, Luffy. What have I done?”

A cord in your heartstrings snapped, and your feet scrambled away from the marine vessel. A gasp ripped from your chest, eyes aflame, and your fists tightened desperately around this bout of courage.

Back down the road, back to the little tavern, you burst through the double doors, certain you looked insane as your eyes sweeped the dim room. The bartender’s eyes snapped up from where she was cleaning the many glasses you and Shanks had left behind. A fistfull of beri had been left in his wake.

“Keep going left,” said the bartender. “You might catch him.”

A thank you slipped past your lips as you raced outside, raising your hands in two L’s to pinpoint the right direction, taking off down the street that faded from cobblestone to dirt under your footfalls. 

Over twigs and leaves, under trees that grew thick further down the path, your heart thundered against your ribcage. The sloping road grew thin before it gave way to a secluded beach lit only by the moon. Your chest heaved as sand kicked up behind you.

“Wait!” you cried. “Shanks! Wait, please! I'll go with you! Shanks…”

A little lantern illuminated the dingy too far away to hear you as it rowed closer to the ship anchored out in the bay. A whisper of his name fell off your tongue, throat suddenly dry and stomach sick.

You hit your knees, fists grabbing at grains of sand that slipped through your fingertips. “Come back. Please…”

For the second time in your life, you watched a ship sail away carrying with it the chance of freedom, leaving you on the sand empty and helpless.

જ⁀➴

Luffy rarely dreamed when he slept. When he did dream, he never remembered it, the wild scenes fading seconds after he woke. 

Which is why he startled awake, hands clawing at his hammock, straw hat falling off his face and into his lap. He clung to the sound of your laughter, of your touch grazing his cheek, of the feel of your skin under his hands—

He didn’t dream often, but when he did, he often dreamt of you. 

He rubbed at his sleep crusted eyes and ached for the quickly fading memory. The finer details of the plot were soon lost on him, but he knew in this dream you were happy. Luffy liked those dreams much more than the more common ones where you cried, too far out of his reach to comfort.

“Luffy?” spoke Chopper, his voice hazy with sleep as he yawned. “Are you okay?”

“Huh?” Confused, Luffy realized he was gasping for air. “O–Oh, I’m fine, Chopper.” He glanced down from his hammock to offer the reindeer a trembling smile. “I’m good, really.”

Not buying it, Chopper huffed and stood from his own hammock, making quick work of climbing up to Luffy’s. He sat across from his captain, worry all over his furry face. “Did you have a bad dream?”

“Nah, don’t worry ‘bout it.” He reached over to ruffle the tuft of fur between Chopper’s antlers. “Sorry for waking you.”

He smiled softly. “It’s okay.” Chopper started to snuggle into the fabric of the hammock, obviously having no intention of climbing back down. “I was having a bad dream too.”

Luffy leaned back, doing his best to calm his nerves enough to go back to sleep. “Yeah?”

“Mhmm. Nami was angry at me. It wasn’t fun.”

The captain laughed, promptly shut up by a voice from the hammock underneath. “Shut up, would ya?”

Chopper squeaked, “Sorry, Zoro.”

The swordsman sighed and rustled in his hammock. “It's fine. Go to bed.”

Soon Zoro’s snores filled the mens’ quarters, and Chopper’s calm breathing soon followed. Sanji and Usopp snored in tandem as well, till only Luffy remained awake, staring at the ceiling, trying desperately to recall his dream.

You couldn’t be happy, wherever you were. How long had it been? Far too long, though he wasn’t sure exactly how much time had passed since he last saw you on the beach of Foosha Village. 

Would he recognize you? Would you recognize him? Luffy had to hope the answer was yes, and he had to hope one day he’d have the chance to rescue you, to set you free just as you freed him.

“I’ll find you,” he threatened the silence. “You can’t hide forever.”

Miles and miles away, kneeling on the sand, you swore you heard a familiar voice in the wind, but it couldn’t have been. You were halfway near drunk. That must've been it.

Luffy turned his head to look out the window of the cabin, and you tilted your chin to stare at the stars. The stars twinkled down on the both of you, promises and threats hung on the wind and sea that separated you. 

Some endings are always meant for tragedy. Some loves are meant for doom. It was how Fate worked. 

But Fate favored you and Luffy—forever working to save the other, forever aching for the day that would bring you side by side once again. 

>>

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @its-not-too-late-for-coffee @khaleesihavilliard

[traveler-at-heart]

Game, Set, Match

Summary: Natasha Romanoff is a professional tennis player, struggling to go back to the top and win the US Open. Reluctant at first, she allows a sports journalist into her life... and a bit more.

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!R - Ya know it, fluffy af.

A/N: I love tennis and this was basically written for me. But @canvascoloredin is also a fan and thought, ok well, let's post it, maybe someone else will enjoy :)

“Thirty all”

She’s catching up, do something.

“Forty, thirty”

“Deuce”

“Come on, Natasha” her sister yells from the box.

Advantage, Romanoff.

Game, set, match. Natasha Romanoff.

Everything that happens after is a blur. Natasha feels like she just played the final, but in reality, it’s just the first round.

“Way to go, darling” her mother compliments when she’s back in the locker rooms, but Fury is quickly behind, not holding back.

“Three sets against an amateur and you won because she got nervous and got a double fault. That’s not good” 

“I beat her, didn’t I?” Natasha averts her eyes, putting on her jacket to go to the press room.

“Barely” her trainer mumbles. 

Natasha’s heart beats fast as she sits in front of all the journalists. They were warned about the questions they could ask, but still. Natasha feels all eyes on her, judging her reaction and demeanor.

“Did you worry about losing control at the start of the third set?” a man in the front row asks.

“It was the defining moment of the game, so I felt like I had to push myself harder and control the rhythm of the match. Which obviously happened”

“How was it to go back after your break? Unlike other players, you didn’t participate in any tournaments between Wimbledon and this”

“I’ve been playing tennis all my life, really, so it doesn’t feel like a big deal to me. Just because I wasn’t playing to win titles doesn’t mean I didn’t train” 

Natasha hears Fury cough and has to resist the urge to roll her eyes.

Control your temper, he’s trying to say.

Well, maybe they shouldn’t ask stupid questions.

--

You’re sitting in the middle of the press room, eyes trained on Natasha. She’s looking anywhere but you. 

I guess this means she read my column.

The conference is coming to an end, so you raise your hand and the assistant points at you.

“We have time for one more” he concedes.

“That’s enough for today” Natasha shuts it down before you can ask. 

Yeah, she definitely read the article.

Natasha can’t wait to get out of there, thanking the press before sprinting out of the room. You consider following her, but a text from your boss stops you.

Go to LA Stadium, Wanda Maximoff just bageled some poor girl.

With a bit of luck, you’ll get an exclusive with Wanda.

--

The biggest crime of Shostakov

It was a Tuesday afternoon, well into the second week of Wimbledon, when the news broke out. Alexei Shostakov, retired tennis player, was arrested for fraud and tax evasion. While in custody, it was discovered Shostakov was in possession of drugs.

The famous Red Guardian, who once had won on that very same club, was now dragged away in a patrol car, stripped of his days of glory. For people who are well versed in the history of tennis, this doesn’t come as a complete shock. Shostakov was a notorious trouble maker, often breaking rackets, ripping his shirts open and getting expelled from a total of 15 matches during the entire run of his career.

No one seemed more affected by the news than his protegee and adoptive daughter, Natasha Romanoff. The favorite to win the world’s most important Grand Slam retired amid the breaking news. As a result, Wanda Maximoff’s path to the trophy was an easy one, taking the number 1 from Romanoff while she was at it.

If her career depends on Alexei’s ability to get back on his feet, Natasha Romanoff should retire now.

In her best form, Romanoff is stealthy, precise and absolutely lethal. Her movements reminisce those of a ballerina; one that gracefully dances across the court -doesn’t matter if it’s grass, clay or hard- to deliver blow after blow of brilliance. Natasha has raw talent, pure heart and an unbreakable spirit.

The biggest crime of Shostakov, is that he’s in the way of her greatness. Maybe it’s his ego or a compulsion to attach himself to a woman who has the capacity to break every record from the Open Era.

Whatever the reason, it’s clear she’s better off without him. For those of us who love this sport, and want Natasha to be the champion she was meant to be, this is an unique opportunity to watch her finally emerge from the shadows of the overbearing man.

The proverbial ball is in Romanoff’s court. In all her brilliance, the one thing Natasha rarely does is take risks.

It’s never too late to start.

--

“We’re finishing the second day of the US Open and we have some major upsets. Carol Danvers, number 3 in the world and only American in the top ten lost to Brit Peggy Carter” you say, holding the mic and looking at the camera.

“I understand there was some excitement on the man’s singles” you hear Maria say on your earpiece and you nod.

“Queens had a face off with Brooklyn today. Bucky Barnes defeated amateur Peter Parker, but get this! They played five sets, and Peter won every tiebreak. So it seems like we have some exciting new talent”

“We’ll keep an eye on him, for sure. Thanks for the report, Y/N!”

“A pleasure as usual, Maria. Greetings to everyone back on the studio” 

“And cut” Darcy, your producer says. You remove the earpiece and hand over the mic. As you turn around, you spot Natasha training. It’s obvious you’re staring when Darcy speaks.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, you know? You wrote what a lot of people were thinking”

“Well, seems like she doesn’t wanna hear it”

“It’s fine. I mean, it would be better if we could get a quote from her or an interview but if she hates you that much we can get someone else to do it”

“Or, I could go and try to talk to her?”

“So you have a death wish!”

“Didn’t you just say I did nothing wrong?”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean she’ll listen. I am also legally obligated to tell you that your health insurance doesn’t cover injuries caused by tennis balls. Or rackets”

“Very funny”

--

“Relax your wrist” Fury instructs once again and Natasha ignores him, as usual.

She hates the press, the interviews, the hoops she has to jump through just so she can play tennis. 

None of it is optional and she has to follow the rules, something Natasha is particularly bad at.

“If you want to move to the next round you’re gonna have to listen to me”

Does she really want to move to the next round? Is there a point to all of this? She had lost her number one ranking and people were focusing more on her private life than her career.

Fury spots you across the court and smiles. 

You nod your head towards the man and he sighs, defeated.

“Can you talk some sense into her?” 

“Can anyone?” you say and he pats you on the back, leaving the court. The sun is setting and people are going home, ready to return tomorrow to watch the next round of players. You greet Natasha but she ignores you.

“You owe me a question” you try to joke, as she keeps hitting the ball so hard you think her racket will break in half. 

“I know who you are and I’m not talking to you” 

She looks hot when she’s pissed.

You push those thoughts away.

“Natasha”

“No, you and I are not on a first name basis. Not after you wrote all that crap about me without knowing me” 

“I only spoke the truth” 

“That my career is doomed and I should retire?” she finally stops throwing balls across the court and turns to look at you.

“Oh, my God! You didn’t even read it, did you?”

“I don’t need to. I know what everyone's been saying ever since Alexei was arrested. I know he was unconventional, but he was my trainer. He was beside me through the good and bad” 

“I get it, ok? He’s your family. And your trainer. That’s never easy and I understand how it can be hard to see things objectively. But,  Natasha, you are great in spite of him, not because of him”

That makes her pause.

“Nick Fury came out of retirement to train you. That’s how talented you are!”

The redhead serves a couple of times, staying completely silent.

“I’m not talking to you” she reminds you. 

“You’re the best player out there, Natasha. And right now you’re the only thing getting in the way of your success” 

--

Morning comes and so does the next match. Natasha is looking out the window of the suite, as people come and go around the busy streets of the tennis center.

Fury steps in, immediately aware of her nervous energy. If he asks if she’s ready, she’ll probably rip his head off. So, talking about something different might be the way to go.

“Her father was also a sports journalist,” he says, pouring himself a glass of orange juice.

“Who?” 

“Y/N. Richard was a single parent, so he’d always bring her to the games, even as a baby. She behaved better than most people too” 

“Is he retired?” 

“Nope. Cancer. Four years ago” Fury sits in front of Natasha. “Didn’t expect her to follow his steps, but that girl really knows sports. She’s working with the local station, and also writes for Sports Illustrated”

“What are you trying to say?”

“Never hurts to have a couple of friends around,” he says, sipping from his glass.

“I’m not good at making friends” Natasha looks away.

“Yeah, I know. You’re good at tennis, so…” the man checks his watch and stands up. “Let’s kick some ass”

--

Natasha has to face Kate Bishop, currently ranked 24. Her game is the opposite of aggressive, but she’s famous for her impeccable aim. Natasha has to control the game from the start if she wants to win.

She serves first, and as she bounces the ball, preparing her stance, Fury’s words echo in her head. All the advice he has given her for the past months, advice that she has consistently ignored.

Then, as she throws the ball, her eyes meet yours. You’re sitting in the front row, leaning forward. 

In a split second, she makes a decision.

Natasha is ready to take risks.

She aims for the corner of the service box, hoping it will fall inside. Kate lunges forward, shocked at the speed of the ball.

“Ace” the umpire announces. “Fifteen love” 

Natasha sees you clapping and can hear Fury shouting “That’s it, you can do this, Romanoff”

And boy, does she deliver. Kate is running across the court. Natasha’s unforced errors are incredibly low. While the crowd usually loves long games, the redhead is a legend and they’re excited to see her prowess first hand. 

The game ends in 47 minutes, 6-3, 6-2.

Kate approaches the net and shakes Natasha’s hand.

“That was… incredible, Romanoff”

“Thank you, Kate” 

The kind words and the genuine admiration make Natasha relax instantly.

Of course, the crowd goes wild as the redhead lifts her arms, clapping and waving. 

She’s in such a good mood that she decides she’ll finally take your question. But as she enters the press room, you’re nowhere to be found. 

Still, she chats and even jokes around with the journalists present.

Once again, the entire family celebrates as if Natasha had already won the Grand Slam.

“Seestra, the crowd was going craaaazy, it was like a Taylor Swift concert” Yelena tells her excitedly as they eat. Natasha’s starving, so nervous about today that she didn’t even have breakfast.

They keep chatting, talking about strategy for the next game and wondering who will go against Natasha next. 

“Natalia, your father wants to talk to you” Melina interrupts, holding her phone.

“Why?” Natasha snaps, going back to her stoic self.

“He wants to congratulate you,” the woman insists.

“I’m not in the mood. Excuse me” she stands up, losing her appetite.

Out on the terrace, she watches people passing by, trying to think of anything else but Alexei.

Your words come back to her, and she starts to believe them.

You are great in spite of him.

“Hey, there you are!” you shout from the bottom of the stairs, waving. “Do you have a sec?”

Natasha nods, going down. 

“First of all, wow. Brava”

“You wanted something?” she rolls her eyes, but you notice she blushes lightly.

It’s quite the view, Natasha’s body covered in sweat from the physical exertion, her sculpted arms in full display.

That tennis outfit looks really good on her.

“Oh.. yeah. Do you, uh, have time to meet a fan? She’s a little girl and you’re her favorite player”

“Of course” 

“Awesome, come with me!” you take her by the hand.

Natasha tries to ignore the tingling feeling she gets as she’s dragged around the center. Some people recognise her, but you’re walking fast and they don’t have the chance to stop her for a picture.

“Hey, Ava!” you greet the little girl, who’s holding a big tennis ball and a black marker. “Natasha, meet Ava. She’s your number one fan” 

“Hi,” the girl says shyly. She’s about nine, her mother standing next to her and smiling.

“Hi, Ava. It’s so nice to meet you” Natasha greets. “How are you liking the tournament so far?” 

“Uh, it was great, and you were so awesome today!”

“Thank you, I really appreciate it. Would you like me to sign that?”

“Yes, please!” her arms shoot forward, anxiously. 

“What other players would you like to meet?” Natasha says, as she signs the ball.

“Maybe Peter Parker… We met Carol Danvers, Bucky Barnes and also, Wanda”

Yeah, Natasha didn’t miss the way Maximoff signed the ball. 

From the number 1 player to the number 1 fan. 

So pretentious.

“That’s nice,” Natasha says, handing the ball back.

“Alright, let’s take a picture” you pull out your phone. Natasha kneels to be closer to Ava, and then places her tennis hat on the girl’s head.

“You can have it” Natasha smiles and is surprised when she gets a very enthusiastic hug. Her mother has to practically drag her away from where you’re standing, Ava turning around every couple of steps to wave at Natasha.

“Thank you, Nat,” you say, smiling.

“It’s not a problem. I didn’t see you in today’s press conference”

“That’s because it’s my day off” you say, surprised that she noticed your absence.

“What about that thing?” she points at the badge hanging from your neck that reads Press.

“That’s how I get in for free, duh” 

“Sneaky” 

“I can be” you shrug your shoulders and then turn back to your phone. “Hey, so can I send this to your PR team for them to post it?” 

“You don’t have to” 

“Fine, I’ll post it on my feed and tag you. Alright, gotta go. Have to cheer for Bucky” you say, taking her hand one last time. “Once again, thank you. And congrats. You were fantastic”

“I owe you a question” she calls when you’re walking away.

“I’m saving it for when you win the championship” you wink and she smiles, scratching the side of her neck nervously.

Later that day, her phone is blasting with notifications.

“Almost one million likes, Natasha” Yelena shows her the picture you uploaded of her and Ava.

“Is that good or bad?” the redhead shrugs her shoulders and her sister rolls her eyes.

“You’re so uncool!” 

However, she knows enough about Instagram to find your profile, going through your feed. Most of the pictures are from different games, some hangout with friends, the most frequent ones being Barnes and a pro that plays for the Yankees, Sam Wilson.

She’s about to close the app when two things that are equally horrible happen.

First, she likes one of your pictures from two years ago.

Second, she gets a message.

OfficialWandaMaximoff: Congrats on your win today <3

--

Bucky just lost the second set and is down on the third one. You keep refreshing the feed as you wait next to other journalists for Wanda Maximoff. 

Of course she’s in the quarter finals, that’s hardly a shock. Everyone’s waiting for her to face Natasha in the finals. When it happens, you’re obviously rooting for Nat.

Speaking of which…

@SportsBrooklyn: Good luck tomorrow! 

