#That's how these guys sound like and it's INFURIATING | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sparkrls · 1 day ago

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High School Sweethearts

MASTERLIST

Summary: in which Harry Styles is the rookie on the football team and he's really lost and Adelaide Heathers is the captain of the volleyball team who's just a little too high-strung

Author's Note: Originally an AU of my Mastermind series, available on Wattpad

Word Count: 13.6k

•••

A FOOTBALL WAS KICKED STRAIGHT INTO ADDIE'S STOMACH, KNOCKING THE WIND OUT OF HER.

Addie wheezed, clutching her gut as she tried to recover air, but her lungs seemed to disagree with her intent. As she struggled to breathe, she reminisced on the peacefulness she'd been experiencing only a few minutes earlier.

It'd been just like every Tuesday afternoon. Finish school, head straight to the changing rooms and then to Addie's one true home: the volleyball court.

And now she felt like her lungs were collapsing.

The one and only thing Addie absolutely despised about training were the boy's football team training right beside them. It wasn't a rare event to have a football kicked into the sand, especially whenever the season was beginning and the rookies had yet to pass that learning curve.

But goddamn it, Addie was going to rip Captain Tomlinson a new one after getting hit straight in the gut. She'd been caught completely off-guard, and as she was busy showing the new girl how to properly spike the ball, Addie didn't have the time to dodge.

When air finally made its way into Addie's lungs, Tomlinson appeared right in time, wincing as he watched the other girls crowd around their Captain. She'd been leaning against her knees for balance, but when she caught sight of the blue-eyed football captain, she pushed herself up to storm over to him.

Louis Tomlinson, the captain of the football team. Fluffy brown hair, electric blue eyes and a bright smile. He was the kind of guy you took home to meet your parents, with a class clown personality, but kind enough.

His fatal flaw, in Addie's opinion, was being absolutely infuriating. With no adults around, his charm slipped into a sarcastic, more snarky personality.

If he didn't accidentally injure several of Addie's team with his stupid footballs, she might actually like him.

However, at the moment, Addie was pissed at him.

Addie raised her finger, pointing it at Tomlinson's face as he backed away hastily, stumbling over his own feet as he raised his hands in defense. She'd shouted at him enough times about balls getting kicked into their court for him to learn his lesson and know she was dangerous when angry.

"You moron, Tomlinson!" Addie seethed, as the back of his knees hit the bench, and he couldn't back away anymore. "How hard is it to kick the ball inside your huge field?"

Louis shook his head in protest, eyes wide with fear. He was a good ten centimeters taller than her, and he was still just as terrified of her as the rest of the school. "'S not my fault! We got a new player, and- he- he struggles a lil bit."

"A little bit?" Addie prompted, raising an indignant eyebrow. She gestured towards the field. "He kicked it forward, how the fuck did the ball go in the complete opposite direction?"

"I don't fucking know!" Tomlinson shrugged, looking just as bewildered as she was. "I told you he struggles."

"Struggles is an understatement."

Addie glanced at Louis, who seemed to be awaiting permission to move. She huffed, taking a few slow steps away from him.

"Fine, you're off the hook this time, Tomlinson."

Louis sighed, clearly relieved.

Addie rolled her eyes. "You're lucky it was me who got hit. Any of my girls go down because of you, and you're dead. Got it?"

Louis nodded eagerly. "A'ight, I'll tell Styles to watch it."

"Maybe kick him off the team if he's that incompetent," Addie muttered under her breath, crossing her arms as she watched some other boys on the football team start to approach. "Get your boys away from my court, Tomlinson, before I kick their ass."

"Noted," Louis turned around, clearing his throat before whistling, a sharp and loud sound that rang in the air. "Oi lads, back to the field. Move your arse, Oli." As the jersey-clad boys began heading back, Louis turned around and called, "I won't kick him off, just so you know."

"That's a stupid ass decision, just so you know," Addie shouted back.

Louis shrugged, in a 'what-can-you-do?' manner. "The lad's got potential."

Addie rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath, "He can shove that potential up his ass."

Addie pronounced 'ass' in a strange way, some unique hybrid between an American and a British accent. After a year or so of studying in England, she'd picked up a few odd habits of pronouncing certain words with an accent. She hadn't made a full transition, so of course her friends picked on her for pronouncing things 'too American' and then 'too British'.

Turning back around, Addie clapped her hands together to catch her girls' attention. "Alright, let's get back to work."

An hour later, Addie treaded back to her car, sand sticking to her thighs where she'd sweat and then later fallen down, ponytail a mess and in the spare change of clothes she carried in her gym bag. Taking a swig of water, she dug her keys out of her pocket.

Glancing around at the parking lot, she couldn't find her car.

Crap.

She always forgot where she parked her car, and so every afternoon, it was the same tedious game of clicking the buttons on her keys until she eventually located her car.

But just as she started clicking the keys, the universe decided it hated Adelaide Heathers. A small drop of rain trickled onto Addie's cheek. And then another. And another.

And within a few moments, the clouds were unleashing torment upon Addie, and she resorted to using her gym bag as a cover while she ran at top speed towards the roof of the basketball court.

When she finally made it to refuge, she collapsed on the ground, sitting and heaving as she watched sheets of rain fall down. The sound echoed through the basketball court. It was built in a strange way, with a roof covering the court and the bleachers, but with one open wall so that the court was semi-open.

Nevertheless, it was good for rainy seasons like these, in case it started raining in the middle of training, the football and the volleyball teams would huddle in the bleachers as they waited for the storm to pass.

Addie's ratty Spiderman shirt was sticking to her skin from the rain that had managed to get her wet. Once she'd caught her breath after the sudden run, she stood and squeezed the water from her shirt.

A shriek ripped from her throat when she turned and found someone else in the court. Her hand flew to her chest, trying to calm her racing heart.

"Oh my god, you scared me. Jesus, don't be so quiet," Addie groaned, cheeks flushed with embarassment as she spoke, "You're like a ghost."

The boy looked sheepish as he scratched the back of his neck. "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you."

His hair was a messy array of curls, sticking to his forehead that was dripping with sweat, his nose looked like a bunny's, and his eyes-

Oh god, his eyes.

Addie could've stared at them forever, analyzed every combination needed to unlock that perfect lively green color.

He had the potential to look like a frat boy, but there was something about the nervousness in his smile, and the kindness in his eyes that let you know he wasn't that way. He seemed to be a good person.

And of course he was exactly Addie's type.

"'S alright," Addie waved him off, her mind already racing on all the ways she could get this pretty boy's number, "Who are you?- I mean, I know every single person on the sports team, but I can't recognize you."

He smiled with only one side of his mouth, and the curve of his dimple gleamed like a star. "I'm new. Harry Styles." He offered his hand.

Addie shook it. "Nice to meet you. I'm Adelaide Heathers. Captain of the volleyball team. " Realization then dawned on her. "Shit, you're Styles. You're the guy who hit me in the stomach with that ball!"

The guy with the shittiest kick in the world, Addie thought, but she wasn't nearly rude enough to say it out loud. Or at least to his face.

Harry grimaced. "I'm really sorry about that, by the way."

She liked the slow drawl of his voice. It reeled her in and she couldn't escape even if she wanted to.

And she really didn't want to.

"So you really decided to torment me twice in one day, huh? First a ball in the gut and then scaring the shit out of me," Addie joked, but it seemed Harry took it too seriously.

Harry rushed to say, "I swear I didn't do it on purpose- I mean, you may count the second one on purpose as I didn't announce my presence- but I didn't mean to scare you, I'm really a nice guy- oh shit, I swear I'm not one of those assholes who says they're a nice guy despite obviously not being a nice guy-"

Addie cut him off, "Alright, alright, calm down, Styles." She placed a firm hand on his bicep. "You're alright, I was just kidding around."

Harry sighed in relief. "Okay. That's good."

Addie smiled, endeared by his antics. "So, tell me, Styles-"

"You can call me Harry, by the way," Harry jumped in, cutting her off. She gave him a look. "Just- just so you know."

"Well, Styles, I quite like your last name," Addie smirked, noticing a small smile begin to appear on his lips. She had to admit, it gave her a little power rush to know she flustered him. "Anyways, as I was saying, how come you're here so late?"

Harry said, "Uh, I was waiting for the bus to arrive but it was really late. And then it started to rain. So..."

Addie nodded, humming in approval. She began to take slow, deliberate steps towards the bleachers. She sat down, leaning her elbows against the row behind her and gazing up at the ceiling. Harry followed suit, crossing his arms over his torso.

"What bus do you take?"

"The thirteen."

Addie frowned. "The thirteen made its last stop an hour ago. It passes by at five and that's the last one of the day."

"But-" Harry was aghast. "But training ends at five thirty."

"Yeah."

"Fuck."

Feeling sympathy for the poor boy who looked like a kicked puppy with his eyebrows all scrunched up in worry, Addie asked him, "Where do you live? I'm sure there's another bus that passes by there, or maybe the subway."

"You mean the tube?" Harry prompted, the corner of his lips pulled up into a teasing smile.

Addie scoffed, playfully slapping his arm. "Shut up, you're the only country that calls it that."

"Okay," Harry said, unconvincingly. He was clearly teasing her, and it made her uncomfortable. She was supposed to be the one in control.

Addie took the reins of the conversation, "Alright, so where do you live?"

