#Shin needs to retaliate!

[rubybii]

your kink is showing

[witherby]

I need anything and everything of jason being Mouses favourite. (The Littlest Wayne AU)

They get a snack/ meal - Jay Jay has to take a bite first before they eat

They have a new toy- Jay Jay has to see and play

I’ll take anything you can think of.

I am obsessed. The AU is amazing

-🤍💜

Say less! I love Jason Todd and so does Flittermouse! By the way the word count is 3100+ lol oops

The Littlest Wayne: Fist Bumps

Masterlist is Here!

"This is stupid."

"Shut up, you're just mad you won't get picked."

Tim kicks Damian in the shin, who retaliates by kicking him back much, much harder in the ankle. Tim cries out, about to start a fight, but one stern look from Alfred settles them both down. They continue to sit beside each other without fuss, and soon everyone is all neatly lined in a row while Hal uses his ring to keep you safely suspended in a bubble, playing with a little rattle.

"Alright," Dick says excitedly, "we're going over the rules one more time! No jingling any shiny objects for Flitty to chase after, no getting out of line to get closer to them, and Bruce, no bare skin! We're gonna have Hal set them down and see who they come to first."

"This isn't gonna go the way you think it's gonna go," Bruce says, endlessly amused. "Please, none of you get your feelings hurt."

"Nobody's gonna start cryin', relax," Jason says, lounging on the floor between Damian and Hal. "Kay, we ready?"

A chorus of agreement follows, and Hal gently lowers you to the floor. They all immediately call your name, or variations of your nickname, waving their hands and patting their laps to get you to come to them. Your eyes widen, startled by the sudden rush of noise, and turn your head to assess everyone across the room.

You lock on to the man you want, the binky in your mouth bopping up and down excitedly, and you start speedily crawling to Jason.

"I KNOW that's fuckin' right!" He yells, scooping you into his arms and gently tossing you in the air a couple inches, then peppering your face with kisses. "I'm the favorite you little freaks. Kiss my ass."

"Okay, whatever, we knew that already," Dick says, "now it's time to see who the second favorite is. Put them down and go away so we can play again."

"Be nice to your brother," Bruce says. Dick flicks Bruce in the ear and he scowls. "Ow. Be nice to me."

"Fine. Gotta know who my competition is for the number one spot in Mousey's heart, even if I'm winning by a landslide." Jason carries you across the room and sets you back down. "You stay for a sec, kay? Pound it." He picks up your chubby arm and makes you give him a fist bump, then walks away from you.

Before they can even start a second round of the game, you're shuffling after him again. Christ, it's adorable.

"It's because they can still see you, Todd," Damian says, scooping you up to put back in starting position. "Duck behind the couch."

Jason rolls his eyes but complies, bending down until he's out of sight. When the rest of the family calls for you again, you shuffle forward like you're going to crawl to Hal, but you veer past him and around to the back of the couch to get to Jason again.

"Oh my god, they've developed object permanence already," Tim says. Jason's triumphant laughter fills the room as he lifts you up to give you more kisses. His endless delight and your happy squealing softens the blow to everyone else's egos.

"This game sucks anyway," Dick mumbles, crossing his arms in defeat. "What idiot even came up with it in the first place..."

--

"You ask."

"Uh, no? You ask? I don't care."

"Yeah but he tolerates your questions. I don't wanna get my jaw blown off."

"Then don't ask, dumbass. It's so easy."

Jason clears his throat, causing the two goons to stiffen up and turn to face him. One of them looks upset that he was caught unaware, and the other looks one wrong move away from pissing himself.

"Hi, boss," they both greet.

"Whatcha talkin' about?" Jason asks, taking a half-step closer. "Cause last I checked, I sent you both over here to do quality control on our newest drug shipment. And I'm not seeing a lot of that gettin' done."

He turns to the more frightened man. If he didn't have his helmet on, he would've sneered at him.

"So what's the hold up? Need me to sew some mouths shut? Hmm? Want me t'cut out your fuckin' tongue? That'll motivate you real fast, I bet."

"We'll get right on it, boss," the other, clearly smarter, henchman states. "We were just. Uh. Wondering why there's... why there's a baby strapped to your chest."

Jason looks down at you. You stare right back at him, making a soft cooing noise around your Red Hood-themed binky, and reach up for his mask. He gently takes your hand instead, feeling your tiny fingers curl around the leather of his gloved pointer. He's smiling sweetly at you, despite no one being able to see it.

"This is M," he says by way of an answer. "Won't be an everyday occurrence — couldn't find another babysitter so I assured the dad I'd keep 'em safe for the night."

He doesn't mention that your dad is also his dad, and that when Jason tried to leave to do his vigilante work, you screamed the house down and would only calm down in his arms, therefore he had no choice. So here you are, strapped to his chest in a onesie padded with kevlar and vital-tracking tech, while your favorite brother carries your diapers and formula around in the same duffel he stashes his guns.

And because you're his favorite, too, he secretly hopes you throw more fits so he gets to hoard you all to himself again. Taking a few minutes to tickle your tummy or gently rock you in his arms stops him from losing his patience and blowing out the brains of several subordinates tonight — which his men clearly catch onto, because they all start telling him how nice it is to see such a cute and perfect and pleasant, life-saving baby hanging around.

Fuck yeah it's nice. S'cause you're the coolest baby ever. Jason gently makes you fist bump him.

--

"AHHH!"

Jason is out of his chair and bolting across the Manor before his brain fully registers your screaming through the baby monitor. There's surprised exclamations and footfalls not far from him as his thunderous steps stir up a commotion, but he doesn't care about that.

There are very few times in his life when he's moved this fast. Large, expansive rooms fly by him in a blur of color. He takes the stairs six at a time. If a door he needs to get through is closed, he's breaking it down with a well-placed hit with his shoulder and moving on.

When he gets to your room, he stops to yank the door open because he doesn't know if you're near it, and darts inside with a sharp shout of your name.

"What's wrong!?" He pants, zeroing in on you immediately. You've rushed into your wardrobe and climbed inside it, red-faced and crying as a crow flaps haphazardly around the bedroom. The shattered glass on the floor gives him the missing context, and he snatches the bird out of the air with more force than necessary while the adrenaline spike is still scrambling his nervous system.

Bruce is the second person to rush into your room just moments after, crouching by your hiding spot with furrowed brows and a soft, slightly winded voice.

"Are you hurt?" He asks. You whimper but shake your head, fat tears rolling down your little cheeks, and lift your hands. Bruce picks you up without hesitation and stands up.

"Jaylad?" He says, still in that gentle tone. "You alright?"

Jason doesn't answer. He's not alright, not really. The rage he'd built up thinking someone was in here hurting you is still burning through his veins, and with no outlet for it, he's struggling a bit.

Bruce doesn't take offense to his lack of response. He just offers you a small, reassuring smile and bounces you a bit in his arms.

"Let's go find Grandpa and snuggle up with some hot chocolate," he murmurs. "Jay-Jay will hang back and make sure your bedroom is safe for you."

"No!" You sob, leaning around your father's broad shoulders to reach for Jason. "Want Jay-Jay!"

"You can spend time with him in a little while, Mouse," Bruce says, starting to carry you out of the room. Your protests get louder and more frantic, pushing against him to no avail.

"Want Jay!" You repeat, sobbing openly. "Jay-Jay! Want, p'ease!! Jay-Jay!"

"Bruce," Jason utters through grit teeth. His father stops, only a few steps down the hallway, and turns back to him. "It's fine. I'll take 'em, you clean up the mess."

"...are you sure?" Bruce frowns, visibly cautious. He looks down at the bird still flapping helplessly as Jason holds it by the neck, firmer than strictly necessary.

Jason takes a step towards the broken window and tosses the crow out. After a second of frantic flapping, it straightens itself out and flies away with panicked sqawking.

He turns to you and holds out his arms. They're only trembling a little bit, but the edges of his vision are still tinged with green. Bruce hesitates to pass you over.

"I've got it," Jason murmurs, "I'm calm enough. Gimme my fuckin' sibling before you piss me off worse, B."

Bruce nods slowly. He brings you back into the room and hands you off to Jason. Your arms circle his neck and cling on tight, and you bury your face in his chest as you cry. It breaks his heart that you had such a bad scare. He can see the half-completed Lego build you were playing with on the floor in front of the window and hopes Bruce can get all the glass shards out between the bricks and carpet.

Jason carries you out of your bedroom and down the corridor to his. He leaves his door cracked open and flicks on lights as he goes, then brings you to the en-suite bathroom.

"Okay, Mousey," he mumbles, trying to set you on the sink's vanity. You clutch him tighter and whimper, and it drives a spear right through his chest. "Kid, I'm not goin' nowhere. Jay-Jay's right here, I just wanna make sure there's no glass on you."

A little more prodding and the compromise of you holding one of his hands gets you to relent. You sit miserably on the counter as your sobs slowly die down, and Jason tediously checks your hair and clothes for any bits of glass that may have landed on you when the crow crashed into the window. The slow, repetitive motions help quiet the last of his anger until he's just tired and concerned for you. He finds a couple tiny pieces, but your skin is unblemished and when he asks if you're hurt, you shake your head, which then calms him entirely.

"Alright, great job," he murmurs. "Come here, we'll go bother Alfie t'give us an icecream sammy before dinner and then cuddle in the main living room. Good plan?"

You sniffle, wiping the last of your tears away. Your cheeks are flushed and puffy. "Yeah, good pwan..."

Jason kisses the top of your head and offers you his fist. You gently bump yours against his, then lift your arms again to be picked back up. He obliges, refusing to put you back down for the rest of the day. When it's time for bed, you don't wanna go back into your room, so he spends the evening reading his current novel with a dim book light while you snooze away on his chest.

--

He's livid. Jason's got a hole in his leg and he can't run away from the rival gang leader pointing a gun at his head, and he's fucking livid.

"My first death was way cooler," he mutters. "Got blown up and everything."

"What the fuck are you saying?" The other man scowls. "I never could understand you through that thick-ass helmet."

"I'm saying, if you're gonna go down as the guy that killed the Red Hood, at least make the execution something fuckin' noteworthy," Jason rants, the pain making him bitchier than usual. He waves his hands for emphasis, pointing at the gunman much like a mother scolding her child. "Ohh I shot him and watched his brain splatter everywhere! So has every single marksman ever. I'm worth more than a bullet in an alleyway. The fuck do I look like, Bruce Wayne's folks?"

"Whoa, man," the shooter says, lifting his free hand to scratch the back of his head. "Let me get this straight. You're not mad I'm gonna kill you. You're that mad I'm not gonna kill you...in a cooler way?"

"Excellent listening ears, bucko! Gold star!" Jason coos, clapping. "Immolation, decapitation, tossin' me in an acid pit — fuck me, I'll take a stab wound over a bullet! D'you know how skilled you gotta be to get close enough to stab Red Hood to death!? If not for me, do somethin' that'll raise your own paltry street cred, shit. You're so fucking boring."

The man doesn't get another chance to weigh his options. The darkness of the alleyway pounces on him, sucking him into the void while he shrieks like an animal. Jason slumps against the wall and watches the shapeless darkness warp and twist, the gun abandoned on the ground in the gunman's initial panic. He feels his heart rate slow when you step out after a minute, wearing a thick jacket over your pajamas and a domino mask over your eyes as you hurry towards him. A flash of irritation makes him scowl as he realizes one of the others woke you up for this, when you aren't even a vigilante to begin with. The culprit's gonna get their ass beat as soon as he recovers enough to track them down.

"Okay," you stammer, kneeling next to him on the ground with a first aid kit. "Okay okay okay...Alf — umm, Agent A? I'm here, what do I do?"

"Remain calm, Flittermouse. All will be well," Alfred soothes you over the comms. Jason feels the adrenaline steadily exiting his body now that he's registered that he's safe. Now, it's a fight to stay conscious so you don't freak out even more than you're currently doing. He's so proud of you for coming out here despite the blatant fear.

Your hands shake as you pop the kit open and pull out the field tourniquet. Alfred instructs you on how to set it up, and Jason gently adjusts it when you wrap it a little too close to the bullet wound in his thigh. He grits his teeth as you tighten it, refusing to make a peep, and gives you a quick thumbs up when you tie it off.

"Okay, I stopped the bleeding. Do I bring him home, now?" You ask.

"As long as he has no other injuries, the medical bay is ready for you to transport him back to the cave."

"M'good, Mousey," Jason says, lifting his fist. "Sorry you had to come rescue your cool big bro. S'not your job."

"I was the one who could get here the fastest," you reply. After a moment's hesitation, you bump his fist with your own. "You're gonna be okay."

"M'gonna be okay," he echoes, knowing you need that confirmation. "Saved my life, kid. I'll do all your chores for the next week."

That gets a wet laugh out of you. You hug Jason tight and the shadows of the alley pool underneath your bodies. Jason closes his eyes and hugs you back, a steady anchor in the free-falling sensation entering your darkness gives him.

"My heroics are only worth a week of chores?"

"S'better than the rest get," he says. "They get one chore. Not even a whole day, just one chore."

You bury your face in his shoulder as the void swallows you and him up.

"You're my favorite, too, Jay-Jay," you mumble. Jason smiles as he loses the battle for consciousness.

--

"Good afternoon; welcome to Truce Juice. Would you like a moment with a menu or are you ready to order?"

Jason leans his hip against the counter and takes a menu off the small, laminated stack you've got sitting there, glancing over the options. Behind the helmet, he smiles as he remembers all the late nights you pulled him and your other brothers into the kitchen to taste test these drinks and snacks, desperate to make things that would appeal to many people. He remembers how proud you were to graduate from your culinary courses and the victory cry you let out when you found insurance willing to cover the building.

You smile warmly at him, waiting patiently for him to choose something off the menu for the first time in your brand new business.

"Black coffee," he says, voice warped by the modulator in the helmet, "two sugars."

"What size?" You ask, tapping it into the screen in front of you.

"Large. And a turkey panini, with avocado and pesto."

"Toasted?"

"What other fuckin' way would anybody get a panini?" He muses aloud. To strangers, he would sound angry, but you can tell he's genuinely asking. You just shrug and keep the soft smile on your face.

"You'd be surprised. Your total's on the screen; will that be cash or card?"

Jason reaches a gloved hand down. It glides past the pistol strapped to his thigh, eliciting nervous gasps from bystanders in the cafe, and into the pocket underneath, drawing out a plain, tri-fold wallet. He pulls out two hundred-dollar bills and huffs at you to keep the change, then saunters over to the pick-up counter to wait.

He crosses his arms and watches you scuttle around behind the counter, genuinely happy to make food and drinks for anybody that comes in. So far, you're uninjured and you've been able to stop any rising conflicts in seconds, which he's endlessly thankful for.

When his order is ready, you hand it to him with another bright smile.

"Alright, mister Hood, here you go. Have a great day!"

Jason nods, about to turn away, when he sees you hold your fist out in his periphery.

He grins, heart fit to burst, and bumps it back.

[hihhasotherfixations]

Relight the fire - King! Price x Princess! Reader | NSFW

Synopsis: Growing up in the neighbouring kingdom, you and Price go a long way back, practically growing up together. From rambunctious kids who play together, to teenagers exploring each other. Now, a decade later, you finally reunite after your parents proposed an arranged marriage to the now king. His memory of you however is still coloured and he intends to relive it.

CW: fem! reader, arranged marriage, p in v, yearning, lots of kisses, sort of a quickie?

Word Count: 5499

Sitting in the carriage, your eyes were cast out at the roads passing by. Familiar but oh so foreign streets rolled across your view. Streets you remember running down, yet had changed so much in the last decade.

It had been a while since you’d last visited the kingdom of Onferon. When was the last time again? Glancing to the right, you saw your mother – the queen – seated beside her husband. They were the reason you were last here too. You must have been a teenager when you last travelled here, accompanying your parents for business. Or was it a young adult? You don’t remember. Either way, at least ten years must have passed at this point.

“It’ll be fine, sweetheart.”

Your father’s voice pulled you out of your reminiscing and you looked over at him, a questioning look on your face that made him smile gently.

“We’ve had communications with king Price. He’s eager to see you again.”

Right. King. It seemed so long ago now that the two of you were running around through the streets, evading the guards who were desperately chasing you, trying to keep an eye on you for a safety neither of you cared about. But now, that boy you knew was a king.

Knowing your father was waiting for an answer, you replied. “As I am him.” You spoke back, though the neutrality in your tone betrayed some of your inner thoughts. A lot of time passed. You weren’t getting any younger, neither was he. Which is why – to your brother’s dismay – you were here today.

An arranged marriage. Proposed and set up by your parents. With your history, they hoped that John Price would accept, strengthening your own kingdom in the process.

Not that you blamed your parents. What was needed was needed. With your brother in line for the throne, you knew there was only one way for you to go as princess.

Just then, the carriage passed through the gates onto the castle grounds, cobbled streets making way for lush green gardens and hedges.

“I don’t like this.” Your brother then murmured, much to the dismay of your parents.

“Hush now. Your sour attitude will compromise this all. The marriage isn’t finalised. King Price refused to do so until he saw her again.” Your mother motioned her hand at you, making your brother huff and cross his arms like a petulant child. “Behave.” She scolded – without effect.

Hearing her chastise him, your brother just grumbled and you playfully kicked his shin, making him hiss in pain before glaring at you.

Sitting up to retaliate, he was stopped by your father saying a stern “Enough!”.

Calming, both of you relaxed in your seats right as the carriage came to a stop.

With the doors opening, your mother shuffled close while the men got up to step out, her hands tenderly running over your dress, fixing a fold and tucking a hair back in place on your head.

“Remember.” She spoke softly. “Chin up, be calm, be good. It’ll be your actions who decide whether this arrangement happens or not. Answer his questions as truthful as is necessary.” With that, she smiled softly, her gloved hand gently rubbing your cheek before she too got out.

Taking a deep breath, you pulled your own gloves a little tighter up your arms before you got up from the seat and stepped out of the carriage, taking your brother’s offered hand to step down, your heals clicking on the stone walkway.

Before you, the castle towered over not just you but the entire kingdom, standing tall and proud. A pillar of the kingdom’s wealth and power. And before its doors, stood John Price.

Once you spotted him, you blinked once, your eyes shifting over his attire. A simple dark blue doublet with intricate embroidery – simple upon first glance yet hinting at wealth up close. Slowly, your gaze rose up to his face, his young visage now more weary with age, not to mention covered in intricately carved facial hair.

It took a moment too long for your eyes to look at his, finding that they’d been focused on you all along. Realising, you straightened up a little, following your parents upon their approach.

“Welcome, your majesties.” Price greeted, politely bowing his head, to which your family returned the greeting in kind, your head bowing as you sunk through your knees a bit. “Please come in, festivities have been arranged.” Price stepped aside then, the guards around you motioning you up.

Your parents were first to go, your brother and you following up the steps. There, Price led the way, walking through intricate halls and bustling staff as they ran around. Some stopped by him as he walked, hearing them out before quietly responding and sending them on their way, resuming the silent tour after.

“Your luggage is being arranged. You shall find it in your quarters.” Price smiles kindly after a moment, pausing in front of a set of double doors. As he smiled, his eyes crinkled, the corners of his mouth pulling his beard up with them, almost lighting up his face – an expression almost designed to draw you in.

You’d seen it plenty of times before. Though he seemed to have lost the cocky attitude he had before, that permanent smirk replaced with a genuine kindness that surprised you.

“Thank you.” Your father spoke and Price nodded, motioning them to pass through the doors as they were pulled open by guards.

“Many have arrived before you. Please feel free to enjoy yourselves for now. Dinner shall begin shortly.” Price spoke courteously before his eyes shifted to you. “I would like to invite you and your children to be seated by me when the time comes.”

“We would be happy to accept.” Your mother smiled and you silently took a deep breath in, feeling the man’s eyes focused on you, your hands neatly clasped at your middle, resting by your stomach.

“Sister.” Your brother then took your arm, narrowing his eyes at Price as he urged you past, the king just smiling to himself as he followed behind, being the last through the doors.

Inside, the ballroom was packed with nobility from all over the land, eating, drinking, dancing.

Quickly, your mother and father dispersed, going to mingle with the crowd. When your brother didn’t seem to move, your mother stepped back and grabbed his arm, yanking him away from you and along with her with an apologetic smile.

It wasn’t until king Price stepped up beside you on the left that you realised why. He’d been waiting to speak with you alone.

Looking over, you noticed his eyes flick upwards a second too late, his gaze now settling on your face. “Your highness.” He greets with a small smile, your fingers fidgeting slightly as the pressure placed on your shoulders mounts higher.

“Your majesty.” You greeted back, much more formal than his greeting was, even when you both used official titles. A detail that didn’t escape the man, his head tilting a little.

“It has been a while since we last spoke. You have aged beautifully.” Price started, turning to fully face you, his eyes now freely roaming down, appraising you sweetly.

“Indeed it has, and thank you. You too have changed much.” You spoke back, trying to put an easy smile on your face though it was a bit tense.

Seeing it, Price reached out, gently grabbing your gloved hand, pulling it up to press a soft kiss to the back of it, his eyes never straying from yours. “For the better, I hope?” He teased softly, his lips moving against the fabric of your glove before he pulled back a bit, still holding your hand. “Why so nervous, my princess?” He asked after a moment, stepping closer, looking down at you with gentle eyes, intelligent and perceptive.

“My apologies.” You stated softly, taking a soft breath in to try and settle the pressing feeling in your chest. Being nervous wasn’t going to convince him to accept the marriage.

Watching you take the breath, Price’s eyes softened a little, glancing around to see the busy ballroom, his head then turning back to you. “What say you we find a place less… crowded, where we can talk?”

You frowned a little at that. “But what of dinner?”

“Dinner won’t be for a while yet. We have time and they will wait.” He stated, his free hand sweeping out to guide your gaze to a door leading out of the ballroom. A gesture to follow.

“I-” You started, glancing back into the room, seeing people’s eyes on you. There was a general knowledge of what was going on, what could happen. And it didn’t help your nervousness. “I’d hate to make people wait.” You eventually murmured, making Price chuckle softly, his hand squeezing yours.

“Still the worrier you always have been.” He smiled. “The dinner is still being prepared. Half an hour extra on the slow roast won’t ruin it. Might even improve it.” He joked before turning to fully face you again, using his free hand to grab your other one, now holding both as he looked right into your eyes. “Besides, would it not be nice to announce the decision I’ve come to during dinner?” He asked with a little smile, a playful gleam in his eye as he squeezed your hands before turning to the side again, once more holding out his hand, waiting for you to accept his invitation and follow him.

Letting out a shaky breath, you nod and Price smiled, holding you tighter as he led you out of the side door into a long hallway.

“You really haven’t changed at all. Only got more beautiful.” The man murmured, looking forward as he walked.

His comment had your heart clenching a little, your heels padding along the carpet, your eyes on the back of his head. “How do you mean?”

At that, he turned to look back at you with a small grin. “I remember leading you like this before. You were oh so worried to make your parents wait. Or that other time where you didn’t want to cause trouble for the guards for losing us. Just like you’re now worrying about the guests.” He hummed, your heart starting to speed up as he so easily seemed to remember you and the past.

“That was-”

“Always for the same thing.” He interrupted you, taking a turn and leading you up a set of stairs, his arms moving behind his back to pass your hand from his right to his left. “A worry for others to hide your own nerves.”

That had you pause, your steps slowing and – sensing you were no longer following so easy – Price slowed, looking back at you.

“I-”

“Sweetheart.” His quiet voice made you look up, seeing him step down the stairs to be level with you before cupping your face. “Don’t worry, alright? It’ll be like old times. Just you and me.” He hummed lowly, a glint in his eyes as he brought your hand up and kissed the back of it again. “Be a good girl and follow, hm?”

Walking backwards up the stairs a few steps, Price led the way as you followed, a little dazed. Seeing you were, Price then pulled you a little closer once you reached the top of the staircase, his hand snaking around your waist.

Leading you down the hall, he turned left to a set of double doors, opening one and helping you step inside.

Immediately, nostalgia and memories hit, memories that made your cheeks slightly heat up as you surveyed his bedroom. It had matured, just like him. But the layout remained the same.

“Come here, love.” Price spoke, his hand around your waist shifting to your hip after locking the doors, pushing you back until you gently hit a sofa, sitting down while a fire roared in the fireplace.

Having you seated, he sat down beside you, letting out a relieved little breath as he opened the clasp by his neck, shaking out his hair a little. “There.” He grunted, getting comfortable as he sat back, his legs splaying out somewhat.

Looking over at him, you straightened up a little, clasping your hands together in your lap, knowing the talk that was coming.

Seeing it, Price chuckled softly, reaching out to pick up your hand, his fingers tracing the glove up your arm until he hooked into the edge of the fabric that rested past your elbow.

“You’re so tense, hm? Dressed all proper for today to make an impression.” His voice dropped to a lower frequency as he talked, his eyes reflecting the firelight as they followed the path of his finger.

Slowly, he shifted closer, his leg moving to sit against yours as he slowly started to push the fabric of the glove down your elbow, revealing more of your skin.

“Uh-” grasping the fabric, you looked at the man, feeling your cheeks heat up a little.

“The fire is lit and we’re eating after this. Surely these aren’t needed anymore?” Price asked, a faux kind of innocence accompanying his statement. When he felt your hold slack, he carefully pulled the glove down your arm, taking it off and humming softly as he grabbed your now bare hand. “Much better.” He murmured, bringing your hand up and gently kissing the back of it, causing you to feel the course hair of his beard gently rub against your skin.

Feeling it, a strange sort of nervousness swirled through your stomach, butterflies flitting about as you felt the hairs lift off your skin, before he gently turned your hand around, pressing a kiss to the inside of your wrist in a similar manner, causing your breath to quietly hitch.

“Yes. Much better.” Price concluded with a little smile. Leaning in to reach his arm over, he took off your other glove as well, laying them over the back of the couch. “It has been too long since we’ve been like this, sweetheart.” He spoke softly, his eyes slowly lifting back up to yours.

“How… How have you been?” You asked, not knowing where else to start.

Seeing it, Price shifted a little, that small smile still tugging at the corner of his lip as he shifted in his seat, leaning back. “I have been quite alright. A lot has happened since I last saw you. But I am happy to say that having you by my side still makes my day better.”

Letting out a relieved little breath, you sat up a bit, turning to him a little, accidentally pressing your legs tighter together, as Price didn’t move an inch – didn’t try to even.

“I must say, I’m surprised you remember me so. We saw each other only sparingly as kids.”

Huffing in amusement, Price leaned forward, his hand suddenly landing on your thigh, rubbing a bit. “Remember? Darling, I haven’t been able to forget you one day. However sparingly we saw each other, I cannot possibly forget our little outings, hm?”

At the mention of that, you felt your face instantly darken in blush, swallowing nervously.

Seeing it, a familiar smirk worked its way onto the brunet’s face, his hand slowly trailing higher up your thigh. Before he could however, you placed your hand over his, clearing your throat.

“Uhm, perhaps we should discuss the- the uhm, marriage.” You spoke, a chuff of amusement leaving the man.

“I see you after all these years and you want to discuss bureaucracy?” He questioned, though he acquiesced, his hold on your thigh loosening.

“We’re not teenagers anymore. There is a certain… etiquette.” You spoke, trying to stay firm, though when he leaned in, his free hand coming up to tilt your chin his way, you felt your jaw flutter in nervousness.