@NatashaROfficial followed you back

@NatashaROfficial: Do you only use Instagram or can you text like a normal person?

@SportsBrooklyn: Oh, right, text you to the number I don’t have!

Wanda walks in that moment and you lock your phone. Her auburn hair is tied in a high ponytail, and she changed to her signature red windbreaker and black pants.

You’re busy taking notes when your phone pings again. To your surprise, Natasha actually gave you her phone number.

@NatashaROfficial: If you share it with anyone else I’ll choke you

@SportsBrooklyn: Kinky ;)

The press conference ends and you practically sprint out to see if you can catch the rest of Bucky’s game.

You have to settle for the screens on the Champions Bar, comforted by the fact that Bucky seems to be ahead on the third set. As soon as he wins it, you stand up, knowing the break is the perfect time to slip into the player’s box.

“I’m so sorry” you say as you crash into none other than Wanda Maximoff. She grabs your arm to steady herself, smiling to ease you.

“That’s alright. You’re in a hurry?” she says, turning at the screen. 

“A bit, yeah” 

“I wish someone as cute as you was rooting for me” she smiles, placing a strand of hair behind her ear. She’s flirting? Oh boy. “I noticed you looking at your phone during the press conference. Barnes is a lucky guy” 

“Oh, we’re not…” 

“Here I was thinking he was smarter than that”

There’s a sense of urgency to go before the break is over, but you’re also completely confused. Why is Wanda Maximoff taking an interest in a local reporter? You’re vaguely aware that her eyes drift somewhere behind you from time to time, but before you can turn and have a look, she pulls your press badge and smiles.

“If you ever want an exclusive, just let me know, Y/N…” she reads the name from your press badge and walks away, leaving you completely confused.

--

Natasha watches the entire interaction from her small table. She needed a break so she decided to put on a hat and glasses, to get a drink without being recognised.

Wanda was all over you, giggling and looking Natasha’s way as much as she could, to let her know this was entirely to upset her.

All Natasha wanted to do was stand up and take you away from Wanda. You were too good for someone like Maximoff.

Wanda thought she was making Natasha jealous. 

She was right, but not in the way she would have wanted to.

--

“Maybe it’s time I retire” 

“You’re 28” 

“Might as well be 100 in tennis years” 

“Buck” you nudge him.

You’re looking out the Brooklyn Bridge, trying to cheer up your best friend after losing in the round of 16.

“You won the Australian Open this year” 

“Oh, yeah. I forgot about that. See? I’m senile” he mumbles, still grumpy.

“You did great, and you’re still in the top five, Grumpa. Ha! See what I did there?” he rolls his eyes and you smile, pulling him back to the street. “Come on, Sam is waiting for us to have some lunch” 

“Ok, but it’s on you because I’ll be broke once I retire” 

“Yeah, yeah” you roll your eyes, looping your arms together and dragging him to your favorite dinner. Sam’s already there, chatting around with everyone that recognises him.

All eyes turn to you as he stands up and practically shouts.

“How’s my favorite girl?” Sam greets you and then slaps Bucky’s shoulder. “Don’t make that face, man. You won the aussie one”

“That’s what I told him” 

Bucky takes his jacket off and orders a beer as soon as the waiter approaches you; even if it’s only noon, you let it slide.

You get a text from Darcy, asking if you’re watching the game.

Your mind instantly goes to Natasha. Did she lose? No, that can’t be. She was playing against Van Dyne, who was only there because of a wild card. You turn to one of the screens and ask the waiter to change the channel. 

“She’s winning” you say, still not understanding what Darcy meant.

“Why does she look so upset, then?” Sam points out.

Natasha is arguing with the umpire. You recognise him immediately.

“I hate that guy,” Bucky says, echoing your thoughts.

“Jarvis… something. Stone?” 

“Yeah, a total asshole. Wouldn’t give me a point I clearly won on Wimbledon because the other player was also a Brit” 

The argument ends and she keeps playing. Her forehand is killer today.

“Wow” Bucky says at the same time as you gasp.

“Man, I feel so dumb right now” Sam is looking between both of you, not knowing what caused your reaction.

“Just now? It’s more like, always” Bucky teases and Sam glares. He rolls his eyes and points at the screen. “Van Dyne hit after a double bounce. That’s not allowed. But Stone clearly doesn’t give a shit. He’s giving her the point”

“Natasha stopped playing because she saw it. He claims he didn’t so in his mind, she lost this one” you keep explaining.

“If Hope had a little bit of integrity, she’d concede the point or play it again”

“Well, she’s losing so she’ll take all the help she can get” you say. 

Natasha’s rage fuels her after this and she ends up winning, the second set a devastating 6-0.

However, the two men on the screen are being unsurprisingly critical of her. Your stomach turns when you hear the words “emotional” and “aggressive” thrown around.

Even if it’s a long shot, you try calling her. Phone’s off.

If you’re lucky, you’ll manage to see her once you get back to the stadium.

--

“Turn it off,” Natasha grumbles. Fury is watching the news in the living room. 

“I wanna see the highlights of other players. Prepare for what’s coming next. If you don’t like it, leave the room” he says with a dismissive wave of his hand.

After the game, Natasha did the mandatory press conference, went back to the lockers, destroyed two rackets, took a shower and then looked out the window for the better part of the day. 

She wasn’t in the mood to do anything and she didn’t want to turn on her phone. The temptation to read what the press and public had to say about her after today’s argument with the umpire was too big.

“Y/N, how are things at the US Open?” Maria Hill says. The screen splits, your image appearing on the right side.

“Exciting names on both sides for the semis. We have Thor against Banner, and T'Challa faces Namor for a spot in the semis. As for the ladies, Maximoff breezed through the match against Jean Gray”

“Well, I understand Romanoff didn’t have it so easy,” Maria says. 

From her seat, Natasha holds her breath. Yelena walks in at that exact moment, watching her sister closely.

“You know, I find it unbelievable that an umpire at the US Open could make such a poor call, not once but twice. First, with the hindrance call against Natasha and then by completely ignoring the double bounce before Van Dyne hit the ball” you say, clearly upset. “We’ve seen time and time again that some umpires are not up to the standards set by Grand Slams. And to my fellow journalists who like to throw around words like emotional, better save that energy for the men that smash their rackets just because they lost a point. As we all saw, Romanoff was in her right to demand fairness and she did it with the utmost respect” 

“Yes, I completely agree with you” Maria nods, clearly regretting even asking about it. “Well, let us chat tomorrow after we have the final for the men” 

“Of course, Maria,” you nod.

Natasha tries really hard, but she can’t help but smile at your words.

Yelena arches her eyebrows.

Well, this is interesting.

--

Natasha refuses to leave her room, arguing she’s not hungry. Melina, Yelena and Fury leave her alone, but the sudden silence becomes too much. There’s no noise to stop her thoughts from spiraling.

With a sigh, she turns on her phone. Two messages come through.

Y/N: Sorry about today. That umpire sucks :( 

Y/N: Bucky hates him too

Next thing she sees is a picture of Bucky and you holding your middle fingers to the screen with Jarvis’ face. Natasha chuckles at that.

She also zooms in, checking that your other hand is very close to Bucky’s. She feels a pang of jealousy that is interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Room service” a strange voice says.

“I didn’t order any..:” she says, but finds you smiling on the other side of the door.

“Gotcha” 

“What are you doing here?” the redhead can’t help but smile. You’re wearing a black leather jacket, a white tee and skin tight jeans. She’s torn between admiring your figure and paying attention to what you say next.

“Little bird told me you were very upset and you might need a distraction” 

“I’m gonna kill Fury” 

“Not Nick. Your sister. And are we gonna find something to eat by standing here or…?”

“I’m not hungry” 

“We’re going, Natasha. Go get changed” you push past her, tired of waiting around in the hallway. She’s taken aback by your forwardness. Her mother and sister would usually let her get away with anything.

“Where are we going?” she asks, hoping you won’t go all the way to her room and pick an outfit for her.

“Something casual will do” 

She changes as fast as she can, taking her phone and some money with her. You nod approvingly and then open the door, peeking around the hallway.

“This little field trip is not Fury approved so let’s be discreet about it” you inform her, taking her hand to lead the way to the elevator.

“Oh, yeah, this is super discreet” Natasha complains as you lead her to an electrical carriage. 

“Have a little fun, why don’t you?” you climb up, offering your hand. She takes and sits next to you. Natasha resists the urge to put a strand of hair behind your ear as you lean forward to give the address.

You feel her eyes on you, so you turn back, smiling and blushing lightly. 

It’s a short ride, and soon after you enter a small diner.

“Hey, Y/N” the owner greets you. “My, this must be a special occasion” she leans towards Natasha and whispers. “She’s never brought a girl over”

“Ok, Pat! Natasha is just a friend” you clarify, blushing in the process. Natasha laughs at you.

“Why? She’s pretty. You need to start dating” Pat says, leaving two menus.

“Don’t bother” you stop Natasha as she starts reading it. “She’ll bring us whatever she wants. But it will be worth it, I promise”

“Do you come here often?”

“My dad couldn’t cook if his life depended on it. But he was always good at finding the best spots to eat. So we came here all the time during the US Open and then later when Bucky started training”

Natasha nods and looks away. 

“So, you’re not dating Barnes either?” she says, looking anywhere but you. It’s embarrassing how much she cares.

“Uh.. no. He’s like a brother to me. His parents worked a lot so he’d tag along to games with us, and we grew up together” you wait until she turns to look at you. “Can I ask now?”

“Is this off the record?”

“Do you see my press badge anywhere?”

“One never knows with you people”

“Ouch, Natasha” the redhead laughs but you ask anyway. “Are you dating anyone? You’ve never been public about it”

“I’m not, no. I just don’t think I’d be able to find the balance. Between tennis and a partner. And my public and private life”

“Fair enough” you say. Pat approaches with milkshakes, cheeseburgers and fries.

“I hope you girls are hungry”

“Starving” 

“Fury’s gonna kill me” Natasha sighs, but then dips a fry in the milkshake and practically moans at the taste.

Your mouth is hanging wide open, and your teeth clash at how fast you shut it when Natasha turns to you.

“You’re right, this is worth it”

The rest of the night is spent eating and talking about everything but tennis. You learn that Natasha likes to bake in her free time, and that Yelena is taking a sabbatical before moving to New York to study at NYU.

After finishing your food, you both agree that walking back will be the best idea. 

“I’m so full” you complain as you enter through the back, too scared to be caught by Fury. Natasha walks in the opposite direction of the foyer. “Uh, what are you doing? I don’t want your coach all over my ass if you’re missing” 

“Have a little fun, why don’t you?” she echoes your words from before and you have no choice but to follow her. You end up on a tennis court, balls scattered around the floor.

“Do you practice here?”

“If I can’t sleep” Natasha picks up a ball and a racket and hands it to you.

“Can I help you?”

“Play with me”

“I can’t even serve, Natasha”

“Well, would you like to learn?” she says with a smirk and you can’t resist it.

“Fine. But after that, you go back to your room”

“Stance first” Natasha instructs. She corrects your posture and movements a couple of times, inching closer until she’s whispering instructions in your ear. The last thing she does is put her hands over yours to make sure your grip is tight. “Show me what you got”

She steps away and you miss her presence instantly. Trying to remember everything she told you, you toss the ball in the air and swing a little too hard. You trip over your own feet, but Natasha moves forward and catches you before you fall.

“You ok?” she says and you nod.

“How did I do, coach?” you steady yourself, holding her close to you. Your eyes travel to her lips, and you’re both out of breath from laughing.

Neither one can tell who leans first, but the fact is that you do and you discover, with great pleasure and no surprise, that Natasha is an excellent kisser. Her lips are soft against yours and she pulls you closer by your waist.

“Is this a new way of interviewing people, Y/L/N?” 

Oh, shit.

You break apart and turn to Fury, who looks very much not impressed.

“The only cardio you’re allowed to do until this slam is over is at the gym, Romanoff. Back to your room, now” 

“I’m not a little girl you can boss around,” Natasha protests.

“Come on, you should rest. We’ll talk later” you don’t want her to start arguing with Fury, not now that she’s finally listening to him. Natasha turns to you and nods, squeezing your hand one last time before going back to the hotel.

“I don’t want her distracted,” Fury says and you nod. 

“I wasn’t trying to… I won’t get in her way, Nick. I want her to win”

“Glad we understand each other. Now go home” 

He turns to leave and you wait for a little bit, trying to calm down after a mindblowing kiss. As you’re about to leave, you spot a yellow bracelet on the ground. You’ve seen Natasha wearing one before, but you’re too scared of Fury to go back now.

Tomorrow will be a new day for all of you.

--

“Keep your leg behind the ball” Fury instructs. Natasha has been listening to every single thing he says.

Yes, she’s nervous about the semis. And Fury’s the only one that can understand the feeling or help her play better.

“I want you focused,” he says as she walks to dry her hands.

“I am”

“You know what I mean” he says and as if on cue, you walk up to the court, waving. Natasha places the racket down and approaches you. “Practice isn’t over, Romanoff!”

“Five minutes” she asks, meeting you on the edge of the court.

“Hi”

“Hi” she says back. Her eyes go down to your lips and your heart flutters.

“Uh, you left… I think this is yours” you remember to speak, showing the yellow bracelet.

“Yes, thank you. Do you mind?” Natasha extends her hand and you put it around her wrist. “Yelena gave it to me before my first match. It’s my lucky charm”

“Well, good thing I saw it”

“Maybe you’ll be my next lucky charm”

“Oh? Am I supposed to be at every game from now on?” you smile, nodding when you’re done with the bracelet.

“I really wanna kiss you” Natasha blurts out and you blush. “But…”

“There are people watching and Fury doesn’t look happy either”

“He never does. Can I call you later?”

“Yes, you definitely can”

You want to kiss her so bad, damn it.

“Come on, go back, before Fury kicks me out of the court”

Natasha nods, squeezing your hand gently.

The way Natasha looks at you makes you all kinds of flustered, so you leave in a hurry before your desire takes over and you end up kissing her in front of all these people.

Once again, you run into Wanda Maximoff, only this time she doesn’t smile at all.

“She’s quite the player, right?” she says with a cold voice, her accent a bit thicker.

“Uh- yes. Natasha is a very talented pro”

“Oh, that’s not what I meant” she takes a step forward and looks you up and down. “Natasha likes to fuck around. But she always comes back to me”

“You’re… together?” your heart drops. Natasha wouldn’t lie to you about this.

Would she?

“Look, of course she wants to get distracted and she’ll use anyone that is dumb enough to fall for it. But don’t forget, she and I have history. And that’s stronger than whatever it is you think you have with Natasha”

No one is around to save you from this horrible conversation. You don’t want to argue with Wanda, because you’re still a journalist and it’s your job to be on the players’ good side.

But the reckless part of you wants to tell her to fuck off.

You sigh and look down. Wanda takes this as a sign of defeat and smiles, leaving you standing there.

It takes a minute for you to snap out of it, and you look around, desperate to walk away from everything that just happened.

—

“You’re seriously telling me you know nothing?” you ask Bucky for the tenth time.

“I don’t pay attention to rumors” he shrugs his shoulders, and you roll your eyes at him.

He’s sitting on your couch, the movie long forgotten. You nudge him with your foot and glare.

“Your best friend is a journalist, you should know better. You’re my insider into this crap”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m just not on the loop of who dates who on the women’s side. But I am not surprised Wanda scared you. Heard she can be batshit crazy”

“She didn’t scare me” you mumble. The both of you sit in silence for a while, until your phones ping simultaneuosly.

Thankfully, it’s not Nat. Right now, you don’t even know what to say to her.

“Sam. Probably to brag about his date in that fancy restaurant” Bucky tells you, but his eyes widen as he reads the message. “Wow. You need to look at this”

He hands you the phone and you read the conversation. It’s your group chat and Sam just sent a picture of Jarvis Stone, who is having dinner with none other than Wanda Maximoff.

“What the actual fu…”

“So that’s why he was being a dick to Natasha” Bucky says. “You’re not telling her about this, are you?”

“No, of course not. She has the semis tomorrow and I don’t want to distract her”

You look at your phone and press send before you chicken out.

Y/N: Can we talk tomorrow?

YBelova: Sure

—

You’re waiting by the entrance to Arthur Ashe, looking around.  Even if Maximoff’s match is later, you are still dreading to spot Wanda.

“Hey” Yelena says and you jump like a coward. “Wow, relax, it’s me”

“I’m sorry to be meeting you like this. I didn’t want to bother Natasha, especially today… she has enough on her plate”

“It’s ok, you can trust me”

“I know I can… it’s not easy to ask this, but do you know if Wanda and Natasha had a… thing? Like a relationship”

“Are you asking as a journalist?” the blonde says, clearly on edge.

“No, it’s not like that! Natasha and I… we kissed. And then Wanda told me yesterday that Natasha is just fooling around because she always comes back to her… and that’s weird but then a friend sent me this. It’s from last night”

“That’s the umpire that was a jerk to Tasha” Yelena takes your phone, looking at it in desbelief. “That bitch is still pulling this shit”

“If it had been only about us, I would have waited until Natasha finished her match. But it seems to me, like Wanda is trying to play dirty here”

Yelena sighs and hands the phone back. She looks around and steps closer, lowering her voice.

“Yes, they dated. Kept it a secret. It was on and off, especially when they were playing against each other. Wanda didn’t like to lose and then, after a while, she began to mess around with Nat. She would have a fight with her before a big match, even if they weren’t playing each other. Made Natasha lose her cool and struggle. They really haven’t spoken since the AO”

“What do we do? I don’t want her to mess with Natasha. I won’t let Wanda get in her way”

“I’ll speak to Fury about this. He knows everything. I’ll let you know what he says”

“Didn’t know you two were friends now”

A voice calls from behind you.

“Seestra, hey!” Yelena steps forward to give you time to recover. “Y/N was just telling me about her time at NYU”

“Is that so?” the redhead looks between you two and you nod.

She stills makes you nervous and flustered.

“Alright, my presence is no longer required” Yelena complains, but still gives you a meaningful look as she walks away.

“I have to warm up, will you stay for the game?” she asks, stepping closer.