Harry shook his head. "The thirteen is the only bus that passes near my house, and the tube drops me off too far off. My house is too close for the tube but too far to walk."

"The bus is your only shot, damn," Addie cursed, "Well, I've got a car, and I can give you a ride home if you want."

"Wait, really?" Harry sat up. "You sure?"

"Yeah, why not?" Addie shrugged. "Just let the rain ease up and we can go."

"You're an angel, Heathers. A lifesaver."

Addie bit her lip to suppress her grin. "It's no big deal."

The cutest guy ever just called me an angel, Addie thought, and she knew she must be blushing.

When the rain finally died down, they ran to Addie's car, getting a little lost along the way, but managing to make it semi-dry.

Laughing at their idiocies, Addie turned the car on and pulled out of the school parking lot. Harry made small talk, asking her about her American accent.

"I'm actually from Mexico," Addie said with a small chuckle. Harry raised his eyebrows, and she explained, "Since the US is right there beside Mexico, I learned to speak English with an American accent. Then, a year ago, my mom and I moved here to London, and I started at this school."

After her parents' divorce, everything had crumbled. She'd been holding on by a thread, and that thread was this school, this city and these people. A fresh start where no one knew her as the weird kid, or the geek, or that girl in the pictures in seventh grade.

Sure, she was still top of her class, and people were terrified to be around her because of her reputation for a sharp tongue and a cold stare. But she had friends who could see beyond that mask she wore, she had found volleyball, and she found her place in this world.

Thing were okay here.

Maybe not at home, but at her school. At work, and here in the car with this new kid.

"What about you? You new?"

Harry nodded, drumming his fingers against the car handle. "Yeah, transferred this year, and somehow got into the football team?" He turned to look at her. "Quick question, just how low are the standards? I mean, I got in, so I'm guessing it's less a bar and more like a pit in the ground?"

Addie laughed, grinning despite her promise to keep her cool around him. But there was something about his warmth that made her drop her defenses. "Their standards are pretty high. Tomlinson's a ruthless captain, so watch out for him. But he's got trust in you, says you got potential." She stopped at the red light and turned to look him in the eyes. "Tomlinson's a pain in my ass, but he's also got a good eye for players. If he lets you on his team, it's for good reason."

The light turned green, and Addie started driving again.

"Thanks."

"Just stating the facts. Maybe learn to kick the ball the right way, though."

"Aye, aye, cap'n." Harry saluted her, making her crack up.

Addie faked indignation, "Don't distract me, I'm driving!"

Harry gasped, following along with her joke. "I'm sorry. I'll stop being so hilarious. Oh wait, I'm always hilarious."

"You're an idiot, that's what you are."

Harry smiled.

Mark her words, someday, Harry Styles would be Adelaide Heathers' idiot.

---

"Does it really not bother your parents that you drive me home every day?" Harry commented after three weeks straight of Addie giving him a ride. "I mean, you must get home late, right?"

Every day after training, Addie would pick up the things they'd used, get changed, and make her way to the car. She'd find Harry walking on the street, and honked her horn until he finally gave up and let her drive him home.

After a week, he started helping her pick up after volleyball practice, saying it was the least he could do for all the trouble he put her through. She began letting him. It was just picking up a couple of cones and packing up the net.

Now, she'd gotten used to it, to having him help her while he chattered on about his day. If it were anyone else, she would've stayed in comfortable silence, but he always seemed to pull a conversation out of her. And every time he talked about his day, she listened intently, until he asked a question that forced her to open up a bit.

After picking up, they'd get changed in their separate locker rooms. Somehow, he always took half the time she did and would wait outside the door for her. Always had his curls damp because he'd squeeze water into them to make them curl again after messing them up during practice. And with that puppy-like grin on his lips.

Addie shrugged. "Nah, it's just my mom and me. Dad and sister are back in Mexico, and since my mom works most of the time, she doesn't really notice I'm gone." She chuckled to herself. "Guess being a workaholic just runs in the family."

It wasn't uncommon for parents to be absent because of long work hours. It wasn't like Addie's mom couldn't afford to cut back her hours. Even if her mom only worked part-time, with her salary, they could have a great life.

But, like Addie said, being a workaholic was in their genes. Addie supposed that was the reason she was so focused on school and volleyball and work. She was addicted to being busy. To praise for her achievements and her work ethic. That was how her entire family was wired. That was how she'd been raised.

Harry's eyebrows knitted together in that way they did when he was deep in thought. "Well, if your mom won't mind, why don't you stay tonight for dinner?"

Addie's face slackened in shock. She turned her entire head to look at Harry before remembering she was supposed to be driving. She adjusted her hands on the steering wheel and cleared her throat. "Um... I mean, are you sure? You don't have to.”

Addie didn't want his pity or his fake niceties. She wanted him to truly want her. Maybe want her for more than just a casual dinner with his family. More than just that one friend who drove him home every afternoon.

Harry smiled, placing his hand over Addie's hand. She tightened her clutch on the driving stick as she felt the unfamiliar feeling of someone else's skin on hers. It only took a few moments for her to relax under the comforting warmth of his hand. "I want you there."

Pulling his hand back, Harry sat back, looking straight ahead.

Meanwhile, a million thoughts were whirring through Addie's head as she tried to understand what his hand on hers in this enclosed space meant. What did it mean?

Was Harry feeling the butterflies swarming his stomach the way she was? Or was she alone in her rose-flushed cheeks and thoughts of jumping and falling for someone who might not catch her?

Addie stayed at Harry's for dinner that night. She met his sister, who was studying at a college on the other side of the city, and his parents who were the sweetest people she'd ever met. It was no wonder Harry had turned out so amazing when he'd grown up in this family.

There were no sharp comments, no subtle comments to dig under skin, just teasing banter and sibling loving each other. Harry looked at his sister with such admiration, Addie felt a small pang of jealousy. His parents listened intently as he talked passionately about his day at school.

And when they turned to get to know Addie better, their words were kind and understanding. It started with the simple questions about her parents and their work. And then they asked, "So, why do you like our Harry?"

"Is it a pity thing?" Gemma joked, hiding her smile behind a roll of bread. That was another thing Addie hadn't experienced in years. Carbs at a meal.

When Addie started getting into sports, her mom stopped buying bread, saying "You need to stay in shape. Imagine being captain of the volleyball team and being overweight" (She hadn't even been promoted to captain yet, but her mom assured her that she would get the position one way or another).

Addie was hesitant to grab bread, but it'd been so long and it tasted so good slathered in butter and dipped in the creamy tomato soup.

Snickering, Addie nudged Harry with her shoulder. "I guess he's decent. He did throw a ball at my stomach the first time we met."

Harry's Mom, Anne made a sound of shock. "Harry, you did what!?"

His eyes widened with alarm. "It was an accident! I swear-!"

"Harry, I swear to god, you make such bad first impressions," Anne chided him, shaking her head in bewilderment. "Did you apologize?"

"Yes, Mom."

When dinner was over, they helped clean up and then Harry took her to his room, showing her around his house.

Harry showed her his small collection of CD's, blushing when she teased him for the obscene amount of Fleetwood Mac and Stevie Nicks.

"I have Rumors on vinyl," Addie said as she scanned the CD, noting the small crack at the edge of the plastic case.

Harry's eyes widened. "Seriously?"

"Yeah. It was a gift from my dad." The last gift he gave her before she left for London. They'd sat down in the living room, next to the dozen of packed boxes, put the vinyl on and skipped to 'The Chain'. He'd held her hand and squeezed it, promising he would visit as soon as he could.

It'd been eighteen months and he hadn't visited even once. Calls were rare and short. Texts were a little more frequent, but still scarce.

Addie looked up, setting the CD down back onto its shelf, and wandering around the rest of the room, hands in her pockets. "You should come over sometime. I'll play it."

Harry's eyes lit up with excitement. "Yeah!" He exclaimed. And then he seemed to realize how eager he sounded, and cleared his throat, saying in a more laidback tone, "Yeah. I guess that'd be cool."

Pretending to look at the poster above his bed, Addie tried to hide her stupidly huge grin.

Harry had stars, those glow in the dark stars that every kid wanted in their room. The only lighting in the room was his desk light, so she could see a bit of the glow in the stars. They were randomly placed on the ceiling.

Even if they were real stars, she doubted any of them would shine as bright as Harry’s eyes as he met her gaze. His cheeks flushed a light pink, lips curved in a nervous smile.

Addie’s breath caught in her throat. She could reach out and graze the softness of his lips or the curve of his nose. He looked so soft in the absolute best way possible. Soft like the petal of a rose. Soft like the first stream of sunlight through the window.

The spell of the moment was broken by the door being shoved open. It made a loud sound as it hit the wall.

Both Harry and Addie jumped, startled. Standing in the doorway was Harry's dad, Robin. "Keep the door open at all times, Haz." He glanced between the two teenagers, who looked equally embarrassed despite standing quite far apart. And only being friends. "Have fun."

Once Robin was gone, Harry groaned and dropped his face into his hands. "I'm sorry. My parents are embarrassing."

Shaking her head, Addie laughed. "No, I think your parents are really cool." She smiled softly, sitting down on the gray blanket of Harry's bed. He sat down beside her. "They really care about you. You're lucky to have parents like them."

Harry's gaze softened. "They are pretty great."

Addie would kill to have parents like Harry's. Caring and nurturing, who actually gave a shit about their kids.