“There was always etiquette.” He murmured softly, his eyes carefully roaming across your face, an admiration in them that had your muscles slacking a little, your eyes turning more innocent upon his unguarded gaze. “Yet I remember as we ran down the garden, shaking guards just to get a moment alone.”

His voice was quiet, raspy as he spoke, his hand moving from your chin down to grasp the one you were using to stop his hand on your thigh. Slowly, as if scared to spook you, he let go of your leg, his hand coming up to slowly brush down your jaw, feeling the soft skin before he cradled the back of your head.

“I remember breaking every rule in the book just to have you under me.” He hummed, leaning close, his breath on your lips with every word he spoke. “Every visit to one another turning into sweaty bodies, every diplomatic outing shifted to be for us. You don’t know how long I’ve waited to feel you again.”

His murmured words had you let out a shaky breath, looking up to see his eyes half-lidded, feeling his hand on the back of your head scratch your scalp a bit.

“But… we can’t. Not until- until it’s all official. We’re grown up. You’re king.” You whispered and Price smiled, leaning his face in before he started to press deep, slow kisses to your neck, savouring every single one.

“My darling. I accepted the offer the moment your parents came with it.” He whispered against your throat, his teeth lightly raking over your skin, careful not to leave a mark.

“You did?”

Smiling, Price pressed a last kiss to your throat before he pulled back to look at you. “You think I’d lose the chance to finally make you mine? I told you back then, didn’t I?

You let out a shaky breath, a flash of a memory playing in your mind. The two of you right here in this room, younger, more stupid. Price – who was just John back then – above you, his hips rapidly moving against yours, your panted breaths mingling as teeth clacked, limbs entangled and innocence lost.

Whispered breaths of his claim. Those exact words falling from his lips back then as they did now. And fuck how you loved it then, treasuring every syllable.

Coming back to, you looked at the man before you. The king before you. Things were different. Both of you were, the circumstances were. And despite the heat you felt in your cheeks, you spoke. “That was- You can’t compare. We were just-”

“Just kids?” Price finished your sentence for you and shook his head. “Maybe to you, but not to me.” He spoke, his voice gaining an edge and you felt a panic rise.

“N-No, of course it wasn’t that to me either!”

“Then why so surprised now? Have you moved on?”

At his question, your eyes widened in shock. “No.”

“Fallen out of love?”

“No!”

“Then why so nervous, my darling?” Price whispered, his free hand snaking around your waist. “I told you I was one day going to make you mine all those years ago. And today is the day.”

Letting out a little breath, you looked up at him, seeing his eyes gaze down at you with practically devotion. To him, you were his morning breeze. The smell of rain. A flickering firelight in the winter.

“My king…” You whispered, unsure, your eyes flickering down.

Returning in kind, Price used the hand on your neck to quickly pull you in as he slanted his lips over yours, pulling you into a kiss that had your hands shoot out to cling to his clothing.

For not a single second did the king hold back, his hand around your waist tightening, pulling you close against himself as he moved his mouth against your own, pulling your head back and leaning further into the kiss.

Even back in your teenage years, John had never known restraint. And now, when he was king Price, he was still just as intense, his tongue practically begging for entrance as he held you close, rolling his body into you as he deepened the kiss, taking only small moments to suck air in before he was right back to kissing you like a man starved, pushing you back into the couch.

Pushing on his chest, you felt his hand go from the back of your head to rest on your throat, his thumb shifting up to push your chin higher as he then pulled back, panting softly, his pupils blown and eyes half-lidded.

“T-The dinner.” You panted softly and Price just smiled, leaning down to nose at your cheek, his lips pressing to the corner of your mouth.

“I’ve already instructed them to wait at least half an hour. We have plenty of time. Would be a shame to waste it with boring mingling, no?” He hummed, pulling back to look into your eyes. “Let me indulge in you, my queen, like I once did.”

Your stomach practically fluttered at his words, your breath coming out shaky as you looked up at him. “I-” You hesitated and Price groaned softly, climbing better onto the couch.

“Please. I’ve waited so long. I need you now, my love.” He whispered into your ear, his voice husky, almost breathless as he took your hand in his, entwining your fingers before bringing it up, kissing at the back of it again, his eyes shifting to yours. “I beg you now…”

His whispered words echoed in your mind, your teeth gently digging into your bottom lip as you weighed your options, feeling his weight pressing into you, heavier than you remember, his physique evolved, just like all of him did.

Waiting for your answer, Price sighed softly, closing his eyes as he pushed his forehead to yours, his hand on your waist squeezing softly.

And then you spoke the freeing words.

“Promise we won’t be late?”

Lifting his head, Price looked down at you, a smile spreading on his face as he gazed at you. “My dear, you will be seated by me at the table on time, even if I have to carry you there.” He assured, leaning into you slowly before kissing you again, your eyes closing this time as you pushed back into it.

Without hesitation, Price’s hands snaked down your body, firmly running over your ass before he got to your thighs where he hiked your legs up, a clear hint to hold on while your dress fell down to your hips.

Once your heels were kicked off and your legs crossed behind his back, Price shifted his hands under you and lifted, breaking the kiss to see where he was going around the couch before pushing you into his plush bed.

Stumbling a little near the end, his groin pushed into yours from how close you were and Price groaned in pleasure while you gasped softly, realising just how needy he really was.

Unbuckling his belt, Price tossed it aside before pushing your dress and petticoat up to your hips, his eyes landing on your delicate underwear, a wet spot forming on the fabric that had his chest heaving.

“Fuck me, darling.” He spoke, his left hand trailing from your knee, down your leg.

It almost tickled, how lightly the tips of his fingers trailed from your stockings down to and over your skin, travelling your inner thigh down until they met the juncture of your hips. There, he bypassed your underwear entirely, slipping two fingers into the waistband, pushing them down and running through your folds.

The clenching of his jaw was almost visible as he suppressed a groan, feeling how slick you were, his fingers trailing through the soft, velvety feeling of your folds, ghosting over your clit before going back down, repeating the path over and over, making your body heat up with every brush.

“John-”

“Sshh.” He soothed softly, his right hand gently gathering your wrists, moving to hold them above your head against a pillow, his face leaning down to start kissing along your exposed sternum, his teeth pulling on the loops holding your dress buttoned around your cleavage, making your breath stutter.

Pinned and at his mercy, you closed your eyes, relaxing your legs and letting them fall a little wider, creating more space for Price, his fingers dipping down, one slipping into you as he hummed. “Good girl…”

Creasing your brows together, you could feel his finger pump inside you, deeper and deeper until he was in to the knuckle, starting to gently thrust in and out, revelling in your wetness, the warmth of your channel.

Different from before, his finger felt so much thicker, though perhaps it was the time passed that warped your perception, having only had your own fingers to do what he once did. What he was doing again now.

Already feeling out of breath, you swallowed nervously as you felt him add a second finger, a strangled moan leaving you at the stretch, paired with his thumb gently laying onto your clit.

Hearing it, Price smiled, knowing he was in the right spot as he carefully started thrusting his fingers, letting that motion dictate the slow move of his thumb on your clit. A slow rock back and forth, more pressure and less in an addicting wave while his fingers filled and stretched you.

“So good for me, so patient.” Price coo’ed softly, leaning slow and steady before kissing you, the force of it pressing your head back into the pillow as his fingers sped up, thrusting faster into you, feeling your slick grow, your pussy more readily accepting, allowing the man to start to scissor the digits, opening you up more and more until he introduced a third finger. His hold on your wrists tightened before he slid it up to curl his fingers with yours, entwining the digits between both your hands, loosely holding. For more than loose was not needed. You’d stay, readily and eagerly, kissing back as you felt his tongue roll through your mouth, tasting and exploring once more.

When he curled his fingers inside you, you squeaked into his mouth, causing the brunet to chuckle against your lips, continuing the motion again and again, feeling your squirming increase, his body on top of yours the only thing keeping you in place. Though when your knee brushed past the bulge in his pants, he gasped into your mouth, pausing his movements as he felt you try to catch your breath, a whimper on your lips as the building pressure left when he froze.

“Little minx.” He whispered, a smile curling onto his face as he hummed into your skin, rubbing his beard into you softly. “Wanna mark you so bad. But I better hold off.” He murmured, his fingers instead slipping out of you, to your dismay. “Sssh, ssh. It’s okay.” He soothed, using the same hand to push your underwear down your hips and thighs, leaving them there a moment as he guided one leg up and out of the garment, letting the fabric hang where it was on your other leg, already forgotten as his hand yanked the loop out at the drawstrings of his leather pants.

Making quick work of pushing them down his thighs, he pushed his underwear down with it, his cock freed and heavy, almost throbbing as you looked down, feeling the flush on your face spread to your ears.

“I’ll take my time to worship you soon. For now, I just have to be inside you.” He groaned softly, lining up with you before glancing up, waiting for you to give the okay.

Touched, you bit your lip before nodding. Upon getting the okay, he rubbed his tip through your folds, sliding up to your clit and down once, twice as he gathered your slick on it before carefully pushing into your entrance.

Letting go of your lip, you looked down with a little gasp, seeing his length slowly sinking into you, a familiar full feeling spreading from your walls, all the way up your spine.

Price panted as he felt himself slip in so easily, having prepared you well. “There you go, taking me so well. Made for me.” He groaned out, his head thrown back as he rocked his hips, pushing deeper into you, intent to fully sink in.

“John-” You gasped, your fingers curling around his and a little moan left him that had your cunt clench.

“Yes, say it again.” He panted, his free hand holding your hip, pulling you down while he pushed deeper, almost fully inside.

“John.” You whined a little moan, so full, feeling him bottom out soon after, his balls resting against your ass as he paused, panting.

“Knew you could do it- Fuck, so good.” Price panted, his body pressing down on you, his chest to yours almost suffocating as he panted into your neck, so so tempted to bite down, mark you up. But he refrained.

Instead, he pulled back his hips before pushing back in, his cock slick with your fluids as he began to move, feeling how tightly your cunt was gripping him with every thrust, his pace starting slow and languid, though it quickly started picking up speed.

Panting, you looked down, seeing his length move out before disappearing into you, a dark smattering of hair running up to his navel as he rocked into you, a small bump visible by your stomach every time he pushed in, a moan leaving you as the tip of his cock hit a spongy spot deep inside you.

“I- ah-” You moaned, throwing your head back as your growing pleasure from before came rushing back and Price bit his lip, starting to speed up a bit more, pushing deep into you, intent on hitting that spot every time.

“My queen.” Price panted, not to address you, but possessive. A claim. You were his. His queen.

“I-” You panted, feeling a sheen of sweat start to gather at the back of your neck and by your lower back, embarrassment curling through you as so quickly you felt the pleasure grow.

Grunting with his thrusts, Price snapped his hips into you, hitting deep, pausing half a second before pulling out a repeating, not fast but deep. Hitting your sweet spot with every rock of his hips into you, his balls hitting into you with every move.

“Keep going-” You moaned, your breathing speeding up as Price began to kiss up and down your neck, his thrusts getting accompanied by groans as he felt his own pleasure grow.

Shifting his hold from your hip, the man lifted your leg up to hook over him, holding you there as he fucked into you, moaning as he hit even deeper, your own control of your noise slipping.

Every push in got a breathy moan from you, every pull out a gasp. Squeezing your hands once, the man then smashed his lips into yours while his now free hand roamed down to roll into your clit, his thumb gently moving back and forth, making you groan loudly into his mouth, the sound completely swallowed up by his greedy lips, his hips picking up speed as he started to feel his thoughts blur, blending together in a jumbled mess as he chased his high.

“Fuck, John-” You whimpered, a pressure building, an electric feeling shooting through your spine as your back started to arch, the kiss broken as Price panted into your skin, his hips snapping into you.

“There you go, come on. Cum for me.” He huffed, his thumb rolling circles onto your clit not letting up, persistent and unforgiving, a whimper leaving you as you threw your head back.

“Yes-!” You gasped, moaning out as the tight coil snapped, your walls clenching tight as you came undone.

Spasming around his cock, Price groaned out, fucking you through your orgasm as the heat in his belly spread through his whole body, chasing his high as he began to move faster, more desperate, clinging to you in desperation as he panted into you.

“Come on, come on-!” He gasped before snapping his hips into you, holding still as a low moan rolled from his lips, feeling his release hit him, pumping into you in quick spurts, his hips stuttering a few more times before he stilled inside you.

There, the two of you laid, panting into each other, breaths mingling as you tried to catch your breath, tightly holding onto one another, even as your leg slowly slipped down from his waist.

Panting, Price stayed there, his forehead pressed to yours as he could feel his seed begin to leak out around his cock still stuffed within you.

“That’s… dangerous.” You panted softly and Price chuckled softly, lifting his head away from yours to look down at you, his eyes soft and adoring.

“It doesn’t matter, we’ll be married soon anyways.” He spoke as he caught his breath, smiling down at you before leaning in to kiss you.

- - - - - -

Trying to get back into writing a bit, sorry for my absence 😔✋. Hope you enjoyed! Comments and reblogs much appreciated, thank you for reading! <3

[lovelybucky1]

dad!matt discovering you have degradation kink by accident and you're all embarrassed and tell him to forget about it but he's stubborn and honestly the fact that you're embarrassed only makes it easier to use that discovery against you. why is he so mean 😔

btw i'm in love with your blog, honestly as someone raised in a catholic environment even though i know it's okay to like a lot of things, i do sometimes feel idk... guilty? and places like your blog make me feel valid and i wanted to thank you for that

this warms my heart so much. i know im just a faceless smut writer on tumblr but im so glad that my writing has an impact on people. i appreciate you reading!! 🫶

even if you had a convincing poker face, it’d be useless against matt. he can tell when you’re lying before you even do so. honestly, there’s no point in him even asking you questions other than wanting to hear you say the answers out loud.

“c’mon, you can tell me. what are your deep, dark fantasies?” he asks, chuckling as you lounge on the couch together. your feet rest in his lap and his hand covers your shin, rubbing small circles over your skin.

“i don’t have any,” you say, matching his laughter.

matt’s smile shifts into more of a smirk and he looks at you with his head tilted to the side. “yes, you do.”

“no, i don’t,” you insist.

“i know when you’re lying, sweetheart.” he shifts so he’s facing you and he grabs your hands, holding them gently. “you know you can tell me anything.”

“it’s really not a big deal, i swear. just forget it.”

“you told me you wanted to call me dad in bed. how could this be any more embarrassing than that?” he teases, and in retaliation, you attempt to kick him in the chest, but he catches your ankle. “i can start guessing if you want.”

“dad,” you huff, pulling your foot back.

“let’s see… you want me to tie you up?” your heartbeat remains steady. “no. you want to have a threesome?” steady. “no. you want me to walk you around on a leash?” still nothing. “hmm…” you feel matt getting closer to the truth and your heartrate increases with anxiety. “you want me to be mean to you?”

your heart skips.

“that’s it,” matt says with a satisfied grin.

you whine as you hide your face in your hands. “please stop.”

“was that so hard, baby? i can be mean to you if you want,” he laughs. “i didn’t think you’d be into something like that. i guess i should’ve known,” he says as he pulls you closer to him by your ankle. “i’ve got myself a kinky little girl, don’t i?”

he takes ahold of your wrists and moves your hands away from your face, removing the only protection you had from facing your embarrassment. he makes you look at him and when he does, he can feel your pulse quicken even more.

“i can do this for you, you just have to tell me what you want me to say,” he says.

“i don’t know,” you shrug.

“don’t lie to me,” he says. “tell me.”

“like…” you trail off.

“like?” he mocks.

you rip the bandaid off. “whore and slut and dumb and pathetic,” you blurt out. “just be mean.” you said it so quickly that the embarrassment of your words doesn’t hit you until they’re all out. that’s when you realize that matt is doing this on purpose. “you asshole,” you huff.

“don’t be mad, sweetheart,” he chuckles. “i’m just doing what you want, right? making you all flustered and embarrassed is mean, isn’t it?”

you cross your arms and attempt to turn away from him, but matt anticipates it and stops you by pinning your arms at your sides. he moves to hover over your body and places his knee between your spread thighs.

“and you like it, don’t you?” he asks, this time more serious. when you don’t answer, he says, “tell me.”

“yes, i like it,” you whimper as he tightens his grip on your wrists.

“yeah, you do,” he smirks. “now tell me, do you want me to bring you to bed, or do you want me to fuck you on the couch like a slut?”

you don’t have to say a word. your rapidly beating heart tells matt everything he needs to know.

[curlysswirlywirly]

TAN LINES

summer in konoha rarely ever arrives gently, even the wind, when it shows up, doesn’t offer any reprieve. it’s dry and hot and only manages to move the heat sideways. insects click and rattle against the walls, fruit vendors cut their watermelons fast to keep the juices from turning sour on the spot. everywhere, people sweat and complain and tie their hair up without style. even the hokage monument looks tired. no mission scrolls come in past 9 a.m, it’s too hot to kill anything.

ino organized the beach trip because she’d had enough of it. she said she couldn’t stand another minute stuck in landlocked misery. she talked a big game about mental clarity and chakra regulation but everyone knew she just wanted to wear her high-cut one-piece and watch the boys get stupid. she was right to. everyone said yes without question.

you told naruto three days ahead so he wouldn’t claim he forgot. still, the morning of, he’d been kneeling in front of the fan with his head tilted back, trying to cool his neck, hair a little wet from the shower, watching you step into your bikini with startling focus. you didn’t perform it for him and arch or sway or pause mid-tie but he still felt like he was being rewarded for something. so completely focused. the bikini was light blue with tiny white polka dots, your toenails were already painted. you didn’t even need to ask how it looked. he was chewing too slow, swallowing all wrong, blinking the tears out of his eye.

“you can’t wear that outside,” he said, grabbing your wrist.

“too late,” you said, dragging him out by the same arm.

at the beach, everyone split off too fast. lee ran straight toward the rocks. kiba started hollering about the size of the waves. shino laid down a towel and sat quietly in his bucket hat. choji opened a cold bag full of crab meat. ino dragged sakura off toward the cliffs with a cooler. by the time you both arrived, the sand was already hot enough to jump over and everyone had picked spots. naruto flung your towels down near the center and immediately kicked off his sandals to run straight into the water.

you didn’t even notice naruto was gone until you finished pressing your palms against your thighs and realized no one had rubbed sunscreen into your back.

he was crouched near the shoreline with shikamaru, throwing something into the surf and talking with his hands. the sun was already turning his shoulders a darker bronze. you stood up, walked over, and kicked sand into his shin.

“hey. you forgot me.”

he flinched and blinked up. “forgot what?”

you dropped the sunscreen bottle into his lap. “my back.”

he groaned and looked away. “why can’t you just do it?”

“i can’t reach the middle.”

“then do half and fold forward. problem solved.”

you stared at him. “naruto.”

“what? it’s not like—”

“fine. i’ll ask shikamaru.”

“don’t you dare.” he stood up instantly, sunscreen bottle clutched like a mission scroll. “i’m doing it. i’m doing it right now.”

you walked back to your towel, sat with your legs folded sideways, and undid the knot behind your neck. he dropped down beside you with a sigh that was louder than necessary and uncapped the bottle. the lotion hit your lower back first, too cold, as always. he spread it with his full palm, too fast and not even trying to be thorough.

“you’re gonna give me patches,” you muttered.

“i’m doing my best.”

“no you’re not. you’re sulking.”

“i’m not sulking, i just—shut up.” he used both hands now. dragged them up toward your shoulder blades. he made little snorting sounds when his fingers slipped. you stayed still and let him work, biting down your grin. he groans under his breath in a tone that can only be interpreted as impatience. in retaliation, he digs his thumbs into your lower back harder than necessary, his eyes shoot open like he’s surprised when you arch away.

“ow!”

“don’t provoke me.”

you twist around and give him a look. he leans in close.

“i’m taking you into the water after this,” he says. “you don’t get to look like that and stay dry.”

you bite your lip. his fingers rest on your hips, slow.

“don’t try to drown me,” you say.

“depends how mouthy you get.”

after he finished, you didn’t offer him thanks. instead, you turned to face him and pressed your hands to his chest.

“your turn.”

“what?”

“you’re already getting pink.”

“i’m fine.”

“if you burn, you’re sleeping on your stomach for a week. and i’m not massaging anything.”

he squinted at you like he was trying to decide whether or not to argue again. “i’ll do it myself.

he squirts out too much. it drips between his fingers. he starts rubbing it into his cheeks with both palms like he’s washing his face. you wince.

“you’re doing it all wrong,” you say, getting up. “come here.”

“what—why? i got it.”

“you’re missing your ears. and your nose. and that thing you do where you just rub your forehead and call it done isn’t working.”

he doesn’t budge. you grab his chin and tilt his face toward you. his cheeks are hot. his blue eyes are narrowed, faint lines creased around them from squinting at the sun. his whisker marks darken when he’s flustered. he’s flustered now.

you squirt a little into your palm and start with his temples, pushing gently, working inward. your fingers press the lotion into the bridge of his nose and down across his jaw. his stubble’s starting to come in. not much, just enough to scrape your fingertips.

he stares at your mouth while you do it. his hand finds your thigh without thinking.

“you look good,” he says. “the blue. ‘s not fair.”

you ignore that. you drag your nails under his chin, feather-light, spreading the last of the sunscreen across his throat. his adam’s apple jumps. you squeezed more of the bottle into your palm and shoved him onto his back. he made a grunt of protest but didn’t resist.

his skin was hot already. not burned, but it would be if he stayed out like this. you straddled his thighs and started at his collarbones, rubbing the sunscreen in firm, straight motions. his skin was dense and tight from training, lined with faint scars.

“stop looking at me like that.”

“i can’t help it.”

you rolled your eyes and smoothed another layer across his stomach. his abs tensed under your fingers. everyone here had abs, it was almost comical, but naruto’s were the only ones you got to touch this closely. he tried not to react but you could feel him shift under you, breath catching.

“that tickles,” he said.

“you’re such a child.”

you leaned forward to get his shoulders, and your chest pressed into his sternum. he looked like he was holding his breath.

“you’re doing this on purpose,” he muttered.

“of course i am.”

you finished up with a slap to his side and rolled off. he lay there for a minute with his eyes shut, pretending to die.

eventually, kiba called him over again, and he bolted upright like he’d just remembered his entire identity. you let him run off this time. you laid back, crossed your ankles, and let the sun hit the same spot he’d just touched.

ino yelled something rude from down the shore. sakura laughed. shikamaru was already asleep under his towel.

you had time. and you’d make him reapply later.

[sellyourshadownotyoursoul]

DP x DC WIP: Magical Sugar Daddy

The world exists in shades of green. Everywhere Jason looks he sees sickness and death and the perverted unfairness of it all.

There's blood on his boots, accompanied by the pleasant ache of tired muscles. His hand is still buzzing from the recoil of his gun - the breath in his lungs is tinged with cigarette smoke, dry and acidic.

There's been a presence behind him for a while now, trailing after him no matter what he does to lose the tail. It's like a prickle of static in the air, faint enough to dismiss for anyone less paranoid.

Jason's body is a spring wound too tight, the metal screeching in protest as the feeling of being watched intensifies.

A week and change since he's had a moment of peace.

When he hears the scuffle of a shoe on the quiet rooftop it's no wonder he explodes into action.

The trigger is pulled before he's even turned his head, a roar of thunder in his ears. The butt of his gun misses its target by a hair's breadth as he brings it down in an arc followed up by a kick that finally earns him a reaction. The figure grunts in pain and surprise, but the step it takes backwards isn't one of staggered retreat. It's a pivot on a heel and a coil of muscle before Jason's stalker is vaulting over the smokestack at their side, launching them back into the fight proper.

Jason growls low in his throat, like his lungs do not exchange oxygen for carbon dioxide but what he exhales is instead a heady mix of hunger and rage. There's an answering sound, a hiss pitched high at the end as the two of them clash once more.

Jason blocks a punch and pushes the muzzle of his gun against an unguarded shoulder, point blank. His target flinches hard enough that the shot only clips them but that gives Jason the opportunity for a follow-up punch to the jaw.

The hood of his stalker falls to their shoulders and Jason answers the grin on their face with a baring of teeth hidden behind his mask.

Jason gets a kick to the ribs while he reloads the gun and subsequently opts to just holster the thing so he can have both hands free. The other asshole isn't much bigger than Jason and their guard is sloppy.

He won't need weapons for this.

A misstep from his opponent has Jason surging forward to fling them over the edge of the roof before a flip that would make Dickie proud reverses their positions. It forces Jason to roll under a kick so he isn't the one meeting the pavement at lethal velocity.

His attacker appears male, age unclear but certainly out of their twenties. Jason grabs the snowy white braid that flows behind them and feels a rush at the gasp that pulls from the guy, even as the retaliation gets him an uppercut that makes his vision swim.

Jason twists the hair around his fist, forcing the head it's attached to into the pavement at their feet.

He slams it down once, twice, before a leg around his own has him lose his balance. He lands on his elbow and curses at the pain shooting through it even as he gets back up and rounds on his opponent. He blocks a punch by diverting it outwards, stepping back and to the side so the fight stays in the center of the roof.

There's blood running freely down the other man's front from a nose that Jason bets is broken, the liquid looks jet black in Jason's monochromatic world of sickly lazarus green.

The eyes watching him are wide and alert, a manic edge to them from the bared fangs and the tense posture. They both surge forward, trading blows and kicks until they're breathing heavy and Jason can tell his opponent is flagging.

The way they move makes it clear they're not a fighter, at least not one with a preference for hand-to-hand. They keep up with Jason just barely, but it's already clear who the winner is going to be, even as Jason lets it drag out until there's sweat running down his back.

A kick from Jason's steel toed boot against an unarmored shin is what finally ends it. His opponent falls to the ground with a curse and they don't get back up even as Jason looms over them. Their eyes are half-lidded, hands sprawled out limply above their head in defeat, but there's a smile on their face that really tests Jason's ability to suppress the urge to tear out their throat. He places a boot on the guy's sternum and puts enough weight on it to show he's serious.

A low sound, a mix of a grunt and a laugh, precedes a weak attempt to buck Jason off but he doesn't budge.

“Talk,” Jason rasps.

A dark tongue swipes through the drying blood on his assailant’s lips and they cough wetly before responding.

“Nice to meet you,” is what he says, strained from the pressure on his lungs, “fuck, you're good.”

“Who sent you?” Jason's demand is curious but dripping with derision. Who would send a fucking prodigy of stealth just to have them suck at actually taking out the target?

Jason hadn't been able to lose this stalker for over a week, had gotten litterally zero intel on who this fucker is despite having Oracle and half his own men on high alert.

And then the guy just walks up and scuffs his shoe against the pavement?

Suicide by Red Hood much?

“Technically Clockwork, but I'm not really-” the guy coughs again, trying to breathe, “not really someone people can send.”

Jason prompts him to continue with an addition of pressure to his ribs. He doesn't feel any sort of armor under the neutral hoodie, nor do the cargo pants look like they're in any way reinforced. They're clean though and clearly not the kind of worn Jason expects for someone trying to blend in this side of town. No camouflage tech unless it's nano-sized.

The man wrinkles his nose, eyes flicking down to the boot and back up to Jason's face.

“Okay, look I know I'm late, but I'm here to apologize,” he says with another little grunt and a wiggle. Jason keeps him pinned.