“Yes, of course I will. I’ll be screaming your name” you blurt out and then blush. “I mean, rooting for you. Didn’t mean it to sound like that”

“Sounds good to me” she says, coming closer. “Can I have a good luck kiss?”

You look at her smile, her beautiful green eyes. Think about all the times she’s been kind and funny and brave. And you also think about how someone played with her heart just for a stupid title.

So you nod and lean forward, kissing her gently.

Natasha deserves to win, not only because she’s the better player. She’s the better person.

“Go win this thing” you say against her lips and she smiles, pecking your lips one last time.

—

Natasha’s win is not a surprise to you, considering the level of her recent games. You still have to stick around for the Maximoff match, opting to stay far away from the press room once she wins.

So, it’s down to the two of them in the final.

You’ve never wished for Natasha to win something so much until today.

Work keeps you busy enough. Both of the men’s semis take a combined time of eight hours and you end up completely exhausted, seriously considering just sleeping in one of the locker rooms.

You haven’t heard from Natasha but it’s understandable. She’s playing for the championship tomorrow, and knowing Fury, he will be preparing her in every way possible.

As you get a cup of coffee from one of the last stands open, your phone pings again.

Natasha: Are you still here?

Y/N: Yes :(

Natasha: Meet me in court 17?

Y/N: Yes :)

When you finally get there, you find Natasha serving a couple of times, wearing a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt.

“Is Fury ok with you staying up so late?”

“I did everything he said today. I think I deserve this one thing” she smiles, walking towards you. “You look a bit tired”

“Jeez, thanks”

“I didn’t mean it like that. Ugh, Yelena is right, I have no game off court”

You laugh at that, taking her hands in yours.

“It’s fine, I was just teasing you” you say, looking as her eyes drift towards your lips. You both lean forward, sharing a kiss.

“Thank you” Natasha says.

“Uh, you’re welcome?”

“I don’t mean the kiss, no. Thank you for telling Yelena that thing about… Wanda”

“Oh”

Natasha walks with you to one of the chairs and you sit together.

“I haven’t spoken to her in months. And I don’t want to be with her. I need you to know that”

“But still… you said you’re not sure you want a relationship, right? It would be too much trouble”

“I think it might be worth the effort for you” she confesses and you smile.

“You do have game”

“I do?”

“Tiny bit. We’ll work on it”

She laughs, and you sit in silence for a moment.

“I made my debut in this court”

“I know”

“How…?”

You sigh. Since you’re sharing stories…

“After my dad died, I kinda took distance from the things we did together. That included all kinds of sports. It was a painful reminder. And then, as the USO was starting, I realised he had already bought our tickets. So I came here, walked around a bit. And then I saw you”

Natasha smiles, squeezing your hand.

“Your hair was shorter, and you were wearing a weird orange top with green shorts” you frown as you remember how awful it looked.

“My mom chose it for me!” the redhead buries her face in her hands and you laugh. You take them in yours as you continue the story.

“You were amazing that day. Controlled, precise… I forgot for a little while about how sad I was. And after you won, I came back everyday to watch you play”

“Thank you for telling me that. I wish I could have known your father”

“I would have liked that too”

There’s silence as you both think about your own journies, the things that brought you to this moment.

“Come on, we should go. You need your rest” you stand up, offering your hand to Natasha. She thinks for a moment before taking it, but instead of standing up she pulls you down until you’re sitting on her lap, your legs around her.

“Nat?” you gulp, blushing at how close you are.

“Tell me to stop and I’ll stop” she whispers, kissing your neck and squeezing your ass.

“Holy shit, no, don’t stop” you plead, tangling your fingers in her red hair.

“Locker room?”

“Lead the way” you kiss her frantically, hoping no one sees you.

Once you arrive there, Natasha smiles and your heart stops for a second.

“Ready to scream my name?”

—

There’s warmth. And a nice pressure. Some tingling on your back. Like a soft touch.

You open your eyes in an unknown room, trying to remember where you are. As you turn around you find Natasha fast asleep, her arm around your middle.

“Nat?” you call for her, hoping no one walks in any time soon.

“Five more minutes” she mumbles against your skin.

“Nat, wake up” you plead.

As it turns out, she only reacts when Yelena kicks the door, walking in on you naked under the sheets.

“Happy finals day seestra—-ah! Naked”

“Yelena what is wrong?” to your horror, Melina joins her daughter. “Oh, you two lovebirds!”

“WHY DOESNT ANYONE KNOCK HERE” Natasha screams, putting the sheets above her head.

“Sorry”  Melina says, dragging away Yelena.

“Yeah, sorry” Yelena echoes, sounding anything but.

As you both get dressed, the memories of last night come back to you.

After your rendezvous -and almost getting caught by security- you decided it would be better to continue elsewhere. You blush as images of Natasha moaning, kissing and pleasuring you also come back.

“Hey” she approaches you as you walk to the door. “You ok? You look a little…”

“Flustered?” you say, trying to hide your blush.

“Well, yes. I’m sorry about them walking in”

“Last night was… amazing”

“Yeah?” she circles your waist with her hands and pulls you closer. “How amazing?”

“Like winning all Grand Slams in the same year kind of amazing” your hands go around her neck and you pull her for a kiss.

“Wow, that’s big talk” Natasha comments agains your lips. And as she’s about to kiss you, Fury walks in.

“Romanoff! What did I tell you about that cardio”

“For the love of God, knock!” Natasha says, defeated.

“Don’t worry, Fury, I promise she was laying down for the most part” you wink at the man.

“Stay for breakfast” Melina invites as she’s setting the suite’s table with all the room service.

“This has been sufficiently awkward, thank you. And I also imagine you have stuff to do”

“You need to stay hydrated. How much liquid did you lose?” Fury says, going around the kitchen like a headless chicken.

“Fury, I haven’t seen her this relaxed in months. My sister will be fine” Yelena comments.

“Are you coming to the game?”

“Of course. I’m on press duty”

“Come to the player’s box” Melina says.

“Would that be wise?” you ask and everyone shares a look. “What I mean is, we want to make Wanda think her plan worked, right? If she sees me there she’ll know we are on to her”

“I don’t care what she thinks. I want you there” Natasha takes your hand and you smile.

“Alright. I’ll be there. See you later” you kiss her cheek and smile.

“Byeee” Melina and Yelena say, and you realise that Natasha will have to deal with their questions.

Well, if she can deal with the press, she can deal with her family.

—

The day goes by in a blur, and as the match approaches, you feel more anxious. God, how does Natasha do this? If it were you with the world watching, you’d probably break down the minute you step into the court.

“Hello there” Yelena greets as you meet at the player’s entrance of Arthur Ashe.  “Ever been here?”

“Just once, with Bucky”

It’s hard to forget the luxurious facilities where players can get food, special gifts, some physio or workout before their matches.

“He won last year, right?”

“Yes” you smile at the memory. “How is Natasha doing?”

“She’s done with warmup, she had something light to eat and she seems ready. She’s also been smiling like an idiot all day, even if Fury kept her away from her phone”

“I want her to win, so whatever it takes” you smile at the blonde, and follow her to the lounge, where Natasha is waiting with Melina. The redhead smiles as soon as she spots you and you kiss her on the cheek.

“How do you feel?”

“Like a complete wreck”

“You got this. Remember she prefers short games, she also doesn’t like to volley or come close to the net. And people say her forehand is killer but she goes too far behind her back, so use it against her”

“Y/N?” she interrupts your rambling. “All of that is fine advice, but I already have Nick on my back 24/7”

“Right, sorry”

“You know what he doesn’t provide?”

“Hm?”

“Good luck kisses”

“That’s right, it’s above my paygrade” Fury says. “Say your goodbyes now”

Melina and Yelena hug her, Fury squeezes her shoulder and then they give you some space.

“Go win this thing” you say, leaning forward and kissing her softly.

Natasha leans her forehead against yours and smiles.

She’s ready.

—

Natasha comes out first, and the crowd goes wild.

Wanda is close behind her; you catch her staring at you, clearly shocked that you’re next to Nat’s family.

“Who’s losing focus now?” Yelena says with a cheerful voice and you can’t help but smile.

The game begins and it is very clear that Natasha is playing aggressively. She has an ace on every game and there are hardly any break points for Wanda. It’s been 30 minutes and the score is 5-2.

“She’s cooked,” Fury says, looking at Wanda. You shake your head.

“Maximoff has an insane record after losing the first set, you know that”

And in fact, she does lose the first set. As always, the crowd loves to cheer on the underdog, so they go wild when Wanda wins the first two games of the second set.

“Come on, Tasha” you scream, and she looks your way, smiling. In no time, they’re tied.

“What are the odds on a tiebreak?” Yelena asks.

“It can go either way” you sigh, confirming that it will happen as they reach 6-6.

Natasha is playing fast and hard, giving no time for Wanda to recover.

But as she serves for the match, Wanda challenges the call in the most disruptive way possible.

It was in, but since Nat stopped playing the point goes to Wanda.

“That’s bullshit” Yelena says under her breath and you nod.

Sure enough, Natasha zones out and goes from match point to losing the second set.

“Dear Lord” Fury says, trying to keep a neutral expression.

“Maximoff looks exhausted, Nick. Natasha is doing great. She didn’t give away the second set. She’ll do this”

The third set begins, the first four games a close call. Deuce is called when they’re tied at 2, and you know that whoever wins this point will end up winning the match.

Every time Wanda has an advantage, Natasha comes back and breaks. Even when the Sokovian is serving, it doesn’t stop Natasha from pulling her back to 40-40. The Russian is a wall, and Wanda seems to lose hope as time passes.

And then, it happens.

Wanda has a double fault that gives Natasha the advantage. Followed by a double fault that gives her a break.

“Yes” Fury claps, trying to keep it together.

As the score approaches 5, your heart beats faster. Once again, 5-2.

Natasha serving for the match.

An ace.

The crowd goes wild.

The second ball goes out of the court when Wanda hits it.

Then, a double fault.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

It’s 30-15 and then 30-30. All Natasha needs are two more points to win.

She searches for your face in the crowd and you smile, nodding.

“You’re going to win” you say and she smiles.

Another ace.

The screens show the “championship point” sign.

Wanda doesn’t make it easy for her. She’s like a wounded animal that has nothing to lose, so she runs, she answers every throw with a groan, she comes to the net.

But when Natasha does her signature dropshot, Wanda tries to run, reaches too late and the ball bounces one, two, three times.

“Game, set, match, Romanoff”

“Fuck, YEEES” Yelena screams, standing up and cheering.

It’s all a blur, Natasha falling to the ground and covering her face. Walking to the net to shake Wanda’s hand, and then  the umpire’s.

After, she walks among the crowd, trying to reach her box. Yelena is the first to jump, their mother hugging them both and crying.

Fury looks like he’s about to cry as Natasha hugs him. You’re certainly crying happy tears as you watch them.

And then, she walks past him and picks you up from the ground, kissing you in front of the entire stadium.

“Congrats, Nat” you say against her lips.

“I’ll be right back” she promises when the security guard asks her to come back for the ceremony.

“You owe me a question”

“Save it for the next championship” she says against your lips and you kiss again, in spite of the guard’s insistence and with the crowd cheering you on.

—

It’s been six more slam titles, two years of tours around the world.

Natasha still owes you a question.

You’re saving it for a time when you’re both ready, and you’ll ask her to marry you.

[miloformula123fan]

PART 2 OF THE LOGAN SISTER FIC PLEASE

okay, I know this is short, and yes part 3 is coming and yes it is angsty but I need to get it done

lmk if you want to be added to the taglist, anyone tagged is just people who asked for a second part :)

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

part 1 is here

part 3 is here

george russell x sargeant!reader

---

“SO YOU’RE TELLING ME OUR ENTIRE RELATIONSHIP WAS A LIE GEORGE.”

“No, no, it wasn’t. Y/N, you have to understand…-”

“UNDERSTAND WHAT? THAT YOU TREATED MY BROTHER LIKE A HUMAN BEING JUST SO I WOULD FUCK YOU? OUR ENTIRE RELATIONSHIP WAS BASED ON YOUR KINDNESS WHICH WAS A LIE! WHY, WHY WOULD YOU FUCK MY BROTHER OVER LIKE THAT JUST TO WIN A GIRL?” she took a deep breath ‘I’m done.’

“What? What do you mean, you’re done.”

She looked won, took another deep breath and looked George in the eyes. ‘I meant, I’m done george. I’m done with this relationship. I’m finished. I can’t forgive you after learning that our relationship was based on you treating my brother like a decent human being, and you planning on winning me over ike that. Well congratulations it worked. And now you’re back to treating my brother like absolute shit, because you finally got the girl. Congratulations. If you want to ‘win me back’, then maybe start with treating my brother like a human being again. But you’ll have to do more than that, Russell.’

And she walked out. George put his head in his hands. He’d signed so many NDAs, you would’ve thought he wouldn’t have left his laptop open and unlocked, particularly with Logan coming over. He really should remember to close his old files. Particularly when your girlfriend, no ex-girlfriend, had looked through your old powerpoints and found an old presentation he’d made to alex about how he was planning on wooing y/n. With the first slide being ‘treat logan nicely.’ and yeah maybe after he’d started dating y/n, his priority to include everyone had fallen behind.

And yeah, Logan was nice. He had learnt that after many morning jogs and coffees and dinners and hanging out after races. He still remembers how scared he had been a year ago, when he had first officially met Y/N.

“Well, then why is he telling me that there have been 2 people, Oscar and Alex, who have actually welcomed him to F1. Everyone else has snubbed him and he doesn’t understand why you don’t like him. He’s lonely. So fucking sort your shit out.”

And he had. Or at least he had tried. And Logan had really warmed up to him and started participating in the driver evenings, but George always visited his house, partly for the runs, partly because his trainer was less strict and he could make a better breakfast at Logan’s, and maybe partially for the hope that Logan’s sister would rock up.

And then she had. And logan had still been asleep. And she obviously still was a professional athlete so she had been more than willing to do a run with him. And then have breakfast when Logan had finally stumbled out of his bedroom. And then get her phone number

And then yeah maybe he had deserted Logan, assuming he now had enough interaction with the rest of the grid to be okay.

Until Logan had called Y/N last night, asking her to come over because it turned out the grid had gone to dinner without him, and he was feeling a little hurt. And she had promised to once George got home, and then she had absolutely laid into him. And now she was gone, presumably to Logan’s and George didn’t know what to do.

---

taglist: @folklorsweet @the-untamed-soul @thatgirlmj @cstads-blog

[bi-ss]

~ Ties that bind ~

Bucky x reader- arranged marriage.

Summary: You agreed to arrange marriage when you were little, after seeing who you are to marry. You wish you could go back.

WARNINGS: mentions of boobs lol, James trying to flirt if you squint, Sharon being a bitch, swearing..

(Spelling may be bad as I'm very dyslexic sorry in advance)

2:15. That's the time James said he'll pick you up, and he asked you to be ready. It's 2:53, and you've decided to go for a shower instead.

Slipping your hand into the shower you turn it on trying not to get wet, which you succeed in doing, you lay the shower mat on the floor and look at your self in the mirror before undressing, you step into the now steamy hot shower wetting your hair completely before grabbing your shampoo and washing the roots of your hair. You like shampooing twice before leaving in your conditioner just a smudge so your hair soft, you take a comb but just as you about to start you hear voices come from your room, which is strange as noone really comes in bar you so you were a little confused until you hear them, a deep scruffy voice then you think you hear your bed moving, Is someone laying on it? You thought, you were slowly combing the conditioner in the ends of your hair when you hear a grunt but a deep grunt, you wondered who could be bothering you as it hit you, James motherfucking Barnes. It's been a couple of days since the meeting, and you don't have a James number, but you do have natashas. You were aware that James, Sam and Steve, who ever they may be were talking about all this as Nat over heard but all she said was he were tied, you didn't really care but you do know they Sharon has moved into a spare room on almost the opposite side from the master bedroom, and that one of James few rules were that we were to sleep in the same bed ect ect...

You finish your shower, putting your hair up in a towel, drying yourself and putting on a silk robe, you smirk to yourself as you remembered the last time you saw James were when he ran in to sign a couple papers at the front door and you heard shanon call you a attention seeking where and a man stealing slut, but now here's her man on your bed, without her knowledge, you giggle and unlock the door, breathing quickly and walking out calmly.

You glance over at James and around your room, you see his black blazer hanger on your beauty chair, him laying on your bed, shoes thrown next to it, in an look black shirt and trousers look, shirt slightly unbuttoned, with a shit eating grin on his face. While you, on the other hand, were in a short red silk robe and damp hair wrapped in a black towel, you pull the towel from your head, letting your damp hair, which is slowly shrinking flow free.

James grin slowly falters as his eyes seductively graze across your wet freshly waxed legs and the little bit of cleavage showing, once back to your face he study it like a text book, "if I'd had known you were showering, I would have ran here myself" he speaking proudly like he won a race, a race he ran by himself.

You giggle, slowly making your way to one of the bed posts making sure to sway your hips a little, leaning on the post you pout slowly, "if you were here faster I wouldn't have showered here, maybe at yours but as your late" you check the clock and see its 3:35 "I had to shower here" you continue pout but you weren't sad or annoyed he was late, or he was on your bed, you were more annoyed that hw aas flirting with you becuase he has a girlfriend, you disliked Sharon but no woman should have to know her boyfriend is flirting with another girl, and that he will marry her, no no no no.

Smirking at James as you yourself off the post and walk round the bed next to James, pushing the double doors to enter your closet humming as the smell of diffrent fabrics and soft smells enter your nose, you jump slightly as you feel you large hand on your hip, looking up to see James with a shocked expression on his face. You get an idea in your head, slowly turning to the broad man behind you, grabbing his chin gently with one hand, pulling him down to look at you.

"Go on, mister you get free range" you laugh to yourself as you walk back into your main bed room almost to your bed when you look behind you, still walking, to see James even more confused still standing in the door way, getting to the side of your bed you quickly start explaining before you lose confidence. "You said you wanted to atleast look like a happy couple, so I want you to go mad and dress me" you smile happily as you slowly start sliding down on your side, praying your still atleast a little covered but it didn't take James long to smile like a teenage boy looking at boobs for the first time and disappear into your walk in closet.