Clearing her throat, Addie stood up. "This was great, but I should get back soon. School night and everything."

A pang of disappointment shot through her chest as she remembered she had to go. There was a very stupid part of her that really wanted to stay with Harry forever. A very stupid and foolish part of her. The same part that felt butterflies each time her eyes met his and drove him home every afternoon just to get a few minutes with him.

Addie waved goodbye to Harry's parents, thanking them for dinner as she walked past their room. Harry walked her to her car, where he then hugged her and hesitated before placing a swift kiss to her cheek.

They both tried to play it cool, even though the two were flushed tomato red, and Addie stumbled as she got into her car.

The entire drive home, her cheek tingled where she'd been kissed. And if her fingers wandered over the lingering warmth, and her mind ran with thoughts of where this could lead, well... that was just for her to know.

---

Addie lost the match.

The first match of the season, and they'd been beaten by a landslide. It was absolutely pathetic how they'd barely gotten any scores in. The match was so clearly dominated by the opposing team, it was actually sad. But most of all, it made her realize just how shitty of a captain she was.

She wasn't made for leadership. All she had was her own strength, but she didn't have enough to keep everyone else moving.

When they got to their locker rooms, it was dead silent as they took turns in the showers. No one wanted to speak, afraid it would only make the moment real.

But it was when Lexi started sniffling, and Alice turned to hug her that Addie couldn't take the silence anymore.

"It's okay," Alice murmured to Lexi.

Lexi shook her head. "I'm the one who didn't hit that final ball. It's my fault."

"Lexi," Addie spoke. Everyone turned to look at her. All eyes were on her. This could make or break the moment. "We're a team, alright? One of us lose, all of us lose. And it's okay to fail sometimes, that just means we gotta work harder." She got to her feet, sitting beside Lexi and pulling her into her side. The younger girl clung to Addie, searching for some comfort. "We lost a match, but it's the first one of the season, we're still learning how to work together and that's okay. Now we know what we need to work on, and we'll do better next time."

"I'm sorry," Lexi sniffled. "I tried my best, I swear."

Addie's heart ached as she watched the girl cry. "It's okay. I know."

By the time the locker room emptied, Addie was the only one left. She always made sure to be the last one to leave, just to make sure the rest of her team were okay.

She cried in the shower, totally alone in her sorrows as she only had herself to blame. Maybe the whole team had lost, but she was the leader. Addie was the one who was supposed to steer them to victory, not to this.

This had been Addie's shot to prove herself, and she'd thrown it in the trash and set it on fire.

Addie locked up the locker room, and made her way to the parking lot, digging through her bag for the keys.

She found someone leaning on the hood of her car. Curly hair swept back as he leaned his head back, closing his eyes, breathing in the fall air.

Addie clicked the car keys, and the car made a sound, startling Harry. He jumped, stumbling forward and barely catching himself before he fell face-first onto the asphalt.

She snickered at his reaction, pushing past him to place her gym bag in the backseat of her car. "Hey, Styles."

Harry leaned forward, giving her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. He'd made it a tradition to always greet her that way. "Hi, Heathers."

Addie tried not to blush and failed spectacularly. "You looking for a ride?"

"You offering one?"

Addie shrugged, gesturing with her head. "Door's open." Harry got into the car eagerly, already buckling his seatbelt by the time she was barely sitting down.

Addie buckled her seatbelt and placed the keys in the engine-

"How'd the match go?"

Something inside of Addie snapped, and for the second time that day, tears began to spill down her cheeks. She sniffled, trying to wipe the tears away before he could notice, but it was too late.

Harry leaned forward, grasping her face with his hand, gently turning her towards him. "Love, are you okay?"

Addie squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she would stop crying. Harry probably thought she was embarrassing. She couldn't keep it together for even a few minutes. That was certainly embarrassing. All he wanted was a ride home, he certainly didn't need to see her tears.

"Ads? You can talk to me," Harry said, his voice ever so gentle, as if she were so fragile he could break her with just a few words. "Love?"

Addie opened her eyes, allowing him to see the tears swimming, the hurt hidden behind her amber eyes. "We lost. I fucked it up. I fucked it all up."

A strangled sob escaped her throat despite her best attempt to choke it back. Harry shushed her, leaning forward, the brake digging into his gut, but he endured the pain just so he could hug her.

And despite everything that had been ingrained in Addie's mind for so long- that crying was showing weakness, and weakness meant shame, and shame was the worst crime of all-

Addie took his comfort. She clung to it like a lifeline, because she was drowning and Harry was her lifejacket.

This was all she had ever needed all along.

Because even now, when she felt so incredibly low and pathetic, she didn't feel alone. Addie didn't feel alone, instead she felt a hope creeping into her life the way a candlelight slowly lights in a dark room.

"You didn't fuck up," Harry murmured into her ear, holding her tighter. Addie closed her eyes, bathing in the warmth of his touch. "You didn't, okay? You're amazing, and smart and so dedicated and maybe you lost this time- but you're goddamn Adelaide Heathers, and when you fall down, you get back up."

Addie weakly asked, "And if I can't get back up?"

"You will." There was no doubt in Harry's voice as he spoke. "Maybe you'll struggle a little, but you'll get back up. You always do. And you know that I'm always there to help you up."

"I don't feel like getting back up anymore," Addie protested, pulling away from Harry's hug with regret. She was bitter as she cried, "I keep getting kicked down and getting back up and I'm so sick and tired of it, and I just-" Her breath was shaky as she inhaled -"I just want to give up already."

Harry placed a gentle hand on her arm, a soft reassurance that he was there. "You can stay down a little while, but you'll get back up again. That's just how you're wired."

"I don't know if that's true anymore."

"Well, I know it's true," Harry defended, not aggressive but more insistent as he said, "Because I know you. And you trust me, right? So you can trust me when I say that you'll get back up. And even if you don't, then I'll be there anyways."

Addie sniffled, quickly wiping her tears away. "You're a really great person, Haz. Have I told you I'm really glad I have you in my life?"

Harry shook his head with a light chuckle. "No, but it's good to know."

"I mean it," Addie insisted, her voice still thick with tears. "I don't know where I'd be without you. Thanks for kicking that ball into my stomach."

Harry threw his head back laughing. The sound rang through the air like the chiming of bells, making Addie feel like she was on a cloud knowing she'd made Harry laugh. She had made him happy, even if only for a few seconds.

Once Harry's laughter had settled down, he turned his head to look at her. Something clouded his eyes, like a lavender haze falling over them.

His voice dropped an octave as he said, "I really like you, Adelaide Heathers."

"You're not half-bad yourself, Harry Styles," she whispered back, eyes flickering down to his lips.

She wasn't sure if it was her imagination or if Harry was leaning forward just a few inches, about to meet her halfway. And there was a yearning to crash her lips against his and take what she'd wanted all this time.

And then her phone rang.

Their bubble burst just like that, and Addie could recognize the ringtone. She answered, "Yeah?"

"Adelaide," her mom warned her, "You greet people with 'hello' not 'yeah'."

"Sorry, Mom," Addie said, pinching the bridge of her nose. "What's up?"

"Why aren't you home yet?"

"I told you I was having dinner at Harry's tonight," Addie said, frowning in confusion. She looked over at Harry, who was looking at her for an explanation. She simply shrugged, as confused as he was.

Mom scoffed. "I didn't say you could go."

"Yeah, you did, Mom," Addie reminded her, "You told me yesterday morning it was fine. I told you I had my match and then after, I was heading to Harry's for dinner."

"You had a match today?"

"Yeah, I did."

"Don't use that tone with me," Mom snapped at her. Yeah, well, you missed my match, so get off your high horse, bitch, Addie thought bitterly. "Did you win?"

"No, we didn't."

"I'm disappointed in you, Addie. I thought you would do better."

Addie was ready to snap. Not only did her mother miss her match, but she had the audacity to then be disappointed in Addie?

Then again, her mom's words hit her like a punch in the gut. Even her mom thought she'd win. How many people had she let down today?

"Look, I'm headed to Harry's, I'll be back before curfew."

"I want you home at nine."

"Mom, it's seven-"

"Nine."

"Fine."

Addie hung up the phone and turned it on silent, knowing her mom would try and call her back just to tell her off. "Can I stay until midnight tonight?"

"I thought your curfew was eleven," Harry said, trying to piece together Addie's interaction with her mother.

"It is."

Harry waited for an explanation until he realized none was coming and nodded. "Stay however long you want to."

Addie got home at one am, by which time her mom was passed out on the couch, a glass of sugar-free lemonade beside her. She walked past her and headed to her room.

And that night, she dreamt of sitting in a car and no stupid phones interrupting a kiss with Harry. She dreamt of holding his hand and kissing him like he belonged to her.

The next morning, Addie was numb to her mom's yelling and didn't even give a shit when she was grounded. Addie realized she didn't really give much of a shit when it came to her mom. Not anymore.

She was fed up.

---

Addie whistled, "Horan! Come over here, you idiot!"

Niall whipped his head around, blue eyes sparkling with glee as he caught sight of the younger girl. "Heathers!" He ran towards her, hugging her tightly as she returned the embrace with matching eagerness. "How have you been, love?"

"I've been good, babe," Addie answered with ease, used to the friendly flirting with Niall. They pulled back from the hug. "What about you? You're the one who disappeared for two months, you dick." She punched him in the arm.