“I didn't actually know you were mine until a year ago-”

“Yours?” Jason scoffs, something sour rising in his gut.

“Yeah?”

“I don't fucking belong to you,” Jason states darkly, one hand unholstering his gun.

There isn't any immediate reaction to the escalation, but Jason can feel a strange charge in the air. The body underneath him certainly doesn't relax.

“Fuck, okay sure, yeah, no ownership,” the guy huffs but the voice is not nearly as afraid as it should be, “that's kind of, ah, what I wanted to talk about.”

“And if I tell you to fuck off?”

“Then I'll fuck off.”

Jason pauses, tilting his head in consideration.

“Who are you?” Jason's question is wary and curt, a final offer to change his mind before he cocks his gun. The guy under him watches with bright, intense eyes, seemingly unperturbed by the monster looming above.

“I'm the reason you're still alive, Jason.”

Jason laughs coldly at the boldness of that statement.

“Bullshit,” he spits.

The eyes continue to watch him, appearing to glow in the faint light. The guy's face is set in a grimace, but it's one of mild inconvenience rather than pain. He should have a concussion at least, not to mention a fracture or two, so he's either trained to withstand pain or some kind of meta. Maybe he's hopped up on some new drug that's got him unaware of the damage. A byproduct of whatever made him so difficult to track.

Neither of them are panting anymore.

“Last chance,” Jason drawls as he takes aim at a damp forehead, already feeling the anticipatory rush that comes with taking a life.

He is admittedly not intending to let this little stalker live no matter what comes out of his mouth. Not when he knows Jason's name, not when there might not be another chance to tie up the loose end.

The guy seems aware of it too, eyes flickering over Jason's mask as if trying to find the right combination of words to buy just a little more time.

He opens his mouth, closes it again.

He sighs through his nose, a wet sound when it displaces the coagulating blood, and lets his head fall back against the concrete rooftop. The message seems clear in the resigned set of his shoulders and Jason feels an irrational indignance at being denied the struggle.

Nevertheless he pulls the trigger.

BANG

The sound echoes into the distance until it blends into every other incriminating noise Gotham makes at night. Jason frowns down at the would-be corpse.

He couldn't have missed, not with the muzzle barely a foot from its target - but there's no bullet hole marring the face at his feet. The eyes remain alive and aware as they watch Jason's growing confusion.

“What the fuck,” he mutters.

That earns him a stuffy snort. The man's hands flare out as if to say ‘ta-dah’ and only flinch minutely when Jason sends another bullet into him.

“Rude,” the guy comments, in the cadence of someone annoyed rather than relieved.

“What are you,” Jason demands in response, forcefully holstering his gun now that it has proven to be worthless. Looks like fists are going to be the way forward.

“Loaded question,” the guy groans unhelpfully, pushing at Jason's leg with little success.

Jason makes a point of momentarily increasing the pressure, staring the fucker down through the whiteouts of his mask.

“You survived a lazarus pit,” stalker offers, the words a sucker punch to an unhealed wound that Jason refuses to acknowledge, “which means you accepted the price that comes with it, whether you knew about it or not.”

“And that explains what, exactly?”

“You asked what I am,” the guy shrugs.

“And you still haven't answered.”

There's a moment where stalker-guy gazes up into the cloudy, dark sky, hands settling from their attempts to remove Jason's boot to instead tap idly against the leather. The fingers are long and thin, the kind an author might describe as suited for playing the piano, the nails neither bitten to the quick nor so long as to appear unkempt. Jason feels a sudden urge to break those fingers one by one just to see if that might yield a more satisfying reaction. Or some answers. His eyes catch on a sleek black band on the ring-finger of the guy's left hand and wonders momentarily if his shadow’s got someone waiting for him. He pities them.

“Price,” Jason prompts, “explain.”

“Right, yeah I can do that-do you mind stepping off? The bullets are digging into my back-”

“Maybe if you give me a reason to,” Jason retorts with a sneer, feeling the absolute furthest from any notion of ‘charitable’.

Stalker-guy sighs.

“Got it, okay, so, I'm basically your magical sugar-daddy-”

“My fucking what-” Jason chokes, feeling distinctly like the gravity of the situation is doing loop-de-loops.

“Your patron. Your new one, anyway,” the guy shrugs again, as if that's a concept that's common knowledge.

Jason forces air into his lungs. The world flickers.

“You paid your soul to my predecessor and he gave you back your memories.”

Jason's insides are made of cracked glass and every syllable pushes further up against it. Isn't the pit rage enough of a price?

“I came to introduce myself,” Jason's apparent ‘magical sugar-daddy’ continues conversationally, “which I guess I still haven't, technically.”

Jason's hands are white-knuckled fists, his vision is green and tunneling. From the moment he had him pinned every word out of his stalker's mouth has done nothing but add more fuel to the anger sitting low in Jason’s gut. The need for this piece of shit to at least have the decency to be afraid.

Talking about Jason's fucking soul - about paying the price and book-ending it with a term as crass as ‘sugar-daddy’ is so discordant it is almost physically painful. Mentioning the pits and claiming to have saved Jason's life in such a blasé manner has him writhing with indignation. The condescension drips from him and his every action, too similar to-

Jason's spiraling is interrupted by a change to his balance. His foot on the guy's chest hits the concrete underneath, the sight of his calf sticking out of what should have been a living, breathing body causing a momentary stutter in Jason's reality.

Then the guy is on his feet, reaching out a hand as if they weren't at each other's throats a moment ago. As if the bullets lodged in the concrete weren't intended for one of their heads. As if he cannot sense the raw malice pouring out of Jason.

“I'm Danny, sorry for the wait.”

[viviansturns]

just for the summer ☾. - final part

cw: this series will contain kissing, p in v sex, a shit ton of fluff and angst.

series masterlist

Chris’s door clicks shut behind you with a soft thunk, the late-morning sun streaking across the floor. You drop your bag with a groan and stretch, watching him kick off his shoes like he can’t get comfortable fast enough.

“Home sweet home,” he says, flopping on the couch.

You snort. “Your place is a disaster.”

He lifts his head just enough to glare playfully. “Um—There’s a system.”

You toe a balled-up hoodie across the floor. “Yeah. A system of not cleaning.”

He sticks out his tongue, but the corner of his mouth twitches into a grin. You try to keep your face stern, but it cracks, and he jumps up, seizing the chance to kiss you right there in the narrow hallway, fingers warm on your waist.

“Breakfast?” he mumbles against your lips.

“Only if you promise not to poison me this time.”

He gasps, scandalized, then immediately heads for the tiny kitchen, beckoning you dramatically like a maître d’.

Cooking with Chris is predictably awful. He tries to show off cracking eggs one-handed and drops half the shell into the pan. You fish it out while he’s cursing, then burn the toast so badly you set off the smoke alarm.

He fans it with a cutting board, hacking coughs through his laughter. “Gourmet, huh?”

You shove him. “Shut up, Gordon Ramsay.”

He gets revenge by smearing jam on your cheek, to which you respond by flicking batter at his shirt. He gasps and lunges, trapping you against the counter, the sticky mess between you.

Your laughter dies down into silence as he leans in close, breath tickling your lips.

“Seriously,” he says, voice low. “You’re the best part of my summer.”

You blink at him, heart stuttering. Then you roll your eyes and kiss him hard, just to stop yourself from saying something you can’t take back.

____________

You’re still laughing about the burnt pancakes as they tumble out onto his front steps, the late-morning sun already hot on the cracked concrete.

He squints at you, shielding his eyes with one hand. “We need a palate cleanser after that disaster.”

“Oh yeah?” You cross your arms, skeptical.

“A drive,” he declares. “Just the wind and my amazing playlist.”

You roll your eyes, but you���re smiling. “Fine. But I’m not listening to your goofy ass music.”

“Excuse you. Those are cultural touchstones.”

He grabs your wrist and tugs you after him before you can keep arguing.

____________

The car is a sauna when he unlocks it, both of you swearing as you scramble in and crank the AC.

“God,” you groan, fanning yourself with one of his old fast-food receipts.

“Sexy,” he says. You kick his shin gently. He retaliates by leaning over and kissing your cheek—quick, soft, like he can’t help himself.

You try not to smile too much.

____________

On the road, the windows are cracked just enough to let the wind whip your hair around. Chris’s playlist is a mess of indie, old hip hop, and pop songs which he knows every word to.

He raps along with absurd commitment.

You film him on your phone for evidence, cracking up so hard you almost drop it.

“Delete that,” he orders between verses.

“Never.”

He reaches over and tries to snatch your phone. You twist away, laughing, and he gives up, grabbing your knee instead and squeezing.

You go quiet at that. His thumb brushing back and forth absentmindedly.

The road curves past the edge of town. Out where it’s green and sprawling, with nothing but fields and trees for miles.

You press your forehead to the window for a second.

“It’s gonna suck leaving,” you murmur.

Chris doesn’t answer right away. Just squeezes your knee a little tighter.

____________

He eventually pulls over at a quiet lookout point neither of you have bothered to visit all summer.

The view’s nothing special. Just trees, rooftops in the distance. But the breeze is nice. The obnoxious sound of a cicada— which felt like it was right near your ear—rang.

He drags himself out of the car, stretches, and then leans back against the hood.

You come stand beside him, arms brushing.

“Bet you’ll miss this shithole,” you say, nose scrunching.

He glances sideways. “Yeah. Bet you will too.”

You shrug. Try to make your voice casual. “Maybe.”

His fingers find yours and thread them together.

____________

You sit on the hood together for a while, saying nothing.

Just listening to birds and cicadas and the occasional passing car.

He lets go of your hand to dig in his pocket and comes up with an old ballpoint pen.

You give him a look. “What.”

He ignores you, catches your wrist, and starts drawing.

It tickles. You squirm. “Chris—”

“Hold still.”

You roll your eyes but obey, letting him concentrate.

He sticks his tongue out the side of his mouth in intense focus.

When he finally lets you look, there’s a wobbly little cartoon sun smiling on your forearm.

“Wow,” you deadpan. “A true artist.”

He shrugs, smug. “Now you can’t forget me. You’ll have to think about me every time you see it.”

You smack his shoulder lightly, but you don’t scrub it off.

____________

Eventually, you both slide off the car and wander down the little dirt path behind the overlook.

It leads nowhere in particular. Just a scrubby clearing with a half-broken picnic bench.

Chris sets his phone on a rock and props it up.

“What are you doing?”

“Memory insurance,” he says.

He drags you in for a selfie, your faces too close and sunburned, cheeks smushed together. He snaps three in a row before you can complain.

You try to look annoyed but you’re giggling by the end.

When you look at the last photo, you’re both actually smiling for real. No irony, no posing.

Your stomach twists a little.

____________

On the way back to the car, he links pinkies with you instead of holding your whole hand.

It’s dumber. It’s better.

When you look at him, his gaze is already on you, dark and warm and complicated.

He doesn’t say Don’t go.

You don’t say I’ll miss you.

You don’t have to.

You’re both quiet on the drive back. Not in an awkward way. Just…tired in that sun-soaked, content way.

His arm rests on the console between you, fingers drumming against it. Every now and then your pinky brushes his, and you feel his fingers curl slightly like he wants to hold your hand but is too distracted by the road.

“Stop staring,” he says, eyes on the windshield.

You snort. “I’m literally not.”

“Are too.”

You reach over and flick his ear. He flinches, then glares at you with exaggerated offense.

“Ow,” he says flatly.

“You’ll survive.”

He turns onto his street too fast, tires squealing just a little. You yelp and brace a hand on the dash.

“Jesus, Chris.”

“Whoops.” He grins. “I just like seeing you all flustered.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re an idiot.”

“You're cute.”

Your breath hitches at that, but he’s already smirking like he knows exactly what he did.

____________

When you get back to his place, it’s quieter than before.

The air feels thicker somehow.

He kicks the door shut behind you with a thud that seems too loud in the silence.

You hover in the entryway for a second, backpack slung over your shoulder, trying to figure out what to do with your hands.

He doesn’t say anything. Just sets his keys down and turns to look at you.

You meet his gaze and try to smirk. “What. Gonna draw more on me?”

He hums, stepping closer. His fingers brush your arm where the little sun is already smudging from sweat.

“Could,” he murmurs.

You stare at each other for a beat too long.

And then he kisses you.

Not rushed. Not wild like last night.

Just soft.

He moves slowly, mouth gentle, fingers brushing your jaw like you’ll break if he holds too tight.

You make a tiny noise against him, your hands finding his waist and pulling him closer anyway.

When you pull back, he rests his forehead against yours, breath warm on your cheek.

He finally pulls away, clearing his throat too loud, making the moment feel less heavy.

“Okay. Couch. Now. Movie.”

“Bossy.”

“Shut up.”

You both flop onto the couch, limbs tangling immediately. His arm loops around your shoulders. Your knees find a home draped over his.

He flips through options with one hand. You rest your cheek on his chest and watch the screen blearily, not caring what he picks.

Halfway through, you’re giggling at some joke you’ve heard before. He just looks down at you and smiles so softly you want to scream.

“Stop being cute,” you grumble.

“Can’t help it,” he says, voice low. “Look who I’m with.”

You slap his stomach lightly. He grabs your hand and kisses your knuckles, smug as hell.

You snatch your hand back, but you’re smiling. “Stop.”

He doesn’t move. Just watches you with that irritatingly fond look, his thumb brushing over your wrist.

“Make me.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Chris.”

He tilts his head. Raises an eyebrow like he’s daring you.

“Say please.”

“Oh my god.” You shove at his chest, trying to wriggle away, but he catches your arm and pulls you right back into him.

“Chris—”

But you don’t get to finish, because he’s kissing you again.

This time there’s nothing soft about it.

He mouths at you hungrily, one arm tightening around your shoulders so you can’t squirm away even if you wanted to.

Your hand fists in his shirt, yanking him closer, kissing back just as fiercely. The dumb movie drones on in the background, utterly forgotten.

He breaks away for a second, breathing hard. His eyes flick down to your mouth and then back up, pupils blown.

“Up,” he says, voice rough.

You blink. “What?”

He tugs at your arm insistently. “Get up. Come here.”

It takes you a second to realize what he means, but then you’re climbing over him, straddling his lap. His hands settle on your hips instantly, thumbs pressing little bruises into your sides.

“There,” he murmurs, like he’s satisfied now. Like you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.

You roll your eyes, but your fingers curl into his hair. “You’re so annoying.”

“Uh-huh,” he says, before kissing you again.

And this time it’s slower and deeper all at once. He licks into your mouth like he wants to taste every single part of you. You gasp when his hands slide under your shirt, palms hot on your back, pulling you closer until there’s no space at all.

You rock forward on instinct, and he groans into your mouth, biting your bottom lip just enough to make you whimper.

“Fuck,” he mutters, voice strained. “You trying to kill me?”

You grin breathlessly. “You love it.”

He huffs out a laugh, but it dissolves into another groan when you grind down again.

His hands tighten, guiding your hips. “Yeah? Like that?”

You can’t even answer, too busy rolling against him until you both feel it—heat coiling low, your breathing ragged.

You bury your face in his neck, mouthing at the skin there, sucking a bruise you know he’ll complain about later.

He shudders. “Jesus. Don’t—don’t stop.”

Your hips stutter, his fingers digging in so hard it borders on painful, but you don’t care. You want it. You want him, all of him, every single messy, desperate piece.

He bucks up to meet you, cursing under his breath.

When you finally break for air, both of you are wrecked. Cheeks flushed. Breathing like you just ran miles.

He leans his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering shut.

“Shit,” he whispers. “You’re gonna make me…”

You swallow, your voice small and wrecked. “Then do it.”

He shifts under you, the subtle grind of denim against denim making you both groan. His voice is a low rasp.

“Move.“

You shiver. Because there’s something in his tone—hoarse, pleading, almost wrecked.

You start slow, rolling your hips deliberately, feeling the friction catch right where you need it. He sucks in a sharp breath, his hands guiding you even as he tries not to rush you.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Just like that.”

Your palms flatten against his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart. He’s so warm, so solid beneath you, and every time you rock forward he meets you halfway with a subtle, upward roll of his hips that makes you gasp.

“Chris—” you whimper.

He growls low in his throat, thumbs brushing under your shirt to trace circles on your skin. “Yeah? Say it again.”

You do. Over and over. His name becomes a mantra as you move faster, chasing that dizzy, sparking heat building low in your belly.

His head falls back against the couch, jaw tight, eyes half-lidded but locked on you. Watching every shift of your body. Every bounce.

“God, look at you,” he breathes, voice shredded. “You’re so fucking pretty. Come on baby.”

Your fingers dig into his shoulders for balance as you pick up the pace, grinding down and lifting just enough to let the friction burn hot between you.

He bucks up hard once, and you moan, the sound raw and shameless.

“Shit—like that?” he pants, voice ragged.

You nod frantically. Words are gone now. You’re too busy chasing the way your clit drags just right, the way he meets you with every grind.

One of his hands slips around to your ass, squeezing hard, forcing you down even rougher. You keen at the pressure.

“Don’t stop,” he hisses. “Don’t you fucking stop.”

Your legs are shaking, thighs burning, but you can’t. Won’t. He’s looking at you like he’d die if you did.

You feel it coiling tight. Too tight. Your nails rake down his chest as your hips stutter.

He feels it too. His other hand comes up, thumb brushing over your lower lip.

“That’s it,” he says, voice cracking. “Come on, baby. Come for me.”

And you do.

You break with a sob of his name, body locking up, shaking apart in his lap. He holds you so tight you can’t fall, whispering broken praise into your hair as you ride it out.

He doesn’t stop moving, even as you tremble, riding your aftershocks.

When you sag against him, boneless, he breathes a laugh against your temple.

“Holy fuck,” he rasps.

You’re too far gone to answer, just nuzzling closer, trying to slow your breathing.

But you feel him. Hard under you. Throbbing.

He shifts under you again, voice tight.

“Um—might be your turn to help me out,” he says, trying to sound cocky but utterly wrecked.

You shift, and he swears, hips twitching up.

“Shit—don’t tease,” he rasps.

You laugh softly against his skin. “Not teasing.”

You press one last kiss to his neck, then push yourself up off his lap. He makes a wounded sound at the loss of your weight, reaching for you automatically.

But you’re already sinking to your knees in front of him.

His eyes go wide, pupils blown.

“Wait—”

You just smirk, settling between his spread legs. “Shut up.”

Your fingers hook in his waistband, dragging his sweats and boxers down just enough. He lifts his hips without even thinking, helping you.

He’s flushed, leaking, so hard it twitches when the cooler air hits.

You lick your lips deliberately.

“Jesus Christ,” he groans, head thunking back against the couch.

You run your fingers up his length first, slow and teasing, feeling the way he pulses. He chokes on a moan, hips bucking just a little.

“Relax,” you murmur, voice low and smug. “Let me.”

You lean in, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss to the tip. He shudders, a curse tumbling from his lips.

Your tongue flicks out, tasting him, slow and languid, letting his salty slickness spread over your tongue.

He’s panting already, fingers digging into the cushions.

“Fuck—”

You look up at him through your lashes, lips parted around the head, and his jaw clenches so tight you can see the muscle jump.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he growls, voice breaking.

You hum around him in response, and he loses it.

“Shit. Shit.”

You sink down further, taking him deeper inch by inch, your tongue pressing against the underside. Your spit slicks everything, messy and wet and perfect.

He’s breathing so hard you think he might pass out, one hand fumbling before settling hesitantly on your hair.

You bob your head, slow and steady, letting him feel every wet slide, every swallow. You hollow your cheeks, sucking just right, and his hips twitch.

“Baby—fuck. Gonna—”

You pull back just enough to speak, breath warm on him.

“Yeah?” you whisper, stroking him with your hand, spreading spit. “Do it.”

He groans like you’ve killed him, fingers tightening in your hair.

You go back down without mercy, sucking hard, moaning around him on purpose so the vibrations make his thighs tremble.

“Fuck—oh my god—”

His voice cracks, deep and desperate.

You feel him swell on your tongue, twitching hard.

And then he’s coming, hips jerking helplessly, one hand clamped in your hair and the other white-knuckled on the couch.

You swallow around him, letting him ride it out, sucking him through it until he gasps and tries to pull you off with trembling fingers.

You finally let him go, licking your lips slowly.

He’s wrecked.

Head thrown back. Eyes glazed. Breath ragged.

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and grin.

“Told you I’d help.”

He looks down at you, chest still heaving.

“Holy shit,” he whispers.

____________

Later that evening, you’re both washed and dressed—though Chris spent half of it pressed up against you in the shower, kissing your neck like he didn’t want to stop.

Now you’re in his truck, windows rolled down, summer air rushing in. You can still taste him on your lips, which makes you smile like an idiot.

He notices. Obviously.

“What?” he asks, glancing over with a knowing smirk.

You shake your head. “Nothing.”

He hums, eyes flicking back to the road. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

When you pull up to the house, it’s already buzzing. String lights crisscross the yard, music thumping softly from someone’s Bluetooth speaker. A cooler is propped open on the porch, half-filled with beer and melting ice.

You can hear laughter before you’re even out of the car.

Chris kills the engine and just sits there for a second. Fingers tapping the steering wheel.

“Hey,” you say, bumping your shoulder against his. “Don’t be weird.”

He scoffs. “Me? Never.”

You lean over and kiss his cheek. “Liar.”

He blushes, ears turning red. You want to bite them.

Inside, it’s all easy smiles and shouted greetings. A few of Chris’s friends you recognize from other nights—some you don’t.

But they know you.

Or at least, they know you’re her. The girl Chris has been hopelessly, obviously into all summer.

You feel the way eyes follow you when he rests a hand on your back, steering you toward the porch.

“Look who it is,” Justin says, voice all mock drama, arms wide like he’s going to hug you.

You roll your eyes but hug him anyway. He smells like beer and cologne.

“You here to babysit my brother?” he asks loudly enough for everyone to hear.

Chris flips him off over your shoulder.

“She’s here to rescue me from your annoying ass,” Chris says.

Justin just grins. “Sure. For now. Until she abandons you to go back to Toronto.”

The word hangs in the air a second too long.

You clear your throat. “Yeah, okay. Dickhead.”

He laughs, unbothered, handing you a beer from the cooler.

Someone turns the music up. People filter in and out of the house, spilling onto the porch and the patchy grass beyond.

You end up wedged onto a rickety patio couch with Chris and two of his friends. Your legs drape over his lap automatically, and he rests a hand on your ankle like he owns it.

Every time someone makes a joke, you feel him looking at you first.

Checking if you’re laughing.

Checking if you’re okay.

Justin flops down next to you at one point, cracking another beer.

“You know he’s gonna cry when you leave, right?”

You snort. “Please.”

Chris glares. “Justin.”

“No, seriously.” Justin leans forward, conspiratorial. “You got tissues in your bag or what?”

You smack his arm. He yelps dramatically.

“I’ll cry first,” you mumble, but only Chris hears. His fingers tighten on your hand.

There’s a firepit out back, the smoke wafting in lazy spirals.

Someone breaks out a guitar, playing horrible music (co-worker music…)

Someone else produces a half-melted bag of marshmallows.

You and Chris move closer to the heat, finding space on an overturned log. He sits behind you this time, arms around your waist, chin hooked over your shoulder.

You lean back into him without thinking.

His breath is warm against your ear. “You warm enough?”

You hum. “Yeah.”

He presses a kiss to your hairline.

“You smell like smoke,” you tease.

“Good,” he mumbles. “Means you’ll remember it.”

You don’t say anything to that.

You don’t have to.

Justin stumbles over at one point, drunk as hell, forcing everyone into a blurry group selfie.

“Smile!”

Chris flips him off.

You’re laughing so hard you can’t keep your eyes open in the photo.

Later, people thin out. The fire dies down to glowing coals. Justin is passed out half on a lawn chair, snoring loud enough to scare off raccoons.

You and Chris wander off down the side of the house, beers in hand, needing air.

The grass is wet with dew. Crickets chirp in the dark.

He stops walking and just…stares at you.

“What,” you whisper.

“Come here,” he says, voice too rough.

You step in, close enough to see the way his eyes shine in the moonlight.

He sets his beer down, grabs your face with both hands, and kisses you.

Hard.

Desperate.

You kiss him back like you’re drowning.

He breaks it only to pant against your lips.

“Don’t,” he breathes.

You swallow. “Don’t what.”

“Don’t think about leaving yet.”

Your heart lurches.

You watch him sadly. “Chris—you know I have t—.”

He interrupts you by kissing you again, softer this time. Like he’s sorry. Like he’s trying to say everything he can’t.

When you finally pull apart, his thumb is rubbing circles on your cheek, eyes locked on yours.

“Let’s go back,” you whisper.

“Yeah.”

He links your fingers together.

And you both head back toward the dying firelight.

____________

You don’t say much on the drive back from the bonfire.

The radio is low, some old rock ballad crackling through the static, and neither of you reaches to turn it off.

The car smells like smoke and marshmallows. Your hair is still warm from the fire. Your face hurts from smiling at friends.

He parks in front of his place and kills the engine.

Neither of you moves at first.

Then he sighs. “Come on.”

You follow him inside.

The door closes behind you with a click that sounds too final.

He drops his keys on the counter. You let your bag slip to the floor.

You stand there for a second, facing each other.

He’s got that look again—like he’s memorizing you.

It pisses you off.

Because you’re doing it too.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you mumble.

“Like what.”

“Like it’s over.”

His jaw tightens. He looks away. “It’s not.”

Your voice cracks. “Feels like it.”

He doesn’t argue. Just crosses the room in two steps and wraps his arms around you.

You bury your face in his chest, breathing him in.

Neither of you speaks for a long time.

When you finally pull back, you take his hand without asking and tug him toward the bedroom.

He doesn’t fight it.

You both strip down to underwear, wordlessly, as if you’ve done it a hundred times. 

You crawl under the covers together and immediately find each other.

Your legs tangle. His arm slides under your neck so you can use him as a pillow. Your hand rests over his heart, feeling it race like yours.

He exhales shakily. “You warm enough?”

You nod. Your voice is quiet. “You?”

“Yeah.”

Silence.

You look up at him in the dim light. He’s already watching you.

“Chris…”

He doesn’t let you finish. Just leans in and kisses you.

It’s not hungry. It’s not playful.

It’s slow.

He kisses you like he’s trying to say everything he’s too stubborn to say out loud.

You kiss back just as carefully, your thumb brushing his cheek, memorizing the scratch of stubble.

When you break apart, you rest your forehead against his.

You’re both breathing hard for no good reason.

“I don’t want to go,” you whisper.

He closes his eyes. Swallows.

“Then don’t.”

It’s not a command. It’s a plea.

Your chest aches. You want to say yes. You want to say okay.

But you don’t.

Instead you press your lips to his temple. His cheek. The corner of his mouth.

You feel his breath hitch. His arm tightens around your waist like he can keep you here if he just holds hard enough.

“Promise me you’ll miss me,” you mumble against his skin.

He huffs out a sad laugh. “That’s a threat.”

You smile, even though tears are threatening. “Good.”

He rolls onto his back, pulling you half on top of him. His fingers draw nonsense patterns on your spine.

You press your ear to his chest, listening to his heart.

He’s quiet for a long time. Then:

“Stay up with me?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

So you do.

You talk in low voices about nothing. Favorite movies. Dumb inside jokes. You tease him until he threatens to kick you out of bed, but his arm never loosens.