Once he's gone, you breathe and wonder where your confidence came from, then you feel bad for Sharon bit then remember she called you a whole and slut multiple times so feel less bad. You grab your phone and see nat texted you 3 times, and the one you can see from your unlocked screen says 'don't feel bad' so when you unlock and see that rest you feel less bad for Sharon as her messages are about how they were fighting because bucky admitted that he'd seen you years earlier at one of your fundraising events but at that time you were dating John so he didn't introduce himself and how he knew for ages she was using him for money but she was shit at hiding it and some other stuff, you replied saying you guessed so and how it was pretty obvious.

Nat: ngl you should probably start making him fall for you

You: why?

He knows she's using him

Nat: yeah but this has happened before, she'll say sorry and how she's change she'll change for a month then slowly change back.

You: oml why don't they don't break up

Like srsly it's kinda embarrassing

Nat: I've been by his side for almost 20 years, they have been together for 3 and at first she was a darling but money changes people

Also, he really loved the person she was and still thinks she's in there

Love does weird shit to us, man

You: fairs, he's picking out an outfit for me rn so I'll see 😛

What do I do just kiss him or something? I've never had to really try it. It's easy when they are already swooning

Nat: I guess, make him feel love for the rest of his life. I doubt he'll let you go

And I'll make sure of it x

You: sound

OK Nat, we met a couple of days ago, lol

Nat did send you another text, but you were by James calling your name while smiling proudly again, throwing your phone on the bed, getting up to see what he's layed out for you, walking past him you see a all black suit with some heels you turn to him nodding with a pleased expression "you did good James, but now I will be changing and you haven't gotten to the stage yet" you wink as you closed the doors but you still see the annoyed just playful gace he pulled, you turn to the suit and pick it up, seeing one of your favourite black lace lingerie sets underneath, you should be upset that he went to fair but you just giggle and started getting dressed and doing very light makeup. Once mascara, lip liner, and lip gloss were applied, you reopened the doors to see his amused, then blank expression, you walk out with your jacket folded over your arm and your shirt undone all the way to expose your bra which for being lingerie with quite covering for the most part, you smile, picking up the bag you had earlier and open your doors making your way to the front hall to where your stuff is to see all of it was gone and with James closely behind you, walking outside to the now only blacked out car there, which wasn't your fathers.

James rushed ahead to open the door for you, climbing in and you watched him walk round and open his door, your bag at your feet with your door closed and seat belt on you were ready, you knew you'd come back home sooner then later so if wasn't emotional.

"James stop staring at my boobs and driving" rolling you eyes as he starts the door and slowly pulling out, you hope it's an short ride that's not to awkward, so you look out the window as the trees go by.

TAGS: @learis @unaxv @cjand10 @pattiemac1 @coffee-winter-and-silence @scott-loki-barnes

[scarisd3ad]

Jump then fall | Steve Harrington x reader

Chapter one - everything has changed

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Summary - after 7 years of being split apart from your childhood friend Steve you return to hawkins after your younger sisters tragic death, and parents messy divorce. But the Steve you came back to isn’t the same Steve you left behind.

"Steve!" Steve was surrounded by two of his new friends, Tommy and his girlfriend Carol, as I skipped up to him. They were both in 8th grade like Steve. carol looked me up and down as I stood in front of the trio. Steve had an annoyed look on his face from the moment I opened my mouth. Ever since he became friends with Tommy and Carol, it seemed as if I was just another inconvenience for Steve. "What?" the words are harsh as they come out of his mouth, almost like he was stabbing me right in the heart. But despite the achy feeling in my chest, I continued to talk. "wanna come over after school? My dad is working, so he won-"

"God, you are so annoying," Steve scoffs, which makes my brow furrow together in confusion. Steve has been a sweet boy ever since the moment I met him in kindergarten, but the moment he entered the 8th grade it was like a switch flipped inside of him. He no longer cared about his mother or his real friends he only care about popularity, girls, and being an absolute asshole to everyone around him. "Wh-what?" the words come out quiet and meek, the confusion still setting in as my eyes flicked from him to Tommy and then to Carol. Both his friends chuckled, probably because of the tears pooling in my eyes. "I said, you are fucking annoying! can't you go find someone else to cling onto?"

It seemed like time had stopped. Everyone around us stared, some laughed, and some whispered. Was I sent into a parallel universe because this wasn't the Steve I had grown to know? My chest heaved as I blinked back tears. "I-I'm sorry I thought-I thought-" I couldn't get the words out fast enough because Steve was shouting again before I could finish my sentence. "What that I was, your friend? I only hung out with you 'cause I felt bad that your sister died" This wasn't about Sara. He didn't need to bring her up. He knew it was a sore subject. The wound was still fresh. He knew it was still fresh. This felt like he was sticking a knife into that barely healed wound.

I want to punch him; I want to tackle him down to the ground and kill him just because he brought up my sister. "Your mom didn't even like you, so why should I? She dodged a bullet, leaving you." Maybe it was my mind making it up, but it felt like everyone around me was cackling at his words, at my tears, at my fists clenching and unclenching themselves. it hurt, it hurt so bad because I trusted him. I thought he was my best friend, but he wasn't. he was an evil lying bitch.

Before he can say anything else, I'm running away. I ran out of the school and to the group of telephones that stood outside against the school. I immediately punched in my father's work number as heavy sobs racked through my body. The phone rang a good three times before the secretary, Flo, answered the call.

"Hello, this is Hawkins police station. My name is Flo. How may I help you?" Flo was an older lady with dark hair and big, round glasses that sat on the brim of her nose. I sniffled before wiping my eyes. "He-hey Flo, can I talk to my dad?" I asked. Flo must've not noticed I was crying because she instantly transferred me to my father. The phone rang once before my dad answered, "Yeah what ya need?" Dad asks, "Da-daddy can you-you come get me?" I asked through sobs. I could almost hear the confusion in his voice as he asked, "What's wrong? What happened?" I don't answer due to the sobs that continue to erupt from my body. My brain was asking the same question repeatedly. Why would he do that to me? I thought we were friends. "I-I-please Dad," he grumbles quietly, "alright I'll be there in a few minutes."

I stood on the sidewalk with my arms wrapped around my body, waiting. Tears were still streaming down my cheeks when my dad's blazer pulled up beside me. I quickly get into the car, throwing my backpack in the back seat, and slamming the door shut before curling up in a ball, leaning my head against the glass. My father didn't immediately begin driving, instead deciding to interrogate me. "What happened? Did someone say something to you?"

"Steve," I whispered as more tears fell down my cheek. "Wh-what'd he do?" he asked, brows curling into a furrow. Dad knew Steve as a sweet boy, not someone who could ever hurt me. "He-he said...said I was annoying a-a-and that I was clingy." I said through sobs "And he-he said he was only my friend because he fe-felt bad because Sara die-died, that, m-mom didn't like me so why should he, a-and that she do-dodged a bullet leaving." His blood was boiling, I could tell. His face turned red, and he clenched his fists. Before I could even ask him what he was doing, he was already out of the car and halfway towards the front door. 

-

I wasn't a total nerd or loser. I was just normal, but I wasn't a Heather or a Carol. I was just me. I wasn't even the attractive type of normal person like Nancy Wheeler. I was just average. I was standing at my locker waiting for my friend Stephanie. We always met up at my locker before walking to English. Steph was popular. Sometimes I ask myself how I scored a friend like her. She was beautiful and kind. Everybody liked her and everybody had a reason why. The boys liked her because she was pretty, and the girls liked her because she was kinder than the other popular girls. Her curly hair bounced as she sauntered up to me. Her lips formed in a sweet smile as her hands pressed against her hips.

Her hair was pulled into a ponytail and a green bow was placed in her hair to match her green cheerleading uniform. "You coming to the game tonight?" she asked as she leaned her body against the locker next to me. "Maybe I Dunno. I have a lot of homework tonight," I whisper. I'm momentarily distracted by Steve walking by with his arm around his new plaything, Lisa Franklin, a cheerleader like Steph, but unlike Steph, Lisa was an absolute bitch. Despite the hurtful things Steve Harrington said to me, my crush on him never completely disappeared. Sometimes it felt like it was hidden away, but it was always there, simmering beneath the surface. 

Whenever I saw him walk by or heard him speak in any of our shared classes, my heart would skip a beat and my feelings for him would come flooding back. It was frustrating and confusing, but I couldn't help the way I felt. I feel two arms wrapping around my body, drawing my attention away from Steve. I glance over and see that it's Shawn Peterson. My relationship with Shawn is a bit complicated. We do things that most people in a romantic relationship do, but we don't use labels because he 'doesn't like labels'.

Shawn's a football player who's popular enough to be kind of friends with Steve. His hair is a dark, chocolate brown that falls in natural waves, framing a face that is both masculine and handsome. But it's his stunning brown eyes that steal the show, sparkling with an intensity that could make any girl weak in the knees. "So, you coming tonight?" he asks as he presses a kiss to my neck. I shrug my shoulders. "Maybe still Dunno though," I whisper. He groans as he presses a kiss just below my ear. "c'mon my parents aren't home tonight; we can go to mine afterward," I hum as I turn so I'm facing him. If I go, I have to tell my dad I'm at Steph's house and if I do that, I have the risk of him calling her parents to verify.

despite the risks, I smile up at him and whisper, "yeah okay sure." 

-

I sat on the bleachers watching as Steph cheered. my hands were buried deep into my pockets as I zoned out. No matter how much I loved Steph and Shawn, I'll always find high school football games a little boring. I didn't understand football and no matter how many times Shawn tried explaining it to me, I always left the conversation a little more confused than I was before. I feel someone sit down beside me, but I don't care enough to look to see who it is.

"hey," an all too familiar voice whispers. That makes me look up because I haven't heard that voice talking to me in years. Steve Harrington sat next to me, dressed in the same outfit he had been wearing at school earlier that day. I couldn't stop my heart from beating a mile a minute, and my hands beginning to shake. I can't tell if I'm nervous because I'm scared or because I have feelings for him. "What?" I mutter back, my voice a little harsher than I expected. Despite the fact he had been so mean to me back in 7th grade, I never wanted to be mean back. I couldn't get myself to do it.

"You here for Shawn?" Steve asks, his left hand tapping away at the metal bench. I nod replying "Yup" he hums as he nods awkwardly "Sooo...is he your y'know boyfriend?" I shrug "It's complicated..." he nods, a quiet hum coming from his lips. Why did he want to talk now? He hasn't talked to me in 3 years, but now randomly he wants to talk like nothing ever happened, like he never whispered to his friends when I walked by or spread rumors about me. "Why are you talking to me?" I ask brows curling in confusion as I stare up at him.

"wh-oh I-I just wanted to talk," he mutters back. he didn't want to talk for years before this, so why'd he want to talk now? After everything he's done to me, why now? I'm silent as I search his face for any signs that he's messing with me. But there's nothing, not a smirk, or some type of glint in his eyes, just brows furrowed together in confusion. I decided to look around to see if any of his friends were nearby snickering to themselves, but still, I didn't see any of them.

"wh-what are you looking for?" he asks. I quickly pivot my body towards him again. "Are you fucking with me again Steve?" he lets out a shocked little gasp before hurling into saying "No, no I'm not I just thought we could talk y'know since we haven't in a while" That infuriates me because he knows damn well why we aren't talking. "You know why we haven't talked in a while," I mutter as I scoot away from him. "c'mon y/n that was so long ago," he says, elongating the 'o' at the end of ago. I scoff rolling my eyes. "Yeah fuck you," I say as I scoot away from him a little more. He sighs defeated before asking, "How's your dad?" I shrug, muttering a quiet "fine," he nods awkwardly "You still live in the same house?" I shake my head. "No, moved a few years back."

We sit awkwardly, both of us not speaking as the football team comes running out on the field. Most of the people around us roar in applause and shouts of excitement, including Steve. he stands to his feet clapping before cupping his hands together in front of his mouth and shouting "Yeahhh Shawn!!" I cringe a little inside. Steve, like every other popular guy and athlete at the school, were filled with so much school spirit it made me physically cringe. he sat back down looking at me, as I stared at my feet trying to hold back laughter. "What?" a smile cracks to his lips as I let out a few quiet giggles. "Nothing...nothing" he laughs, and for a few quick minutes our old dynamic came back.

"Seriously? C'mon, what?" cover my mouth with my hand as I continue to laugh. I shake my head, refusing to say anything as our laughter dies down. And just like that, we were back to two estranged friends who hadn't held a conversation for more than 2 minutes for the past 3 years, almost. "y'know your dad punched me that day?" I look up at him, brows furrowing as I whisper a quiet "What?"

"He punched me when I was in eighth grade. " It all comes back, my father storming into the school after admitting to him what Steve had said to me. "good" I wouldn't normally expect my father, a grown man, to punch a 13-year-old, but in that instance, I don't blame him. If I was him and a guy like Steve had told my daughter the things Steve had told to me, I would've done more than just punched him. Steve laughs almost as if he was agreeing with me "Yeah...I was an asshole" I roll my eyes, was? Steve Harrington was still an asshole. "still" I say correcting him. Now it's his turn to ask "What?" I roll my eyes yet again as I say, "You're still an asshole", he frowns as he nods slowly "Yeah...I guess" At least he could admit it. 

-

Once the game ended, I bid Steve a quiet goodbye and went to the parking lot. I wait by Shawn's car for about 10 minutes until I see Shawn walking towards it, duffle bag swung over his shoulder, and hair damp. Steve walked next to him, both chatting about who knows what. Shawn drops his bag onto the hood of his car before scooping me up into a kiss.

Returning his kiss, I wrap my arms around his neck. I try to enjoy the kiss, but unfortunately, I can't because I can practically feel Steve's glare. I pull away, eyes meeting with Steve's. His brows are knitted together in an angry, or jealous type of furrow, and his arms are crossed over his chest. "You did so good out there," I say, pretending like I wasn't zoning out every 10 seconds. "mhm" Shawn hums before pressing his lips back against mine.

Steve clears his throat, making Shawn and I pull apart yet again. "well I'm gonna go. "See ya later, dude... um, nice talking to you again, y/n," Steve says before he starts walking towards his BMW, that was parked a few cars down.

The drive to Shawn's house is short and quiet. The only noise present is the low hum of the radio, and our breathing. When we get into his room, his hands are almost immediately all over my body. His lips touch mine, and his hands slide up and down the sides of my body before deciding to rest comfortably against my hips. The room is already somehow hot, and we're both out of breath when the sound of the phone (which sat on his nightstand) begins to ring.

BRINGGGG, BRINGGGG, BRINGGGG.

The sound of the phones rings is shrill and cuts through the quiet house like a knife. Shawn groans before pulling away from me. He crawls up his bed before answering the phone. Leaning against the headboard, he says, "Hello?"" in a very annoyed tone. "Oh, hey dude...no you weren't interrupting anything." the last bit drips in sarcasm as he says it.

"Yeah...yeah she's here, what'dya need?" I know he's talking about me because no one else is here, but I don't have a clue about who he's talking to. His brows furrow in confusion as the muffled sound of the other person talking comes out of the receiver. Then he scoffs as he shakes his head. "No, I'm not gonna do that sorry Steve." Steve? Why would Steve be asking about me? "Dude, you can't just ask me to do that" Shawn's eyes flick over to me before he whispers "I've gotta go alright? yeah, yeah, see you later." Shawn says before hanging up the phone.

"What was that about?" I ask. He hums quietly before hesitantly saying "Um...he just wanted to ask me if he could copy my homework" My brows furrow. There's no way Shawn would have made a big deal out of copying homework. They always copied each other work, so there was no way that's what Steve had asked. There was no world in which Shawn would have answered like that to needing to copy his homework.

As I press my hands into the soft cushion of Shawn's mattress, I sigh and whisper, "I should go... my dad's gonna be pissed if he finds out I stayed out late." Shawn nods before asking "Need a ride?" I nod, pushing myself up off the mattress and to my feet. "Yeah, but drop me off a few miles out. Don't need my dad knowing you're there."

A few years back, after my father's divorce was settled, and I was adjusted in school, my father sold our old family house. Claiming there were too many bad memories there, then he promptly moved us out to a cabin in the woods, much to 12-year-old Me's dismay. The cabin had supposedly been my grandfather's. his father, aka my grandfather, skipped out on the 'wondrous' opportunity to live in the shithole, so it had been abandoned for years since my great-grandfather died. It's a shitty log cabin, two beds and one bath that sat in the middle of the woods.

I hate being at that place alone. The doors creek, and the trees around it whistle with every gust of wind. I swear I'm going to be murdered one day in it and it'll be all Dad's fault for moving us out there. I didn't know why he couldn't have just moved us into some moderately shitty apartment or even keep us at the old house. 

-

Shawn's car slowly drives down a dirt road in the middle of the woods. His high beams shining ahead of us to make sure there wasn't some animal (or person) in our way. About halfway towards my house, Shawn stops the car. From there, it would be about a 10-minute walk up to the house. "I can walk you up there if you want me to," he says, his voice quiet as if he thought my father would somehow hear him all the way out here. "No, I'm fine...but thanks anyway. See you on Monday," I say as I push open the car door. I sling my bag over my shoulder as I begin the walk towards my house. Shawn waits until I'm out of sight from his car to turn around and it's the 5-minute drive back to the main road.

I arrive at my bedroom window. I don't even notice my dad stood leaned up against the door frame until I'm fully inside my room. I'm left staring at my father, who has his arms crossed over his chest, angrily glaring at me. "WHERE THE HELL WHERE YOU?" my mouth gaped open as I began to say something but decided it was better not to. "GO ON TELL ME WHERE THE FUCK YOU WHERE" I let out a groan as I matched my father cross my arms over my chest "I was at the football game," I say with an eye-roll as I toss my backpack on my bed.

He scoffs "THE FOOTBALL GAME ENDED AT 8:30 SO TELL ME WHERE THE FUCK YOU'VE BEEN FOR THE LAST 2 HOURS!" his voice echoes through my room as I begin to talk, "God you're being so dramatic. A few friends and I went to Shawn's to celebrate after the game." his face is red, and his fists clench and unclench before he begins to shout again. "YEAH, WE'LL SINCE YOU DONT KNOW HOW TO FUCKING PICK UP A PHONE AND TELL ME WHERE YOU ARE I DON'T WANT YOU OUT OF THIS HOUSE FOR THE NEXT TWO DAYS!" my eyes widen as I shout "What! that's not fair! I'm babysitting this weekend!"