"Okay, first off, ouch. Second, it was actually really good?" Niall answered, slinging his arm around her shoulder and leading her towards the bench on the edge of the field. "I was worried 'cause 's been a while since I've visited my fam, right? But it was nice."

He was wearing his football uniform, and the scratchy fabric of the jersey infuriated Addie, but after last year of near-constant physical contact with Niall, she'd gotten used to it for the most part.

They ended up sitting down on the bench, chatting while Addie slung her legs over Niall's, always maintaining some kind of physical contact. She needed it after he'd gone away for two months to Ireland to be with his family.

Louis arrived fifteen minutes later, looking slightly disgruntled with his hair a mess and the front of his jersey dripping wet and spreading to his shorts. Addie took him in, raising an eyebrow at the water that didn't seem to have spread to the back.

"Niall, aren't you supposed to be warming up?" Louis grumbled, running a hand through his hair as he tried to fix the disheveled mess. "And Heathers, don't you have a training to lead?"

"Don't you know how to drink water?" Addie retorted, looking him up and down.

Louis scoffed. "It was your stupid boyfriend that did this to me. Got distracted looking at this-" He gestured towards their intertwined legs -"And spilled a whole fucking shit bottle of water on me. Grabbed my arm in a fucking vice too. Pretty sure I'mma get bruises from the fucking thing."

Louis' swearing filter was removed whenever he was faced with the smallest of annoyances.

"Boyfriend?" Niall sat up, staring at Addie. "Fifteen minutes talking shit and you didn't mention a boyfriend?" He then turned to look at Louis. "Our little Heather has grown up and gotten a boyfriend at long last?"

Addie flicked Niall in his forehead, where the dark roots were beginning to grow below the bleach blond. "Asshole. Both of you. No, I don't have a boyfriend. Louis' just being a little shit."

Both of the boys looked unconvinced. Louis rolled his eyes. "Sure, he's not your boyfriend. You just look at each other with lovey-dovey eyes, and you drive him home after training every day, and he walks to the other side of the school just to be with you for ten minutes during break. He's not your boyfriend."

Addie groaned. "Goddamn it Tomlinson, he's not my boyfriend and he's not interested in me!" Louis and Addie had had this conversation a million times before. It was infuriating that he kept insisting that Harry was interested in her. This crush was not a mutual thing.

"Have you ever hung out with him outside of school?" Niall asked.

Addie made a sound. "I mean... not really. I just stay for dinner a couple times a week."

"What?" Louis shrieked, this being new information for him. "Why didn't you tell me that part?"

"'S not important."

"You've known each other for two months and you're already having dinner with his family?"

"It's not like that!"

Addie knew it was because Anne knew more about her family situation than Harry. She was always the one who insisted that Addie stay over for dinner and talked to her and cared for her.

In the last five weeks or so, Anne had done more parenting towards Addie than her own mother had done in the last two years.

"You know damn well that boy is head over heels for you," Louis said, making a tsk sound with his tongue. "Mark my words, Adelaide Heathers and Harry Styles are going to date someday."

Driving Harry home that afternoon was a quiet ordeal. They had their routine down to a T, and it seemed neither of them were in a particularly talkative mood.

Addie wasn't sure what was going on with Harry, but she was dealing with the fact that she had a huge crush on him and couldn't get him out of her head despite knowing he wasn't interested either. Plus her grades had been slipping lately and her average had dropped from a perfect 10 to a pretty good 9, but it was sure to result in another fight with her mom. And training had been a disaster, everyone was off their game and tournaments started in two weeks.

Everything that could go wrong had gone wrong that day. Addie didn't want to take it out on Harry, and she didn't need him to know she was struggling and weak. So she stayed quiet, to avoid questions.

But then five minutes passed and Harry asked, "Who was that guy you were with earlier?"

Addie frowned. "Who? The blond guy?"

"Yeah," Harry muttered. Something about his demeanor was off. He was too closed off, filled with unnecessary tension. "Is he your boyfriend?"

Addie laughed. "No, he's not my boyfriend. His name is Niall, and he's a really good friend of mine." She snickered to herself. "I spent all of last year battling rumors that he and I were dating, but we're just friends."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." Addie cleared her throat. "Niall's amazing. And we've always had this dynamic of flirting with each other, but he's just a friend. He... he was the first person to ever talk to me when I got here. Without him, I probably never would've talked to anyone. Today was the first time I saw him since summer break, so I was happy to see him."

"He's on the football team," Harry prompted. He was almost reluctant as he admitted, "Seems like a nice guy."

"He is. He really is," Addie answered immediately, quick to praise her friend. "Last year, he was basically my best friend, so I ended up hanging out with the football team a lot. Now that he's back, I'm willing to bet he's going to start dragging me along to a lot of things, so get ready for me to annoy you a lot more."

A weak smile began to appear on Harry's lips. "You could never annoy me."

"Yeah well, you'll get sick of me eventually. Tomlinson hated me the first couple of months, but he was outvoted by everyone else who wanted me to stick around. He eventually tolerated me," Addie chuckled. "He's not a close friend, but we're on good terms now. I think he just hated that no one liked his girlfriend Eleanor but everyone liked me."

"I thought you said you weren't Niall's girlfriend," Harry snapped, his voice brisk and cold.

Addie felt a small pang of annoyance. She was hanging on by a thread and her patience was running thin. "Yeah. I'm not."

"So why would you compare yourself to Louis' girlfriend?"

"Because everyone else did. I wasn't Niall's girlfriend, but I was basically his date." Addie clenched the steering wheel, reminding herself Harry wasn't the one annoying her. She couldn't take her anger out on an innocent.

Harry scowled. "Yeah, right."

"The fuck's your problem, man?" Addie snapped at him, finally having enough. "You're pissed I have a best friend? That's pretty fucking jealous of you, don't you think?"

"No, I just think it's ridiculous how you lead me on for two months and then your boyfriend shows up," Harry seethed, crossing his arms and looking out the window. "Real fucking nice that feels."

"He's not my boyfriend!" Addie exclaimed.

She tried to laugh it off, but it had been so annoying to try and date guys only to have them warded off by her best friend. If her boyfriend felt uncomfortable about her closeness with Niall, she'd set boundaries. But no one wanted fucking communication.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I'm sure."

Addie growled in frustration, feeling a bubbling rage underneath her skin, and she needed to get it out. So she pulled into Harry's driveway and snapped at him, "Get the fuck out, you jackass!"

"Gladly, you prick," Harry retorted, grabbing his gym bag and slamming the door.

"Don't slam my fucking door!" Addie shouted, rolling the window down. She was glad Harry's parents wouldn't be home to hear this.

Harry whirled around, voice dripping with venom. "You didn't even pay for the fucking car. Your mommy gave it to you to make up for the fact that she doesn't give two shits about you!"

Ouch.

That one dug deep into her heart.

Because it was true.

"It's better than being an insane jealous asshole like you, who's always so obsessed with me!" Addie yelled. "I bet Tomlinson only put you on the team because he felt sorry for how fucking pathetic you are."

Addie knew that would strike a nerve. Deep down, Harry was an insecure person who was always worried about his worth. And there was a part of Harry that truly thought he didn't deserve his place on the team.

"Yeah? Well, everyone thinks you're a cold, narcissistic bitch who doesn't give a shit about her friends and just nitpicks and criticizes everything she can!" Harry yelled, knowing every word would dig deep into her intrinsic insecurities the same way she had.

"Well, this narcissistic bitch is telling you to get a new fucking ride!" Addie shouted, noticing Harry's blue plastic bottle still in the passenger seat and throwing it through the window, hitting him in the arm.

Addie pulled out of the driveway, vision swimming with tears. She managed to stay in one piece until she got home and hid in her bedroom, collapsing into tears.

Addie cried herself to sleep that night.

---

"Hi, Mrs. Horan," Addie smiled as she opened the door. She tugged her sleeves down, fiddling with them in her palms.

Mrs. Horan smiled back at Addie. "Hi, Addie, honey. Niall's down in the basement with the other boys."

"Thank you," Addie made her way through the hallway and down the stairs of the basement. There was one step near the bottom that was creaky and felt like it might break at any moment, so she usually just skipped the last few steps and jumped down onto the floor.

The sound of her landing alarmed the other boys to her presence. Niall leaned over the back of the couch. "Babe, you're here!"

"Honey, I'm home!" Addie said in a sing-song voice as she approached Niall, hugged him, and gave him a kiss on the cheek. She then threw herself onto the armchair beside him, kicking her legs over the armrest as she watched the other boys playing FIFA. "God, I forgot how much you suck at FIFA, Tomlinson."

"Shut up," Louis muttered under his breath, sitting on the edge of the couch as he lost miserably to Liam.

"Oof, that's gotta be embarassing," Addie winced in mockery as Louis lost. He looked over to her and gave her a dirty look. In turn, she smiled innocently. And then noticed the raven-haired boy beside Louis. "Hey, Zayn."

Zayn smiled. He had this really warm and kind smile that made you feel like you were at home. "Addie."

Zayn played defense on the football team, while Niall was midfielder and Louis was forward. And then there was the final one of the bunch, Liam, who was the goalkeeper.

Against her will, Addie had learned most of football terminology last year because she'd hung out with these four boys a lot. She'd gone to every match she could, and would never admit it, but actually got invested in the game.