At one point you both go quiet, and he just holds you so tight you can feel his pulse everywhere.

____________

It’s too early.

The sky is only just paling at the edges when you load your bag into the trunk. The air has that thin, breathless chill of dawn, but your palms are sweating.

Chris stands a few feet away on the gravel, arms crossed, hoodie pulled tight.

Neither of you says much.

You close the trunk and lean against it, staring at your shoes. Your aunt waits for you in the car, purposefully trying to give you privacy.

He clears his throat. “You got everything?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

Silence.

Birds are starting to sing in the trees. It feels rude. Like the world is already moving on while you’re stuck here, trying to figure out how to make this stop.

You glance at him. His jaw is tight, mouth a hard line.

He’s angry. But not at you.

You push off the car and close the distance, fists bunching in his hoodie.

“Chris.”

He doesn’t look at you right away.

You tilt your head. “Hey.”

Finally, his eyes find yours. Red-rimmed.

Your heart cracks.

“Don’t,” he says hoarsely.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t make this worse.”

You let out a tiny, pathetic laugh. “It’s already bad.”

He squeezes his eyes shut like he hates that you’re right.

You bury your face in his chest. His arms come up instantly, crushing you against him.

It’s not a gentle hug.

It’s all of it.

The last week. The nights tangled together. The laughing. The fighting. The way you couldn’t get enough. The way you still want more.

He presses his face into your hair and breathes you in.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, voice cracking.

You can’t help it—you start crying, silent and hot against his hoodie.

He feels you shake and just holds you tighter.

You try to speak but your voice breaks.

He shushes you. “Hey. Hey. Don’t.”

But he’s crying too.

It’s messy. Ugly. Both of you sniffling, refusing to let go.

When you finally pull back enough to see his face, your hands cradle his jaw, thumbs brushing his wet cheeks.

He looks at you like he wants to memorize everything.

His mouth opens like he’s going to say it.

The word.

But he doesn’t.

Neither do you.

Instead, you kiss him.

Hard.

Desperate.

Your teeth clash. Your noses bump. It’s not pretty, but it’s real.

You both gasp against each other’s mouths like you’re drowning.

When you finally part, you rest your foreheads together.

His voice is wrecked.

“Text me.”

You nod, swallowing the sob that wants out. “Yeah.”

“Promise.”

“I promise.”

He drags in a shaky breath. “Come back.”

Your fingers tighten on his hoodie.

“I will.”

He swallows hard. “Don’t forget me.”

That one breaks you.

You squeeze your eyes shut, tears leaking out anyway.

“Never.”

He kisses you one last time, so soft it’s almost nothing.

You step away.

It feels wrong. Like leaving your heart behind.

He doesn’t move. Just stands there, hands balled into fists, watching you like if he blinks you’ll disappear.

You open the car door and look back at him one more time.

He tries to smile. Fails.

You get in. Start the engine.

As you pull away, you watch him in the rearview mirror.

Standing in the gravel drive, hoodie too big, eyes bright even in the dawn light.

He raises a hand.

You don’t think you’ll ever forget the way it looks, small and far away and so fucking final.

Your throat burns.

You wipe your eyes, focusing on the road. Your aunt puts a comforting hand on your shoulder.

And you keep driving.

____________

Epilogue

You hear the cicadas first.

A year later and they still sound exactly the same.

Loud. Relentless. Like the heat itself has a voice that refuses to be ignored.

You lean back against the porch rail, closing your eyes for a second. The sun is already too hot on your skin even though it’s barely morning.

In your lap rests a crisp letter—this year’s internship acceptance. The one you didn’t get last summer, the one that changed everything.

You remember your aunt’s voice floating through her kitchen, a week ago.

“You’re coming back to the cottage this weekend, right? Thought you could use a break before the internship starts.”

You imagine the quiet lake, the soft rustle of trees, the smell of pine and water. The place that became a refuge when things felt like they were slipping away.

For a moment, it’s last summer all over again.

The headlights on empty roads. His laughter in the passenger seat. Music you argued about for hours.

Stolen kisses behind the bonfire, the way his hair smelled like smoke for days.

His voice in the dark. Whispered jokes. That one terrible goodbye.

Text me.

Come back.

Don’t forget me.

You didn’t.

God, the two of you had tried.

You breathe in so deep it almost hurts. The air is thick with summer and memory.

Your phone is heavy in your pocket.

You haven’t talked in weeks. Not really. Just scattered check-ins that felt too careful. You used to call, right after the summer. But things got busy for the two of you. You, with your university major, and him with his recent influencer fame.

Your fingers itch for it anyway.

You open your eyes. The world is bright. Green and buzzing and alive.

Just like it was last year.

You fish out your phone. Turn it over in your hands.

You think about his grin. That stupid crooked smile. The way he hugged you like he thought it might be the last time.

You swallow.

You scroll to his name.

Your thumb hovers over the keyboard.

Somewhere in the trees, the cicadas scream.

You start to type.

a/n - YUHHHH that's the end of my summer series. kinda sad that this one didn't do that well but thank you to everyone that did read it!!!!

this was a pretty short series, but it's my favourite one for sureee!! anyways thank you, love you guyss!

go here if you want to be added to my taglist <3

[odxrilove]

SHINYU ☆ 06:49PM

pairing: shinyu (shin junghwan) x reader

contents/warnings: fluff, friends/classmates to ?, it's cold n snowing n shinyu is gorgeous yaya, requested by anon!

a/n: im back from my little break :P (i think....) anyways here's my first tws fic hehe

back to masterlist!

“no need to keep waiting, the bus isn’t coming.”

you whip your head around, coming face to face with shinyu, your classmate. your mouth opens slightly in shock, eyes narrowing at him. a soft ‘what’ flows out of your mouth in disbelief and when you turn back to look at the bus stop display, the bright yellow words ‘out of service’ flickering.

you groan loudly, throwing your head back, “you’re kidding me…”.

behind you, shinyu snickers, readjusting his backpack as he makes his way over to you. “c’mon yn~ let’s walk together.”

his laugh makes you look at him, eyes softening at the genuine sound. the sky above you two is dark, stars sparkling and making the snow stand out. as he approaches you, you can’t help but notice his drowsy eyes and ruffled hair.

you freeze slightly as he swiftly places his hand on your shoulder, gently squeezing it, a smile on his face. your cheeks turn red and it takes you a few seconds to follow him, taking bigger steps to catch up with him.

shinyu stuffs his hands in his pockets when you reach him, head tilting sideways as he makes eye contact with you. “busy day, class pres’?”

you scoff, swatting at his arm playfully, “stop it! i’m not even class president–”

“but you will be~” he smirks, pushing you with his shoulder in retaliation. “i’ll be your first vote when the elections start.”

a soft smile takes over your face and you have to bite back a laugh at his mischievous tone. you hide your face even deeper in your fluffy scarf, attempting to shield yourself from the cold.

you and shinyu had known each other for a few years now, always ending up in the same class since 7th grade. in your first year of highschool, you two had been thrown into a group project together with three classmates you weren’t fond of, thus relying on each other. since that day, you’ve been quite close, a lovely friendship blossoming.

that’s also when you realized what you felt for your classmate was more than friendship– not that you’d ever tell him.

it also helped that you two lived in the same neighborhood, your houses a five-minute walk from each other.

even if you’d never purposefully bring up your growing feelings for your friend and classmate, you allowed yourself to indulge in moments like these, where you two were alone, finding comfort in each other’s presence– especially after a stressful day.

shinyu was never the type of person to show he was feeling down but you pride yourself in knowing him quite well, so it wasn’t really difficult to notice when he felt uneasy and when he needed a break.

and when it was a bad day, it wasn’t unusual for the both of you to walk home together, deciding to skip the bus and take a detour through the park during spring.

now though, with snow covering the streets and roofs, the cold wind biting at your skin, you did somewhat miss the bus.

a sigh brings you back to earth and you glance up at shinyu, eyes expressing worry.

“it’s so cold..”, you watch as shinyu blows out air, a cloud of steam forming around you two, “but i don’t think i really mind– winter’s my favorite season.”

you look down at the ground, kicking little pebbles away with your shoes, the snow crunching under your soles. “yeah, i know.” you mutter, an airy chuckle following.

you don’t even realize what you’ve said until he turns to you, head tilted in confusion and surprise, “you do?”

your eyes meet shinyu’s for a flicker of a second before you pull your gaze away, blushing. “uh, yeah.. i-” you cough lightly, trying to hide your embarrassment as you tug at one end of your scarf, “i remember. it was one of your three fun facts about yourself on the first day of class. you said you used to lick the snow off the car windows as a kid..”

shinyu’s eyes are still on you, beaming, his footsteps matching yours. “you remember that? that was months ago!”

your face grows hot at his gaze and you can’t help but smile at his joy, the words slipping out before you can stop them. “i guess it’s easy to remember things when it comes to you.”

this time, shinyu is the one casting his eyes downward, a rosy hue taking over his cheeks. he sniffles due to the cold, his nose slightly red and you almost let a giggle escape at the sight.

when you see shinyu shiver under his puffer jacket, stuffing his hands further into his pockets, you take pity.

swiftly, you unwrap your scarf from around your neck, catching the ends of it so they don’t sweep the ground. “if winter really is your favorite season..” you stop in your tracks, grabbing his elbow gently and pulling him a step back, confusing him.

it’s only when you unfold the scarf in your arms and stand on your tippy-toes that he realizes what you’re doing, eyes widening as the soft fabric tickles his neck. mouth agape and letting out little puffs of air, he watches you stretch your arms to adjust your scarf around him, pulling at the collar of his puffer jacket.

“...then you’d know how to cover up to not get cold, you fool.”

your words flow through his ears like a melody but he doesn’t answer, still stunned at your caring gesture, only watching your lips move, your favorite pink-ish lip gloss shimmering under the streetlights.

it’s only after you pull away and continue on your walk that he’s able to get out of his awestruck state, jogging to join you again.

he buries his hands in his pockets again and almost chokes on his own tongue twice trying to thank you, ending up a stuttering mess, “t-thank you yn..”

you just nod with a smile, content that he isn’t shivering as much anymore but he glances over to you, worried that you’d grow cold instead.

after a minute or so (shinyu thinks, because he’s still a bit dazed, unaware of how much time has passed since you started to walk together), you tilt your head to his side, asking why he’s looking at you like that, eyes twinkling.

again, he stutters, trying to change topics. “y-you know.. brown is my favorite color.”

“really? well, it suits you.”

a breathy gasp leaves his mouth and he has to look up at the sky for a moment to calm down his rapidly beating heart, not expecting your answer. on the contrary, you look straight down at the ground, counting the bricks while trying to hide your reddened cheeks.

the silence surrounding you isn’t awkward or tense though, simply giving you a peaceful feeling– which you’re grateful for.

after a loud gush of wind, shinyu speaks up, his tone candid, “i also know your favorite season, by the way,” and before you can answer, he continues, stumbling over his words, “spring. spring is your favorite season because, uhm.. you used to live next to a flower field and your window had a view of it–”

you directly gape up at him, eyes blinking as if in slow-motion as he continues, your footsteps echoing through the empty street.

“you.. you like the color duck blue because of its name. and your favorite subject is history and art b-but–” he clears his throat, hiding his lower face in your scarf as he can just feel your gaze on him, “but you're suspiciously good at dodgeball in PE class, like really good.”

you grin from ear to ear, stunned, a loud laugh leaving you as you cover your mouth in disbelief. it takes you a few seconds to calm down and lower your voice, still shocked, and shinyu can only look at you, silently taking great pleasure in your reaction.

you snicker again, shaking your head. “there’s no way… that’s impressive–!” you playfully slap his arm and he doesn’t resist it. “i didn’t know you kept tabs on me~”

shinyu bites the inside of his cheek but replies evenly playful, tone teasing. “if only you knew~..“

you lean even more into this unexpected but welcome dynamic, purposefully matching your footsteps with his and piping up. “you’re good at dodgeball too– everytime we’re on the same team, we win!”

shinyu scoffs, brushing your statement off, a gentle smile covering his face. “that’s just because we make a good duo.”

finally, you both spot your favorite neighborhood convenience store from a few hundred feet away and you perk up instantly at the thought of being able to heat up and rest soon. shinyu seems to have the same idea as he speeds up a bit, puffing out air as he sighs out in relief.

suddenly he grabs your hand, holding onto your wrist gently before he intertwines his fingers with yours, thumb stroking against your soft skin as he buries both your hands in his jacket pocket, baffling you. “c’mon, we’re almost there. let’s grab something warm to drink before going home~.”

with a last look your way, one filled with adoration and satisfaction, he tightens his grip on your hand in his pocket, pulling you along with him, the flickering sign of the convenience store calling your names.

eventually, you will tell shinyu about your feelings for him. maybe.

taglist: @0x1lovebot @fairybinie @odetoyeonjun @sensitively-taken @pockyandme @soobin-chois @lolalee24 @junityy @kaimal @laylasbunbunny @jaeyunverse @enhacolor @honglynights @starry-mins @bibinnieposts @yoonzin0 @todorokiskitten @aaa-sia

please do not copy, repost or steal any of my work. all content belongs to @odxrilove

[yeeterthek33per]

Loved and Landed (Steph Catley x Reader)

A/n Requested

-------

Steph lives a busy life.

There's her football life. Obviously.

There's her schooling life.

There's the life she lives with her friends and family.

And then there's the life with-

"Steeeeeph, come on, I wanna get there early, I'm not dealing with Katie leaving something for me to find, again."

There's incessant tugging at the sleeve of her red Arsenal hoodie.

Of course, her football life keeps her the most busy.

Especially when she has to drive it to and from home all of the time now that Kyra's living in the house as well.

It had been a hectic process, but the young midfielder had settled in quickly, taking in the familiarity of the Aussie herself and her club teammates' closeness around them.

Quickly becoming a child amongst the older girls on the team, much like a sibling to them, within but a few months.

That being said.

Kyra was a little shit.

And she knew it too.

A demanding one at that.

Hence why Katie had taken to knocking the young brunette down a few pegs.

Her cockiness was starting to show under the protection of the older girls, so the Irish captain had been messing with her enough to take the invincible mindset away from her.

Leaving her ultimately latched onto Steph now.

A lot.

"Seriously, Steph, please, I can't deal with her leaving shaving foam in my boots again."

The older woman raises an eyebrow at the pleading look on Kyra's face.

"You did this to yourself, Ky. Katie's only retaliating because you decided you were king shit enough to put hair dye in her shampoo."

The younger girl whines.

"Don't you think she's retaliated enough? I've had my shoes violated, my shin guards replaced with slightly smaller ones. I mean, the other day, my water bottle was filled with pickle juice. Pickle Juice! For gods sake."

Steph sighs, rolling her eyes slightly, grabbing the last of her stuff to shove into her pack, she gestures to the front door, to which the midfielder eagerly hurries out of and towards the car, waiting impatiently for the defender to unlock it.

"You've seriously gotta apologise to Katie or something. The girl has ten siblings, I can't imagine she hasn't spent her whole life dealing with bratty behaviour from little shits like you."

Kyra scoffs as she hurriedly buckles herself in.

"Rude."

"The truth."

Steph smirks at the small pout that forms on the other girls lips.

"Hurry up and drive."

"So bossy."

-------

As expected, they arrive with hardly any other people around, decidedly much earlier than any of the other girls. Katie wasn't the earliest of player's anyway, so Kyra really shouldn't be worried about her beating them there.

Still, the youngin looks exceptionally nervous as she peaks into the changing room and gingerly makes her way over to her cubby, scanning it with a ridiculous level of detail.

Steph can only shake her head, watching the young girl sheepishly wander around the room, checking for what may well be hidden traps.

Maybe she should talk with Katie about getting her to take it down a notch.

The Irish woman was nothing if not relentless when it came to getting back at someone.

The last thing the team needed was a midfielder with serious trust issues stemming from their infamous yellow card magnet of a winger.

"Ky, relax. She's not even here yet."

"Yeah, but you never know."

"Seriously, it's game day, relax, she won't-"

"Oh, hello, you two. Stephy. Kyra."

The ever so loud and joyful Katie enters the changing room with a bang of the door as it slams open and hits the wall.

Her smirk quirks up a little wider at the sight of the midfielder, who's looking rather sheepishly around her rather than at the Irish woman herself.

"You two extra early today, eh?"

"Ha, something like that."

Steph gives her a look as she nods in Kyra's direction.

"Give the poor girl a break, would ya? I think she's been thoroughly humbled."

Katie snorts in amusement, eyeing her up.

"Eh, she’s fine. I wasn't gonna do anything."

Steph raises a brow at that.

"....Yet."

There it is.

"Of course. Don't mess around too much, though. We still have a game to play, McCabe."

She lets out an unconvincing hum in response, right as some of the other girls start to filter in, Caitlin one of the ones to settle into her cubby beside the defender.

"What's up with the kid?"

Steph snorts.

"Ask your girlfriend. She's been torturing the poor girl."

Caitlin rolls her eyes, turning to Katie, who's now got a cheeky glint in her as she eyes up the younger of the three.

"Katie."

"What? I didn't do any-"

She stops at the look she gets from the Australian, grumbling as she relents and turns back to her cubby.

-------

Kyra's finally able to escape the locker room out of sight of the defender the moment the Irish woman is distracted.

Heading down the hall towards the physio room, she ends up coming face to face with and bumping face first into someone.

She groans when she rubs at her face and her backside from where she landed on it as she stands up again with the help of her assailant.

The person is stood in a royal navy uniform, a patch on her shoulder with three horizontal gold stripes and a small circled loop on the top, hair slicked back and tight into a bun behind her head.

'L/n-Catley' the name badge reads.

Confusion crosses her face which you quickly notice.

"You're Steph's teammate right?"

"Uh yeeaah? Who are you?"

"It's a long story and sorry about the bump there. I uh, I don't know if y'all know yet but I might need your help. The staff were nice enough to let me in but I need an escort here."

"Where are you going?"

"I got told to wait for one of the trainers in the staff room?"

"Can I ask what you're doing?"

"Waiting to see Steph, but don't tell her, it's supposed to be a surprise."

Kyra is extremely sceptical, but she leads you down the hall to where the trainers are situated and one of them recognises you immediately, hugging you and dragging you into the room.

She's even more confused when the staff member is nearly in tears.

Wait.

Navy uniform.

Here to see Steph.

L/n-Catley on the name badge.

There's no way.

"Are you... Are you married to Steph?"

You chuckle softly, rubbing the back of your neck.

"Yes I am. If you can't tell it's been a little while since we've seen each other."

"Yeah, I can tell, her house is far too empty for the size of it."

"Ah, so you're the new roommate. Kyra, right?"

"She's been talking about me?"

You nod.

"We would call every two weeks. When she found out you were moving to Arsenal, I couldn't tell if she was happy or mad because you'd already trashed her white towels."

"Hey! That was not my fault, the wine just fell... on it's own."

There's a sheepish look on her face.

You chuckle softly.

"She'll be fine, the pattern was ugly anyway, we needed new towels... Don't tell her I said that."

Kyra smiles at that.

"It's great to meet you, then... How are we planning this out?"

"I'll have my sister here sneak me somewhere I can wait and surprise her at the end of the game."

She nods.

"Alright, I better get going then before the girls come looking for me for pitch inspection."

You nod back and give her a warm smile.

"Oh, I'm Y/n, by the way, Lieutenant Commander Y/n L/n-Catley."

-------

The roar of the almost entirely red and white crowd as the girls enter the pitch is as usual, deafeningly loud.

Home games are always the most adrenaline instilling games, ones where their fans are always the loudest, chanting and screaming every time one of their own touches the ball.

Steph can still hardly believe it.

The growth in the game. Breaking records every single home match so far.

The FA Cup semi-final was no different it seems.

Her eyes subtly scan the crowd as she jogs out behind the others, shifting from clapping fan to clapping fan. There's an air about the crowd.

A massively high inducing air, one that she can feel in every nerve ending in her body as she practically bounces around the pitch in warmups.

She brushes it off as it being a semi final type of high.

Aston Villa would be a difficult opponent and she assumed that was the reasoning.

-------

It seems she's proven wrong in the first ten minutes.

It doesn't take long for Stina to score, the home crowd immediately losing their minds, and they barely have time to recover just two minutes later when the Swede swoops in for the double.

By the fourty-fifth minute, they know they have the game. Four to nil over the Villans thanks to a Stina hattrick and a goal from Frida. Her heartbeat is thumping in her ears as they approach the final minute.

This is the part they're in the dark. How many minutes left of stoppage? How much longer does she have to defend?

The players are taught not to worry about that. To just play until the whistle blows. And she does.

But she can't help the nagging awaiting of the whistle, wondering when it will go.

The moment it does, there's celebration, relief, and a lot of cheering and screams and congratulation from the air around.

A pair of arms and legs wrap around her from behind as Kyra jumps on her back, the young Australian whooping into her ear.

"Onto the finals, Stephy!"

The defender chuckles and celebrates with the team, the announcer shouting out the home teams win to wind up the crowd once more.

As they do the celebration walk around the pitch, the announcer announces player of the match, and then one more announcement catches her ear.

Her head snaps toward the tunnel the moment she hears it, heart stopping at the words of the female announcer.

"And finally, one last round of applause. Let us congratulate and welcome back someone very special to one of our own. Lieutenant Commander Y/N L/n-Catley returning from fifteen months of duty at sea with the Royal Navy."

And truly, there you are, her wife.

Dressed to the nines in your Black, long sleeved uniform, hands clasped behind you, standing with a wide, almost teary smile as you watch Steph bolt across the pitch towards you, catching her with little effort as she jumps into your arms, knocking the cap off your head with the force.

The rest of the Arsenal girls stand shocked, looking between themselves and their left back at the sudden appearance of a totally new member of the Catley family.

Before they can even try to work out who you might be to Steph, the defender has her lips pressed to yours tightly, tears streaming down your face.

The sensation of finally being able to kiss you, her wife. HER wife, has her trembling against you, her stomach twisting and curling as you hold her tight against you, your own hands shaking as they rest on her back.

It had been the longest stint you'd gone without seeing each other, having been on a cramped ship for the majority of that time.

Even having been used to long times apart, the immense relief of being able to hold your person, your love, YOUR wife, after so long. was like nothing else you'd ever experienced.

And you were glad you had all the time in the world to experience it now.

When Steph's finally able to pull back and look you in the eye, hands holding your face, eyes scanning your features, noting a small scar under your right brow, and then returning to make eye contact again with you, albeit very tearily, much like yourself.

Lifting your own hands, your thumbs swipe away the tears on her cheeks, leaning down once more to kiss her, forehead leaning against hers.

You take in the immensity of the screams of the crowd all of a sudden, especially the crowd around the players' tunnel.

With that, she buries herself back into your hold, her nose buried into the crook of your neck.

Your eyes scan the pitch, watching the applauding or shocked expressions of the players.

You'd already known her teammates didn't know she was married, however their shocked expressions still have you chuckling.

All except Kyra's wide smile as she watches the two of you and you give the girl a wink.

"I can't believe it. You're here."

It's half whimpered into your shoulder, and you just barely hear it over the crowd.

"I'm here. I'm home."

"They finally let you on leave?"

She's using a half joking tone beneath the watery chokes and sobs.

"Better than that, Love."

She pulls away shocked.

"You mean.."

You smile down at her teary eyed.

"I'm home for good, not retired but they're giving me an office in London. Full time hours still but I won't be needed for duty anymore."

She frowns softly after a second.

She knew you'd always hated the idea of an office job.

Catching the look on her face, you knew what she'd be thinking about.

"I don't care where it is, or what I'm doing. I'm just glad I'm home, with you. I've had my fill of travelling and front line work for a lifetime."

Leaning your forehead back against hers, you let the moment sink in.

You'd known it was coming for months now, haven spoken to your superiors, and them letting you know there was a position available remotely, you'd taken it in a heartbeat.

If it meant coming home to your girl, you'd have done anything.

A small throat clearing a couple feet from you, the team had moved to stand around the pair of you, eager to ask questions of the brunette in your arms.

You nudge her softly with a small giggle in her ear.

"Babe, I think they have questions."

"They can wait a little longer."

You don't fight her on it just letting her settle into you again, holding you tightly.

The moment she does let go, she's grabbed by the shoulders and interrogated by the team rather swiftly.

Leah stands arms crossed.

"Now Stephy, when did this occur?"

Steph sheepishly smiles around her at her.

"Alright alright, Gunners, meet my beautiful wife, Y/n. She's been in the navy since she turned eighteen, we met five years ago when she was on leave in Australia. We started dating less than a month later and she left on duty about four months later. We got married after three years, bought a house right before she left a year and a bit ago. We haven't seen each other in person since then. Until now, that is."

And just like that, you're immediately dragged into the group rather swiftly, squished into several hugs.

A firm handshake and then a tight hug from their captain, especially. The Scot making firm well you know how quickly she'd bury you should you hurt their defender, despite the fact you'd known Steph longer and you chuckle, nodding in agreement at the stern look turned cracked smile she lets go.

When you're finally free, Steph takes no time tucking herself under your arm and wrapping hers around you, looking up at you slightly with a proud, elated smile, eyes still slightly teary.

Returning the expression, you press a small kiss to her nose.

"Welcome home, Baby."

You shake your head.

"Congrats on the win, Baby, this is your moment right now. Go celebrate for a bit, we've got all the time in the world now."

She pouts but relents with a small peck and nudge.

"KYRA, YOU KNEW?!"

The shouts of the Irish captain make her jump but chuckle a little as a gloating midfielder teases the rest of the girls.

Yeah. She was in for it.

-------

[millyh23]

Rivalry To Romance

Katie McCabe x Reader

Word count: 13.4k

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Katie McCabe had always prided herself on her loyalty to her team and her country. Playing for the Republic of Ireland wasn’t just a position—it was an identity. That’s why, when Arsenal announced their newest signing, Katie’s stomach churned with a mix of anger and disbelief.

Y/N Y/L/N from Northern Ireland. Her fiercest rival.

The rumors were true; Y/N had signed with Arsenal, her club, her territory. Katie couldn't shake the memory of their last match, where Y/N's last-minute tackle had nearly cost Ireland the game. She could still remember the cold glares they exchanged, the heated words they spat across the pitch, and the way Y/N stood unfazed by Katie’s ire.

“Hey, Katie, look who’s here!” Leah called, snapping Katie out of her thoughts as Y/N entered the locker room, glancing around the space as if she owned it.

Katie clenched her fists. Here they go.

“McCabe,” Y/N greeted, her voice cool as she acknowledged her.

“Y/L/N,” Katie replied, voice icy.

From that first meeting, it was like the air between them carried an electric charge. Training drills became intense battles; Katie would push Y/N off the ball, and Y/N would retaliate with a perfectly-timed tackle. The team was torn between amusement and exasperation, watching the two rivals go head-to-head every day.

Arsenal’s training grounds hummed with the usual energy, players jogging onto the pitch and taking their positions. The team was warming up, but Katie could feel the static tension creeping up her spine. It wasn’t just the usual excitement of a new training session. It was the unmistakable edge she felt every time Y/N was nearby.

Katie glanced to her right, where Y/N was adjusting her shin guards. She caught Y/N’s eye and rolled her shoulders back, flashing a smirk she knew would rile her up.