"well, you're going to call whoever you're babysitting for this weekend and tell them that you can't make it anymore, and I don't want you using this phone this weekend either," he says as he goes to unplug the phone from the wall. I let out a loud dramatic "ugh!" which is then followed by me shouting "I hate you!"

As he walks out of the room he says, "Yeah well I fucking hate you too" I dramatically sit down on my bed before shouting again "You're such a fucking asshole!" he turns brows furrowing as he says, "What did you just call me", I'm not scared of him, I never have. He thinks I am, but I never will. "I said you're a fucking asshole," I repeat as my arms cross over my chest. He scoffs as he says, "I'll show you how much of an asshole I can be" before slamming my bedroom door behind him. 

I sit on my bed, arms crossed like a bratty toddler as tears pricked in my eyes. it wasn't fair. I've gotten home late a handful of times and he never gotten angry any of those times, why did he always pick and choose when he wanted to blow up? I wonder what it would be like right now if I was still in New York with my mother. would she be blowing up on me right now too? would she be cool about things like this? or was she strict? but I guess I'll never know because she gave up on me and our family.

I feel bad after fighting with him, I always feel bad. I know deep down he loves me; he just doesn't really know how to show it anymore. I crave that fatherly love that gets rationed out from time to time. I think that's why we fight so much; I crave the affection; he doesn't know how to show it. when he's not working, he sits on his chair, or in his bedroom practically in a catatonic state staring at the tv or a wall, we eat dinner in our separate rooms we don't talk unless we're screaming at each other, or I've got my head laid in his lap as I profusely apologize for what had happened. we're both traumatized i know that we both lost so much, but he should at least try. he knows I don't have any other parental figures in my life, and he still chooses to be distant and cold.

I sigh arms falling to my sides, pressing against my soft mattress. sometimes in the spur of the moment I wish he had died, and I know he thinks the same about me. I always feel bad afterwards though. even though I live with him, I don't know my father at all, he's a stranger to me. the only time we feel like father and daughter is when he's bossing me around. it's absolutely bazar that I feel the same way about my father that I do my absent mother. it's actually like they're both absent in their own ways, dad emotionally, and mom physically. he totally gave up after sara died, I mourn my father in the same way i mourn my dead sister. I just want the old him back, the dad who chased us around the park, and took us out for ice cream, the dad who never even thought to yell at me even if i had stollen a car.

I just want him back.

-

Taglist

@sheisjoeschateau @nothankyou138 @gleefulleve @luluw-20 @skrzydlak @halflifejess @natalie-flo @castleallherown

[this-is-what-makes-us-fandoms]

Alliance || Total Drama ||

After finding out Duncan cheated on you with Gwen, Alejandro offers you an alliance as revenge against Duncan. 

Pairing: Duncan x Reader x Alejandro 

Warnings: Cheating (not reader), fem implied reader 

Words: As I’m finally coming out of my writer’s block, I present this! Maybe a little self-indulgent because I like Alejandro and Duncan. Oops—Might make a second part if people like it though.

| Not my GIFs |

Your cheering for Cody ceased when Tyler blurted out the secret he’s been holding back. It took a moment to register in your head, not wanting to believe it. Duncan didn’t actually kiss Gwen, right? Your boyfriend and best friend wouldn’t have done that to you. It had to have been a strategy the other team came up with to throw you off. Pitting you against each other so you’d be distracted during the challenges. 

“Wait, what?” you ask, the distraction immediately working. 

“He said that Duncan kissed G—,” Alejandro repeated. 

You were quick to cut him off before turning to face Gwen. “I heard what he said! Gwen? Is that true?” 

She looked at you with guilt written all over her face that only confirmed it. She took a step back, as if expecting you to fight her. And for a moment you thought about it, anger quick to take over. Except heartbreak was quicker to hit when you fully accepted the situation. Your boyfriend and best friend kissed behind your back. 

You turned to look at Duncan who gave you a just as equally guilty look. You had hoped that by looking at him he’d shut down Tyler’s rumor. But when he looked away, you knew it was all true. Your heart cracked in your chest, and everyone was silent, waiting to see what you’d do. Both Duncan and Gwen watched you closely and you could see the fear on their faces. You never got mad or raised your voice, you were one of the few reasonable contestants on this show. It’s what made you so likable and kind of scary with everyone wondering if you’d ever snap. Today might just be the day. 

You turned to look at Cody who hadn’t moved yet, he was watching to see what happens next. No doubt scared that you might do something to Gwen. You kind of felt bad for him, he was sort of betrayed too. It can’t be fun knowing the girl you’ve been pining over kissed someone else. 

“Cody, start flying if you want to win this. Otherwise, if we lose, we’ll be voting Gwen off tonight,” you tell him. 

Your voice is eerily calm but it’s enough to set Cody flapping his poorly made wings. Your words made him determined to win, more so with his team agreeing with you. The Amazons won the challenge in the end which meant Gwen was safe for now. It also meant that Duncan had a chance to be voted off and although you were heartbroken, you didn’t want to see him go yet. 

Once your team is back in first class, you're left alone with your thoughts. And everyone wants to know what you’ll do to Gwen. Courtney is immediately giving you ideas, completely on your side. She had a crush on Duncan, but when he admitted he felt the same for you, she became your number one supporter. Which meant she was the embodiment of your anger now. 

“Hey, can we talk?” Gwen asks, approaching you with a guilty look on her face. 

“She has nothing to say to you!” Courtney exclaimed, standing in front of you. 

Gwen took a step back but looked over at you, nonetheless, silently pleading with you. Courtney looked at you too, arms crossed over her chest with a scowl on her face. You knew you should talk to her about this, but you didn’t want to. Not right now. 

“You heard her, I don’t have anything to say,” you repeat. 

She sighs heavily and walks away with a defeated look on her face. As much as she liked the kiss with Duncan, nothing could get rid of the guilt she felt. She hadn’t meant to betray you like that, it just sort of happened. At least, that’s how she likes to remember it. 

“We can so vote her off in the next challenge,” Courtney says once she’s gone. 

You shake your head, a defeated and broken look on your face. “It won’t change anything.” 

“No, but it’ll make you feel better. And it gives me an excuse to boot her out,” Courtney offers, trying to cheer you up. 

She liked you, which is rare for her, especially given the circumstances. This wasn’t exactly the place to make friends, but she became friends with you. You were the only person she’d deemed worthy enough to make it to the final two. Which is why she was angry for you. And maybe something else that she’d never admit. 

You offer a smile, strained but good enough to seem cheery. “I’d still rather play fair. If we happen to lose a challenge then whatever happens, happens.” 

That was enough for her, deciding to make your team purposely lose. People would suspect it from you but not from her. She could even get Sierra and Heather in on it. 

You wanted to be alone after, sneaking away from first class. You found a corner hidden away from everyone and sank down. Being alone meant you finally felt everything that just happened. Your boyfriend really kissed your best friend. You felt your heart crack inside your chest and the dam finally burst. 

You sobbed into your hands, using them to muffle whatever noises left you. It almost worked, had a certain someone not been snooping around. Alejandro found you in your corner crying your heart out. It’s exactly as he had hoped for. To get you alone and charm his way into your trust. Except standing in front of you now, he wasn’t so sure of his plan. 

“May I offer some comfort?” he asks, sitting beside you. 

You stop crying immediately and wipe your tear stained cheeks. You clear your throat and look away. “No, I’m fine. Completely fine.” 

“Of course, I didn’t mean to insinuate you weren’t,” he says, giving you a charming and gentle smile. 

You furrow your brows and stare at him, seeing straight through him. You didn’t trust Alejandro, from the beginning of this season. You saw what he did to Bridgette and LeShawna. You weren’t going to let him get to you the same way. 

“What do you want?” you ask. 

“My, I didn’t expect such a beautiful lady to be so harsh,” he places a hand over his heart and feigns being hurt. 

It makes you roll your eyes and cross your arms. “Listen, you may have everyone fooled but not me. And I’m not in the mood right now.” 

“I know,” he smiles again, this time showing his true intentions behind it. You were too smart for your own good and there was no point pretending. “But I figured now was as good a time as any.” 

“For?” 

“I propose an alliance between the two of us.” 

“You want an alliance with me? Why?” your eyes narrow and you’re even more weary of him. 

He was quiet for a moment, unsure of how to answer. What excuse could he say without giving away how he really felt? He didn’t want to admit that he actually felt bad and angered. No one should have ever broken your heart, much less someone like Duncan. But saying that out loud would mean having to admit how he felt. He wouldn’t. In a competition like this, feelings were a weakness. 

“To get back at Duncan, of course,” he answers. “If he sees us working together, it’ll irk him. Seeing you move on will definitely be a punch to the gut.” 

“Oh right, it’ll definitely be a punch to the gut when he’s making out with Gwen,” your voice cracks at the end, vision blurring. 

Alejandro’s heart wrenches at your sadness and anger bubbles in his chest. Duncan didn’t deserve you, not for a second. He abandoned you at the beginning of the competition and you just accepted him like it was nothing when he came back. He hated it and he hated you a little bit for it. Except now was his chance to get you to see him and forget about Duncan. 

He wraps an arm around your shoulders without thinking about it. Your pulled closer to him, facing him only inches away. “No offense, but you’re not exactly my type.” 

He laughs and gives you an ever so charming smile. “Don’t worry, that’s not my intention,” he lies. 

“And what are your intentions?” 

“It’s like I said, an alliance with you. Not only will it be revenge on Duncan but I’ll take you to the final two with me.” 

“Oh really? Why would you take me to the final two? I would’ve imagined you’d want someone like Heather.” 

“Heather? While she is lovely, she’s not my type. And I happen to like someone else,” he says, looking at you earnestly. 

Your heart skips a beat and you blame it on your bundled feelings. You push him away, making space between the two of you. Honestly, his deal sounded nice even if he ended up double crossing you. At least you could distract yourself from what Duncan and Gwen did. 

“Okay, on one condition. If you stab me in the back at any point, you vote yourself off.” 

He doesn’t even hesitate as he answers, all that matters is that he’s got you on his side. “Deal.” 

[linskywords]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to five other writers! 💗

Have you done this yet? If you haven't, you should! If you want!

Top five! Oh man that's so hard. Through great self-restraint I have narrowed it down to these five:

Burn Our Fingers and Change Our Names (Hockey. Bennguin. 44K. Werewolf AU, but not if you ask Tyler.) Ah, the wolfverse, my beloved. I could have chosen five just from there, but I went with this one because I think the pining is the most delicious. Also who can resist this level of cluelessness from Tyler?

Like You Have a Secret (Hockey. 1988. 34K. Kaner is a girl who disguises herself as a guy to join the NHL. Aka the She's the Man AU.) Outdated at this point in that no one in the story seems to consider the possibility of trans people, but still one of the most fun stories I've ever written, and also one of my favorite versions of Kaner. If I ever decide to take a hockey story and file off the serial numbers and try to sell it, this will be a candidate (with some major updates).

I Feel Like I've Been Locked Up Tight (Hockey. Bennguin. 34K. Jamie's a virgin who keeps falling hard for the wrong people.) This is the closest I've come to writing about my own demisexuality. This one's for everyone who can't figure out why they can't just date and hook up like everyone else seems to. (Turns out there are a lot of us in fandom!) It was like pulling teeth to get this one written and I'm so glad I persevered; it feels hard-won and honest to me.

Just to Break My Own Fall (Hockey. 1988. 9K. Kaner decides to move out of Trump Tower). This one is sort of a deep cut, but it feels like the other half of my own history of romantic anguish: the tendency to fall for friends and to learn to live with it but some times are harder than others. It's ostensibly about Kaner selling his condo and really about yearning for what you're not sure you'll ever get to have.

Someone Else's Solid Ground (Hockey. TK/Patty. 22K. Nolan struggles with gender.) This is the first really serious exploration of gender I've ever written. I always feel weird writing those, because I identify as cis, but also they speak to me in some way that maybe should make me reexamine that identification at some point. This one was prompted, for Yuletide, and I probably wouldn't have written anything like it otherwise, but it ended up feeling really powerful in a way I didn't expect.

Those are all pretty old--the most recent is from 2020--and I think that's because those stories feel "vetted" to me: I wrote them long enough ago that I could have stopped caring about them but I didn't. As a bonus, here are my top five from the past four years:

Where You Lead (Hockey. Jack/Nico. 42K. BDSM AU where there are no subs in the NHL, so Jack obviously isn't one.) It was a tossup between this and the sequel; I love them both dearly. This one really started something for me. I have at least three more stories I need to write in this 'verse now, and I doubt it'll stop there.

Wanna Love You in the Daylight (Hockey. Mitch/Auston. 107K. Wolfverse.) Again, probably arbitrary to call this my favorite of the recent wolfverse stories, but I reread it a while back and was just so happy with how it held up. It's the longest thing I've ever written, and very different in its pov character from most of my longer stories (Mitch might actually be...emotionally competent??), which makes it feel singular.

Don't Want You Like a Best Friend (Hockey. JD/TZ. 10K. Jamie doesn't understand that hooking up with Trevor might mean he's into guys.) Haha speaking of emotional competence: Jamie doesn't have it. This one was just a delight. Jamie's conversation with Rico makes me giggle looking back on it. This is one of those stories you're almost sad to have written because you want the experience of writing it again, over and over.

So Hey, Let's Be Friends (Hockey. Quinn/Brady. 4K. Brady has Quinn's name on his arm, but Quinn doesn't have Brady's.) I don't know that this is anyone else's favorite of mine, but it was an experiment for me -- can I write a whole pining journey in 4K? -- and I was so pleased with how it turned out. It's not perfect, but it felt almost miraculous to me.

The Jaws That Snatch (Scholomance. El/Orion but mostly a "what happens next" after Last Graduate. 5K.) Partially because I'm smug about getting the thing about [redacted] right, but mostly because it had people asking in the comments if I was sure I wasn't Naomi Novik. I'm carving those comments in stone, so I can be buried with them.

[babydollmarauders]

MEDIA MANAGEMENT — JACK HUGHES (PART FIFTEEN)

previous: fourteen

next: sixteen

y/ndevils00

liked by john.marino97, tmeier96, and 158,416 others

y/ndevils00 it was game night! i hope not too many broke your tv’s!

tonight was another 5-1 loss for your favorite spawns of satan, which unfortunately means the rags have a 2 win lead on us. we might be first round exits!

our only goal tonight was made by uncle Haula-back girl! and if you look, i got a picture of Pally’s little jump! 🥹 he was so excited! so happy for them!

bff number 1 (previously number 2) demanded i post more pictures of him, so he got to be the center of attention tonight with a picture of him smoldering AND a super cute, totally adorbs picture of him in a headlock! 🫶 so cute, bunny!

p.s. please enjoy jack watching his cocomelon <3

tagged john.marino97, dawson1417, tmeier96, ehaula, pally_18 nicohischier, and sharangovich17

ehaula thank you y/n/n!

pally_18 i didn’t know i could jump that high

john.marino97 i feel like that 6th picture could’ve been left out…

y/ndevils00 and i feel like it was too good to not post

john.marino97 i feel like i should hack your insta and delete it

y/ndevils00 i feel like maybe dawson would be back to best friend number 1 if you do that

dawson1417 so, hey john, i know her instagram password

user47 only one jack photo, no fun part of the caption dedicated to him, and she didn’t even tag him 🫠 did they breakup?!

user61 that’s what i was thinking too!

y/ndevils00 still together! just protesting his hair!

jackhughes @/y/ndevils00 i told you i’ll get it cut after playoffs!

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes not good enough.

nicohischier there’s still 5 games left! would it kill you to believe in us?

y/ndevils00 yes <3

nicohischier you know you work for us… right?

y/ndevils00 that just means i have to ROOT for you, not believe in you :)

nicohischier @/jackhughes you no longer have to worry about me stealing her

jackhughes i had to worry about that in the first place?!

lhughes_06 next game! i’m calling it!

y/ndevils00 we would’ve won if you were out there, smush! i know it!

lhughes_06 i appreciate the sentiment, squish! but we don’t know that for certain!

y/ndevils00 oh trust me, i know. and i know who you could’ve replaced too

john.marino97 @/y/ndevils00 care to share with the class? 🎤

y/ndevils00 @/john.marino97 i fear i’ve said too much

tmeier96 i made a post! i don’t really like the context of this post, but i made it!

y/ndevils00 see? everyone else should learn from timothy here! he’s just grateful to be included!

tmeier96 that’s actually not my name! it’s just timo!

y/ndevils00 no it’s not.

jackhughes yeah, bro, she doesn’t care. nice try, though!

dawson1417 damn i look good

y/ndevils00 i guess you don’t look like a drowned rat, i’ll give you that!

dawson1417 i’m scared to ask but, do i.. usually look like a drowned rat?

y/ndevils00 what? no! who would ever imply that?! 😧

jackhughes once again, i was not watching cocomelon!

y/ndevils00 i’ve seen your search history

jackhughes then you know i don’t watch cocomelon!

y/ndevils00 whatever you wanna tell the fans, baby 🫶

[munsonsmixtapes]

Teach Me

Steve x fem!bi!reader

word count: 5k

cw: MDNI 18+ smut (p in v), oral (m receiving), fingering (f receiving)

not proofread!

part one part two part three part four part five part seven part eight

Part Six: Lesson Five

The more you hung out with Steve, the more you were falling for him. Your thoughts were quickly only becoming about him and how much you liked him and how much you wanted to be with him. The old you would have thought you were pathetic, but the new you thought that you were maturing and that you were finally getting over your fear of getting close to him.

But you still couldn’t get yourself to admit how you felt to yourself, let alone Steve. It terrified you, even if you were sure he felt the same way. You knew exactly how it would play out, but anytime you tried to say something, nothing would come out.

The phone ringing pulled you out of your thoughts which was odd because no one ever called. You and Eddie raced for it and you didn’t know why you even tried because he always won. He beat you yet again and stuck his tongue out at you before picking up the phone.