"Hi, Payne," Addie smiled at him. He waved back as he passed the control to Zayn.

Niall caught Addie's attention with the wave of the control. "You want in?"

"Nah, I'm shit at FIFA, you know that," Addie shook her head. "I'll watch." She'd always sucked at video games for the most part, but whenever they played Street Fighter or Mario Kart, she kicked everyone's ass. So, she usually stuck to just watching them play and insulting them as if she wasn't ten times worse than them.

Then, when Louis and Zayn took a smoke break, going upstairs to Niall's room to stick their heads out the windows like dogs so Niall's parents didn't catch them, Addie transferred to the couch, sitting down next to Liam for a change.

Once Liam won his round, he passed the control to Addie, giving her advice and tips on how to be better. She didn't win the round, but it was the closest she'd gotten to being half-decent.

"Not half-bad," Liam mused, giving her a reassuring smile. "You've got potential, Heathers."

"And that potential will remain unfulfilled," Addie insisted, passing Liam the control.

Liam twisted his body around, turning to look at her properly. "Hey, tell me something."

"Something."

Liam nudged her with his shoulder. "What happened between you and Louis? You two used to be like this," he twisted two fingers together, "And now you barely even talk."

Addie sighed, sitting back and crossing her arms. She looked to Niall for help, who shrugged and gave her a look that told her she needed to tell Liam.

"Look, during summer break, there was this one beach trip we took. It was Louis with Eleanor and me with Niall," Addie began to explain. "Eleanor mentioned she wanted a spot on the team. She thought I could help her out, and she thought that just because we were friends, I would give her the spot. I told her we should play a match and then we'll see."

Addie recounted the rest of the afternoon. They'd played the game, and at the end, Addie had been disappointed in Eleanor. She'd refused to give her the spot. Eleanor was furious. She snapped at Addie, calling her an incompetent captain and making unsupported claims that she was doing this just to lord her power over Eleanor.

"My cat plays better than you do," Addie had snapped at Eleanor. Granted, the comment had been unnecessary, but Eleanor was being a dick about the whole situation.

It was then that Louis and Niall appeared, and they both had stepped in to calm the girls down.

Addie had made the offer to give Eleanor personal training once a week, and said, "You can take volleyball lessons all you want this year, but you're not making the team. Get some actual practice in and then we'll talk. But right now, you're incompetent and your play is lousy."

Louis had defended Eleanor. Addie was pissed at both of them, and Niall was stuck in the middle as a mediator.

"Louis took Eleanor's side, said I was out of line with my comments," Addie huffed to Liam. "But she assumed I would give her the spot just because we were friends when she's a shit player! I let her down nicely, told her to work on her game and maybe she'd make the team next year. But then she called me incompetent and a dick."

"She was way out of line," Liam agreed. "If she doesn't make the team, it's because there's a better player who deserved the spot more, and just because you're friends, doesn't entitle her to that spot."

"Exactly!" Addie exclaimed, getting frustrated once again with the situation. "And even now that they've broken up, Louis refuses to apologize. I know I have nothing to apologize for. I stood my ground and I spoke the truth and Eleanor was the one who was out of line."

The door to the basement opened and the thuds of footsteps along the stairs rang through the room. Addie pursed her lips, sitting back on the couch as Liam and Niall began another round.

Louis sat down on the arm of the couch, a few inches from brushing shoulders with Addie. "What'd I miss, lads?"

Addie sat up. "I'm going to get some water."

Liam glanced at her furtively, and then at Louis. Addie shook her head, silently asking him to keep it under wraps.

Addie headed upstairs, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge and then going back down.

"-Styles has been off his game lately," Louis said, ranting to Liam whose eyes were stuck to the screen. "He's got potential and he was doing good, but if he keeps going like this, I'm worried I'll have to bench him."

Addie had gone stiff at the mention of Harry's name, reminded of the last two weeks of dead silence and cold shoulders in the hallways of school. Every car ride home from training seemed too short, too silent without the comforting chatter of Harry's slow drawl.

Instead of home cooked dinners with Harry's family, she had to settle for microwaving week-old leftovers alone in her room.

Addie couldn't help it. She needed to know about Harry and most of all, she felt concern for him. Football had become so important for him. He loved it.

"You're going to make Styles a reserve?" Addie prompted, taking a swig of water as she sat down.

Louis made a face and nodded. "I don't wanna. I know he can do it, but he's just- I dunno."

Addie frowned. "I thought things were going well."

"Yeah, but he hasn't been pulling his weight lately. And our first game is next week, I can't have any dead weight. Nothing against him, he's just not been the best player lately."

"I get it," Addie prompted, "No matter the personal relationship you have with a person, you gotta think about the team. I'm captain, I know how this goes." She gave Louis a look. "But I guess it only really counts when it's your team we're talking 'bout, right?"

Louis finally processed what Addie was implying, and his expression switched immediately. "Jesus, Heathers, seriously? Get over yourself."

He stood up, taking a seat on the opposite side of the couch.

That was always the problem with Addie and Louis. Both of them had huge prides and were equally stubborn.

But goddamn it, Addie was sick and tired of all of her friends being stubborn assholes. First Harry, and now Louis?

"Lou," Liam warned, a sharp edge to his voice. He looked like an adorable puppy most of the time, but when it came to his friends, he would do anything to protect him. Which sometimes meant putting on an intimidating facade.

Louis glanced at Liam. "What?"

Liam gave him a look, but Louis simply rolled his eyes.

Niall then stepped in, deciding to change the subject. Somehow he was always the peace negotiator in Addie's life. She should find a way to thank him. "So, Addie, speaking of Harry, have you talked to him?"

"Talked to him?" Zayn echoed, looking confused at what Niall said.

"After their fight," Niall stated, seemingly confused that they didn't know what he was saying.

Addie immediately snapped, "Niall." She didn't need her dirty laundry aired out for everyone to see.

He seemed to realize he was the only one who knew about Addie and Harry's fight. "Oh. Oops?"

Sighing, Addie hid her face in her hands. These boys were the most troublesome people she knew, and she just knew they were going to stick their nose in her business.

Liam asked, "You and Harry had a fight?"

"When?" Zayn asked.

"Who started it?" Liam prompted.

"Okay, stop," Addie threatened them, giving them a sharp glare. She inhaled deeply, and sat up. "'Bout two weeks ago, Harry and I had a bit of an argument-" Zayn paused their game. "Seriously?" He shrugged, and Addie rolled her eyes.

She continued, "I'm not even sure what the fight was about. It started when he made the assumption that Niall was my boyfriend. I explained to him that we were friends, and it was a mistake most people made."

None of them were fazed by this information. They were the ones who had spent most of last year being asked whether Niall and Addie were together, and always were the first ones to deny the rumors that spread.

"I don't know, at some point I made some comment that I guess pissed him off. He said I had been leading him on for weeks only for my boyfriend now to show up, I said he wasn't my boyfriend, he said 'sure' in the most passive fucking aggressive way possible. I told him to get the fuck out of my car, so he did but he slammed the door so I got pissed at him and that's when it really went off the rails."

"What'd you say?" Liam asked, gaze softened with sympathy as he listened to her story.

Addie scratched the back of her neck, looking at the floor. "He said..." her voice was just above a whisper, barely loud enough for them to hear, "He said 'you didn't even pay for the car. Your mom just bought it for you to make up for how shitty she is."

Liam's face dropped as the realization of the statement settled in. All of them had learned the hard way what Addie's mom was like.

"So I told him he was an insecure jealous asshole. And that Tomlinson only gave him the spot because he felt sorry for him," Addie confessed, guilty as sin as she did. "He told me that everyone thought I was- and I quote, 'a cold, narcissistic bitch who doesn't give a shit about her friends and just nitpicks and criticizes everything she can'".

"The fuck?" Louis exclaimed. Addie's eyes looked up from where they'd been stuck to wooden floorboards, to find that Louis' face was filled with outrage. "That little shit didn't say that to you."

Addie's face went cold. "Look, it's not important, alright?"

"Addie, he called you a bitch."

"He said everyone thought I was a bitch."

"Same difference-"

"Don't act as if you're so high and mighty," Addie snapped at Louis, finally sick and tired of him. "Harry's not the only one who's treated me like shit lately."

"That's different," Louis defended, sitting up. On instinct, Addie sat up too, glaring at him even if he was slightly taller than her. Meanwhile, Zayn and Liam watched the two argue with equally shocked faces.

"How is it different?"

"Because you're the one who's too stubborn to admit you were being a jackass!"

"Eleanor was a shit player and you know it!" Addie seethed, taking a step closer to him. Her anger was beginning to bubble over and become something uncontrollable.

Louis argued, "That doesn't mean you could call her a moronic bitch!"

"Wait, you did what?" Liam exclaimed at the same time Zayn said, "You called her what?"

"I only called her a bitch because she deserved it!" Addie shouted back, "She called me a dirty skank, and if you'd given one damn about me, I would've told you that. But you decided to side with your lying, conniving girlfriend who- suprise surprise!- is now your ex." She could feel the tears falling freely down her cheeks. She always cried when she was angry. "I thought you were family! I called you my fucking brother and you didn't even hear my side of the story before deciding I wasn't- before cutting me out of your life."

Embarrassment crawled under Addie's skin as she realized the huge argument she'd just had in front the other three. She sniffled, quickly wiping her tears away.