“Ready for a proper session, Y/L/N?” Katie said with a challenging grin. “Or are you only fierce when it’s Northern Ireland on your shirt?”

Y/N scoffed, crossing her arms. “Trust me, McCabe. I don’t need a green shirt to beat you.”

Their teammates watched as the two squared up, a mix of amusement and anticipation rippling through the group. This rivalry had become daily entertainment.

Coach Jonas clapped his hands. “Alright, let’s go—small-sided games. Five-a-side!” He started dividing players, and by some stroke of either luck or irony, Katie and Y/N ended up on opposing teams.

It was a fierce game from the start. Katie and Y/N seemed to gravitate toward each other, each of them upping the intensity with every pass, every tackle. Katie saw an opening, her teammate Leah ready to receive the ball, but the second she passed, Y/N was there, intercepting the play and charging up the field.

Katie chased her down, getting close enough to snap, “Keep dreaming if you think you’re gonna get past me.”

Y/N didn’t break stride. “Watch me.”

Katie lunged in, aiming to win back possession, but Y/N anticipated it and deftly sidestepped, sending Katie stumbling as Y/N dribbled past. Laughter broke out from the sidelines, and Katie’s face flushed as Y/N shot her a triumphant smirk.

Katie felt a flash of anger surge through her veins. She caught up to Y/N, deliberately closing in too fast, and clipped her ankle just as she went to take a shot. Y/N stumbled, barely staying on her feet, and whipped around to glare at Katie.

“Seriously?” Y/N snapped, her voice sharp. “What’s your problem, McCabe?”

Katie put her hands on her hips, unbothered by the accusation. “My problem? Maybe it’s that you can’t keep up, but you’re always running your mouth.”

Y/N stepped closer, her eyes narrowing. “Keep up? I’m leaving you in the dust every time, and you can’t handle it.”

Katie rolled her eyes, putting her face inches from Y/N’s. “Please, you only look good out there because I’m going easy on you.”

“Oh, that’s hilarious,” Y/N shot back, sarcasm dripping from every word. “Keep telling yourself that, Katie.”

The tension had hit a breaking point. They were nose-to-nose, both breathing heavily, eyes locked in a fierce standoff.

Before either could say anything more, Leah stepped between them, her tone somewhere between amused and exasperated. “Alright, alright, break it up, you two. You’re both as stubborn as bricks.” She looked between them, raising an eyebrow. “If you spent half this energy playing together instead of against each other, we’d be unstoppable.”

Katie huffed, but took a step back, her eyes never leaving Y/N’s.

Y/N finally let out a slow breath, her gaze just as intense. “Fine,” she muttered, brushing past Katie as she moved back into position. “Just try to keep up.”

But as they returned to the game, something had shifted. Every pass, every movement, had an extra layer of intensity, neither willing to back down. For better or worse, training with Y/N had become Katie’s new battle, and she was all in.

Training was in full swing under a blazing sun. The team had split into small groups for a scrimmage, and as usual, Katie and Y/N had found themselves on opposing sides. It was a familiar, tense setup, but today felt different. The energy between them was sharper, like a wire pulled taut, ready to snap.

The game had barely begun when Y/N received the ball in the midfield. She pivoted, sidestepping an opponent, her eyes scanning the field for an opening. Katie saw her chance and surged forward, narrowing in on Y/N like a missile.

Y/N barely had time to react before Katie came in, sliding in with a tackle that was nowhere near clean. Her cleats clipped Y/N’s knee, sending her sprawling to the ground. The sound of the impact echoed, and a few teammates gasped as Y/N hit the turf, hard.

Katie pushed herself to her feet, but before she could turn away, Y/N was already up, her face twisted in fury.

“Are you kidding me, McCabe?” Y/N barked, shoving her back.

Katie staggered a step but quickly steadied herself, her jaw clenched. “What? Can’t handle a little tackle?” she shot back, voice dripping with mock innocence. “Maybe you’re not cut out for the game.”

Y/N’s fists clenched at her sides. “A little tackle? You practically tried to break my leg!”

Katie stepped closer, her voice low and menacing. “Maybe if you were quicker, I wouldn’t have to.”

That was it. Y/N’s hand flew out, giving Katie another hard shove, this time with more force. Katie’s expression shifted, anger flashing in her eyes as she recovered and shoved her right back. It was harder, enough to make Y/N take a few steps back, but she recovered just as fast.

Without thinking, Y/N surged forward, and suddenly, they were chest-to-chest, faces inches apart, breathing heavily as anger radiated between them.

“Say that again,” Y/N hissed, her eyes blazing. “I dare you.”

Katie leaned in, her eyes flashing with a dangerous glint. “You heard me. Maybe it’s time someone knocked you down a peg, Y/L/N.”

Y/N let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “You’re so full of yourself, McCabe. Just because you’re Ireland’s pride doesn’t mean everyone else is beneath you.”

Katie’s jaw tightened, her expression turning icy. “And just because you wear a badge doesn’t mean you belong here. You’re not Arsenal material.”

That hit a nerve, and Y/N’s patience finally snapped. She grabbed the front of Katie’s training shirt, pulling her closer, but Katie was just as quick, gripping Y/N’s wrist and holding it in a tight lock. The tension between them was palpable, both locked in a furious standoff.

Their teammates were watching in shocked silence, unsure of whether to intervene or let them sort it out.

“Katie, Y/N, that’s enough!” Leah shouted, stepping forward, but neither moved.

Katie’s grip tightened on Y/N’s wrist, her voice barely above a whisper but laced with fury. “You think you can come in here, walk all over everyone, and just fit right in? I’ve been here for years. I’ve bled for this team. You haven’t earned it.”

Y/N yanked her hand free and shoved Katie again, harder this time, and Katie stumbled backward, but she quickly regained her footing, fists clenched. Before she could respond, Beth and Leah stepped in, each grabbing one of the girls to separate them.

“Alright, that’s enough!” Leah said, her voice firm. “You two are acting like children.”

Katie glared over Leah’s shoulder, still breathing heavily. “Tell that to her.”

“Oh, please, Katie!” Y/N spat back, struggling against Beth’s hold. “At least I don’t go around acting like I own the place.”

Beth rolled her eyes, trying to keep Y/N steady. “Look, if you two want to kill each other, do it off the pitch. Right now, we’re a team.”

Katie huffed, finally breaking her gaze from Y/N, though her face was still flushed with anger. “Fine,” she muttered, wrenching herself free from Leah’s grip. She stormed off a few paces, but couldn’t resist one last glare back in Y/N’s direction.

Y/N shook her head, shrugging off Beth’s hold. “Whatever. Just keep her out of my way,” she muttered before turning to walk back to her spot on the pitch.

As the two resumed their positions, their teammates exchanged uneasy glances, but one thing was clear: this wasn’t over. The fire between them had only been stoked, and it was only a matter of time before it flared up again.

Preseason camp had only just begun, and the Arsenal players were still settling into their assigned rooms. Spirits were high as teammates unpacked, talking excitedly about the upcoming season and all the memories they’d make on this trip.

But down the hall, the atmosphere was anything but cheerful.

Katie McCabe stood frozen outside her assigned room, staring at the name on the door next to hers in disbelief. She rubbed her eyes, double-checking. There was no mistaking it.

“Room 14A: Katie McCabe and Y/N Y/L/N”

A frustrated groan escaped her lips. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

At that very moment, Y/N rounded the corner, stopping in her tracks as soon as she saw Katie standing there. Her eyes fell on the door, and she blanched, reading her worst nightmare confirmed in bold letters.

“No way. This has to be a mistake,” Y/N muttered, her voice dripping with irritation.

“Believe me, I couldn’t agree more,” Katie snapped. “Who thought it was a good idea to put us in the same room?”

Y/N clenched her jaw. “Just great. The one person on this team I can’t stand, and I’m supposed to live with her for the next two weeks?”

Katie crossed her arms, shooting Y/N an icy glare. “Don’t worry; I won’t be throwing you any welcome parties either.”

The two stood in tense silence until Leah walked by, catching their expressions.

“What’s up with you two?” she asked, looking between them with an amused smile.

“What’s up? What’s up?” Katie fumed, hands gesturing wildly. “I’m roomed with her, that’s what’s up!”

Y/N threw her hands up in exasperation. “Oh, don’t act like this is a dream come true for me either, Katie.”

Leah stifled a laugh. “I don’t know; maybe you two will actually learn to get along if you’re forced to spend some time together.”

Katie scoffed, but Leah was already walking away, ignoring her protests.

“Learn to get along?” Katie muttered, turning to Y/N. “She’s delusional.”

Y/N didn’t waste a second to turn away, muttering as she marched toward her teammates who were gathered down the hall. As soon as she reached them, she put on her most pleading expression. “Please, someone switch with me,” she begged. “I’ll take anyone—even Beth, and she snores like a lawnmower.”

Beth raised her eyebrows in mock offense. “Hey, don’t drag me into this! Besides, I think it’s poetic justice.” She exchanged a glance with Leah, both grinning as they enjoyed the unfolding drama.

“You all think this is hilarious, don’t you?” Y/N groaned.

“Absolutely,” Leah replied, not even trying to hide her laughter.

Meanwhile, Katie was ranting to her own little group on the other end of the hall.

“It’s like the universe is punishing me. I finally make it through all the preseason drills, and now this?” She threw her hands up in exasperation. “All she does is talk back, glare, and then act like I’m the problem!”

Jen leaned against the wall, clearly amused. “You’re the one talking about her nonstop, Katie. Sounds like you’ve got it bad.”

Katie shot her a glare. “I do not ‘have it bad.’ I have it terribly.”

Down the hall, Y/N continued her complaints to Beth and Caitlin, who were listening with barely hidden amusement. “I’m telling you, I’ll be lucky if we don’t end up killing each other by the end of the week,” Y/N said, crossing her arms. “She’s got this whole ‘I’m too good for everyone’ thing going on, like she’s the queen of Arsenal.”

Beth shrugged, clearly unfazed by Y/N’s complaints. “She’s been here a long time. She probably thinks you’re here to take her spot.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “As if I care about taking her spot.”

“Maybe,” Caitlin interjected, smirking. “But she thinks you do.”

Just as Y/N was about to retort, Coach Jonas walked by and caught a few words of their conversation. He paused, taking in the glares Katie and Y/N were shooting each other across the hallway.

“Alright, alright,” Jonas said, clapping his hands. “If I’m hearing complaints from both sides, then maybe this arrangement is exactly what you two need. Who knows? You might actually learn something from each other.”

Katie opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off with a knowing look. “No room swaps. Consider it a preseason exercise in…team bonding.”

He walked away, leaving Katie and Y/N fuming in the middle of the hall.

Once he was out of sight, Katie threw her hands up, clearly frustrated. “Fine. But stay out of my way, Y/L/N. We’re on opposite schedules. I’ll shower at night; you take the morning.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Great. Fine by me. I’d rather not have to look at you first thing in the morning.”

Katie shot her one last glare before grabbing her bags and shoving her way into the room. Y/N followed suit, dragging her things in and slamming the door behind her.

And so, the rivals were roomed together, forced to share a space and to tolerate each other’s presence. But if one thing was clear, it was that neither would make this easy on the other.

Preseason training was already intense enough, but it quickly became clear that the real entertainment of the camp was Katie and Y/N’s constant bickering. It didn’t matter if they were running drills, passing the ball, or even just grabbing lunch—Katie and Y/N managed to turn every moment into an opportunity to one-up each other.

And their teammates were absolutely here for it.

The day started with a light warm-up, but the tension between Katie and Y/N was thick as ever. They were supposed to be practicing passing drills together, but within minutes, the shouting began.

“You call that a pass?” Katie sneered, catching the ball and immediately firing it back with unnecessary force. “I’ve seen toddlers with better control!”

Y/N scoffed as she trapped the ball. “If you’d stop kicking it like it’s a cannonball, maybe I wouldn’t have to adjust every time.”

Caitlin and Beth watched from the sidelines, exchanging amused glances.

“Oh, this is going to be good,” Caitlin whispered, nudging Beth. “Ten quid says Y/N snaps first.”

Beth grinned. “I don’t know. Katie’s got that fiery look in her eyes today. I’d bet on her.”

Meanwhile, across the field, the argument had only escalated. Y/N rolled her eyes at Katie. “Maybe try aiming, McCabe. I’m not out here trying to dodge bullets.”

Katie shrugged with a smirk. “Then maybe you shouldn’t have signed up to play with the big leagues, princess.”

That was all Y/N needed. She fired the ball back at Katie’s feet with a little too much force, and it nearly tripped Katie, who barely managed to regain her footing. A few of the other players tried (and failed) to stifle their laughter.

Alessia, standing nearby with her hands on her knees, was practically in tears. “How long do you think they’re going to keep this up?”

Leah, leaning against the goalpost, chuckled. “With those two? At least another hour. Maybe all season.”

By lunchtime, Katie and Y/N had managed to argue about nearly every topic imaginable. As they filed into the dining hall, Y/N immediately rolled her eyes when she saw Katie heading for the same table.

“Oh, fantastic,” Y/N muttered. “There are about ten other tables here, but sure, sit right here.”

Katie plopped down across from her, eyes glinting mischievously. “What’s wrong, Y/N? Can’t handle sharing a table either?”

Y/N shot her a glare, stabbing her salad with extra vigor. “It’s just bad for digestion, you know? All this hostility.”

Katie laughed. “Maybe that’s your excuse for that horrible passing earlier.”

Caitlin nudged Leah as they sat nearby, enjoying their front-row seat to the show. “I swear, they’re like an old married couple,” she whispered, trying not to laugh too loudly.

Leah smirked. “Right? Just imagine if they actually liked each other. They’d be unstoppable.”

Across the table, the two rivals continued their snarky back-and-forth.

“You’ve got dressing all over your face,” Katie said, smirking as she pointed to Y/N’s cheek. “Or is that just part of the look?”

Y/N wiped her cheek with a napkin, scowling. “At least I don’t inhale my food like a barbarian.”

Katie rolled her eyes. “Barbarian? Just because I don’t nibble on my food like a rabbit doesn’t mean I’m a barbarian.”

Beth let out a loud snort, drawing both Katie’s and Y/N’s glares.

“Sorry,” she said, holding up her hands in surrender. “It’s just…this is the best free entertainment I’ve had in ages.”

The others at the table nodded in agreement, smirking as Katie and Y/N exchanged another round of withering looks.

As they all finished lunch and moved on to free time, the team decided to cool off by the pool. But even there, Katie and Y/N couldn’t seem to stay out of each other’s way.

As Y/N was leaning down to grab her water bottle by the poolside, Katie “accidentally” bumped into her, causing Y/N to stumble forward, nearly losing her balance.

Y/N whipped around, eyes narrowed. “Oh, that was subtle. Are you five?”

Katie shrugged, feigning innocence. “Sorry, didn’t see you there. You’re just kind of…in the way.”

Leah, lounging on a sunbed nearby, turned to Alessia with a grin. “You think if we lock them in a room, they’ll either end up being best friends or kill each other?”

Alessia laughed. “I’d bet on the killing.”

That night, back in their shared room, Katie and Y/N’s bickering reached new heights.

“I can’t believe I have to share a bathroom with you,” Y/N complained, huffing as she watched Katie brush her teeth.

Katie raised an eyebrow, not bothering to pause her brushing. “Believe me, I’m not thrilled either. You leave your stuff everywhere!”

“Oh, please,” Y/N shot back. “The only thing I’ve left out is a toothbrush, while you’ve somehow managed to scatter your entire life all over the place.”

Katie spit into the sink, wiping her mouth with a towel. “You’re dramatic, Y/L/N. Maybe if you could manage a little…organization?”

“Oh, now you’re giving me life advice?” Y/N scoffed, rolling her eyes. “The last thing I need is tips from you.”

Beth, eavesdropping through the thin walls, laughed softly, turning to Leah in the room next door. “They’re still going at it.”

Leah shook her head, chuckling. “At this point, maybe we should let them keep fighting. I think it’s the most energy they’ve had all camp.”

Katie trudged back to her shared room with Y/N after an exhausting day of training. All she wanted was a hot shower and the blissful silence of some music in her headphones. But as she reached the door, Katie slowed down, hearing Y/N’s voice muffled through the wood.

It wasn’t unusual for Y/N to take phone calls; most of them seemed heated, muttered complaints or irritated sighs that Katie had learned to tune out. But this time, something was different. Y/N’s voice was low and…trembling?

Katie hesitated, hand on the doorknob. She could have walked away or given her roommate some space, but curiosity got the better of her.

“Look, I get it, okay?” Y/N’s voice cracked slightly, and Katie leaned closer, her heart suddenly pounding in her chest. “You… you don’t have to make excuses. If you’re done, just say it.”

A thick silence hung in the air as Y/N listened to the voice on the other end, her breathing shaky.

“Right. Yeah, it’s probably for the best.” A forced laugh. “I mean, I’ll still see you around, yeah? At least we don’t have to make a scene about it.”

Katie felt a pang of guilt for listening in, but she couldn’t seem to tear herself away from the door. She heard the faint sound of a sigh, one that held both resignation and defeat.

“I just… I thought maybe this time it would work,” Y/N continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I guess I was wrong. Again.”

Another silence.

“No, don’t worry. I’ll be fine,” she said quickly, though her voice wavered. “It’s just… I mean, you could’ve told me sooner, you know? Instead of letting me hold on thinking…”

Katie’s brow furrowed, a strange ache forming in her chest as she listened to Y/N’s words. Y/N, the stubborn and fierce player she clashed with daily, sounded so small, so fragile.

“Right. Well… good luck with everything,” Y/N said, her tone hardening. “Goodbye, then.”

There was a soft click, and Katie heard Y/N let out a shaky breath, followed by the muffled sound of her trying to hold back tears. Katie swallowed, suddenly feeling like an intruder in her own room. But before she could figure out what to do, the door swung open, and there stood Y/N, her eyes red and rimmed with tears.

Katie froze, her usual witty remark caught in her throat as she registered the devastated look on Y/N’s face.

Y/N’s expression turned to one of horror and anger in equal measure. “Were you… listening?”

Katie opened her mouth to deny it, but no excuse came to mind. “I… I didn’t mean to, I just…” She stopped, realizing that anything she said would sound weak.

“Just what, Katie?” Y/N’s voice was tight with anger, but her red-rimmed eyes betrayed the vulnerability behind her words. “Eavesdropping for fun now?”

Katie’s defenses kicked in, feeling suddenly cornered by Y/N’s hurt. “Look, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, okay? I came back to the room and… I just heard you talking. I’m not some heartless creep.”

Y/N laughed bitterly, brushing past her and tossing her phone onto her bed. “Well, if you’re done with the free show, you can leave now.”

Katie hesitated, watching as Y/N crossed her arms and looked away, trying to hide the way her lip trembled.

“Y/N…” Katie said softly, but Y/N cut her off.

“Don’t,” Y/N snapped. “I don’t need your pity. I don’t need anything from you.”

Katie took a breath, swallowing the instinct to fight back. She remembered the conversation she’d overheard—the pain in Y/N’s voice, the vulnerable words that had cracked her usually unbreakable armor.

“Look,” Katie said, softening her tone. “I didn’t mean to intrude. And I’m… I’m sorry. I know what it’s like to have someone walk out on you.”

Y/N scoffed, clearly unimpressed, though the hurt was still evident on her face. “Oh, great, Katie McCabe is getting all sentimental now. Just what I needed.”

Katie clenched her jaw, resisting the urge to snap back. “You think I wanted to see this? That I wanted to hear it?”

Y/N glared, but her expression softened just a fraction, enough that Katie noticed. She took a hesitant step forward, her voice gentle.

“For what it’s worth, it sounds like you deserved a lot better than whoever that was,” Katie said.

Y/N’s shoulders dropped slightly, her eyes darting away. “It doesn’t matter now,” she murmured, her voice barely audible. “She… she didn’t want this.”

Katie studied her for a moment, feeling a strange pull to offer something—anything—to take away the hurt in Y/N’s eyes.

“You know…” Katie began, shoving her hands in her pockets, “you don’t have to pretend you’re fine. Not with me.”

Y/N let out a humorless laugh, blinking quickly. “Right. Because we’re best friends now, is that it?”

Katie shrugged, feeling a tinge of awkwardness but pushing past it. “Maybe not best friends. But we’re teammates. And even if we don’t always see eye to eye… I wouldn’t want you to go through this alone.”

Y/N didn’t respond immediately, just stared at her with an unreadable expression. After a long pause, she finally spoke, her voice softer than before.

“Well… thanks, I guess,” Y/N mumbled, still avoiding Katie’s gaze. “But I’m fine. Really.”

Katie bit back a sigh, nodding as she made her way to her side of the room. She didn’t say anything else, sensing that Y/N wasn’t ready for any more sympathy. But as she lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling, Katie couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d just seen a side of Y/N that no one else had.

And as much as she tried to ignore it, she couldn’t stop herself from feeling just a little bit protective.

It started with the water bottle.

Katie noticed it one morning at training. Y/N had been running late, clearly flustered and fumbling through her bag for her water bottle, only to come up empty-handed.

Katie had shrugged, grabbing her spare bottle and sliding it onto the bench beside Y/N’s stuff, just within reach. Y/N, too busy running drills, hadn’t even noticed when she came back for a quick drink, grabbing the bottle and taking a long gulp before heading back onto the field.

Katie rolled her eyes, a slight smirk tugging at her lips. Some gratitude.

But she couldn’t help herself. Over the next few days, Katie found herself picking up little habits to look out for Y/N, in ways so subtle even she didn’t notice at first.

It was as simple as setting a towel aside when Y/N forgot to bring one for cooldown. Or holding the door an extra second when she saw Y/N coming down the hall, still pulling her hair into a bun. Or making sure to hang back at dinner, subtly positioning herself between Y/N and some of the louder teammates whenever Y/N looked especially worn out.

The more Katie did it, the more she expected Y/N to notice. And each time Y/N passed her without so much as a glance, Katie felt a small sting of frustration.

One afternoon after practice, Y/N was struggling with the zipper on her duffel bag. It had been giving her trouble for days, and she kept muttering about needing to get it fixed.

Katie watched, casually leaning against the wall, as Y/N huffed and tried to yank the zipper free. It gave a metallic whine, refusing to budge.

Katie sighed, strolling over without a word. She knelt down and fiddled with the zipper for a moment, pressing her thumb just right to ease the snag. With a tug, it slid smoothly back into place.

“Oh,” Y/N said, glancing down at her now-functional zipper, then back up at Katie. “Thanks, I—” But she cut herself off, barely waiting for a nod from Katie before scooping up her bag and heading for the showers.

Katie watched her go, feeling a mix of annoyance and something strangely warmer, despite herself. Typical.

The next day, during scrimmage, Katie spotted Y/N wincing after a hard tackle. She wasn’t limping enough to stop, but Katie could tell her ankle was bothering her. Katie bit her lip, feeling her usual urge to call Y/N out on pushing through pain. Instead, she jogged over, staying close enough to offer support without being too obvious.

When they got a break, she made a detour to the medical kit, grabbing some extra ice packs and placing them discreetly on Y/N’s spot on the bench.

When Y/N finished her reps and slumped onto the bench, she picked up the ice packs and simply placed them over her ankle, not once questioning where they’d come from.

Katie shook her head with a chuckle. “Anytime,” she muttered to herself.

Later that week, during a team meeting, Katie noticed Y/N stifling a yawn and blinking rapidly, clearly struggling to keep her focus. She could tell Y/N had been staying up later than usual, maybe trying to brush off whatever was bothering her from the breakup.

The trainer’s voice droned on, and Katie waited until Y/N was busy with her notepad before she nudged her coffee closer to Y/N’s side of the table. Y/N glanced down, grabbed the mug absentmindedly, and took a long sip.

Katie waited for a glimmer of acknowledgment—a nod, maybe even a “thanks.” But Y/N just sipped the coffee and jotted down notes, her eyes still fixed on the front of the room.

Katie felt a small surge of irritation but forced herself to push it aside. Why am I even bothering?

Yet, despite her frustration, she found herself continuing with these tiny gestures. An extra granola bar left on Y/N’s seat before team meetings, an occasional shoulder check to steady her if she stumbled during drills, even switching spots with her in line to help her avoid the players she didn’t mesh well with.

Finally, after nearly two weeks of subtle attempts, Katie had reached her breaking point.

During one particularly long cooldown session, Katie found herself stretching next to Y/N. Y/N didn’t seem to notice her there, too focused on a knot in her calf muscle. Katie watched as she grimaced, clearly not getting anywhere with it.

Without thinking, Katie moved closer, reaching out to massage the muscle. “You know,” she said, her voice holding an edge of exasperation, “you could at least say ‘thank you’ once in a while.”

Y/N looked up, her brow furrowing. “What?”

Katie huffed. “You seriously haven’t noticed, have you?”

“Noticed what?” Y/N said, genuinely perplexed.

Katie shook her head, half-amused, half-irritated. “The water bottle? The extra ice packs? The coffee that you practically inhaled every team meeting?”

Y/N blinked, realization dawning slowly. Her mouth opened slightly, like she was about to say something, but then closed again. Her gaze dropped, and for the first time, she looked… apologetic.

“Oh,” she finally muttered, scratching the back of her head awkwardly. “I… didn’t know.”

Katie rolled her eyes, exasperated. “Of course you didn’t.”

Y/N laughed, a small, awkward sound. “Well… thanks. I mean, you didn’t have to do any of that.”

Katie shrugged, masking the warmth that flickered in her chest. “Yeah, well, someone’s gotta keep you in line.”

Y/N smirked, her usual attitude returning. “Oh, is that what you’re doing? Babysitting me?”

“Just think of it as… charity work,” Katie shot back with a grin.

They both laughed, the tension between them dissipating, at least for the moment. And though Katie tried to play it cool, she couldn’t help feeling that maybe—just maybe—Y/N was starting to see her in a new light.

Katie hadn’t planned to tell anyone. But that afternoon, as she sat in the lounge with Beth, she couldn’t keep it in any longer. The Arsenal squad was in rare form, laughter echoing around the room as they wound down after another tough practice, and Y/N, as always, had been at the center of Katie’s attention.

Beth nudged her, eyes gleaming mischievously. “You’ve been staring at her all week, Katie. What’s going on?”

Katie hesitated, glancing around the room. Most of the team was busy in their own conversations, so she leaned in closer to Beth, muttering, “Okay, fine. But you cannot tell anyone. I… might like her.”

Beth’s eyes widened, a huge grin spreading across her face. “Oh. My. God.”

Katie shushed her quickly, cheeks blazing. “Quiet! I mean it, Beth. I didn’t even want to tell you, but… it’s just been eating me up. She doesn’t even notice half the things I do for her, and I can’t figure out if she hates me or if she’s just clueless.”

Beth stifled a laugh, bouncing on her toes with excitement. “Katie, that’s huge! Why haven’t you told her?”

Katie sighed, shrugging. “I don’t even know if she likes me back. I mean, she barely notices anything I do—she probably thinks I’m just being a decent teammate.”

Beth shook her head. “Katie, you’re doing all these things for her! Trust me, she has to have noticed something by now.”

Katie smiled, shaking her head. “Yeah, well, don’t get your hopes up. This is between you and me, got it?”

Beth nodded, miming zipping her lips. “My lips are sealed.”

But Beth’s “sealed lips” didn’t last very long.