“L/n residence, Eddie speaking,” he answered in a bubbly voice and grimaced at whatever the person was saying then held the phone out to you as if he was disgusted by it. “Please hold.”

“It’s for you,” he grumbled.

“Why are you upset? It’s my phone.”

“Because mine’s broken so I gave the girl I’m hooking up with your number.” That made sense since Eddie was never careful with his belongings.

“Who is it?”

“Who do you think?” He raised an eyebrow. “Two words: big hair.”

You rushed to the bathroom and brushed out your hair and Eddie put the phone on hold before following you.

“There’s no point in fixing your hair since he can’t see you, babe.” He then eyed the knot at the back of your head and held it up so you could see it. “Then again, maybe you should.”

You pushed him out of the way then headed back into the living area. You grabbed a chair that you could sit in then reached for the phone.

“Hi, Stevie,” you picked up and Eddie gagged at your flirty tone. You waved him off then moved back to the receiver since the chord didn’t reach that far, sitting in the chair.

“Hi,” Steve replied. He honestly didn’t know why he was calling you; he just wanted to hear your voice. He missed it despite hearing it at work the day before. “So this book,” he looked down at the one sitting on his lap. There was something to talk about. He was halfway through and would have been lying if he said he didn’t like it. He loved the drama and he had to admit that he enjoyed the smut. Maybe a bit too much.

“You like it, don’t you? I knew you would.” The only other person who you had loaned books to was Eddie and he already read the ones you had, so you were excited to have someone else to talk to.

“I can’t put it down. It’s addicting. And you’re right. I do see a little bit of myself in Bastian.”

“Of course you do.” It didn’t surprise you in the slightest. Steve was just like the titular pirate in so many ways, even including looks. It was so weird just how much they looked alike.

“Anyway, I was calling to see if you maybe…possibly wanted to come over?” He didn’t even know what he was saying. The words were coming out of his mouth before he could give approval.

“Come over?” You looked to Eddie as if to ask him what to do and he just nodded furiously as if to tell you to say yes. You didn’t know why you were asking him for his opinion since there was only one obvious answer. “I’d love to.”

“It’s a nice day so I figured we could hang out by the pool.” You couldn’t remember the last time you had gone to the pool since you didn’t really have time, so you were going to jump at the chance to plunge into the cold water.

“Sounds great. What time?”

“Is noon okay?” You looked at the digital clock in the kitchen and it was already ten. That didn’t give you much time to get ready, but you couldn’t wait any longer to see him.

“Noon is perfect.” You nodded even though he couldn’t see you and tried your best to fight the smile on your face.

“Bye y/n.”

“Bye Stevie.” You hung up the phone and Eddie just mimicked the smile on your face. For once, you were just too happy to hit him. He could make fun of you all he wanted, you didn’t care anymore.

You headed to your bedroom where Callie was sleeping and carefully opened your closet to look for your bikini that you hadn’t touched in years. You were concerned it wouldn’t fit, but maybe you’d have time to buy another if you worked quick enough.

You knew Steve wouldn’t have judged you for what you looked like, but you still felt like you needed to make a good impression. You wanted to look good. You needed to look good. If you looked good enough, maybe you’d finally get lucky.

You found the thing after digging around the containers in the bottom of the closet and had Eddie tie it for you since you couldn’t reach the back. Once you put the bottoms on, you turned this way and that, surprised that it still fit after all those years. It had a pretty floral pattern with colors that looked great against your skin.

“So, you’re going to watch Callie, right?” You turned to Eddie with a hopeful smile. He crossed his arms over his chest, clearly unimpressed. It was going to take a lot more than your cute smile to get him to agree to that one.

“Oh, so you can go fuck Harrington in his pool? What’s in it for me?” He always watched Callie for free and thought he at least deserved something since he had been watching her more often since you had been spending more time with Steve.

“The satisfaction of helping your friend should suffice.” You pat his shoulder then went to head to the kitchen to get some more coffee.

“Not so fast.” He grabbed your shoulder, preventing you from moving. He wasn’t letting you get away so easily.

“Fine,” you let out a sigh. “Name your price.” You should have known he’d try to get something out of you. He was always doing things for you so selflessly that you supposed he deserved something in return.

“That hot regular from Family Video, I want his number.” You figured he would have asked for more, so getting a guy’s number should have been a breeze. That was one of your specialties.

“Deal.”

“And, you have to let me drive your car while my van’s in the shop.” That one was a bit more tough, but it wasn’t his fault that his van broke down.

“Fine.”

“Jokes on you,” he laughed. “I would have done it for free.” You gave him a glare then turned on your heel and headed to the kitchen. Now that you had babysitting covered, you could focus on more important things like what you were going to wear over your swimsuit.

You felt your heart hammering in your chest as you poured yourself some more coffee. All you could think about was the fact that you were going to be hanging out with Steve outside of the contract. You were nervous to say the least. You hadn’t hung out with Steve outside of the agreement and you couldn’t help but wonder how it was going to play out. Maybe if you could get the confidence, you’d be able to tell him how you really felt about him.

After waiting around for what felt like too long, it was finally time for you to leave and you practically flew out the door in excitement. Sure, you had seen Steve the day before, but now you could talk to him for as long as you wanted without customers interrupting your conversation.

And you were going to swim in a pool that wasn’t the public one in town that everyone went to. This one was private and much more clean and you’d be there with Steve. Steve. The man was taking over your mind and it was driving you crazy. Couldn’t you have a single thought that didn’t involve him and his stupid pretty brown eyes or his dumb pretty pink lips that you wanted to kiss until you both were breathless?

Steve stood in the mirror, putting his shirt on and taking it off, trying to figure out the look he was going for. He wanted to impress you, but maybe opening the door without a shirt wasn’t the best idea. He didn’t want to seem like he was trying too hard. He was nervous and he knew exactly why. He was going to hang out with you. Alone. And it didn’t have anything to do with the agreement. Was it a date? Thinking about it only made him more nervous.

He finished fluffling up his hair as the doorbell rang, signaling that you had arrived. He threw his brush down on the counter and hurried down the hall to the stairs. He bounded down them and fixed his hair one more time in the mirror before ripping the door open and putting on his signature smile.

“Hey,” he greeted, opening the door wider so you could step inside.

“Hey, handsome.” You entered the house and couldn’t help but feel like something had changed. The tension between the two of you was different and you couldn’t figure out why. Okay, maybe you knew why, but you sure as hell weren’t going to ask if you were on a date. That would have just been embarrassing, especially if he had said no.

Steve led you inside and to the sliding glass door which he unlocked and opened with ease. He let you go first and had to hold back a gasp at how nice the set up was. The pool was in the very center, looking so pretty and blue and off to the side was a set of loungers with a couple of tables between them. One of the tables held a tray with an assortment of snacks and multiple beverages along with a pitcher filled with what looked like iced tea.

You laid your towel out on one of the loungers and sat down on it before digging into your bag for your sunscreen. You found it at the very bottom then set it beside you before slowly taking off your cover up.

What you didn’t see was Steve staring at you with his mouth agape. He always thought you were pretty, but seeing you like that, he couldn’t help but think about how beautiful you were. The way you were putting sunscreen on gave him a perfect view of your gorgeous legs as you extended one of them to put the cream on your calf. He was sure that he wasn’t going to be able to survive the day if you were going to continue to do things like that.

“Can you get my shoulders, Stevie?” You stood up from the lounger and held out the bottle to him.

“S-sure,” was all he was able to get out and you turned your back to him, moving your hair out of the way. He got some of the sunscreen onto his hand and grabbed onto your shoulder gently with his other. He began to rub it into your skin and you gasped at how cold it was at first. He couldn’t help but think about how his hands would feel in other places. How they would feel trailing down your body, inside your-

“Can I move this?” He referred to the strings that were tied together at your back, pulling you out of your naughty thoughts.

“Yes,” you nodded and pulled the strings away from your skin, moving his hand underneath it. The whole thing was nothing but torture for the both of you. He was trying so hard not to press kisses to your shoulders. Your exposed neck just looked so inviting that he had to refrain from giving it a suck until the skin was purple, eliciting moans from your pretty lips.

He finished up and you quickly turned to him, not being able to take it anymore. You grabbed him by his shirt and roughly pressed your lips to his. He let out a gasp but quickly melted into you, his hands moving to your waist. He closed the gap between you, his hands moving to your back as he did so.

Your arms moved to wrap around his neck, trying to get as close to him as possible. This wasn’t how you were expecting the day to go, but you sure as hell were going to enjoy it. You hadn’t kissed Steve since you had invited him over to borrow your book and you had missed his soft lips.

Steve pulled away just as you were about to deepen the kiss and licked his lips, only making them look more inviting. He then dove back in for more, his tongue finding his way into your mouth. His hands trailed down your back and slipped under the waistband of your swimsuit, right above your ass. You pulled back before you could get carried away and nodded your head towards the pool.

“Should we get in?” You really needed to cool off and it wasn’t because of the sun. You could feel your swimsuit bottoms getting wet and really needed to hide it.

“Sure,” Steve nodded and quickly pulled his shirt off, giving you a great view of his body. Your eyes moved to his chest, admiring the hair that adorned it. You were already regretting breaking your kiss, wanting to feel his chest hair beneath your hands.

He led you over to the pool and he took you by the hand as you stepped onto the first step. He moved further down into the water and you stood there, fear taking over you. You couldn’t remember the last time you went swimming and were suddenly terrified of drowning.

Steve dove into the water without another thought and surfaced only to realize that you hadn’t gotten in yet. You were still on the top step, a nervous look on your face. He made his way towards you and held out his hand.

“Hey, it’s alright,” he said softly as he approached you. “Take my hand, okay?” You slid your hand into it while the other rested on the small of your back. You slowly stepped down to the next stair, grabbing hold of the railing as you did so.

“That’s it,” he encouraged you. “You’re doing great, honey.” You planted your feet onto the pool floor then quickly moved back up to the last step.

“I can’t do it.” You shook your head vigorously. You weren’t even sure if you remembered how to swim and you didn’t want to find out if you could. You could practically imagine yourself drowning to the bottom of the pool while Steve tried to save you.

“Alright, tell you what,” he let go of you and held his arms out. “How about I hold you?”

“No way.” You shook your head again and he just stepped closer.

“I won’t drop you. You can trust me.” Knowing that Steve would hold you the whole time did make you feel better. You knew you’d be safe as long as you were in his arms.

“Do you trust me?” You did trust him, more than most people you knew. He’d never let you get hurt, that much was true just by how gentle he was with you. As if you were something fragile that would have broken at any second.

“Yes.” Steve stepped closer to you and grabbed hold of your thighs before wrapping your legs around your waist. His arms wrapped around your waist while yours went to his neck.

“See?” He asked, stepping away from the stairs. “I’ve got you.” He moved to the center of the pool, into direct sunlight that shone into his pretty brown eyes, making them look golden. You didn’t even know what you were to him, but being right there with him made you feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

“I know you do.” You rested your head on his shoulder while his hands rubbed up and down your back. You could have stayed like that forever and been content. Everything was so easy with Steve. There was no drama. He was just so sweet and kind and one of the only people who didn’t seem to care that you didn’t come from money or that you lived in a trailer.

You pulled back to look at him and your eyes slowly drifted to his lip, the water on them giving them a pretty sheen. You leaned forward and captured his bottom lip between your two. Your hands wound themselves into his hair as his tongue swiped along your bottom lip. You opened your mouth and his tongue roughly scraped against your own before it swirled around your mouth.

He stepped forward, keeping your lips attached. He kept moving until he had you pinned to the wall. Your legs wrapped tighter around his waist, locking your ankles at his back. Steve’s hands moved underneath your top as his lips moved down to your neck. He gave it a rough suck which elicited a gasp from your lips. His teeth grazed your skin and you let out a moan at the sensation. It was even prettier than he imagined and he did it again, harder that time.

You let out a louder moan which was followed by Steve diffusing the sting with his tongue before diving back in with his teeth. Your nails pressed into his back and he took that as an invitation to suck harder, causing you to let out a whimper.

“Should we just move this to the bedroom?” He asked, pulling away from you.

“I thought you’d never ask.” You removed your legs from his waist and the two of you climbed the ladder to get out of the pool. Steve reached for your towel and wrapped it around you before grabbing his. He then took you by the hand and led you to the stairs that you still hadn’t been up in the two times you had been over. Well, third time’s the charm, you supposed.

The two of you rushed up the steps despite being soaking wet and Steve pushed you into his room, slamming the door behind him. He removed your towels and let them fall to the floor before pulling you to him. His hands went to your face and yours moved to his waist, pulling him closer to you.

“I think I need a shower,” you said against his lips and he pulled away, his dick getting hard at the thought of you showering.

You felt so gross in your wet swimsuit and desperately needed to get out of it, not wanting to sleep with Steve in that state. Not when you were that uncomfortable. Not when you were feeling less than sexy.

“Right,” he nodded with a wink. “You want me to join?”

“Please do.” You hadn’t planned on showering with Steve, but the more you thought about it, the more you loved the idea. Thinking about seeing all of him made you even more wet than before. You needed him and you needed him right then.

Steve took you by the hand and led you down the hall to his bathroom. He shut the door then opened the shower door, turning on the water. The thing was so small that you weren’t sure that the both of you were going to fit into it.

He pressed his lips to yours once again, his hands moving up to the strings at your back. He untied them while you got the ones tied around your neck. You threw the top aside while Steve got a good look at you, his mouth falling open as he took in your practically naked body. As he gawked, you removed your bottoms then gestured to his with your eyes.

“Oh,” he chuckled. “Right.” He reached for his swim trunks and pulled them down, kicking them to the side. Your eyes trailed down to his cock and they widened as you realized that it was bigger than you imagined and you couldn’t help but think about how eager you were to have it inside you.

“You’re-“ he cut himself off, trying to find the right words. “Fucking amazing.”

“Are you going to gawk at me all night, handsome or are you going to take care of me?” You bat your lashes and that drove Steve wild. He pressed a rough kiss to your lips before opening the door to the shower.

“After you.” You stepped inside and he followed, closing the door behind him. You stood under the water, closing your eyes as it hit your scalp, loving the way it felt. You moved your hands into your hair to make sure it all got wet.

Steve just stood there, wondering how he got so lucky as to have his dream woman in his shower looking hotter than ever. You pulled him under the water and his lips found yours, his tongue immediately entering your mouth. Your lips wrapped around it, giving it a suck causing a whimper to escape his throat. You continued to suck on his tongue, harder, eliciting a pretty moan from his mouth.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Think you could do that to my cock?”

“Your wish is my command.” You lowered yourself to your knees and took no time to take him into your mouth, your tongue swiping across the tip before swirling around it. You gave it a hard suck and Steve’s hands moved to your hair, giving it a yank in response to his pleasure. You took him further into your mouth and sucked harder, even though your eyes were watering. You just wanted to make him feel good.

“So good, honey,” he whined. “So so good.” You replaced your mouth with your hand and gave his cock a couple of pumps while you looked him in the eyes, swallowing dramatically.

“You like that, baby?” You asked, pumping harder and his head fell back against the wall as he let out one more moan. You pressed an open mouthed kiss to the spot right under his belly button then moved all the way up until you were at his lips again. You stuck your tongue into his mouth and it was his turn to suck on it, causing you to make the exact same noise that he did.

“Hey, that’s my move,” you glared.

“Sorry, honey.” His hands moved to your shoulders. “Just needed to thank you for your great work.” He almost wanted to tell you that it was the best blowjob he ever had.

“I think I need a little more.” You batted your eyelashes again and he grabbed onto your hips.

“Alright, then come here,” he beckoned you forward. “Give me some sugar, sugar.” Your mouth was back on his in an instant and you stuck your tongue back into his mouth, letting him suck on it once again. His hands moved down your back until they found your ass, giving it a light squeeze, making you let out a little yelp.

You turned your back to him to get under the water again and Steve moved behind you, pressing his chest against your back. One hand rested on your hip while the other moved forward towards your cunt before thrusting his fingers inside it.

“Oh,” you let out a noise at the sensation. He pumped in and out slowly, taking his name to make you feel as good as you made him feel. “Oh, Steve,” you moaned and he dug his fingers further into your pussy.

“That’s right, honey. Gonna make you feel so good.” He pumped faster and you moaned even more, letting your head fall back against his shoulder.

“Already making me feel so good,” you whined. “Need you, Steve.”

“You have me, baby,” he replied, pumping even harder.

“No,” you whined. “I need your cock.” Steve removed his fingers from your pussy and turned you around to face him.

“That can be arranged,” he smiled before placing his lips on yours. “C’mon, honey. Let’s get dried off and we can go to town.”

“We didn’t even shower.” You let out a laugh.

“We were busy.” He shrugged and reached around you to turn the water off. He then pressed a kiss to your forehead and stepped out of the shower. Once you were both out, he grabbed a towel from under the sink and wrapped it around you before getting one for himself. You both dried off and Steve gathered up your wet swimsuits before leading you back to his room.

As soon as you were inside, you removed your towels and Steve pulled you to him, his lips capturing yours in a bruising kiss. It was rough and messy, Steve just taking whatever he wanted and you let him, pliant to his every move.

His tongue slipped into your mouth, roaming around it as if he was looking for something as his hands moved to your back, his arms wrapping around your waist as he began to back up to the bed. He pulled away once he got to the edge and moved so you were the one standing at the foot of it. Your legs hit the edge of the mattress and Steve slowly laid you down on to it, keeping your lips connected as he did so.

As soon as you were comfortable, he reached for a condom and ripped the packet open before rolling the thing onto his cock. Once he was situated, he slowly pushed into you, his hands holding onto your hips. This was the farthest thing from what you usually enjoyed, but you had to admit that you were starting to appreciate the soft and sweet side of sex.

Steve pumped slowly into you as you moved to hold onto him as you let out a moan. Your arms wrapped around his back and your head fell backwards at the pleasure you were feeling.

“That’s it, babygirl, let it out,” he said softly as he continued to pump in and out of your pussy.