Addie scrambled to grab her coat and keys, leaving a shocked Louis to simply stare at the space she'd once occupied. Protests came from the other boys, most noticeably Niall, who was beginning to get up, "Addie!"

She ignored them all and ran up the stairs, not even bothering to say goodbye to Mrs. Horan as she rushed to her car. She wiped the tears out of her eyes, and clicked the button to unlock her car-

A pair of firm hands grabbed her, turning her around. Addie yelped, and Louis let his grip go slack. "Did she really call you that?"

Addie shrugged. "Everyone loves to slut-shame, right?"

It was easy to act as if it was no big deal that everyone said that about her. Addie had spent her whole life pretending not to care about other people's opinions. It was second nature at this point.

But Louis saw through that cheap mask. "She shouldn't have said that. I shouldn't have sided with her." His voice broke, and just a small piece of fragility broke through, "I called you my sister too."

Addie couldn't help it. She yearned for family, for belonging and love. She'd forgive Louis a million times over because that's what it took.

She hugged him tightly, tears running down her cheeks and onto his denim jacket. She sniffled, "Sorry."

Louis shook his head, burying his face deeper in Addie's black coat, as if he was afraid she might disappear if he let go. "Let it all out, babe."

"I love you, asshole," Addie muttered through choked tears.

Louis sniffled, just slightly as he pulled back and looked her in the eyes. His blue eyes were glassy with tears. "I'm really sorry I was a dick."

Addie sniffled. "It's okay. Family sticks together, right? No matter what."

"No matter what."

---

Addie had bruises all over her knees and elbows, and she was about to pass out from exhaustion. But she put on a brave face for her girls, and led them through the match.

This match would determine whether or not their team made it to State Championships, which meant all the pressure was on Addie.

This was her team, the one she had spent countless weeks, days and hours training. Sleepless nights thinking about strategy and sweaty afternoons training until the sun went down and all her energy was spent- it all boiled down to this moment.

Addie's role as Captain would be put to the test. She couldn't fail.

And yet she didn't feel alone. All she had to do was look over at the bleachers and she'd see the people who had her back. Niall and Louis' cheers stood out from the rest, both from the accents and the volume of the shouts, but Addie could always make out Liam and Zayn's cheers even over the other two. And then there was Oli, a ginger-haired boy who'd been dragged along by Louis. He was kind, and he cheered for Addie even if they hadn't interacted much before.

Addie took a sip of her water and grinned as she gave a thumbs-up to her boys, even with sweat dripping down her spine and the thoughts whirling through her mind.

Her mom hadn't shown up. She never showed up. It'd been so painful every time for Addie last year, but it had been her four boys who had filled that gap left by her mom.

Ever since Zayn caught Addie crying right outside of the locker room as she tried to call her mom, but reached nothing but an answering machine, the four of them had ganged up and decided they would be Addie's supportive family. "You're not getting rid of us anytime soon," Zayn had winked at her that first match they'd shown up.

Addie wiped her sweat away and grabbed her teammates. "Okay, Tara, don't be scared to move through your zone, and Claire, hit the ball a little harder, it was too close to the net, alright?" The girls nodded with a grim look in their face. This was war. Addie clapped her hands. "Let's go."

Despite their best efforts, it came down to the final set. Each team had won two sets, and now it was just a matter of seeing who could get that final set.

Addie grabbed her girls, and told them, "Alice, stop hovering over Tara, and Lexi, when you spike the ball, hit it towards that girl, Grace. She won't see it coming. We've got this. We worked for this. We can do it."

It was excruciating to watch the other team hit the ball back with such ease, while some of Addie's girls were beginning to wear thin because of exhaustion. They kept going, but it was looking bad.

And it was when their captain, Jordan, hit the ball just a little too far out of Addie's reach that she finally panicked. Lexi was the only one who could reach it. But she was always afraid, scared that she would be the one who made the mistake.

But Lexi gave a running start and jumped, hitting that spike at just the right angle for Jordan to slide forward, scraping her body against the sand, with her hand just an inch away from where the ball hit the sand.

It was the boys' loud cheering that snapped Addie out of her daze. Lexi gave her a tight hug, and their team gathered in a circle, catching their breath as they shared grins of success.

They'd won.

Addie had won.

---

Addie's wet hair seeped into the back of her shirt, leaving a dark stain on the jersey, an Eagles shirt, one she'd stolen from Harry. She could still feel the adrenaline pumping through her veins, and the exhilaration of making it to State Championships made it impossible to wipe the grin off her face.

Maybe Addie still had a long way to go to Nationals, but in her first year as Captain and second year on the team, she'd qualified for State. That was a hell of an achievement.

Addie grabbed her gym bag, once again the final one to leave the room. She always made sure her team was all set before getting cleaned up herself. It was second nature by now.

She was supposed to head over to Tara's now, where her team and her friends would be waiting to celebrate, probably with a few packs of Louis' cigarettes and some six-packs of cheap beer. It was the kind of celebration Addie could've never appreciated last year, but it had turned into her own kind of comfort. Her home. Her family.

Addie locked the locker room behind her, making her way past the empty volleyball court and the extensive football field, breathing in the smell of freshly cut grass. They always cut the grass before a football match, and next weekend there would be one. Addie would come and cheer for her boys, no doubt about it.

She dug around for her keys in the pockets and zippers of her bag, finally finding it and clicking it. She turned towards the sound, and found a certain curly-haired boy leaning against the hood.

Addie froze, unsure of how to proceed, but she made her way towards him. His head was ducked, and he seemed to be staring at his hands. Addie shouted, "You better not be asking for a ride!"

Harry's head snapped up, green eyes landing on her. He blinked, scrambling to stand up straight, grabbing something he'd left on the hood and hiding it behind his body. "I'm not!"

Addie let herself stop several feet away from Harry. "So why are you here?"

"To apologize." Harry moved his hands from behind him and outstretched them to reveal a bouquet of red roses.

Addie's lips parted. "Flowers."

"You said roses you were your favorite," Harry explained sheepishly. She nodded slowly, meeting his gaze. She took the flowers from his hands, staring at the flowers. She'd never gotten flowers before. "They're apology flowers. And congratulations flowers. They- They're multipurpose."

Addie cracked a smile. Something about Harry's lighthearted jokes could always make her laugh. And the day had been good. She was happy.

Addie said, "I'm going to Tara's to celebrate our win."

Harry swallowed thickly, nodding somberly. "Right- I'll go then. Sorry."

Addie realized he'd taken it as a rejection and hastily said, "No- I meant, in case you wanna come with? And we can talk on the way, maybe?"

Harry blinked, giving her a once-over before slowly nodding. "Alright."

It was when Addie pulled out of the parking lot that Harry finally spoke.

"I'm really sorry."

"Haz-"

"No, I am," Harry insisted, twisting his body to face her fully. "I swear, I didn't mean anything of what I said, and I wanted to take it back and apologize but I didn't know how but I shouldn't have waited."

Addie cut in, "Harry-"

"You're just so amazing, and I think I like you, so I got jealous and that was wrong of me, I shouldn't have taken it out on you, and I don't think any of those things about you. Everyone's terrified of you, yeah, but they're so impressed by your talent and your intelligence and your kindness-"

"You think you like me?" Addie repeated weakly. She braked at the red light, and slowly turned to face a frozen Harry. "Harry, do you-"

"Yes." Harry looked shocked at his own words. "I don't want that to screw up our friendship, but I'm really in love with you."

A smile spread slowly over Addie's face as she pulled over to the side of the road.

"I can get out now, don't-" Harry started, but she cut him off by grasping the front of his shirt and pulling him toward her. Once he was close, she grasped his face delicately in her palm and gently laid her lips against his.

A gasp came from his lips, and she took the chance to trace the shape of his lips with her tongue. He emitted a soft groan, the sound swallowed by her slow and passionate kiss.

Harry's hands wandered up into her hair and on her waist, while she pulled him closer until she was practically in his lap. And he finally did finish the job, grasping her waist firmly and tugging her towards him until she was straddling his lap.

"That's my shirt, by the way," Harry murmured against her lips when she pulled away, resting her forehead against his.

Addie smiled. She knew everything would be alright. It'd all gone according to plan for the most part. She had a curly-haired, green-eyed boy wrapped around her finger, her heart in his hands and his shirt in her wardrobe. "It's not. It's mine now."

---

"C'mon, Addie, we're going to be late," Liam whined, knocking desperately on the bathroom door.

Addie groaned, fumbling for her lipgloss. "Shut up! You're not making this easier."

"You know Louis hates it when we're late."

"Well, he can shove his complaints up his-" Addie started, only to be cut off by the sound of a car engine rumbling. She yelped, the clattering of her makeup bag falling over and the contents pouring out echoing in her ears. She grabbed her lip liner and lipgloss, pulling the door open. "Shit. They're here."

Liam rolled his eyes, grabbing the makeup from her hands. "Go grab your bag, I'll meet you downstairs."

Addie smiled. "Thanks, babe."

She rushed to her room, grabbing her purse and pulling her heels on, glancing at the mirror in the hallway one last time and then making her way down the stairs, almost tripping halfway down.

Liam caught her before she fell. "Idiot."

"Thanks," Addie smiled nonetheless, giddy with excitement. "You look handsome, by the way. Zayn's going to love that suit."