Only a few minutes later, Beth noticed Leah, Viv, and several other teammates standing around the table. The temptation was too much for her, and before she could stop herself, she burst out, “Katie just told me she likes Y/N!”

The room fell into a stunned silence.

Katie’s eyes went wide, her face flushing a bright red. “Beth! Are you serious?” she practically hissed, mortified.

But it was too late. Leah’s face lit up with a teasing grin, Viv stifled a laugh, and soon enough, the entire room erupted with whispers and giggles.

Katie felt her heart pounding. She couldn’t bear to stay there a second longer. Without a word, she stood up, gave Beth an incredulous glare, and marched out of the room, ignoring the amused looks from her teammates.

Katie headed outside, needing air. She leaned against the wall, letting the cool breeze calm her as she took deep breaths, trying to settle her nerves. How could Beth just blurt it out like that? she fumed internally, running a hand over her face.

She didn’t expect anyone to follow her, let alone Y/N.

“Katie?”

Katie froze, her heart skipping a beat as she turned to see Y/N standing a few steps away, her expression a mix of confusion and… something else Katie couldn’t quite read.

Y/N stepped closer, her voice soft. “Did… did Beth mean what she said in there?”

Katie took a breath, her heart racing as she nodded. “Yeah. She wasn’t supposed to say anything, though. I didn’t even know if you’d feel the same way, and now the entire team knows, so if this is weird for you—”

Y/N cut her off with a quiet laugh. “Katie, it’s not weird. Actually… I’ve been wanting to tell you something too.”

Katie’s eyes widened, her heart pounding as Y/N closed the gap between them.

“I didn’t realize it at first,” Y/N began, looking down, cheeks tinged with a soft blush. “But over these past few weeks… you’ve been doing all these little things. Looking out for me in ways no one else does, even when I’m too dense to see it. And I guess… I’ve kind of been waiting for you to say something.” She paused, biting her lip nervously. “I like you too, Katie.”

Katie blinked, almost unable to believe her ears. “You… you do?”

Y/N nodded, smiling a little. “Yeah, I do. Even though we were at each other’s throats when I first joined, I think I just tried to deny what I was feeling. But… the way you’ve looked out for me, Katie, it’s hard not to feel something.”

They stood there in silence for a moment, the weight of their confessions hanging in the air between them. Then, Katie finally let out a small, relieved laugh. “I was terrified you’d laugh in my face.”

Y/N grinned, taking a small step closer until they were just inches apart. “Oh, I’m laughing, just not in the way you thought.”

With that, Y/N reached for Katie’s hand, intertwining their fingers. Katie felt her heart leap, the warmth of Y/N’s hand grounding her, making all the embarrassment from earlier disappear.

Inside, the team was still chattering excitedly, clearly wondering what was going on. But as Katie looked into Y/N’s eyes, she found she didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was right here in front of her.

Y/N squeezed her hand, giving her a playful smirk. “Now, what do you say we head back in there and let them have their fun?”

Katie laughed, shaking her head. “Fine, but if they start planning our wedding, I’m holding you accountable.”

Y/N grinned, tugging her hand gently as they turned to head back inside, this time together, ready to face the team—and whatever teasing awaited them—with their newfound feelings finally out in the open.

Katie and Y/N paused just outside the team lounge, exchanging sly looks. The buzz of conversation inside was unmistakable; their teammates were clearly still talking about Beth’s big reveal.

Katie raised an eyebrow. “So, what do you say we make them sweat a bit?”

Y/N smirked. “I’m in. Let’s give them a little show.”

With that, the two of them arranged their faces into tense expressions, putting on their best fake scowls before stepping back into the room.

As soon as they entered, the chatter quieted, and all eyes turned to them. Katie glanced at Y/N with an exaggerated look of disdain.

“You know what, Y/N? I don’t know why I even bothered!” Katie said loudly, throwing her hands up. “Trying to be nice, trying to get along… I’m done with it.”

Y/N crossed her arms, glaring right back. “Oh, you’re done? Trust me, Katie, I’m the one who’s done. You don’t make anything easy, do you?”

Their teammates exchanged wide-eyed looks, glancing at each other nervously. Leah, who had been watching with an expectant grin just moments before, now looked on in alarm.

“Uh… guys?” Beth said hesitantly, guilt creeping into her voice. “This wasn’t… I didn’t mean for you two to—”

Katie cut her off, waving a hand. “You know what, Beth? Maybe next time, don’t go blabbing about things that aren’t your business.”

Beth’s mouth dropped open, her face a mix of shock and regret. Leah stepped forward, trying to smooth things over. “Hey, maybe we can all just, uh, talk this out?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, letting out a dramatic sigh. “Katie and I don’t need to talk it out, Leah. Maybe everyone just needs to mind their own business.”

Viv and Alessia looked around nervously, while Beth buried her face in her hands, clearly mortified.

Katie shot Y/N a quick, barely perceptible wink. “You know what, Y/N? I’d say you’re insufferable, but I think that’s what I’m starting to—”

“Love about you,” Y/N finished, barely able to keep a straight face as she leaned toward Katie with a smirk.

The whole team froze, blinking in confusion as they processed what they’d just heard. It took only a beat before Y/N and Katie broke into laughter, dropping their ‘argument’ and looking around at their stunned teammates.

Katie grinned, finally breaking character. “Honestly, the lot of you are terrible at keeping secrets. Who does Beth blurt my business to the second she hears it?”

Beth’s face went from horror to relief as she realized they’d been messing with her. “Oh, come on! I just—well, it’s your fault, Katie! You’re the one who’s been acting all lovesick and obvious.”

Leah crossed her arms, trying to look stern but failing to hide her grin. “So, all this fighting was just to get back at us for meddling?”

Y/N shrugged, trying to keep a straight face as she raised an eyebrow. “What can we say? This is what happens when people get nosy.”

Alessia let out a dramatic sigh of relief, clutching her chest. “Honestly, I thought you were about to rip each other’s heads off. That was terrifying!”

Viv laughed, shaking her head. “Katie, you and Y/N put on quite the performance.”

Katie chuckled, leaning back against the wall. “Glad you all enjoyed the show. But seriously, maybe next time let me handle my own feelings, yeah?”

Y/N joined her, their hands brushing together subtly as she added, “Yeah. We don’t need the whole squad poking around in our business.”

Beth raised her hands in surrender, laughing. “Alright, fine, we’ll leave you two alone… for now. But I make no promises if you keep acting so obvious!”

Katie smirked, glancing sideways at Y/N. “Well, then, it looks like we’ll have to give you even more to talk about, won’t we?”

The team groaned, but the laughter filled the room once more, and Katie and Y/N couldn’t help but share a quiet smile. Their secret was out, but they couldn’t have cared less. They had each other’s backs—and they’d gotten a good laugh at everyone’s expense in the process.

It had only been a few months since Katie and Y/N had made things official, but to the rest of the Arsenal squad, it felt like they'd been together forever. The two of them were always bickering over the most trivial things, and yet, anyone could see they were absolutely smitten.

This morning, their “married couple” energy was on full display.

As the team gathered for breakfast at the training camp, Katie spotted Y/N piling her plate with pancakes and shook her head in disbelief.

“Seriously, Y/N?” Katie huffed, grabbing the last banana from the fruit bowl. “Do you ever think of eating something healthy?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, sprinkling powdered sugar on her stack with a flourish. “Relax, Katie, it’s not like I’m eating this every day.” She took a big bite and chewed dramatically, as if daring Katie to say something else.

Katie squinted at her. “You say that, but I’ve seen you at every team breakfast loading up on pancakes like they’re going out of style.”

Y/N shrugged, unbothered. “I need my fuel to keep up with you, don’t I?”

Beth, sitting across from them, tried to hide a laugh behind her coffee cup. Leah, on her right, leaned over, whispering loudly enough for everyone to hear, “Are we sure they’re not already married?”

Katie shot Leah a mock glare. “Oh, don’t start, Williamson. You should be grateful I’m trying to keep her in check!”

Y/N scoffed, reaching over to grab a bit of fruit from Katie’s plate. “I think we both know you’re more high-maintenance than me, Katie.”

Katie smacked her hand away, giving her a playful glare. “Get your own fruit!”

Viv, sipping her tea nearby, raised an eyebrow. “This is seriously like watching my parents fight,” she said, shaking her head with an amused smile.

Katie and Y/N both shot her glares, in perfect sync. “Excuse me?” they said in unison, which only made the team laugh even harder.

Rolling her eyes, Katie sighed dramatically. “Alright, fine. Go ahead, eat all the pancakes. But don’t come crying to me when you’re too sluggish to keep up in training.”

Y/N put her hand over her heart, feigning offense. “I would never blame you for my poor training performance, darling.” She winked, causing Katie to flush just a little as the team watched with knowing grins.

Beth nudged Leah, barely able to contain her laughter. “This is top-tier entertainment.”

After breakfast, the team gathered for a light warm-up, and Y/N, still high on carbs and a little bit of mischief, kept tripping Katie up by tapping her ankles or nudging her playfully whenever Katie wasn’t looking.

“Will you stop it?” Katie snapped, swatting Y/N’s hand away for the third time. “You’re like a child.”

“Oh, come on, you love it.” Y/N smirked, running ahead to avoid Katie’s inevitable comeback. Katie shook her head, unable to hide the smile tugging at her lips.

Later, during a water break, Y/N handed Katie her water bottle, and Katie took it, squinting at her suspiciously. “Why are you being nice all of a sudden?”

Y/N shrugged innocently. “Can’t a girl do something nice for her girlfriend without being accused of having ulterior motives?”

Katie narrowed her eyes, then reluctantly took a sip. “Fine. Thanks, I guess.”

Just as she was about to take another drink, Y/N added, “By the way, I might have accidentally taken a sip out of that earlier.”

Katie’s eyes widened, looking at the bottle with mock horror. “Oh, you’re disgusting.”

Y/N gave her a cheeky grin. “You’re just figuring this out now?”

They continued their playful back-and-forth as the training session wound down, and their teammates could only shake their heads, thoroughly entertained. By now, it was a given: if Y/N and Katie were in the room, a bit of banter was sure to follow.

As they walked back to the locker room, Katie nudged Y/N, speaking just loud enough for only her to hear. “You’re lucky I love you, you know that?”

Y/N grinned, sliding an arm around her shoulders. “Oh, trust me, I know. And I love you too, even when you steal all the bananas.”

Katie scoffed but leaned into her, their usual bickering temporarily replaced by a comfortable silence.

From behind them, Leah whispered to Viv, “I swear, they’re like an old married couple.”

And for once, neither Y/N nor Katie could argue with that.

The Arsenal squad had been dropping hints all week, not-so-subtly trying to convince either Katie or Y/N to take their relationship to the next level. With every passing day, the nudges and winks became more obvious.

During a team meeting, Leah leaned over to Y/N and whispered, “So, when are you finally going to propose? Don’t you think it’s about time?”

Beth joined in, nudging Katie. “You’re both head over heels. One of you has to pop the question sometime.”

Katie and Y/N exchanged a quick look, and that was all it took for them to come up with the perfect plan. If their teammates wanted drama, well, they’d get some—but not in the way they expected.

That Friday, right after training, the team was lounging in the common room, chatting away. Katie and Y/N entered the room together, but the air between them felt… tense. They both wore exaggerated frowns, and the whole squad quickly sensed that something was off.

Katie sighed loudly, folding her arms as she glanced around the room. “You know what, Y/N? I think we need to talk.”

Y/N crossed her arms as well, turning to face Katie with an indignant glare. “Oh, I’m the one who’s difficult? Right, because it’s never you, Katie.”

Their teammates immediately exchanged panicked glances, sensing trouble. Viv’s mouth dropped open slightly, and Leah subtly motioned for everyone to keep quiet.

Katie sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes. “Honestly, I don’t think I can deal with this anymore.”

“Oh, I don’t think I can deal with you anymore!” Y/N shot back, her voice getting louder. She placed her hands on her hips and turned to the team. “Can you all believe this? She thinks she can just tell me what to do like I’m some rookie!”

Beth’s eyes widened in horror as she looked at the others, mouthing, “What did we do?”

Leah, clearly caught between intervening and staying out of it, held up her hands. “Hey, guys… maybe we can talk this out? I mean, no need to… break up or anything.”

Katie scoffed. “Why not, Leah? Maybe it’s exactly what we need. It’s not like she listens to me anyway!”

Y/N threw her hands in the air, her voice tinged with mock hurt. “Fine, Katie! If that’s how you feel, maybe we’re just better off apart!”

The whole room fell into a stunned silence. Alessia looked horrified, Beth looked guilty, and Viv was on the verge of intervening. Just as they were about to step in, Y/N turned her back to Katie, but not before giving her a tiny, knowing smirk.

Katie matched her smirk and kept her voice stern. “Fine. Then let’s be done with it.”

At that, the team could no longer hold back.

Beth jumped up, wide-eyed. “No, no, no, don’t do this! This is all our fault. We pushed you two too hard!”

Leah held her hands out pleadingly. “We’re sorry! You two are great together. Don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

Katie and Y/N shared a quick glance, barely containing their laughter. But they kept up the act a little longer.

Y/N shook her head, turning toward the door. “Maybe if everyone minded their own business, we wouldn’t be here.”

Alessia let out a desperate sigh, looking at them with puppy-dog eyes. “Please, just… don’t break up because of us. You two are like… Arsenal’s power couple!”

Finally, Katie and Y/N couldn’t hold it in anymore. They both burst into laughter, clutching their stomachs as they doubled over. The rest of the team looked on, baffled.

Y/N, still giggling, looked up at them and said, “Relax, we’re not actually breaking up.”

Katie wiped a fake tear from her eye. “But maybe you all should consider giving us some space before you end up with real relationship drama!”

The realization dawned on them, and the team’s horrified expressions turned to annoyed glares.

Beth threw a pillow at them. “You two are the worst! Do you know how much we panicked?”

Leah shook her head, laughing despite herself. “Honestly, I’ve never been so terrified. Thought you two were about to kill each other!”

Y/N grinned, wrapping an arm around Katie. “See, maybe this is a lesson. Next time, stay out of our business, alright?”

Katie gave Y/N a wink. “Or we might have to pull something even bigger on you lot.”

Viv crossed her arms, her lips quirked in amusement. “Duly noted. Maybe we’ll just let you propose when you’re ready.”

Katie and Y/N exchanged a secret smile, knowing that their real proposal would happen when they were ready—not a moment before. And for now, they were more than happy to keep their teammates on their toes.

It was a crisp autumn day at Arsenal's training ground, the air buzzing with anticipation. It had been exactly a year since Katie and Y/N’s infamous “breakup” prank, and Katie had been quietly planning a real surprise that would catch everyone off guard: a proposal. But, naturally, she couldn’t do it without one last prank.

The plan was simple: after a light morning training, Katie would gather everyone, fake a “heated argument” with Y/N, and then propose right when things seemed tense enough. With the ring already secured, she felt confident it would be a day no one would forget.

Training went smoothly until Katie called everyone over during the warm-down. Y/N, feigning confusion, trailed behind the team, giving Katie a questioning look as she shot her a conspiratorial wink.

“All of you, come here!” Katie called, looking as serious as possible, her tone carrying an edge that made everyone straighten up.

The team gathered around, exchanging wary glances. Leah raised an eyebrow, sensing something was off. “Katie, what’s going on?”

Katie crossed her arms, putting on her best frown. “I’ve had enough,” she said, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Y/N widened her eyes in mock alarm, playing her role perfectly. “Excuse me? You’ve had enough?”

Katie jabbed a finger in Y/N’s direction. “You never listen, Y/N! I can’t deal with this anymore.”

Beth’s eyes went wide as she exchanged a look with Viv, who mouthed, “Not again…”

Y/N crossed her arms and threw her head back. “You’re really doing this now, Katie? Here, in front of everyone?”

Katie clenched her fists, doing her best to look frustrated. “Yes, right now. Because apparently, nothing gets through to you otherwise!”

Leah stepped forward, looking horrified. “Guys… please, don’t do this again.”

Katie glared at Leah, not breaking character. “Stay out of this, Leah. This is between me and Y/N.”

Y/N scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Fine, then. Say what you have to say.”

The tension was thick, and the entire squad looked on, barely breathing. Alessia clutched Beth’s arm, her voice barely a whisper. “Are they seriously breaking up again?”

Just as the tension seemed unbearable, Katie sighed deeply and reached into her pocket. “You know what, Y/N? There’s only one thing I have left to say to you.”

Katie took a deep breath, pulled out the small black box, and dropped to one knee. The entire team gasped, jaws dropping in unison as realization hit them.

Katie looked up at Y/N, her eyes softening. “Y/N, you’re my everything. I love you more than I can even say. I’m done pretending, done pranking—well, after this one, anyway.” She chuckled softly. “Will you marry me?”

Y/N’s jaw dropped, her eyes wide as she took in the ring in Katie’s hands. Then, after a beat, she broke into a wide grin and nodded, letting a few tears fall. “Yes, Katie, of course!”

The team erupted in cheers, jumping and hugging each other in excitement and relief. Beth clapped her hands together, looking overjoyed. “Oh my god, this is amazing! Finally!”

Leah had tears in her eyes. “Katie McCabe, you scared us half to death again. But this time… I guess we can forgive you.”

Katie, still on her knee, shot them a mischievous grin as she slid the ring onto Y/N’s finger. “Didn’t think I’d let this go down without a bit of drama, did you?”

Y/N laughed, pulling her fiancée up into a tight hug. “You’re an absolute menace, you know that?”

Katie smirked, pressing a quick kiss to Y/N’s lips. “You love it.”

The team huddled around, bombarding them with hugs, questions, and a few well-deserved playful shoves. Viv crossed her arms, feigning annoyance but with a huge grin on her face. “You two need to stop toying with us!”

Beth wiped a tear away, grinning. “You’re officially banned from pranks after this. Next time, just get married in private and save us the heart attacks!”

Katie laughed, holding Y/N’s hand and looking around at her teammates—her family. “Alright, alright, no more pranks. But now you all owe us a huge celebration.”

And as the room filled with laughter, cheers, and a few well-placed jokes about “prank-ception,” Katie and Y/N shared a look, feeling incredibly lucky to be surrounded by the people who loved them, ready for this next chapter together.

It had been a few weeks since Katie’s dramatic proposal, and things had finally settled down. Y/N wore her engagement ring with pride, and Katie seemed to love showing off her fiancée at every opportunity. But Y/N couldn’t help but think that maybe Katie deserved a little payback for all the times she’d pulled off elaborate pranks over the last year. So, Y/N hatched a plan of her own.

On a sunny Thursday morning, Y/N decided to start her prank. She went about her morning as usual, chatting with Katie and joking around as they got ready for training—but she purposely left her engagement ring on the dresser. Katie didn’t seem to notice at first, so Y/N held back a smirk as she joined her fiancée in the kitchen for breakfast, acting like nothing was amiss.

Katie, completely oblivious, handed Y/N her coffee and started talking about the team’s drills for the day. Y/N kept the conversation going, waiting for Katie to catch on, but Katie remained oblivious until they arrived at training.

In the locker room, Y/N made sure to keep her hands visible as she changed, hoping one of the girls would notice first. She could see Katie a few lockers over, chatting with Beth and Leah, so she subtly flashed her left hand to Viv, who immediately noticed.

“Y/N… where’s your ring?” Viv asked with a surprised look.

Katie’s head whipped around so fast it could have caused whiplash. She immediately zeroed in on Y/N’s bare finger, her eyes narrowing.

Y/N feigned a casual shrug. “Oh, must’ve forgotten it this morning.”

Katie’s face fell, clearly caught off guard. “Forgotten it? How do you… forget it?”

Y/N kept a straight face, casually slipping her socks on. “I don’t know, Katie. Just did.”

Katie stared at her, brow furrowing, clearly perturbed. “Didn’t think it was something you’d forget,” she muttered, crossing her arms.

Beth and Leah exchanged amused looks, sensing the tension. Leah, never one to resist poking the bear, gave Y/N an exaggerated gasp. “Y/N, isn’t that ring, like, supposed to be your most prized possession?”

Y/N bit back a grin, shrugging as nonchalantly as possible. “I mean, it’s important, sure, but people forget things, right? Just a ring.”

Katie’s mouth dropped open. “Just a ring?!” she repeated, louder than she meant to. “You do know I picked it out especially for you, right?”

Y/N gave her an innocent look. “Of course I know, babe,” she said sweetly. “I’ll just… wear it tomorrow, okay?”

Katie’s face went through a rapid cycle of emotions—disbelief, annoyance, and, finally, resignation as she turned to Beth. “Can you believe this? I spent weeks picking that ring out, and she just forgets it.”

Beth, barely able to keep from laughing, put a sympathetic hand on Katie’s shoulder. “Hey, maybe she just needs some time to get used to it.”

Katie looked back at Y/N, an incredulous expression on her face. “Are you serious, Y/N?”

Y/N stifled her laughter, holding Katie’s gaze. “What? I’m dead serious. It’s not a big deal. I’ll bring it tomorrow.”

Katie huffed, mumbling under her breath, “If I’d known you’d be this casual about it…”

The rest of training was filled with Katie throwing occasional glances Y/N’s way, muttering to herself whenever she saw that bare finger. The team, now fully aware of what was going on, watched with barely concealed amusement. Katie was wound up, and Y/N could tell she was doing everything she could not to bring it up again in front of the team.

After training, as they headed back to the locker room, Katie finally pulled Y/N aside, her voice low and urgent.

“Alright, what’s going on, Y/N? Are you… are you having second thoughts?”

Y/N’s eyes widened, and she could see genuine worry in Katie’s gaze. Immediately, she softened, realizing she might have taken the prank a little too far. But the teasing part of her couldn’t resist one last push.

“Second thoughts?” she said, raising an eyebrow. “Maybe about who’s better at pranks…”

Katie blinked, processing what Y/N had just said, then narrowed her eyes, realization dawning. “You… you’re pranking me?!”

Y/N laughed, reaching out to take Katie’s hand. “Guilty. Thought you could use a taste of your own medicine. Didn’t like thinking I’d forgotten the ring, did you?”

Katie’s face turned from annoyance to a playful smirk. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

Y/N grinned, pulling her fiancée close. “That’s why you love me.”

Katie sighed, rolling her eyes with a reluctant smile. “Fine, fine. But don’t ever forget that ring again—or I’ll find a way to make you pay for it.”

Y/N laughed, bringing her hand up to show the ring she’d stashed in her pocket the whole time. “I could never actually forget it. Just needed to remind you that I can keep up with your pranks any day.”

Katie leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. “Noted. But next time, just wear the ring. I like showing off my fiancée.”

As they headed back to the team, hand in hand, they could hear the cheers and applause of their meddlesome teammates, who’d been watching the entire exchange. Katie just rolled her eyes, but Y/N squeezed her hand, grateful for every second of their ridiculous love.

A quiet evening had settled over London, and for the first time in what felt like ages, Katie and Y/N had the night all to themselves. No pranks, no training early in the morning—just the two of them, sprawled out on the couch, a bottle of wine between them, with an old movie neither of them was paying much attention to playing softly in the background.

Y/N swirled her wine glass and leaned back, a lazy smile on her face. "Remember when you hated me? How I 'ruined' every Arsenal training session?"

Katie snorted, nearly spilling her wine as she nudged Y/N with her shoulder. "Correction: you ruined my training sessions. And yes, I remember. Loud and clear."

Y/N rolled her eyes, chuckling. "The first time we trained together, you went for my ankles like I’d stolen your dog."

Katie threw her head back laughing. “You’re not far off. In my defense, you were showing off a Northern Ireland crest tattoo , and I was not ready to see that at my club.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “And that justified tripping me every five minutes?”

Katie smirked, leaning a little closer. “You kept saying you’d 'walk right back to Ireland' if I tripped you one more time. I was just… testing your resolve.”

Y/N let out a fake gasp, pressing a hand to her chest. "Oh, so you were helping me develop mental toughness?”

Katie grinned. "Exactly. You should be thanking me."

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “You were ruthless, McCabe. Always muttering something under your breath. I thought you’d genuinely curse me every time I touched the ball.”

Katie shot her a playful glare. “Oh, believe me, I was close. I couldn’t stand seeing you on the pitch. And you didn’t make it easy with your cheeky little comments about the ‘inferior side’ either.”

Y/N snickered, taking a sip of her wine. “I don’t know why I did that, honestly. Probably because of the look on your face every time. It was priceless.”

Katie rolled her eyes, but her expression softened as she looked over at Y/N. “The thing is… somewhere along the way, I kinda started to look forward to those arguments. It was the highlight of my day. Even if it drove me mad.”

Y/N smiled, her eyes warm as she studied Katie’s face. “Me too. I never thought I’d actually like you, let alone… you know, love you.”

Katie softened, a little smile tugging at her lips. “You’re pretty impossible not to love.”

Y/N’s smile grew wider, and she nudged Katie’s leg with her foot. “Careful, you’re getting sentimental on me.”

Katie laughed, leaning into her fiancée’s shoulder. “Fine, no more mushy talk. But I’m glad we got past all that rivalry stuff. I couldn’t imagine my life without you now.”

They both fell silent, their gazes drifting to the city lights through the window. After a moment, Katie broke the quiet.

“Do you think we’d still hate each other if we played on different teams?”

Y/N pondered it, tapping her fingers on her glass thoughtfully. “Probably. But I’d also be wondering what you were up to, wondering if you’d still get all mad whenever I got near the goal.”

Katie chuckled, shaking her head. “Knowing us, we’d probably be rivals forever, but the kind that secretly roots for each other.”

They both smiled at the thought, and Katie leaned closer, resting her head against Y/N’s shoulder, intertwining their fingers. The silence between them wasn’t awkward; it was comfortable, the kind of peace that comes when you’ve been through enough ups and downs together to appreciate the simple moments.

Katie eventually broke the silence again, her voice a soft murmur. “We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?”

Y/N gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “We really have.”

For a while, they just sat there, sharing the quiet, letting the past fade as they enjoyed the present, right where they were supposed to be—together.

The stadium was buzzing as the Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland lined up across from each other. The energy was electric, and the fans were on their feet, ready for an intense ninety minutes of international rivalry. But neither team was as fired up as Katie and Y/N.

Katie met Y/N’s gaze from across the pitch, her eyes narrowed with a fierce, competitive glint. Y/N shot her a smirk, giving a small, taunting wave. Katie rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the tiny smile tugging at her lips.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Katie muttered as she jogged past Y/N in warm-ups, a hint of playfulness in her voice. “We’re taking you down today.”

Y/N snorted, tilting her head. “Good luck with that, McCabe. Northern Ireland’s ready for anything you throw at us.”

The game kicked off with both teams giving their all, and Katie and Y/N held nothing back. The crowd watched in awe as Katie, with her usual intensity, threw herself into tackles and pushed her team forward at every opportunity. Y/N matched her, intercepting passes, making blocks, and turning every corner into a chance to push Northern Ireland on the offensive.

There was a moment in the first half when they clashed, literally. Katie went for a sliding tackle, and Y/N dodged it just in time, but the two ended up shoulder to shoulder, glaring at each other with intense, unwavering stares.

Katie huffed out a laugh, her voice just low enough for Y/N to hear, “You’re not getting past me, Y/N.”

Y/N smirked, leaning in just a bit. “We’ll see, Katie. You’re not as tough as you think.”