“Stevie,” you moaned. “So good.” Your nails dug into his back in reaction to the pleasure which made him pumped a little faster in response. For once, that wasn’t what you wanted. You liked how slow he was going, as if he had all the time in the world. Like he wanted to enjoy it as opposed to just getting it over with like the other people you slept with did. You wanted it to be a night to remember.

“I know, honey. Feels so good to be inside you. You’re taking me so well.” Hearing those words made you even more wet than before. He always knew the exact right words to make you feel good.

“Softer, baby,” you whined. “Don’t want it hard right now.”

“As you wish.” He immediately went softer, but was still moving quickly and you let out yet another moan at his movement. “Sound so good, honey. And you look so pretty underneath me.”

“Can’t believe we waited so long to do this.” You really couldn’t. You had wanted him for weeks and now that had him, you couldn’t see yourself with anyone else.

“I know, and if you play your cards right, we can make it a regular thing.” You liked that idea. You liked that idea a lot. You could just imagine it, him making love to you practically every night then the two of you would snuggle up in his bed and talk about everything and nothing before falling asleep in each other’s arms.

“Sounds good to me.” Steve lowered himself onto you and pressed a sweet kiss to your lips.

“Got some more in you, baby?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yes, Stevie. Rock my world.” He continued to pump in and out, eliciting multiple moans from you until you reached your peak. It was the loudest moan that Steve had ever heard and his dick hardened even more at hearing it.

After one more loud moan, Steve pulled out and disposed of the condom before helping you clean yourself up. No one had ever done that for you before since you always insisted on doing it yourself. He was sweet the entire time, telling you how well you did and how much he enjoyed it. No one had done that either. They usually left before it got to that part and you liked that Steve was there for you every step of the way.

Once you were both cleaned up, Steve changed into a t-shirt and a pair of boxers before offering you his entire wardrobe. He wanted you to be as comfortable as possible, especially after giving him the best sex of his life.

“Wear whatever you want, honey. I’m gonna go throw our swimsuits in the washer, okay?” He pressed a kiss to your temple then gathered the wet pile from the floor before fleeing the room.

You looked over your options and couldn’t help but think about what it would have been like to be Steve’s girlfriend. You could wear his clothes whenever you wanted, you could even come over whenever you wanted and take advantage of his pool. Callie totally would have loved that.

You settled on one of his bigger t-shirts and sat on his bed, trying not to seem so awkward. You never stayed after sex. You couldn’t. Because that would have led to cuddling and you definitely didn’t like doing that. You didn’t like getting attached to people because that always meant that they could leave and you couldn’t let that happen so you always left first.

But Steve was different. You knew he would never leave you no matter what. He already knew about your fucked up family and that you lived in a trailer and this were usually the things that sent people packing. Why, you didn’t know.

Steve came back into the room in a flash and made a beeline for the bed, flopping down onto it. He grabbed onto your waist as he fell, taking you with him, causing the both of you to fall backwards onto the mattress. You both erupted into a fit of giggles as you landed on top of him. He wrapped his arms around you and you snuggled into his chest as your laughter fizzled out.

“Do you want to stay the night?” He asked as his hands rubbed lazy circles along your back.

“Stevie,” you laughed then turned to look at the clock that was on his desk. “It’s only three.”

“So?” He shrugged. “I need to spend all the time I can with you.”

“Alright,” you kissed the tip of his nose. “I’ll stay, but only because I need to spend all the time I can with you too.”

“Good, now give me some sugar. I’ve missed your lips.” You rolled your eyes and pressed your lips to his in a sweet kiss before pulling away. “Nope,” he shook his head. “Need a little more.”

“Are you always this needy?”

“Oh, honey, you have no idea.” You leaned down and gave him another kiss, this one longer. Your lips moved together for a few seconds before you pulled away. Steve leaned up to chase your lips but you just pushed him back down.

“Just can’t get enough, can you?” You winked.

“Not at all,” he shook his head. “I got one little taste and now I’m addicted.” Those were probably the most flattering words anyone has ever said to you and you buried your face into his chest to hide your blush.

“Alright, enough of that,” he gave your back a pat. “I need some cuddles now.” You liked the sound of that, being cuddled up in Steve’s arms and feeling so comfortable that you fell asleep. “But I should let you know that I’m the little spoon.”

“Good, because I’m the big spoon.” You moved off of Steve and he flipped onto his side, his back facing you. You scooted closer to him and draped an arm over his waist, his hand covering yours. You then pressed a kiss to his cheek before laying your head on one of the pillows, feeling your eyelids getting heavy. You easily drifted off to the best sleep you ever had, dreaming of nothing but the man who was wrapped up in your arms.

[fuckingstarellie]

1. The Bet

how (not) to get the college rockstar girl

infos: college au! ellie williams x reader (fem oc)

contains: fluff, smut, slow romance, comedy, some lame jokes, angst, swearing/cursing, ellie being super hyper mega hot, oc extremely correct and stubborn.

chapter summary: Alexia and Dina make a bet which in the end causes Alexia to lose, Dina tells a lie.

Alexia was in the college dorm, studying modern languages in college and preparing for a project that was requested by one of the professors, her moment of peace is interrupted when her roommate and best friend Dina opens the door making a very loud noise in the dorm

“Hey Alexia, guess who I just saw walking down the main hallway?” — Dina said excitedly as she threw herself on her own bed.

“well let me think…i don't know dee, i have to do this damn job and i just can't think of anything else!” — Alex replied

“Lexi I think you need to relax, being locked in the dorm forcing yourself to do something that you definitely can't develop right now isn't going to do any good”  

the blonde haired girl sighed before turning her body around in that rolling chair and then facing Dina — “ yes, I think you're right, but hey, will you say who you saw in the main hallway or not?” — alexia arched one of her eyebrows curiously.

“let's say halfway there maybe I saw Jesse standing in front of one of those snack machines” — started Dina — “and he was like OH MY GOOD FUCK so handsome, he just kind of winked at me and i panicked, and well now i'm here”

"WHAT? Did Jesse wink at you? Like the same Jesse who's in a band with fucking Ellie Williams?” — Alex replied her friend with wide eyes.

“Is what I'm saying Alex, the guy I've had a crush on for years just winked at me!” — the brunette was gesticulating with her hands quickly, this was one of Dina's frequent quirks.

“This is fucking crazy, you should ask for his number, just a guess” — Alex got up to organize the mess of books he had left on the dorm desk.

“what? no he is jesse he wont give me his number” — Dina shrugged

“with all due respect Dina but fuck you, the guy just winked at you, he's clearly interested so you go and get his fucking number!” — said alex in indignation.

“what? Alex, it would be really embarrassing to be dumped by him, I'm just trying to avoid embarrassing myself knowing it could go wrong” 

“I still think you should give it a try, Jesse seems like a nice guy, we don't see him around with many girls and well...you're beautiful, there's no way he won't give you his number!” — Alexia knows that although many guys hit on Dina, she is still insecure about some things. 

“oh ok Alex you won. if i can't get jesse's number you have to try to get a kiss from miss williams heartbreaker” — replied dina defiantly.

“is it like that? well done! I know you'll come back here with that guy's number so I don't even have to worry” — Alex shrugged confidently that he would win.

a few hours later

"and then?" — asked curious alex — “did you get his number?”

Dina put on her best sad face and shook her head.

“WHAT?” — Alex stared at her friend completely shocked.

“he just replied to me - sorry but no - when i asked for his phone number” — Dina replied. — “So Alexia...I think you just lost a bet”

what Dina hadn't told Alex is that she actually got Jesse's number, but the brunette would LITERALLY do anything to see Alex go after the red-haired Williams, even lie...

n/a: Well, this is the first chapter and it also tells how Alexia got into this whole thing that could go very wrong or very right! Hope you like it

English is not my native language, sorry if there are some mistakes (correct me please), chapter not proofread!

MASTERLIST

[firthbetterorfirthworse]

Pride & Prejudice, Atlanta (2019)

Mrs Bennet introduced her daughters in adorable narration. She is obsessed with getting her girls married. Interestingly enough, Jane has been widowed with two kids. Lizzy is an activist.

She's against Antwon Tibbets, a developer who wants to tear down a local mall, and overhears him advising Darcy to steer clear of her. He's running for congress.

Bingley is a golfer, but is adorable with Jane and her kids.

Bingley invites Jane over for a date, which is apparently riding horses. She falls off and sprains her ankle. Lizzy shows up to pick her up but her car is broken down a bit away. Darcy invites them both to stay for a few days until his mechanic can fix it up. Bingley says Caroline can help her dress for the party (it's a skimpy number, and Lizzy is uncomfortable)

Lydia is out doing tinder dates and just met Wickham.

Lizzy and Darcy had some banter, but then she got into it with him about how she thinks he's just swooping in and coasting on politics instead of actually wanting to make a real difference in the community.

And guess who shows up? Stephen Collins! Fresh from divinity school. The Lord has revealed to him that he is destined to take over as pastor of Reverend Bennet's church - when he retires, of course. And as a pastor he should take a wife. Maybe Jane? Oh, she's taken, how about Lizzy?

Lizzy hears this last bit and is like OH LYDIA YOU NEED A RIDE I'LL TAKE YOU LET'S GO and ends up at the club, meeting Wickham. He says he turned his mom was a Darcy maid and they adopted him when she died, but he turned his back on all the Darcy money for integrity. Darcy of course has none and is in big with the developers who have deep pockets, trust Wickham.

At a campaign event, she brings up his brother and he says he's not worried about it. Bingley says he's won a silent auction for a trip to Paris and he's taking Jane! Darcy pulls him aside for a private talk that ends with "just think about it".

Collins asks Lizzy out and she very much turns him down. But then Charlotte starts flirting with him from across the room.

Bingley sends a TEXT to Jane that's like hey we should slow things down, I just entered the Singapore open and I'm not into long distant relationships. (boooooo)

Time jump - it's months later and Lizzy has enough signatures to get the mall declared a historic landmark. And Charlotte is engaged to Collins and has been for a while! She asks for Lizzy to help give her courage as she goes to meet Collins' patron - Darcy's aunt. Darcy is there too!

While he's out of the room, his aunt talks about how he separated his friend from some baby mama who was probably just after him for another child support check. Lizzy storms out and insults Darcy in the process, not really letting him talk as he tries to explain. To compound her shitty day, her application to make the mall a historic landmark is denied and they're going to tear it down.

I do appreciate that for all her rolling her eyes at her mom, they do actually have a loving and caring relationship. She confides in her mom about her doubts, and her mom reassures her that she's not a failure. It's a sweet moment.

She's decided to fight for the theatre, at least. Tibbets shows up and is pissed that Lizzy keeps delaying things, and she overhears Tibbets argue with Darcy that they had a deal, campaign support in exchange for backing development projects, but Darcy insists he would never make such a deal. Except Lizzy has to leave because Lydia is pregnant, and it's a minor scandal since she's a reverend's daughter. Lydia is like whatever it was supposed to be casual, plus his company is bankrupt. I don't want to reach out to him, what if I want him and he doesn't want me back? But they all come together to support Lydia, whatever it is she decides to want (love that)

Turns out Darcy helped him buy a place, because he wants to give it a go. Wickham says he's not gonna mess up his chance with Lydia like Bingley did with Jane. Bingley and Darcy have a heart to heart and Darcy is like if you're still thinking about her, go see her. Bingley drags Darcy along.

Wickham goes to Reverend Bennet and says he needed time to get his act together. He confesses that Darcy gave him the money but he's gonna buy him out in time. Wickham is about to propose but Lydia is like hang on, let's see how this goes. Mrs Bennet has character growth and doesn't push the issue!

Bingley comes around to Jane and confesses that he made the biggest mistake of his life leaving her, that what Darcy warned him about was that with kids in the picture he should not hang around unless he was willing to be serious about the future. Jane agrees to forgive him (also Lizzy overheard)

Lizzy hears that Darcy is outside and goes to him. Turns out Darcy bought the theatre outright and is donating it to the historical society. Their Moment is interrupted by Mrs Bennet announcing Jane's engagement.

The next morning, Aunt Darcy wakes Lizzy up in the morning and is like are you in love with my nephew? She's like yeesh what happened, did he avow his love for little old me? And Aunt Darcy says nothing so her eyes get real wide. Aunt Darcy is telling her that she will ruin Darcy's political career and even threatens her dad's career as a reverend if she continues to mess around with Darcy.

She goes to see her dad, who tells her to follow her heart. Her dad calls Darcy, who chews out his aunt.

Darcy and Lizzy find each other, and they profess their love and kiss.

The movie ends with a double wedding of Jane and Lizzy. Hooray!

I actually really enjoyed this version! It didn't feel as contrived as so many modern versions do.

[sohemotional]

That Don't Impress Me Much - A Brittana Fic

Summary: The blonde dancer totally knew the effect she had on her. It was so easy to rile the dark-haired woman up and as she beckoned her closer with a finger, Santana kept gazing at her lips, making it so obvious what she wanted.

She leaned closer, knowing that Santana would feel her breathing against her neck and as she expected, there was a sharp, aroused intake of breath from the Latina.

She even closed her eyes, puckering her lips as if Brittany was going to kiss her.

As if.

“My name is no. My sign is no. My number is no. You need to let it go.”

Or

Brittany is tired of being taken advantage of by selfish, egotistical jerks, so she makes a plan with her friend Tina that she can make some idiot fall for her and then ditch them after she has had her fun. Her plans backfire when she’s swept off her feet by arrogant yet surprisingly sweet celebrity Santana Lopez.

Rating: M

Read More on AO3

***This is a companion piece to my other Brittana AU fic, "My Name Is No (You Need To Let It Go),” which you can find here on tumblr or on AO3

Brittany had just about had enough of fuckboys and fuckgirls. 

There she was, sitting alone in a crummy little diner, all by her lonesome on Saturday night, her date nowhere to be found. Being the only hot, young blonde in fishnets, heels so high she was close to God, and a skirt so short it was probably illegal while surrounded by desperate bikers and hicks who licked their lips as they leered at her should have made her feel like she was walking through the valley of the shadow of death. Or maybe she should have felt the way those fish in her dad’s aquarium felt that time Lord Tubbington took up scuba diving as his new hobby. 

Instead, Brittany was unfazed. As she water-skied down the highway of life, she had seen it all. 

That one old Dolly Parton song her mother and Grandma Rose from St. Olaf used to like so much was playing in the background now. It made her pretty nostalgic for the good old days in the Pierce house. Sometimes Brittany felt this one should have been the soundtrack to her life, if she ever had to choose a replacement for “Candy” by Cameo.

Don't try to cry your way out of this

Don't try to lie or I'll catch you in it

Don't try to make me feel sorry for you

Just because I'm blonde

Don't think I'm dumb

Cause this dumb blonde ain't nobody's fool

When you left you thought I'd sit

An' you thought I'd wait

An' you thought I'd cry

You called me a dumb blonde

Ah, but somehow I lived through it

And you know if there's one thing this blonde has learned

Blondes have more fun

There was nothing Brittany loved more than sex and she knew she was the best. Hoeing was her hobby. If there were competitions for this, she would have won the Olympic Gold medal. In fact, she had won the kissing competition in Lima five years in a row easily, if that meant anything. 

Sure fuckboys and fuckgirls were kinda fun, especially when she got them in bed for the fucking part of things but a girl needed some romance in her life too. 

After the first few times, she was over them. No one could hold her interest and it seemed like she never held theirs. To them, she was always just stupid bimbo slut Brittany. Good for an easy lay but not for a relationship. 

Sure she knew she was hot but Brittany was beginning to wonder why she was never the girl who got flowers or love confessions and marriage proposals made to her. She was never the girl who got her happily ever after.  

All she wanted was a cowboy to ride her off into the sunset. 

“Tina, he just left me,” She sobbed into the phone as she heard Mike muttering something to his girlfriend in the background that vaguely sounded like him asking where Brittany was. “I’m at the Little Alien Inn!”

So now she was crying because she got ditched again. 

“Bad bitches don’t cry.” 

At least, that was what Tina told her when she and Mike stopped by to take her home but Brittany wasn’t so sure she was a bad bitch at that moment. 

Mike and Tina each grabbed one of her arms, all about dragging her out of the diner in her bra and skirt when she had started to take off her clothes and perform a strip show on top of a table as she often did. 

“You must think I’m such a mess.” Brittany sobbed, mascara running down her cheeks. Tina and Mike who were accustomed to picking up Brittany from sleazy bars and motels weren’t particularly surprised by any of this. 

“Oh Britt, it’s not you. It’s that vile idiot. You don’t need any of them! Just be your hot girl self. You’re an independent woman who don’t need no man or woman! Hot girl summer and all that.” 

Brittany wasn’t so sure about that at the moment. She felt like a codependent woman who was very much in need of a man or woman. 

“Maybe Room Temperature Girl Summer?” 

Tina shook her head, a long-suffering expression on her face, snorting out an incredulous, unladylike laugh as she passed another tissue to the blonde. She was so accustomed to Brittany’s oddball personality that she had come to expect comments like that from her. Apparently noticing that her tall, blonde friend was moping the night away on their couch with a pout on her face, she took pity on her. 

“Here’s an idea: make a game out of it. Make some fuckboy go all crazy for you next time and then you ditch them when you’ve had your fun and laugh in their face.” 

“Oh this, I’d pay to see.” Mike chimed in from across the room. 

A mischievous smile tugged at the corners of Brittany’s lips as she thought her friends were making a good point. 

That night, something hardened inside of her and changed for her.

Tina was right, it was time she had some more self-respect and Brittany began to realize how much more she was worth than just a quick lay in the backseat of someone’s car until they moved on to the next girl. 

——

She got her confidence back pretty quickly because if there was one thing about Brittany it was that she didn’t stay depressed for long.  

So the next week she was slinking around The Pussy Cat with feline-like confidence and agility, ignoring the men who gawked at her, hissing and cat-calling as she passed by. She didn’t have a care in the world. 

Who cared about girlfriends and boyfriends? She was just there to have fun with her friends. So that’s what she was going to do. 

She was having such a great time that she really did forget about her troubles.

Then she felt her burning gaze on her from across the room. The stranger in question was a Latina with black hair, equally dark eyes, glowing dark skin, and a very slim but toned build. Her long hair fell in perfectly tousled dark waves. 