Liam looked down at his fitted black suit, smiling to himself. "You think so?"

"He's going to die," Addie reassured him with a grin, grabbing her makeup and shoving it in her purse just in time for the bell to ring.

Addie made her way forward, eager to open the door, but Liam caught her wrist, pulling her back and adjusting the back of her dress, where the straps formed an 'X' but often got all tangled up. "Now you're all set."

Addie gave Liam's arm a quick squeeze of gratitude and opened the door. She met his green eyes, the color she'd become so familiar with for the last year. It was the color of the trees that grew, the grass you could smell in spring air, of christmas trees on holidays, of ivy that grew on you until it became a part of you.

Green was Harry's color. And now it was Addie's favorite.

She smiled at him, unable to keep a grin off her face for long around him. "Hi."

"Hey," Harry breathed, looking almost shocked as he took in the sight of her sharp eyeliner, the sweetheart neckline, the ruffles and layers of the skirt and the gloves she wore. "You look... you're beautiful."

There was something in his voice, that vulnerable honesty that always lingered, reminding Addie that he saw her as truly beautiful.

The way he looked at her, she could almost feel the love radiating from him, an affirmation that she was truly that special to him.

Addie smiled, confident in the fact that she was never letting Harry go. She took in the tailored pants, the cut of the blazer and the silk of his shirt. With curls swept back except for a single strand that fell in front of his face, framing his sharp cheekbones and that angled jaw.

The curve of his dimple appeared, and Addie's chest radiated with warmth as she grabbed the loops of his belt and pulled him forward, giving him a firm kiss.

Liam cleared his throat. "We gonna get moving?"

"Your boyfriend's waiting in the car," Harry muttered bitterly at Liam, unappreciative of the interruption.

Addie snickered as Liam pushed past them, practically skipping to the car where Zayn got out to greet him. She turned to Harry, wiping the lipgloss of his lips. "I love you."

Harry's eyes carried so much emotion, every bit of happiness and longing showing in them. He wanted her, he had her, and he was grateful for it. "I love you."

"You and me," Addie whispered, raising her pinky.

He crossed his pinky with hers. "That's my whole world."

A little game they'd made up one day. A way to reassure each other they would always be there, no matter what. It was silly and a little childish, but it was theirs.

The honking of the car was the second interruption to their moment. Harry inhaled sharply, glaring at the two boys he considered brothers waiting in the car.

Addie laughed, grabbing Harry's hand. "C'mon, it's prom, let's have some fun."

Prom was fun. They snuck in flasks of booze and spilled it into their cups of punch, easily sneaking behind teacher's backs.

Harry convinced Addie to dance with him, just for a little while. It turned into a good thirty minutes of them both smiling and enjoying the moment.

They snuck away for a quick make out session under the stairs, and when they returned, it was clear from the mark on Liam's neck that they weren't the only couple who'd snuck away.

Later, Louis snatched Addie's phone away as she was in the middle of taking pictures, and she chased him out of the gym and to the basketball court.

The others weren't far behind, watching with amusement as the two sibling bickered, their last time fighting before Louis went off to college and joined the big leagues.

That realization seemed to hit both Addie and Louis at the same time as she snatched her phone back. And their smiles faded as the facts settled over their chests like a weight.

It was then that Zayn kicked a ball towards Louis. "Show us some moves one last time."

Louis was up for the challenge and ready to distract himself from thoughts of what they might be losing. Addie kicked her heels off and padded onto the cold grass, chasing after Niall, who'd stolen the ball.

Their little group of six, the small clique that had formed and the bond that'd grown between them the last year, was all Addie could think about.

Addie didn't focus on Zayn and Louis leaving, she focused on winning the match, even with Niall's knee that had been acting up since his injury before the end of the season.

It turned into a match filled with trash talk, a few loose elbows and lots of smile and laughter. It was Niall, Addie and Harry versus Louis, Liam and Zayn.

"Pass it!" Addie shouted into the evening air, brisk to her bare arms, gloves discarded long ago as she waved her arm in the air. Harry caught her eye and kicked the ball towards her. A little too hard.

She tried to get it to hit her knee, but instead it flew into her stomach, making her bend over as she wheezed, all the air knocked out of her.

Harry ran towards her, his hand flying to rub her back as a steady stream of apologies spilled from his mouth. Meanwhile, the others snorted with laughter.

"Guess we end the year the way we started it, right?" Louis snickered, clapping Addie in the back. She straightened at the sharp pain, but smiled nonetheless.

"Shut it, Tomlinson."

No one won the match.

When Addie got home that night- or morning, it was three am. The alcohol had left her system hours ago, but the smell of tobacco from Zayn and Louis' smoking lingered on her dress, mixed with Harry's cologne.

Addie would miss these kinds of days when the two boys went off to college. But for now, she simply smiled into her pillow as she remembered the five loyal friends she'd made. And that one green-eyed boy she loved so dearly.

---

Addie cried during her graduation. For a number of reasons.

First, it was her mom's text that she wasn't showing up. No big surprise, but it still hit her hard. Then, it was seeing her friends in those cap and gowns. It meant they were all parting ways. And finally, it was as she got onto the stage for her speech as valedictorian, and looked into the crowd, expecting not to see a familiar face when-

"Let's go, Heathers!" Louis cheered, as Zayn shouted, "That's our girl!"

Addie grinned, reminded of the brothers she had. Her mom wasn't family. Those two were.

Addie told her speech perfectly, barely even glancing at her notes as she spoke about the loss of a stage of her life she'd never get back, strangers from another country who had embraced her with welcoming arms, and the friends she'd made along the way. She spoke of the hardships, and the challenges, but refused to leave out all the happiness and the victories.

She reminded them to take that leap of faith, jump and see where they landed, that the biggest risks came with the biggest wins. And the choice you feared the most would be the one to reap the rewards.

Addie got her diploma and after they tossed the caps in the air, it was almost as if it had been planned the way all four of the freshly-graduated kids sprinted towards Zayn and Louis, the six of them squeezing together for a hug.

That was the last time Addie cried. When she realized she'd found her forever home with this little mismatched family. Their Sacred group of Six.

---

It was at the end of their first year of college that Addie and Harry took their first trip as a couple. Just the two barely legal adults taking a trip to Mexico for the beaches.

Addie didn't tell her family she'd be in town, and instead just relaxed on the beach with Harry. It was when the weekend was coming to a close, and their last night at the resort was spent having a nice dinner.

He paid for dinner and then grasped her hand, leading her back onto the sand of the beach. The night sky was dark, freckled with the whites of stars and the gray hue of the moon.

The water reflected the moon, and a single one of Harry's knees touched the cold sand. His hand clutched a black box, and Addie's heart raced.

Words spilled out of his mouth, promises he would fulfill and letting all the love inside his heart linger in the air for Addie to know.

Six months later, they had a small wedding. A ceremony in Harry's backyard, with white and red roses everywhere and their family.

Addie's parents had been invited. She reckoned they could come as guests, but they wouldn't be allowed to participate in the wedding. Her parents had been bitter about not being a part of the wedding and being reduced to simple guests, so in protest, they didn't show up. It didn't bother Addie nearly as much as she thought it would.

Instead, it was Robin who walked her down the aisle and handed her off. And it was Anne beside her as the maid of honor. The two had done more for Addie in three years than her own parents had done in nineteen.

Addie had learned the hard way that family had nothing to do with blood. But it was a lesson she cherished having learned.

They'd decided to skip a little bit of the tradition and instead had divided the groomsmen/bridesmaids evenly between the two sides.

Liam and Zayn stood behind Harry, with Gemma in between them, while Niall and Louis stood behind Addie, Anne in between the two boys.

Over the last three years, Gemma had become like an older sister to Addie, guiding her through the rough parts of her life, and giving her a strong woman in her life she could turn to.

It was the first time several people had seen Addie cry, but it was only fitting for who they were. She kept a strong, cold face for everyone else, but the second her eyes met Harry's, it all melted away.

Every single wall Addie had ever built to keep herself safe crumbled to the ground with the one person she would always love. Her forever home, Harry.

And Harry cried, of course. He'd always been a shining star, but when he had Addie, he became the sun, fierce and radiating warmth. She was everything he had ever wanted and never known he needed.

Getting through their vows was the hardest part, both of them choking up as they tried to get through their speeches. Harry had had to write his down because every time he tried to speak it from memory, he'd get so distracted by the knowledge that he was marrying Adelaide Heathers, that he'd forget it.

And Addie managed to memorize hers, but faltered halfway through as she sniffled. It was Louis' reassuring squeeze on her shoulder that gave her the strength to finish.

Her speech was beautiful and poetic, and she'd worked tirelessly to make sure it could capture the essence of her adoration for Harry. But words were never enough.

She finished with one last sentence; "I can't wait to have forever with you."

After the ceremony, the two had had to retire to a private room before beginning the reception. Just letting each other process the fact that that was it. They'd just promised each other forever.

"I can't wait to start the rest of our lives," Addie said. "Me and you."

"That's my whole world."

---

Addie was in college for her scholarship to practice professional volleyball. She would later go on to win the Summer Olympics her first season as a player, and would rise through the ranks until eventually becoming Captain.

Harry kept going with football for several years. But after getting a camera for his birthday, soon discovered his passion for photography. He quit the team and began discovering his love for art.