Katie’s eyes narrowed, and for the briefest moment, Y/N thought she saw a twinkle of amusement there. “Keep dreaming, Y/L/N,” Katie shot back before sprinting after the ball.

As the game wore on, Northern Ireland managed to secure a goal, and the crowd went wild. Y/N, barely containing her excitement, ran back down the pitch, purposefully catching Katie’s eye with a smirk. Katie clenched her fists, determination blazing, and pushed her team even harder.

In the final minutes, with both sides exhausted, Katie got the ball in midfield and went on a run, weaving past Y/N and narrowly missing a goal with a powerful shot that hit the crossbar. Y/N bit back a sigh of relief as the whistle finally blew, signaling the end of the match.

Northern Ireland had won.

Katie, catching her breath, stayed on her side of the pitch, hands on her hips, looking frustrated but undeniably proud. Y/N jogged over to her, eyes gleaming as she slowed down right in front of Katie.

“Guess the best team won, huh?” Y/N teased, her smile mischievous.

Katie rolled her eyes, trying to hold back a grin. “Don’t start, Y/N. We’ll get you next time.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, leaning in closer. “You sure about that? Looked like your team was working pretty hard to keep up.”

Katie huffed, crossing her arms in mock annoyance. “You’re lucky we’re off the pitch right now, or I’d wipe that smirk off your face.”

Y/N chuckled, stepping even closer until there was barely any space between them. “Oh, would you now? Guess we’ll never know.” Her voice softened as she nudged Katie’s shoulder, eyes softening as she spoke. “You played amazing, Katie. I mean it.”

Katie’s faux-scowl melted as she looked back at Y/N, a smile breaking through. “You too, babe. Guess we really do bring out the best in each other, huh?”

Y/N nodded, her heart swelling. She glanced around to make sure no one was watching and then quickly pulled Katie into a hug, burying her face in Katie’s shoulder for a brief moment. Katie hugged her back just as tightly, whispering, “I love you, but I’m still mad you won.”

Y/N laughed, pulling back with a grin. “You’ll survive. And besides, this just means I get bragging rights all month.”

Katie groaned, rolling her eyes but unable to hide her smile. “Fine, fine. But don’t get too used to it.”

They exchanged one last look before heading back to their respective teams, but both knew they’d be right back in each other’s arms as soon as they could slip away.

Back at the hotel that night, after a post-match dinner and some inevitable teasing from teammates, Y/N finally managed to catch Katie alone in the hallway. Katie smirked as soon as she saw her, folding her arms.

“Don’t think this means I’m letting you off easy. You might’ve won today, but I’ll be back,” Katie said, trying to keep her tone serious but failing to hide the sparkle in her eyes.

Y/N grinned, stepping close and resting her hand on Katie’s arm. “I’m looking forward to it, McCabe. I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Katie gave her a teasing glare. “Just you wait, Y/L/N. Next time, it’ll be me teasing you.”

Y/N laughed, pressing a quick kiss to Katie’s cheek before pulling her into a hug. “Bring it on. But until then, you’ll just have to deal with the fact that I’m the winner.”

Katie groaned but hugged her tighter. “Yeah, yeah. Enjoy it while it lasts, Y/N. I’m coming for that win next time.”

They held each other close, the rivalry left on the field as they enjoyed the comfort of each other’s arms. All the banter, all the competition—it only made this moment feel even sweeter.

Three years had flown by, and Y/N and Katie’s lives had changed in ways they’d once only imagined. Now, not only were they partners in life and still teammates on Arsenal’s pitch, but they had a little girl, Ava, who had quickly become the light of their lives. With Katie’s fiery attitude and Y/N’s quiet determination, Ava had inherited quite the personality—and a strong set of lungs to match.

The whole team had gathered at the park for an impromptu picnic. As Ava toddled around, squealing in delight as she chased the team’s soccer balls, Katie and Y/N watched on with quiet smiles, occasionally casting each other amused glances.

Leah, watching Ava attempt to kick a ball with all her might (and only managing to send it rolling gently forward), chuckled and leaned over to Katie with a smirk. “So…have you two decided yet?” she asked mischievously.

Katie squinted at her, confused. “Decided what?”

Leah tilted her head toward Ava, grinning. “Which team Ava’s going to support, Republic of Ireland or Northern Ireland?”

Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes. “Oh, don’t get her started, Leah. She’s already making plans.”

Katie nudged Y/N, giving her a mock glare. “Oi, plans? She’s obviously going to support Ireland—my Ireland.”

“Oh really?” Y/N shot back, folding her arms, a playful challenge in her eyes. “She’s as much my daughter as yours, Katie. Northern Ireland’s got plenty to offer.”

Katie scoffed, placing her hands on her hips. “Name one thing Northern Ireland’s got that beats a Republic of Ireland jersey with ‘McCabe’ on the back.”

Y/N grinned. “How about an NI jersey with Y/L/N on it?” She glanced over to see Ava waving the soccer ball at Leah, who was playing along by dramatically pretending she couldn’t catch it. “See? She’s already got Leah wrapped around her finger. An arsenal fan, through and through at least.”

Katie gasped in mock offense, clutching her chest. “Leah, you traitor!”

Leah shrugged, holding back laughter. “Hey, don’t drag me into this! Besides,” she teased, winking at Katie, “everyone knows I’m Ava’s favorite. So, maybe she’ll grow up as a Lioness.”

Katie rolled her eyes. “Lioness? Not a chance. You’ll see—first time she sees her mama in green, she’ll be cheering with pride.” She reached over and scooped Ava up, spinning her around, and Ava squealed with delight. “Right, Ava? You’ll wear green like your mama, won’t you?”

Ava’s tiny fists pumped into the air as she babbled excitedly, though neither Katie nor Y/N could make out a single word. But Ava’s enthusiasm was enough to make Katie beam, certain she’d just gotten the confirmation she wanted.

Y/N laughed, crossing her arms and shaking her head. “We’ll see about that, Katie. I’ve got time to win her over.”

Katie turned back, smirking. “Oh, it’s on, Y/L/N. But don’t say I didn’t warn you when you’re dealing with a McCabe superfan in a few years.”

The two shared a laugh, but as Katie pulled Y/N in close, their teasing faded into warm smiles. Ava squirmed between them, clearly ready to return to her soccer ball, and Katie set her down with a grin. They watched Ava charge toward Leah, babbling in her own language as she went, and Katie squeezed Y/N’s hand.

“Guess we’ll just have to wait and see,” Katie murmured, her voice soft and full of affection.

Y/N leaned her head against Katie’s shoulder, eyes on their little girl. “Yeah, but whatever team she ends up cheering for, she’ll always be our little star.”

Katie nodded, resting her head against Y/N’s. “Our little Ava—future football legend, no matter the color.”

As Ava squealed with joy, Leah joined the couple, shaking her head in amusement. “I’ll say this, though—Ava’s got the luckiest parents in the world. And if we’re being honest,” she added with a grin, “she’s going to be one heck of a player no matter which team she roots for.”

Katie and Y/N exchanged a proud smile, both knowing that Leah was absolutely right. Their daughter was already shaping up to be just as fierce and full of heart as her mothers.

Seventeen years had passed, and the day Y/N and Katie had always joked about—but secretly dreaded—had finally arrived. Their daughter, Ava, now a young football sensation in her own right, was making her England debut. England. Of all teams. She was a Lioness.

As the stadium buzzed with excitement, Katie sat grumbling in the stands, arms folded across her chest. Y/N was next to her, frowning at the England flag waving on the big screen as it showcased Ava’s name. Meanwhile, Leah, sitting on the other side of Y/N, was practically bouncing with pride, her England scarf wrapped around her shoulders.

Katie leaned toward Y/N, muttering in a voice loud enough for Leah to hear, “Unbelievable. How did we let this happen?”

Y/N sighed, shaking her head. “Years of her godmother whispering in her ear, that’s how.”

Leah laughed, unfazed by their grumbling. “Oh, come on, you two! You can’t deny she’s right where she belongs.”

Katie scoffed, her arms still crossed tightly. “I can’t believe I’m about to cheer for England. My own daughter… in a white jersey!”

Leah rolled her eyes, turning to Y/N. “Come on, back me up here, Y/N. You’ve been through her endless debating, the sleepless nights before choosing. You know she loves this team.”

Y/N groaned, torn between her pride for Ava and her allegiance to her own roots. “I know, I know. But it’s still surreal, Leah. Our little Ava could’ve chosen any team.”

Katie shot Y/N a look, nodding in agreement. “Exactly. Republic of Ireland was right there.”

Leah laughed again, shaking her head. “Oh, come on. We all knew from the time she was little that she’d choose England. I mean, look at her godmother.” She winked and pointed proudly to herself, her England scarf gleaming under the stadium lights.

Katie rolled her eyes. “Yeah, exactly. Look what we’re stuck with. This is what happens when you let Leah be a godmother.”

Y/N chuckled, nudging Katie’s shoulder. “Oh, stop it. It’s not the worst thing in the world. At least she’s playing for someone’s team here.”

Katie huffed, waving her hand dismissively. “Fine, but I’m blaming Leah for the rest of my life.”

At that moment, the players ran out onto the field, and Ava’s name flashed on the jumbotron. Leah jumped to her feet, clapping and cheering, while Katie and Y/N joined in, though their clapping was far less enthusiastic.

As Ava glanced up toward the stands, she spotted them, giving a big grin and a wave. Katie softened just a bit, nudging Y/N. “Look at that face. She’s having the time of her life, isn’t she?”

Y/N smiled, a mix of pride and amusement in her eyes. “She is. And she looks just like you when you played your first match. Well…minus the green jersey.”

Katie rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile spreading across her face. “Alright, alright. I admit it. I’m proud. But I’ll be even prouder if she scores against Leah’s team.”

Leah laughed again, clearly enjoying every second of this. “In your dreams, Katie. Ava’s going to make you eat those words when she scores her first England goal!”

As the whistle blew, the game kicked off, and for all their grumbling, Katie and Y/N couldn’t take their eyes off their daughter, watching her every move with a mixture of awe and pride.

And when Ava did finally score—her very first goal in an England shirt—the stadium erupted in cheers, with Leah leaping to her feet, shouting, “That’s my goddaughter!”

Katie let out a groan but stood up, clapping nonetheless, and muttered under her breath, “Fine… maybe England isn’t all bad.”

Y/N squeezed Katie’s hand, her eyes misty as she watched Ava celebrate with her teammates. “Yeah, maybe not. Just this once.”

Leah smirked, her face filled with triumph. “I knew you two would come around eventually.”

Katie shot her a playful glare. “Don’t get too smug, Leah. She may be wearing white now, but she’ll still always be our daughter first.”

Leah threw an arm around both of them, laughing as the three of them watched Ava jog back to the halfway line, glowing with pride and excitement. “Lucky for her, she’s got the best of both worlds.”

Y/N and Katie exchanged a look, finally giving in and laughing along. For all their teasing and the years of rivalry, nothing could change the love they felt for their daughter, no matter what colors she wore.

After the international break the transfer season opened up, and with it a whole other can of worms.

Ava’s transfer to Chelsea had been the talk of the league for weeks, but when the official announcement dropped, it hit harder than any of them expected. Ava McCabe-Y/L/N, a product of the Arsenal academy, and the daughter of two Arsenal legends, was making the switch to their fiercest rival.

When Katie and Y/N arrived at the pub, the mood was thick with tension, and every player they passed wore expressions ranging from shock to outright betrayal. By the time they reached the tables, the team was buzzing with mixed emotions.

Katie put her hands on her hips, eyeing everyone. “Alright, everyone, calm down.”

Leah, looking stunned and visibly heartbroken, crossed her arms and let out a deep sigh. “Calm down? Your daughter—who we’ve all practically raised at this club—is now playing for Chelsea, Katie. Chelsea!”

Y/N let out a small laugh, though it held a hint of nervousness. “Oh, believe me, we didn’t see this one coming, either. You think we’re happy about this?”

Beth groaned dramatically. “How could she do this to Leah? How could she do this to me? To all of Arsenal? And, uh, to you two, of course,” she added, glancing apologetically at Katie and Y/N.

Katie grumbled, crossing her arms with a huff. “Tell me about it. But we’ve got to support her, don’t we?”

The room erupted in laughter, though it was more out of disbelief than humor. Viv, shaking her head, muttered, “This is unreal. She grew up at that club. Arsenal is in her blood.”

Y/N sighed, shrugging helplessly. “We thought so, too. But she’s her own person, and she wanted to follow her own path.” She exchanged a look with Katie, who looked like she was fighting an internal battle of pride and frustration.

“Her own path at Chelsea,” Katie scoffed, though a small smile broke through as she shook her head. “A part of me can’t help but respect her for it.”

Leah threw her hands up in mock surrender. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re on board with this already!”

Katie chuckled, giving in. “No, no, of course not! I still can’t believe it. But we both know Ava’s always had a mind of her own.”

Y/N gave Katie a soft nudge. “She’s a McCabe—she was bound to do something this dramatic at some point.”

The entire locker room dissolved into laughter, with Katie shaking her head in defeat. “Alright, alright. I suppose she gets that from me.”

“Absolutely,” Leah said, wiping away a tear of laughter. “But you two better not show up in Chelsea blue any time soon, or I’m done.”

Katie threw her hands up in surrender. “Relax, Leah. We’re Arsenal through and through.” Then, leaning back with a smirk, she added, “Though, if you ask Ava, she might have other ideas.”

The room filled with laughter again, with the team gradually accepting that, while Ava’s decision was shocking, it wasn’t the end of the world. She’d always be their Ava, even if she wore the wrong colors. And though Katie and Y/N weren’t thrilled with her choice, they couldn’t help but feel a little proud of her fierce independence—even if it meant she was now the product of their greatest rival.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The End

[shaunamilfman]

to be felled by you

pairing: shauna shipman x reader summary: What started out as a fistfight in the middle of the woods might actually manage to bring you together as you work out your differences in a more pleasurable way. note: smut but theres like fr descriptions of violence before it

“Shauna,” you snapped, jerking your arm away from her grasp as she dragged you off into the trees. You follow a step behind her as you let her lead you away, already having half an idea what this was about. If she wanted to do this, you sure as hell weren’t going to stop her. 

Shauna finally whirls around, turning to face you quickly enough that you stumble into her. You can feel both of her hands on your shoulders before she sends you stumbling backward. You hit the ground with a surprised grunt, staring up at the stars as you try to figure out how you got here. You press up with your elbows as you look up at her, slowly sitting up as Shauna glares down at you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You huff, slowly making your way to your feet as you keep your eyes focused on her. You knew she was angry, and when Shauna was angry she made it everyone else’s problem. This was going to get explosive.

The two of you are locked in a standoff as you glare at each other from a few feet away. You brush the dirt off of your elbows, disgruntled and more than a little confused. You’re still not entirely sure what this is even about, but you weren’t in the best of moods to begin with. 

Hitting the dirt certainly didn’t help.

Shauna’s eyes were intense and cruel, her jaw clenched in a way that told you she was seething. Her hands were clenched tight, a slight tremble to them as she struggles to get ahold of her temper. You try to keep yourself calm, but you’re starting to realize that’s just as much of a losing battle for you as it clearly is for her.

“Is this about earlier, Shauna?” you ask, slow and cautious. “We can still talk about it. We don’t have to do this.”

You’re not sure if you could keep that promise, but it’s even more unlikely that Shauna would even go for it. It made you feel slightly better to offer it, anyway. Shauna didn’t want a calm, rational conversation, you knew. She didn’t want to talk it out with you, she just wanted to hit you. She needed the fight.

She scoffs, a bitter smile telling you what she thinks of that idea. “You always do this,” she accuses. “Acting like just talking can fix everything.” 

“What do you want, Shauna? A fight? Fine.”

“You followed me all the way out here,” she accuses. “Don’t pretend you didn’t know what it was about.”

Shauna clenches her fists, her knuckles turning white as she shifts just enough that you start to raise your guard. You slowly mirror her, muscles tense and ready as you watch her face. She’s always been so expressive, her face showing every little thought that runs through her head. It’s a wonder it doesn’t get her in trouble more, as you can tell from the set of her jaw exactly when she’s made her mind up about swinging on you.

She swings at you with a wild punch that just misses as you take a reflexive step back. Her knuckle just barely grazes your jaw, leaving her slightly off balance as you retaliate with a shove. Shauna grunts as her back hits the tree, the impact sending a shock through her body as her eyes widen. 

You watch her as she catches her breath, a wild look in her eyes as you raise your arms defensively. With a snarl she pushes off the tree, on you again in a heartbeat. You just barely manage to sidestep, scraping your arm up something fierce on the tree for your efforts as you grab her arm and twist it behind her back. 

The sound she makes is barely human, filled with rage and sending shivers down your spine. Her back is pressed flush against you for a moment, the two of you frozen in a twisted sort of embrace before she kicks back at your shin. It lands with a painful thud, nearly taking your breath away with the sudden sharp pain as you have to resist the urge to grab at your leg.

Her elbow finds your ribs, forcing you to step back as the simple act of breathing becomes painful. You lash out, landing a desperate blow against the side of her face as you create some distance to catch your breath.

Damn, could she throw a punch. Not that you ever doubted it.

Her hand slowly reaches up to her face, her eyes narrowing as her fingers come away slick with blood. Shauna looks dangerous, almost feral, as she slowly cocks her head to the side to study you. She takes a step forward, grinning as you take a step back. Her blood is dripping down into her teeth, turning the look into something nightmarish as she advances.

Springing forward out of the blue, she takes the both of you to the floor in a mess of limbs and flailing punches. Anger fuels you, overriding any hesitations you have about rolling around with her in the dirt.

You manage to pin her for a moment, your forearm pressed against her throat as she glares up at you. Her teeth snap as she tries to bite at your outstretched arm, a move that didn’t much surprise you considering just who you had beneath you.

“Is this what you wanted, Shauna?” you hissed, pressing down just lightly enough to avoid actually choking her. Her eyes flicker with something other than rage for just a second before she manages to throw you off balance with a sudden buck of her hips. 

The smell of the earth and leaves fills your nostrils, the sound of cracking sticks punctuating the air as the two of you roll through the underbrush. You cry out as she finally lands a hit, turning your head with the force of it as your vision spins. 

For a while, all you know is rage, consumed with the need to hurt her more than she hurt you. It's clear she feels the same, that her anger is the only thing holding her up as you punch her wherever is closest. 

You get a few hits to her face, more slaps than anything with how much you struggle to get any real distance to swing, before she yanks at your hair. It stings more than you thought it would, sparing only a passing thought to how fucking petty hair-pulling is before you reach up and start bending her finger away.

She lets go quickly, a muffled yelp leaving her mouth at the threat of you actually doing serious damage to her finger otherwise. You take her distraction for what it is, finally managing to get enough leverage to get up on your knees above her as you pin her wrists above her head. Breathing heavily, you look down at her, her body still twisting and thrashing as she tries to get you off of her.

Shauna’s panting heavily, the rise and fall of her chest a distracting motion that you force yourself to turn away from as you finally get a real look at her. Her hair looks messy, tangled with leaves and the remnants of broken sticks from the forest floor. Her face isn’t much better, smeared with dirt and blood as it trickles slowly down her face from her nose. 

The sight of her, bruised and battered, is more distracting than you’d anticipated. It's intoxicating having Shauna underneath you like this, pinned and unable to do anything about it. 

She's thrashing beneath you, more like a wild animal than you'd ever seen her. You're sure that she could get you back off of her if she tried hard enough, so it has to be somewhat of a deliberate choice. 

Her face is flushed with anger, and something else that you can’t quite name. There’s a flicker of something else in her eyes, just long enough for it to catch your attention.

Her face, betraying her once again. She struggles beneath you; her face just inches from yours, giving you an up close look as your heavy breaths mingle together. Your grip on her wrists loosens just the slightest as you lean closer and closer. Shauna falters as your warm breath reaches her lips, searching your face for some kind of understanding. 

You wonder if she's going to kiss you or kill you. 

You almost pull away as she leans forward, afraid she's just going to bite you. And she does, hard. But not nearly as hard as she can, not hard enough to break the skin. 

She holds your lip between her teeth, just long enough for you to understand the threat of it before she soothes it with her tongue. 

The line slowly starts to blur between you, and before you know it you’ve both leaned in. The kiss was another battle within itself, all teeth and tongues and raw anger as you fight for control. Hands that were once weapons are now used as tools, both of you intending to make the other break first. The urgency that underlies your fight has shifted, a new desire taking its place.

You're not sure what's wrong with you, why you'd kiss a girl that was just trying to hurt you. But you can't pull yourself away. 

Won't even try to. 

She’s possessive, claiming every inch of you for herself. She finally slips out of your hands, making you readjust your position as she starts feeling you up. There’s nothing gentle about her touch, all passion and hunger that borders on obsession. Shauna wants to devour you, and you’re not about to put up a fight.

The rough feeling of the forest floor beneath your knees grounds you, something painfully sharp digging into your knee and keeping you solely in the moment even as your head spins.

Shauna’s hands make their way back into your hair, not to injure, but instead to draw you closer as you slip your cold hands up Shauna’s shirt. You break apart for air, both gasping heavily once again, but this time her eyes were dark with lust instead of just anger. You come together again without a word exchanged, fight forgotten as you press tightly against each other.

The taste of blood and dirt mixes with the intensity of the kiss, but you can’t bring yourself to deny yourself for even a moment. Shauna’s hands roam your back, her fingers digging in just enough to leave marks, a physical reminder of what’s gone down. You break away with a cry of pain as she drags her nails down your back, a look of possessive glee on her face as you rest your forehead against hers.

“Watch those,” you mutter, truly not that put out about it. 

Shauna shrugs, moving her lips to your jaw in lieu of an apology. She trails hot kisses down your neck, insistent as she rolls her hips up against yours. Her teeth dig in just enough to leave a mark, leaving a trail of bruises that will be hell to hide. Shauna’s hands tangle in your hair as she tilts your head back, exposing more skin to mark up. 

Your hands roam her body with a desperation you’d never admit to, needing to memorize every curve and dip of her body. The fight has completely melted away, replaced with a need to be close, to feel her body against yours. You capture her lips again, slower this time, wanting to savor the taste of her. You can feel every inch of her against you, her shirt riding up with your hands.

The kiss is every bit as intense without the underlying anger. Shauna’s hands move to cup your face, brushing the dirt away from your cheeks as she arches up against you.

You pull away with a laugh, amused despite yourself at her impatience. The sight of her face doesn’t help much, the blood on her face now utterly unflattering now that it’s been smeared everywhere. You’re sure you look about the same as Shauna’s lips twitch in turn. 

She lets out a frustrated sigh as she glares, her head dropping back against the ground in irritation. Her eyes follow the movement of your lips, not at all appreciating the separation. She’s annoyed that you aren’t kissing her still, finally sitting up as she shrugs off her flannel. You bat her hands away as she reaches for the hem of her shirt, wanting to take it off yourself as you slowly expose the sweat-slicked skin beneath.

Shauna’s eyes follow your hands as they slowly skim her sides, feeling the curves of her torso. Her skin was warm and smooth, muscles toned from years of soccer. She lets out a ragged breath as you reach higher, the heat of her skin searing into your palms even through her bra as you cup her chest. Her eyes flutter shut as she leans into your hands, allowing you to stare unashamedly at her as she responds to your touch.

Her hands roam your back, impatient as she tugs at the fabric of your shirt. You raise your arms reluctantly, pulling away from her skin to let her pull it over your head.

It’s like she can’t get it off quick enough, almost yanking it over your shoulders in her haste to see you. She immediately narrows in on the bruise she left forming your ribs, running her fingertips lightly over it. You quickly redirect her attention as you start to lay her back down, not wanting her to get any ideas about applying pressure to it.

You hit the ground with a huff as she reverses your position, suddenly smug as she looks down at you. Her triumphant expression is infuriating, her eyes glinting with a mixture of victory and amusement. You shift uncomfortably, sitting up to brush away the rock digging into your skin that you're sure she took great care to flip you on top of. Her thighs hug one of yours, the warmth and pressure a constant reminder of her as your hands settle on her hips. 

She's got a lazy smile on her face that you know promises trouble, opening her mouth to say something you're sure is appropriately cutting before you decide to give her a taste of her own medicine. 

Shauna lets out a surprised squeak as you bite her for once, blushing so hard you can feel it against your face as you worry the skin of her neck between your teeth. A deep, shuddery breath marks the action, her hand coming up to hold you against her skin rather than push you away. Her grip is firm, possessive, a clear sign that she doesn’t want you to stop.

You can feel how excited it’s made her, her pulse thrumming beneath your teeth as you let go. She inhales sharply as you run your tongue along the length of the mark before soothing it with kisses as her fingers tighten in your hair. Her lazy smile has been wiped from her face, replaced with a look of intense desire almost bordering on awe.

There’s a deep, painful looking bruise on her neck that makes her thighs squeeze around yours as she presses her fingers against it. There would be no hiding that one, which you're sure is part of the appeal. What you wouldn't give to be a fly on the wall as she tries to explain that to Jackie Taylor. 

“Is this what you wanted, Shauna?” You repeat, your voice tinged with a mixture of desire and a lingering defiance. 

Once again, she doesn’t answer with words. Instead, she pulls you into another kiss before trailing her way down to your shoulder. Her teeth scrape over your shoulder before she bites you again; not too hard, just enough for it to show. She makes sure you can feel her there, her arms resting over your shoulders as she holds you in place, her breath hot against your skin.

You rest your hands on her hips, slowly, deliberately, rocking her onto your thigh in a move she's eager to assist with. Her body moves in sync with yours, creating an intoxicating rhythm as she rides your thigh. She kisses the mark she's left, her tongue flicking out to soothe the skin before lightly nibbling at it.

Her hands splay out against your back, fingers spread wide as they flex into your skin. The friction sends a jolt of pleasure through you both, her forehead resting against your shoulder as she moves against you. Her breath comes out in quick, shallow bursts as you drag her down harder against your thigh. 

“Yeah,” she breathes out. “This is what I wanted.” Her skin is slick with sweat, her muscles flexing and relaxing beneath your touch. She pauses as you pull away, taking a moment to admire the bruise forming on your skin. A little shiver of delight goes through her, a sigh following it as you’re finally out of biting range.

She starts to follow you down before reconsidering as you tug her hips forward. There’s a curious look on her face as she scoots up, her eyes widening suddenly as she realizes what you want. Her hands play at the button of her jeans before quickly agreeing, almost falling over herself in her eagerness to get out of them.

Shauna presses her hands against your chest, swinging one leg over your torso in one fluid motion as she straddles you. You gasp at the feeling of her bare against your stomach, your hands grabbing instinctively at her thighs as she rolls her hips against you. Her knees dig into your sides, a purposeful squeeze that has you short for breath.

She slowly made her way up your chest, guaranteeing she had your attention as she positioned herself. Her thighs framed your face, raising up to let you reposition yourself as she stares down at you. You squeeze her skin beneath your fingers, your thumb pressing into the muscles of her thighs appreciatively.

Your hands tighten around her thighs as she lowers herself to your face. She sighs at the first tentative touch of your tongue, groaning as you dig your fingertips in to drag her closer. The pressure of her thighs against your shoulders has you sighing against her skin, lapping at her eagerly the second she gets in reach.