She didn’t take her eyes off of Brittany once and had her jaw dropped as she took in the sight of the blonde. The blonde had never seen such a clear demonstration of “undressing someone with your eyes” in action.

Brittany couldn’t deny that the woman had this powerful, commanding aura about her. 

She paid absolutely no mind to it, humming to herself as she twirled around and rolled her body perfectly in time with the beat. Then she sauntered back to her friends, giggling to herself as she thought of something her cat had done the night before. 

Sugar tapped her on the shoulder. 

“Oh Britt, you’ve got another admirer. That one is checking you out so hard. She looks like she’s drooling. I can see her boner from over here… ” 

Brittany’s friends began to snicker obnoxiously. The blonde smirked and shrugged. It was super obvious that the painfully horny brunette was checking her out the entire time, muttering “Humina, humina,” but Brittany wasn’t bothered one way or another.

“Oh, okay. I just want to dance.” 

Tina, Sugar, Marley, and the others were gawking at her. Sugar eventually piped up.  

“Don’t you know who that is?! It’s Santana Lopez.”

“Who?”

“Brittany! How do you not know? She’s a celebrity! She was on Bad Girls Club.”

“Oh.”

“She’s openly lesbian too.”

“No duh. I could tell,” Brittany stated dryly, remembering how that woman had stared at her legs and ass. Come to think of it, Santana was still doing that. Brittany shook her head, rolling her eyes fondly at her friend. Sugar was always trying to matchmake her with someone and that girl knew everything about celebrities. She looked down at her nails, inspecting the pale pink polish on them while she knew Santana was checking her out again. “Uh, whatever. So not interested.” 

She definitely wasn’t looking for anyone that night but if she managed to torment them, then that was a bonus. Men and some women always seemed to assume that if Brittany was dancing, it meant she was looking for a partner. 

“What’s all that noise?” Brittany spoke up, hearing a bit of a commotion. “It’s kind of annoying.” 

It turned out that the woman who had been checking her out was being totally loud and obnoxious now. She laughed really loudly, banging her fist on the table and being a total show-off. She threw back drinks until she was visibly red in the face. Then she started to sing as she got up on the table, drawing a crowd until some short woman with a serious expression pulled her back down before she embarrassed herself. She clearly thought she was so desirable and hot. 

She probably thought that Brittany didn’t notice how she kept sneaking glances in her direction. A sly smirk came to Brittany’s lips. This woman was such a goofy dork and she was extremely obvious. Brittany had never seen someone who tried so, so hard and was so painfully lacking in self-awareness. 

It was almost cute. 

Brittany knew this woman’s type just from looking at her. She was also a little psychic. 

She could tell this stranger was such a stereotypical arrogant womanizer with an ego the size of a small planet and thought of women as nothing more than warm bodies. She was so vain, she probably looked at herself in every reflective surface she passed. She was so selfish and spoiled that she thought the world revolved around her. 

She was totally Brittany’s type. 

She didn’t need her though. She was done with playboys forever. 

At least that’s what she told herself when she followed her friends over to the bar. She taken a few sips from the strawberry daiquiri in her hand when she began to blink in confusion as a margarita was placed in front of her. 

“It’s from that lady over there. She sent this and she asked me to tell you that you’re stunning.” 

“Aw, that’s sweet. Tell her I’m so not interested.” Brittany quipped with a sassy flip of her long wavy hair. 

Brittany glanced over her shoulder to see Santana waving and giving her this smug smile that made these stupid, cute dimples deepen on both of her cheeks.

Tina and her other friends were just watching her with amusement as Brittany continued to ignore Santana. All of her friends clearly found this so hilarious, though they were supporting her in her decision to completely ignore all the perverts and fuckboys who were trying to get her. 

“Wow, Santana’s really going for it. Looks like someone’s dying for your attention.” Mike chuckled. 

“Ugh, here we go. I so don’t care. She’s just horny. Why do they always see a woman sitting alone and assume she wants a companion?” The sass was dripping from Brittany’s voice as she tossed her hair back over her shoulder and curled her lip, ignoring the drink Santana sent her. “Newsflash, no thanks.” 

Santana kept giving her the eye no matter how much Brittany made it clear that she wasn’t going to fall into her arms. Ugh, Brittany rolled her eyes with exasperation and amusement, couldn’t Ms. Egotistical take a hint?

Apparently not. 

“Oh don’t look now, here she comes. She got it bad.” Sugar snorted as everyone began to chuckle at the sight of Santana Lopez swaggering over with her shoulders thrown back.

Brittany had to hand it to her, the woman was the only one who had been brave enough to approach her like this all night. 

Too bad the blonde was so not in the mood. 

Brittany was feeling bitchy. She knew the routine by now. They all wanted to know her name, her number, her sign… Brittany was curious about whatever sleazy pick-up line Ms. Arrogant was going to give her and she didn’t disappoint. 

Santana had this stupid, cute cheesy smirk on her face and her teeth were gleaming white. 

She was so typical Hollywood sleaze.  

“Hi. You’re gorgeous,” Okay, she was starting off being a little charming with that opening line, Brittany had to admit but she just knew the sleaze would be coming next. “Dayum, Girl. Where’d you learn to dance like that? Who you dancing like that for looking all hot like that?”

Not for you, Jerk :) That’s for sure. 

“What I want to know is, what time them legs open?” 

Like I haven’t heard that one a million times before… 

It was so lame. Even though she was in stunned disbelief, Brittany couldn’t help but notice Santana now and she gave it back to her with a sassy comeback of her own. 

“Oh, is that supposed to be a pick up line?” 

Brittany was beginning to wonder if Santana had ever actually flirted with a woman before, far less managed to pick up one. There was a flash of lust in her dark eyes when Brittany said that and she looked as if she was about to combust on the spot. 

“So, you know, I’m on top of things. Would you like to be one of them?”

Brittany could barely hold back her laugh, cupping a hand over her mouth as she rolled her eyes. Santana continued to puff up her chest and peacock around her, as if she expected Brittany to be totally impressed. 

“Ooo, is it hot in here, or is it just you?”

She could not be for real. This was the great, powerful celebrity Santana Lopez her friends were in awe of? She really thought she was charming the dress off of Brittany with those corny lines.

Brittany couldn’t wait to tell Tina about this later. She knew her friend would be laughing about it forever. 

“Ooo, I’m in trouble.”

Santana as always, was unfazed by Brittany’s ice cold, dismissive attitude. The preppy blonde decided to tease her even more, getting close and poking her finger into Santana’s chest confidently. Brittany couldn’t deny that the way Santana’s eyebrows rose and her lips parted as if she was flustered by the blonde invading her personal space amused her to no end. 

“Oh that’s how it is, huh? What’s your name, Pretty Girl?” 

Anytime Brittany was snippy towards her, the woman looked at her with obvious arousal written all over her face. She was pushing back her dark hair, trying so, so hard to look all cool and suave but she had this stupid, goofy look of excitement on her face that made it difficult for Brittany not to start giggling. She had to cover her hand over her mouth as she laughed in her face. 

The more Brittany acted all aloof and mysterious, the more she turned on Ms. Egomaniac. She swore she saw the woman clenching her thighs together when Brittany gave another sassy response to her. 

Brittany had been one of the most popular cheerleaders at school and homecoming queen. She knew how to handle vain, uncouth Santana Lopez types. 

Except she had never met anyone quite as hot as Santana before. 

Now that she was so physically close to Santana, she couldn’t stop herself from checking the girl out, noticing that she was slightly shorter than her with a toned, slim build that the simple black dress she was wearing displayed so well. Brittany couldn’t help but notice the slight muscle tone in her arms and how radiant her brown skin was. 

Santana gave her another smug look, as if she could tell that Brittany liked what she saw. Whatever. If she thought Brittany was just going to give in to her, she had another thing coming. 

If there was one thing Brittany knew, it was flirting. 

She learned it straight from her blonde, buxom mother, the original harlot and heartbreaker of Lima in her day before she had settled down. If she wanted to, she could get this girl into bed, easy as ABC. 

Brittany didn’t even have to try and that’s exactly why she wasn’t gonna let her get what she wanted so easily. 

The blonde dancer totally knew the effect she had on her. It was so easy to rile the dark-haired woman up and as she beckoned her closer with a finger, Santana kept gazing at her lips, making it so obvious what she wanted. 

She leaned closer, knowing that Santana would feel her breathing against her neck and as she expected, there was a sharp, aroused intake of breath from the Latina.

She even closed her eyes, puckering her lips as if Brittany was going to kiss her. 

As if.

“My name is no. My sign is no. My number is no. You need to let it go.”

She couldn’t stop giggling at the sight of Santana frozen in place with her lips sticking out, clearly not expecting this turn of events as Brittany just sang that song to her. 

No kisses for you, Hot Shot, She smiled to herself. 

Talk about embarrassing. How was Ms. Big Shot Movie Star ever gonna recover from that one? 

Brittany was a professional dancer and she could easily outdo everyone in the club but that didn’t seem to stop Santana from trying to keep up with her. She began to dance beside her energetically as Temperature by Sean Paul played. 

“You’re cocky. That’s how you dance?” Brittany was in stunned disbelief yet again, amused by the way Santana was being so ridiculous. She was clearly trying so hard to impress her and it was having the opposite effect. Santana was being such a clown and people around them were starting to give them strange looks. 

“You like that, huh, Babe?” The woman was all up on her, her arm settling around her waist as she husked into her ear. “You want all up on this, don’t you? I’ll make you feel so good, Princess. Trust me. I’ll make you scream my name.” 

Santana’s voice was so hazy and raspy. Brittany felt heat rush to her face, right up her neck to her ears, shocked by what she heard… and kind of intrigued. Santana couldn’t really think Brittany would give in just from that locker room talk. She didn’t want Santana to see how affected she was by her comment but of course, Santana saw everything. 

Apparently the woman noticed the blush on Brittany’s face too and she was amused. 

“Is that so?” She challenged, making sure to flutter her eyelashes.

“You bet. I think we should get to know each other better. Preferably with way less clothes on.”

Was that the best Santana had? 

“Hmm, oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? What else?”

“Roses are red, violets are fine. You be a six and I’ll be a nine.”

Santana might have been the funniest person to ever exist. She couldn’t be for real. 

“Mm hm. Is that all?” 

The celebrity began to tell her all about what she wanted to do with her when she got her in bed, making her appreciation for Brittany’s ass obvious. She wasn’t expecting her to grind up on her like that. The feeling of Santana’s hips moving against hers and her husky voice against her ear made it kind of hard for her to remember that she wasn’t supposed to give in to her.

She was such a horny jerk and Brittany’s jaw dropped in disbelief at how crude she was being as the blush in her cheeks intensified.

Santana was just a little too excited, acting as if she was entitled to getting into Brittany’s pants and that just wouldn’t do. At least not until Brittany was ready for that. If she decided she wanted her. Brittany was gonna have to remind her to back off a little until she wined and dined her enough - if Brittany deigned to allow her to. 

She wagged a finger. 

“Nuh uh. I don’t think so.” 

She needed to extract herself from Santana’s arms. So she raised her knee the way she saw on a TV show about women defending themselves from muggers and got her right up in the area between her legs. 

Not in a fun way either. 

Santana’s eyes went comically wide in stunned disbelief and she took a tumble on her ass. 

“Did I do that? Oops! My Bad!” She giggled with faux-innocence, not meaning a word of it. 

Brittany walked back over to her friends victoriously as they clapped and cheered for her. In fact, almost the entire club had stopped to watch the whole spectacle as Santana struggled to regain her dignity. 

“Brittany, I am so proud of you. You are the ultimate boss, oh my God!” Tina congratulated her then turned back to her phone. “Santana Lopez getting clamslammed and kneed right in the vagina by a mystery woman is already trending on Twitter.” 

“You’re not leaving with her?” Sugar looked shocked when the blonde waltzed over, making her exit. Brittany not going home with someone, especially someone like Santana, was about as rare as a blue moon.  “This never happens. She’s just your type. She’s rich, super famous, good-looking, shallow, dumb…” 

“Not really. She’s gonna have to try harder if she wants all of this.” Brittany flipped her hair over her shoulder with complete confidence and sass, gesturing to the curves of her body. She knew Santana could hear her. Santana blinked at her stupidly a few times, apparently disoriented by her hotness. 

She turned just in time to see Santana limping over to her pathetically. 

Brittany was confused. Why was Santana gazing at her in fascination, as if Brittany was the most gorgeous, entrancing being she had ever encountered even though her groin and ego were in a world of hurt?

“What’s your name?”

Maybe it was because Santana was so cute but Brittany couldn’t help but flirt a little despite herself. Maybe she didn’t want their game to be over just yet. They were both sweaty and flushed, somewhat breathless from all the dancing. 

“You need to let it go,” She teased, watching Santana closely as the woman attempted to regain her composure and act like she was unaffected. “It’s Brittany.” 

____

That would be far from the last she saw of Ms. Can't Take No For An Answer, even if she had humiliated her. 

She had never met anyone quite as determined and persistent as Santana Lopez. 

Apparently, when the Empress of the Universe wanted something, she always got her way and she wasn’t accustomed to being told “No.” 

Apparently Santana was really into the whole prissy mean girl side of Brittany.

She was also the most obvious person on the face of the planet. Brittany snorted when Tina sent her a link to a new article. The headline was pretty interesting. 

Santana Lopez Dedicates New Hit Single to Mystery Blonde - Who is “Brittany from The Pussy Cat?”

A video of her giving Santana a swift knee upward to the vaginal area had gone viral as well. 

Even Santana’s hardcore fans were amused by it all. 

Brittany noticed that Santana had left a bunch of comments on her thirst traps, making it extremely clear what she thought of them. The internet was going crazy making fun of how lusty and obsessed Santana was being but that hadn’t seemed to deter the woman either, despite Brittany ignoring all of her attempts to hit on her. 

That Brittany S. Pierce must have some Grade A Prime Pussy for Santana to be simping this hard for her… 

“Jesus Christ, the thirst,” Tina chuckled as Mike, Marley and Sugar couldn’t stop giggling beside her on the couch in the blonde’s apartment when she showed them her phone screen. They read yet another private message the woman sent to Brittany that was strongly suggesting what she wanted to do with her. “Goddamn. She really wants you.” 

“She’s just horny for me. She’ll get over it.” 

I’m just another conquest for her… 

“Be honest, do you think she’s attractive?” Sugar asked, raising an eyebrow. “At all?” 

She had watched all of Santana’s scenes on Bad Girls Club several times, looked at a bunch of her magazine photoshoots - she figured she needed to do her research, after all - and she even loved her songs that flopped.  That didn’t mean anything though. Santana Lopez was just a silly pompous rich girl just like the rest of them. 

“I mean, if you’re into the whole disgruntled, awkward cat aesthetic maybe. Her upper lip kinda reminds me of a duck.” She deflected. 

Everyone laughed as she said this. 

“You definitely should stay away from her. I know Santana well and she’s a total arrogant jerk. She thinks of women as disposable objects.” 

“Oh, is she?” Brittany snorted sarcastically. “That’s a shocker. Don’t worry, Tina, believe me you don’t have to worry about me falling for her.” 

Brittany’s apartment was so very pink and decorated in such an eccentric way that most people were a little taken aback when they walked in for the first time.

Eventually, her entire living space became crowded with bouquets of pink flowers Santana had sent to her address. She sent ridiculously expensive jewellery, chocolates, and dresses. Brittany didn’t even know how she figured out all of Brittany’s favourite colours and things like that but she wasn’t about to get rid of them… she liked expensive gifts. 

She never responded to any of Santana’s gifts, knowing it would drive her insane. Santana got her number from Tina and Mike, who were their mutual friends. Truth be told, Tina had always found Santana annoying anyway and they were more like frenemies as that feeling was mutual, so she was happy to assist Brittany in her plan to troll Santana.

Brittany answered Santana’s calls just enough to toy with her and keep her guessing, then ignored her whenever she felt like it. 

It was all part of her plan. 

“What am I supposed to do with all of this stuff?” The blonde whined halfheartedly as Lord Tubbington knocked over the growing pile of chocolate boxes. 

“You could send it back if you really don’t want it.” Mike suggested with a shrug. 

“I would… but pink diamonds are really nice,” Brittany pouted. “I might need another dress too.”

“This almost sounds like one of those sugar daddy type of situations,” The man shook his head at her, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “I’m not surprised, since it’s you after all.” 

“Except, she won’t be getting any sugar.” Britt winked. Tina smirked at her in agreement, giving her a high five. 

“You are the queen of manipulation. You’re really gonna get this woman to spend herself bankrupt, aren’t you? Yes, Girl. I say, use all the power you have to your advantage. Stress that fuckgirl out. Make her work for it, Britt. Make her suffer!” 

Sugar, Marley and Jake fell silent, taken aback by the short, gothic woman. Mike glanced over with a nervous expression as he heard Tina’s words, followed by her evil cackle. 

“You’re torturing the shit out of her! I love it. Get it, Girl.” 

Brittany felt proud. 

“Hey, if she wants all this she’s gonna have to work for it.” 

“Hey, Britt, I think there’s someone at your door. Must be another delivery from Ms. Egomaniac.” Sugar chimed in. 

The tall blonde just shrugged, traipsing over and eventually returning with a new parcel. Brittany blushed reddish pink up to her ears, gasping at a new, skimpy lingerie set that she unwrapped. She held up the light blue, lacy lingerie as her friends began to wolf whistle jokingly and some of them made gagging noises. 

Against her better judgment, she answered Santana’s call when that familiar number flashed on her phone a few minutes later. 

“You’ve got a lot of nerve sending this,” She sniffed, trying to sound bitchy and cold as she told her off. “Do you really think that’s appropriate? You horny bastard.” 

Santana was laughing down the line. She was actually laughing, that cheeky bitch. 

“You like it, Babe? Gonna put it on and model it just for me, Querida?”

“I am not your Querida.” 

She did like the lingerie a lot but Santana didn’t need to know that. If her ego got any bigger it would probably explode. 

She hung up before Santana could answer. Deep down, she knew Santana would love that response even more. 

****Read the rest of this story on AO3