Shauna gasps as your tongue delves deep inside her, making her squirm as you circle her entrance. You keep up the pace, slow and measured as you drive her wild. Her back arches as she tries to hold back the moan, quickly overwhelmed by your attention.

You think you could get addicted to this: the taste of her, the little sounds that leave her mouth, the way her muscles tremble as she struggles to keep still, the way her fingers bury themselves in your hair as her back arches. She’s so wet against your mouth, you can already feel her dripping down your face.

Shauna blushes at the wet slurping noises as you eat her out, her thighs trembling as your tongue dances around her sensitive spots.

“Fuck,” she whispers. You’re ruthlessly attentive, hands gripping her tightly to hold her in place as you devour her. You finally let go of her, only to slap her hands away as she tries to slip her hand between her thighs.

The sight of her, flushed and desperate as you look up at her from between her thighs, has you moaning into her. Her hips jerk and the sensation of your tongue brushing against her clit has her gasping, instinctively rolling her hips before she catches herself. Her nails dig into your scalp, her thighs tightening around your head as she tilts her hips up in a silent plea for more.

You tease her clit with quick, deft flicks of your tongue. Her back arches as she moans, her grip on your hair becoming painful as you taste her. She tentatively rocks her hips forward, quickly making her own rhythm at your lack of protests. 

You let her control the pace, let her dig her nails into your scalp as her body tenses. She’s achingly beautiful above you, flushed and desperate.

The sound of her need mixes with her ragged breath, a soft whine leaving her lips as she becomes more erratic. Shauna’s so close you can feel it, her body quivering as she starts to reach the edge. 

You can’t help but delight in her loss of control, the way she bites her lip to stop from crying out, the way her hands drop from your hair as you drive her wild.

She pulls your fingers away from her skin as she laces your fingers together, holding onto your hands for purchase as her hips move with your mouth. She cries out your name as she comes, her whole body shuddering as her hips stutter out her release.

Shauna collapses back on your chest, your hands pulling away from hers to support her thighs as the weight of her starts to become too much. Her thighs are still trembling as she pulls away, settling on her knees next to you as you sit up.

Her eyes are laser focused on your face, biting at her lip as she wipes her thumb across your lower face. It comes away wet, a mixture of your blood and her arousal that she slowly licks away. She leans down, sharing the taste between you as she captures your lips again.

“Please,” you mumble against her lips, holding her face ever so gently between your hands. You want more, or you want her. It's all the same thing, really. 

… 

“I’m sorry,” you say after a while, turning your head to look at her.

She turns to give you a confused look, her lips quirking into a smile. 

“I didn’t realize you liked Jackie when I was talking her up earlier.”

Shauna snorts, face turning red, before burning her face into your shoulder as she shakes with laughter. 

“You’re so stupid,” she chokes out, slapping lightly at your chest as she wheezes from how hard she’s laughing.

“What?”

“It was you, idiot.”

Oh. Oh.

“Well–”

[zorosleftshoe]

Cherry Pie - (c.b)

Warnings: swearing (as usual 🙄), angst (slight enemies to lovers), SMUT, p in v, unprotected

Pairing: Colby Brock x Reader

“Did you really have to bring her?” Colby’s voice filled the room as his tone reeked with venom. It had only been thirty seconds and I already wanted to deck him. Once for the way he spoke of me like I wasn’t in the room and two, for the way his tongue poking out to wet his lips made my knees buckle.

“Just be civil, yeah?” Sam sighed in defeat as he plopped down on the couch next to Nate who was tuning his guitar.

“I have no issue being civil. It’s cavemen like him that have an issue.” Colby scoffed at my words before turning his gaze to the cryptic show that played on the all too big television. “Anyways, I thought you said we were going to the boardwalk.” Sam’s eyes met mine momentarily before shifting towards the floor guiltily.

“We were but Colby said he needed help editing our video.” His voiced trailed off as the realization set in that I had been bested. “Before you go thinking I tricked you, I didn’t. I still fully intend to keep my word. I just need to finish up our video before we head there. Is that okay?” Sam’s eyes are pleading and I can’t help but sigh in acceptance.

“Sure. But if I have to stay in this room with him any longer I may puke on your pretty carpet.” Colby scoffed once more before rising to his feet and closing the distance between us.

“You think you’re hot shit?” His baby blues stare me down as he towers over me. “I have yet to figure out why Sam keeps you around. My only theory is that you’re just a body for him but even he wouldn’t stoop that low.” Colby’s words are harsh as he spews them at me. “You come into my house trying to berate me when you’re the problem.” Nate pushes his guitar to the side, preparing himself to jump in if things get out of hand as Sam has already risen to his feet. “You think I don’t know why you’re friends with him? You want a piece of the fame. You want all the perks that come with knowing Sam and Colby. Well I’ve got news for ya, sweetheart. We’re not your bank. You don’t get to throw our names out there to gain a few extra dollars.” Sam places a shaky hand on Colby’s chest and presses him further away from me. He staggers a bit but his eyes never leave my own. His canines practically on display as he audibly growls at me.

“I don’t need you to boost my ratings. I’m doing just fine on my own and if Sam chooses to be in my videos because I ask him to,” I pause looking at Sam who is masked with a pained expression. “Who can say no any time he chooses, mind you. That’s up to him. I would never use someone like that.” Colby rolls his eyes before pushing Sam’s hand away from him.

“Whatever. Do what you want. Just don’t make a mess.” Colby stalks out of the room taking his laptop with him and leaving the three of us to stare at one another as the silence becomes deafening.

“Well that was-“ Sam cuts Nate off with a swift kick to the shin and he groans.

“I told you to be civil.” Sam’s eyes are anything but accusing as the words fall from his lips. He knows I had only retaliated in self defense as Colby had backed me into a corner. “I don’t know why you two can’t just get along.” I take a seat next to Sam and pat his back in a friendly manner.

“Would you like for me to go apologize?” He shakes his head and my shoulders relax at the thought of not having another interaction with Colby.

“That would just start another world war three and I can’t deal with the headache. I still have to finish the editing.” Sam groans before collapsing against the back of the couch and covering his eyes with his forearm. “Colby has my laptop charger.” With a heavy sigh, I rise to my feet and dust off my all too tight black shorts.

“I will ask him for it, okay? I’ll apologize for the whole fiasco and have a talk with him.” Sam’s face shifts as worry glosses over his delicate features. “It’ll be fine.” At this point I’m not sure if I’m trying to reassure Sam or myself. “It’s just Colby.” The stairs seemed to grow longer with each step I took towards what I could only consider impending doom.

It wasn’t that I hated Colby. If anything, I felt complete indifference towards him, given he had quickly shut me down and left me wondering what I had done wrong after our first meeting.

Colby’s door was shut and I couldn’t help but feel myself inch backwards towards the stairs. This was a stupid idea. With a heavy sigh I find myself rapping my knuckles against the wood of his door. In the distance there’s a soft groan before footsteps. The door opens and Colby’s head peaks through the small opening he has allowed. His eyes widen as he drinks in my figure standing before him.

“What the hell do you want?” I can feel my blood already beginning to boil at his words but I suppress what I’m feeling for Sam’s sake.

“Sam needs his charger.” He grunts before going to move away but I’m quick to reach out and lightly touch his hand that is still rested against the door. “I also wanted to apologize.” Colby’s eyebrows raise in what I can only assume is confusion.

“Why the hell would you do that?” I cock my head slightly and he shakes his head before opening the door enough for me to squeeze through. “I thought this was our thing?”

“Huh?”

“Hating each other? I thought that was our thing?” He asks scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“I never said I hated you. In fact, I never said anything about how I felt about you.” I pause fiddling with a loose hem on the bottom of my shirt. “You would say all these harsh things and I felt like I had no choice but to retaliate. Eye for an eye type of thing.” Colby scoffs before settling beside me on his bed.

“If it means anything now, I never hated you either.” His words are much softer now. Any anger that had lingered before has vanished and was replaced with a new feeling. “I only said that shit because,” he pauses then. His hands are clasped firmly in his lap and I notice how he picks at the skin of his thumb.

“Because?” He groans in frustration before covering his eyes with his hands.

“If you’d give me a damn minute I’d tell you.” His cheeks, now tinted pink, puff up before he looks at me. “Because I was protecting myself.” My eyebrows twitch up in confusion at his words. Protecting himself? “You came hurdling into my life like a fucking meteor and I didn’t know what to do. All of a sudden this beautiful girl is here and she’s so fucking hilarious. She has the same interest as me, she’s best friends with my best friend, and she’s the sweetest person I’ve ever met.” He pauses, glancing away from me, clearly embarrassed. “I hate the way you make me feel.” These words are whispered as if they are a secret he isn’t quite sure he’s ready to tell.

“And how do I make you feel?” By now, our bodies have subconsciously moved closer to the point our pinkies are dancing dangerously close to one another. Colby glances down at them but makes no attempt to move away from the subtle touch.

“Like a firework that’s about to explode.” His explanation is curt but his eyes are saying everything he’s unable to. “I’m not,” he pauses shifting his gaze. “I’m not good with words.” His timid eyes allow my own to soften. His hard exterior cracking, crumbling before me and letting vulnerability shine through.

“I think I know what you mean.” His cerulean eyes glazing over with a hint of something. Something quite unfamiliar. Something I had never seen in Colby before. “Every time I’m near you I feel this electricity.” I take a chance and glance down at our hands, gently nudging his pinky with my own. He gets the hint and allows me to interlock our fingers together. “I always thought it was anxiety.” I say softly using my free hand to fiddle with a loose string on my shorts.

Colby’s mouth opens and shuts with words that he wants to say but is holding back. His tongue pokes through his cherry red lips to wet them in a nervous tick I’d seen him do many times prior. The atmosphere changes as our eyes meet for the umpteenth time since I stepped into his cozy room and I find myself leaning closer into his space.

“What are you doing?” His words are rushed and I can tell from his demeanor he’s somewhat unsure of how to react to what’s happening. With a hint of a smirk resting on my face, I look up at him through thick eyelashes and watch as he visibly gulps at the sight.

“Something I should have done awhile ago.” He gasps as I lean forward and press my lips against his. His hands instinctively move from the bedsheets to rest against my hip and the side of my face, his thumb combing over my cheek in a loving way. My tongue traces his bottom lip to which he happily allows access.

His hand grips onto my right thigh before slinging it across his sitting form, forcing me to straddle him. He groans when I roll my hips against his growing erection.

“Colby?” He hums, his eyes meet mine and I notice how his pupils are blown wide and lust clouds over what was once a look of hatred. “Are you sure you want to do this? There’s no going back.” My hips are still rolling to meet his at a steady pace and it takes him a moment to collect himself enough to answer.

“You,” I huff as the clothing separating us grazes my clit in the most delicious way. “You are all I have wanted. I don’t want to go back.” Colby takes this as the only confirmation he needs and he viciously attacks my neck in open mouthed kisses. Biting, sucking, then smoothing his tongue over the overworked sensitive skin. Part of me wants to ask how he got so good at this, but his hands on my hips rocking me faster has my brain hazy.

“You know I would think about you?” His words are raspy and spread out as his lips trail over my exposed collarbone. “At night when I was alone.” His teeth nick at the base of my neck and I whimper in compliance. “Can’t imagine how good you’ll feel instead of my hand.” He moves the hand that had been resting tightly in my hair, holding me steady, between our bodies and pops open the button of my shorts. “Although you look so fucking hot in these, I’d rather see you without them.” He helps me shimmy the unwanted fabric from my body and I watch in awe as he eyes the red lace that rests against my skin. A hint of a smirk on his face. “Oh, baby.” He coos. “Don’t tell me you wore these for Sam.” I shake my head and his smirk grows. “For me?”

“Always for you.” His cold fingers trail down the cotton of my shirt before reaching the hem and nudging it upwards. I comply and pull it over my head before locking my fingers in his brown locks.

“Always for me? After this you may not get rid of me.” He pauses looking up into my lovestruck eyes. “You okay with that?” I lean forward and press my lips against his. Unlike before, this kiss is all skin and teeth. He groans when I roll my hips to gain some much wanted friction. “So impatient.” He says pulling away for some air. His ring clad hand slips between us and disappears passed the waistband of my shorts. He uses his index finger to stimulate the small bud of nerves before trailing down my slit to my core eliciting a breathy moan from my lips.

“Huh?” His touch fades as he moves his hand up to his lips and sucks on his newly coated finger. “Why’d you stop?” He smirks at the urgency in my tone.

“Sweeter than cherry pie, baby girl.” He lightly tosses me onto the bed from where I had been on his lap before he’s on top of me and his lips smashed against mine. This kiss is all skin and teeth as he presses his body down against mine. Breathy moans fill the room around us as the tension grows stronger till it feels like a rubber band that has been stretched too far.

“I’m ready, Colby.” He pulls away before trailing sloppy open mouthed kisses down my jaw to the base of my neck where he nips lightly at my collar bone.

“Let me just grab-“ he goes to reach for his dresser but I lightly take his hand in mine.

“It’s okay.” He visibly gulps at the two words that leave my swollen lips. He then reaches down to tug off his sweatpants with my shorts and panties following suit.

“Are you sure?” I nod, watching as he aligns himself with my entrance. He thrust forward, enough to bully his tip into my core before he lets out a soft groan. “Can I keep going?” The stretch burns slightly but I nod. He pushes deeper until he’s bottomed out. “Feel so good.”

“Okay, it’s okay. You can move.” I squeeze his shoulder gently watching his blue eyes that are now full of another emotion. His thrusts start slow, his cock dragging along my walls in a way that has me clinging to his shoulders to ground myself. He continued to thrust into me, finally finding a rhythm that allowed him to reach that one spot no one else ever had. I let out a whiny moan but he’s quick to cover my mouth.

“Is that the spot, baby?” Tears begin to pool onto my lashes as he continues driving his hips at this fast pace he has set. Within seconds my walls are clamping around him as my eyes roll back in pure bliss. “That’s it, such a good girl.” His thrusts turn sloppy and soon he’s coming undone with soft grunts and groans in my ear. When his blue eyes meet mine he smiles softly before leaning down and pressing a chaste kiss to my lips.

“I should probably get back to Sam and Nate.” I say as I trace his hand that entwined with mine.

“Yeah. I’m surprised they didn’t send out a search party.” I rest my chin on his chest and he kisses the tip of my nose. “You sure you won’t want to stay?”

“You could always come with us.” Colby pretends to think for a moment before playfully pushing me away and grabbing his pants.

“How about this?” My eyebrows raise, my interests piqued in whatever in could possibly be ready to say. “You follow through with your plans you got with them.” He kneels next to the bed and raises his hand to brush loose strands of hair out of my face. “Then when you get back, I take you on our first date.” My eyes light up at his counteroffer.

“You mean it?” He nods and watches with a childlike giddiness as I rush to get ready. Just as I’m about to leave his room, I turn on my heels to race over and peck his lips once more before bounding downstairs into the living room where the two boys are sitting. I plop down between them and Sam eyes me suspiciously.

“Everything okay?” I hum in response. “Really? Did he take the apology well?” I hum once more. “Seems like. Hey,” Sam pauses and catches my gaze. “Did you grab my charger?” A shit eating smirk shadows his face and I playfully punch his shoulder.

“How’d you know?” I ask as my face heats up in embarrassment.

“You have a tell.” He shrugs nonchalantly before going to stand up. “Oh, and you also have a big ass hickey on your neck.” I choke on my spit at his words before looking up at him, entirely mortified. He laughs before disappearing to the second floor.

“Damn.” Nate’s voice suddenly fills the silent room. I turn to him with my eyebrows raised. “How the FUCK did you manage to get laid before me?” Like a few seconds prior, I pull back my fist and punch him in the shoulder. He groans in pain and grabs his arm dramatically.

“I got laid in high school you prick! This is different.” He shakes his head and goes back to tuning his guitar. A blush creeps onto my cheeks as I think about how soft Colby’s lips were. How right it felt being in his arms after how long I had waited.

Then again, he had been waiting too.

[crystallizsch]

“It’s Always A Dance With You”

yuusha tala💜 x jamil viper🐍 (oc x canon) word count: 500+ words cw: not angst surprisingly notes: takes place during book 5; i got overzealous and wrote a dance scene (insert question mark)

their first dance in the kitchen was not really any less weirder than being outside ramshackle—

standing on the itchy grass;

next to the gravestones;

with the bugs that crawl at night.

a little more privacy would’ve been nice but they can’t be too picky this late at night.

━━━━━━✦

the prefect looked at the scarabia vice housewarden’s outstretched hand.

🐍: Are you ready?

💜: Sure. But without music?

🐍: Just follow my lead.

💜: But how am I supposed to—

🐍: Will you stop complaining, Prefect? I’d rather not be out here for longer than we need to.

yuusha made a dramatic sigh as she begrudgingly put her gloved hand on top of his.

💜: You’re the boss.

━━━━━━✦

it started with a light step forward, and two light steps back.

and the judgments began.

🐍: No, Prefect. Your other left.

🐍: Why is your back so stiff? Relax. It’s like I’m dancing with a log.

the vice housewarden felt his patience wearing thin.

the prefect knew how to dance. he saw.

well—

she danced with him herself.

the impromptu dance in the kitchen.

sure she wasn’t great, but she knew how to keep in rhythm.

so why now does it feel like the prefect is making it deliberately hard for him?

━━━━━━✦

jamil spoke too soon.

yuusha was a fast learner, of course. he knew this.

or she decided to be compliant out of spite.

either or they were dancing in sync to the tuneless sound of the night, save for the occasional chirp of crickets and the jingle of the bells from jamil’s hair ornaments as they twirled around each other.

there’s always a sudden shift with her that he can’t control.

unfortunately for her, two can play at that game.

the vice housewarden concluded the dance with a sharp dip.

━━━━━━✦

so it was another one of those moments.

did the air become particularly warmer that night or was it just that their bodies were pressed closed together in the dip, their faces were almost touching?

from this angle, the prefect gazed into jamil’s eyes. it sparkled like the night sky illuminating behind him.

that’s a soft, starstruck look yuusha hasn’t seen before.

oh this is dangerous.

at this moment, she forgot the implications of eye contact with the scarabia vice housewarden.

she felt herself letting her guard down, much to her dismay.

unbeknownst to her, jamil fell to that vulnerability first. a vulnerability he didn’t think he’d have again.

yuusha matched his soft gaze which jamil immediately honed in on.

💜: Your eyes are beautiful, Jamil. Have I ever told you that?

━━━━━━✦

the prefect yelped as she landed butt-first onto the ground.

jamil had let her body slip out off his hands, dropping the prefect on purpose.

yuusha attempted to kick his shins in retaliation but to no avail. jamil dodged it effortlessly considering she’s still on the ground.

🐍: We’re done here.

he averted his gaze, trying to hide that he felt warmth rushing through his cheeks.

the hood of his dorm uniform can’t save him right now as he’s not wearing it.

💜: You didn’t have to DROP me! Sorry for complimenting you, I guess.

jamil didn’t acknowledge her complaint and just reached out his hand to her again.

he looks like he’s trying so hard to hide a laugh with that shit-eating smirk of his.

she looked up at him with disbelief but proceeded to accept it anyway.

💜: …..Thanks for the dance, Vice Housewarden.

🐍: You’re welcome, Prefect. Dont ask me ever again.

[cool-and-grizzled]

omg I love those asks games, can we get a 14 and/or 15?? Love your writing :333

🥺🥺 thank youuuuuu <3 i went with both cuz it was perfect

Lance looks at the layout of the training room on his gauntlet, looking at the placement of the training bots throughout the platforms and walls.

"Okay, so there are three teams of four bots, one on the east side, one on the north, and two to the west side. I think we should each take the east and the north side, and then go to the west side and take those out together."

"Yepp," Keith says, and his voice is distracted enough that Lance looks at him. He's fiddling with his bayard, twirling it around as he stares ahead.

Lance narrows his eyes. "And then I thought you could do a cartwheel and roundkick the head off one of the bots, and I think we should dye your hair red."

"Sounds good to me."

Okay, he's clearly not paying attention, so Lance does the most obvious thing to get his attention: he kicks Keith on the shin. It's not even that hard of a kick, but Keith glares at him and kicks back in retaliation.

"What the fuck, Lance?!"

"We're talking strategy here, Mullet!"

"You don't need to kick me for that!"

"But you aren't even listening!" Lance says.

"I don't need to listen! Because it's always the same!" Keith says. "It's always 'you go take out one team, I take out the other, we meet at the last one and take that out together. I stay on high ground and cover you' yada yada yada."

Lance crosses his arms with a pout. "It works every time, though."

"I know, which is why I don't even bother with listening to it anymore and assume we'll just do it the same way," Keith smiles at him. "You've grown a bit predictable with these training strategies, you'll need to switch it up if you don't want the Galra to figure you out too."

"Is that concern I hear?" Lance smirks, leaning in close to Keith.

He can see the way Keith flushes from this close, and the way he huffs is adorable. Keith pushes his face away from him, turning away a little. A flustered Keith is one of his favorite things ever, period.

"Shut up, Lance."

[haleswallows]

DRAGON UPDATE

Fandom: DC x DP Pairing: Dead Tired (Danny/Tim) Rating: Teen High Fantasy AU, Arranged Marriage, and Dragons (oh my!)

Teaser:

Any response Tim may have had died on his tongue as the doors opened. It felt a little like getting caught, like they’d broken an unspoken rule, when Danijel stepped in. But the large man didn’t seem to notice at all the odd mood.

He bee-lined to Jasmine, tugged on a tress of hair and dropped into a slouching recline in front of her feet. Not a word spoken. Jasmine smiled dotingly at the top of his head. As he settled, Jasmine ran her hands over his braided mohawk, began twisting them back into place.

“Like a cat, you are.” She teased, but her tone was flush with affection. Danijel pinched her ankle, earning a light swat to the side of his head in retaliation.

Entirely unbothered by Danijel's intrusion, Jasmine turned back to Tim.

“There isn't much to the wedding ritual, but there are some small traditions we'll ask you to observe. Would you prefer to read them? Or I can do my best to explain. The biography of Lazarus and his wedding are the same traditions we observe today.”

Frankly, Tim would prefer to read it. He wanted to take notes and root out what connections the Infinite Lands had to Damian, to analyze and ask Bruce. But time was not exactly a resource he had an abundance of.

“I hate to demand so much of your time, if you can spare it. May I borrow this book? I should like to familiarize myself with it.”

Jasmine flapped a hand. “Think nothing of it, I need the break from anatomy texts anyway. The book is yours for as long you'd like. Well, it will need to find its way to its owner again at some point.”

“Phantom's favorite,” came Danijels's low rumble. Still, Jasmine's hands worked to twist and tighten the small braids, his eyes half-lidded where he leaned against her shins.

Interesting. Watching the siblings felt like an intrusion, so he focused on Danijel’s words. There was an inkling that there was a man beneath the terror that had been dispensed by his hand. Countless deaths of his countrymen, and now Tim considered him a tentative ally. Had found a delicate trust on the road that extended into the Keep.

It was difficult to parse.

So instead he set his mind to the new information on Phantom. The book of the first high chief’s life was his husband’s favorite. He looked to it for guidance, and so adamantly held its contents in high regard enough for it to be considered a favored text.

Tim would read it with a careful eye.

Jasmine patted her brother’s shoulder, indicating she was done with his braids. Though Danijel did not rise, he simply settled more comfortably. She sighed and jostled him lightly with her feet. “You’re heavy.”

Chuffing, Danijel shifted to lean more against the couch in the space between Tim and the princess.

[rosegoldenatlas]

Careful footings, precise movements, flickering gazes; the steps were to a dance he had been born into, movements he had been forced to learn. Because you can't miss a step in this dance, if you trip- if you loose sight of your partners blade- its over. There isn't a second chance. There isn't a hand held out to help you off of the dirt you fell into.

Just the dirt and your own blood. Forged by your mistakes.

He was never without at least three of his implements. Despite his recklessness, he wasn't keen on dying.

The heavy battleaxe he kept wasn't all that practical to use alone. It was too heavy and slow. But its weight on his belt was what reminded him that he wasn't defenseless, that he had a chance.

The sword he kept on the other hand, was the best weapon one could have when forced into close up combat like the situation he was in. It was muscle memory for him to spin the blade around his hand like one would swing a butterfly knife as he fought. To remember not to press to harshly against another's blade for too long before swinging at their shins or their sides.

His opponent was strong, they weren't afraid to press him whenever their blades clashed and sparked. They were well trained as well, even as he switched which hand he held his blade it, they didn't falter.

It was exhilarating, the thrill of the fight, the way the pain of his scrapes was dulled by pure adrenaline. He knew he was grinning that grin he was told made him look insane. He knew he was getting tired, they had been moving for hours. He knew his mind was drifting, he couldn't focus in the fight when all his mind was stuck on was how much he had missed this feeling. He knew he was relying a tad too much on instinct, on waiting for the small shifts in the air to tell them where they would strike.

But he kept on going, letting himself forget where he was in the room. Not noticing as the other was moving him slightly back at every strike.

In one swift motion, his sword was flung out of his hand and he was being tossed to the ground, the back of his head brushed the wall as he fell. Panic took over.

Before he even knew where he was, before he could register his own thoughts or figure out what had happened, his hand was snatching a small blade tucked into his boot.

He gripped the persons jaw, palm over their chin, and flipped their positions. Slamming the others head to the floor and digging the blade against their jugular.

He was panting, he couldn't see, all he could do was feel the person try to move and he dug his nails into their jaw in retaliation.

The person said something, he can't hear them.

He doesn't care to.

They tried to... They...

He can't remember.

Where is he?

It doesn't matter. He's not dead. He just needs to live.

Suddenly a hand has his wrist and is yanking it off of them. The attacker scurries away from his grasp.

Fuck he is so dead. His axe isn't going to do anything, he's shaking, he'd did op it in seconds. He's dead. He's dead. He's going to die. He's going to-

A hand on his shoulder.

He flinches away and keeps his head down. Maybe they will let hin- if he just does what they say- it will all be okay if he just-

"Look at me." The attacker says, their voice is calmer than he expected, he thought they would sound angry.

He looks up and the castle crashes around him.

It was just Gem. She is bleeding from her throat, badly.

His head flings from side to side to look around the room.

Fight club. He was just in their stupid fight club. He wasn't anywhere else.

He just hurt Gem in a sparring match.

He was about to kill Gem in a sparring match just because he forgot where he was.

Idiot. He was a fucking idiot.

"I.." His breath catches and he realizes he's breathing too fast.

Gem knelt down next to him. "Are you okay?"

He nodded frantically, "Are you? I'm so fucking sorry I didn't mean to hurt you like that I just-" he swallowed "I forgot where I was for a minute."

She huffed, but looked pained as the action strained the large cut on her throat, just to the side of her jugular and artery. She pulled a potion out of her pocket. "Nothing a healing potion won't fix." And slowly drank the thick, sweet smelling drink.

Her wounds stitched themselves back together. He relaxed slightly. He wasn't killing anyone.

"Where did you think you were?" She asked.

He barked out a laugh, it was heavy with a bitterness to it. "Anywhere but here, Gem."

She looked puzzled at that.

He evened his breath. "I'm not exactly the guy people like to keep around. Kind of why I don't do this often.. hanging out with people I mean."

The redhead held out her hand to help him up from the floor. "Well. Start getting used to it. You're stuck with me now, you got that?"

He put away his weapons into the chests. "Yeah. Okay, why not?"