He worked as a freelance photographer for a couple of years, and then worked with a highly-esteemed fashion magazine, worked as a model once with the same magazine before discovering he preferred being behind the lens than in front of it.

Harry then worked as a photographer for an album photoshoot for the highly-recognized Love Band, and then became close friends with members Mitch and Sarah Rowland. It was then that he began venturing into music.

After Addie was injured during her last match before her team could qualify for the Olympics, she was forced to drop out from the rest of the season. She them began to explore writing, and published several compilations of poems and short stories in the six months of break before returning to her team.

Years later, once Addie retired, she would join Harry with his exploration of music and the two would co-write an album. It would be Adelaide Heathers' debut in music and Harry Styles' fifth studio album.

They would spend the next few years exploring art, creating new and bizzare things, and most of all, staying in touch with the family they'd had since they were kids.

This is your reminder that in every world, and in every universe, no matter the circumstances, Addie, Harry, Niall, Liam, Louis and Zayn find their way to each other and become a family.

And in every universe, Adelaide Heathers and Harry Styles fall in love. And despite the twists and turns, it always works out in the end.

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nkyslover · 2 days ago

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` ` RED LIGHTS AND STOP SIGNS!

somehow, gojo satoru seems to not see the lights turn red, and crashes his car into yours. how blind can somebody be!? the car was right from the showroom too, maybe he'll be willing to pay compensation? wait, wait! don't get your hopes up! he'll probably flirt his way out of it...

content warnings! — slight nsfw suggestions, satoru being clumsy and a complete flirt, reader has a temper, sarcastic satoru, lowkey an enemies to lovers! this is filled with fluff btw, idk this is triggering plz lmk if it is guys!!

mara's notes! — guys first fic, sorry if its a little short☹️☹️, thank u to mark pookie @wizzarabl with helping with finding prompts and inspo!! GO CHECK HIM OUT GUYS!! hope u alllllll enjoy this! requests are open <3.

skrrrrrt!

your eyes widen, and your flung a little forward in your seat as a loud gasp escapes your glossy pink lips. your frozen as your car stops its shaking.

did somebody just hit my car!?

your hand flies to the seat belt, opening it as you rush to open the car door and step out of the now damaged car. "are you kidding me..." you manage to mutter as your heels click on the rough pebble of the road, you manoeuvre sound the car.

a gasp louder than the first fills the air as you eye the damaged contents.

okay, it wasn't that bad, but it wasn't even okay either!

maybe you were a tad bit dramatic.

you hear the sound of another car door opening, shoes hitting the rough ground of the road. your head whips to the side, and your eyes flicker to a person stumbling over, barely standing upright.

the white haired man stands, his height very intimidating considering the fact that he stood atleast more than 6 inches higher from you.

the most infuriating thing was how insanely pretty he was.

he hit your car!? are you sure it was him?

he looked... not upset. totally like he didn't just smash your car that you were driving back from the showroom.

"are you blind!?" you exclaim. ouch, maybe that was a little too loud. "it was a red light, and you were going at 40!"

he blinks, before he cocks his head to the side, failing to keep a grin off his face.

"sorry sweetheart, couldn't see." obviously he couldn't see, who wears sunglasses in winter!? "your joking.. i just bought this car!" you complain, a frown painting your lips. "literally." you mumble, shoulders slumping as you eye the damage made.

his sharp gaze flickers to the car, and he cocks an eyebrow. "oops." he speaks, voice smooth as he moves forward to stand beside you. "well, i'm sure a little work would patch this baby back up."

"its a car, not a toy."

"no shit." a scoff leaves your mouth at his bluntness. "i want compensation for this." you speak up, you felt like you were gonna explode.

he blinks, head turning to look down at you, a smile forming on his face. "compensation?" the air suddenly felt hotter, uh oh.

your head shoots to the side, gaze locking with his. "huh— yeah, compensation. its either compensation or i swear to god, i will report you, and get your licence taken off you—" that's if he has one...

"calm down, princess. i dunno, what type of compensation ya' wanting?"

it clicked. the gears in your head turned, he meant something else. or he thought what you said had a whole different meaning.

"excuse me?" your jaw drops. "cash, cash would be preferable." you cut him off before he can speak, quickly suggesting (or rather telling, or maybe demanding—) what you actually meant.

"cash?"

"cash."

"can i get your number first?" your brows furrow. "my number?" "it's for the compensation." he smiles, but anyone would know he's up to no good. your quiet, as if thinking about it.

before you know it, he's saved you down in his contacts.

"oh, by the way... is there a way i can pay the compensation without the cash? y'know, a date would be preferable."

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk satoru #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jjk fanart #jjk gojo #mara's work #jujutsu kaisen satoru #satoru gojo

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satellite-blossom · 7 months ago

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I'm going to say something that's probably going to get misinterpreted but it's not because you're black that you can't have US-centric beliefs. It's not just a white person thing. At one point you'll have to acknowledge that there's a multitude of black experiences that don't align with Afro-Americans' or even British black people's, because yes, there are other countries in the world than the USA or the UK.

I see a lot of "very bad takes" on certain issues on this site, for a lack of a better word, and their main issue (beyond the condescending tone they're written in) is their blatant US-centrism, which is particularly irritating when it's coming from people who beg others to "listen to diverse voices" and "educate themselves" while they themselves can't even acknowledge realities outside of North America. Being Afro-American doesn't guarantee you don't have US American mindsets to unlearn.

#And before anyone comes at me let it be known I am black myself #Black & French but also half Senegalese because of my bio mom #And my father has complicated origins because of geopolitical issues #But his parents were Togolese for one and Beninese for the other #I have relatives who live in various countries‚ from the Ivory Coast to Canada and we talk a lot #So while I cannot pretend I know everything about the ❝black experience❞ I know enough to know #that Afro-American's experience of blackness isn't universal and it's really fucking annoying when people claim it is #So much for generalizing what ❝blackness❞ to claim to have moral superiority compared to the average Tumblr user #yet being unable to even talk about La Négritude #❝Learn black history !❞ ❝Listen to black voices !❞ but focus on the USA and perhaps Canada #and never consider experiences from other places that differ from what Americans already know #That's how these guys sound like and it's INFURIATING #berry rambles #angry rant

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perilegs · 10 months ago

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what's the worst audio i can use for an edit? i was thinking of jerma singing ohh the treachery but i want options

#umg pulled all their songs from tiktok so now ppl are making their usual edits to like wii shop music and classical songs #bc it's endlessly infuriating to spend hours making something in the audiovisual form FOR FUN for NO profit #and have the audio removed for copyright. on a clip that lasts about 30 seconds. of which the music plays under 30 seconds.#and ok yeah tiktok sucks but so does umg #they were like ''we care about our small artists so we're pulling their music away from the app and if we dont get #a better deal we'll pull everything'' and they did.#first of all how is stopping ppl from using songs from smaller artists good for them. do you guys have any idea how many #songs get popular bc of edits or dances or something #i'm no artist but i'd be happy if someone made a trend to a song of mine and it suddenly got popular #but idk i'm no expert on the matter i'm just someone mildly inconvenienced by my hobby getting fucked over #leevi talks #that being said tiktok should still remove their art and sound ai stuff

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sleepingfancies · 2 years ago

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that was the most depressed sounding “wahoo” i’ve ever fucking heard im losing it

#mario movie #chris pratt once again letting the entire project down #BUT on that note it equally annoys me how little effort ATJ is putting into peach #like. we have literally heard peach's voice before. it sounds fuckall like that #once again jack black is the only one actually delivering any degree of Voice Acting #which! shockingly! voice acting is not just 'saying lines' it's .acting. with your voice #anyways. voice actors everywhere i'm so fucking sorry about all this. this must be infuriating #esp since i just knowww they're paying these guys a shit load for doing this and regular voice actors get paid pennies

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pom-seedss · 6 months ago

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I chose to be fat. I chose to take medication that had a primary side effect of gaining weight. I chose that over not having medication. When I was starting to gain weight, I had several doctors warn me off of the medication because I was gaining weight. I chose to continue to take the medication.

I wasn't doing it explicitly to be fat, but I chose to become fat none the less. I chose to continue to become fatter as I was being told off for it. It was a choice.

Acting like nobody would ever choose to be fat, makes it seem like a terrible fate worse than any other.

My doctors noticed I was gaining weight and tried to persuade me to go off of the medication that was otherwise saving my life. I had to tell them point blank that I would rather be fat than dead before they would stop hounding me about it.

And frankly, it shouldn't have gotten to that point. My increased weight wasn't affecting my health, I had many lab tests to prove it. But despite this, it was considered a problem because being fat isn't ever something people would choose.

Being fat is fine. Being fat is good. Being fat isn't just some conscripted shameful fate you cannot ever change so you might as well work to accept it. It is glorious and beautiful and amazing.

While I think it is useful for some people to be reminded that bodies are complex and our body shape is often not within our control.... using that to shrug and say "no one would be fat on purpose otherwise" still makes being fat a bad thing. It still paints our natural human variation as an abomination no one desires.

Even if bodies were 100% malleable, we could change them on a whim and we could reshape ourselves however we want: some people would still be fat. Some people would choose to become fat. Some people would actively work towards that state of being because they like it!

it literally HAS to be okay to choose to be fat in order for fat liberation to mean anything at all tbh

#this reminds me a lot of the whole 'born this way' rhetoric which can be very helpful but also #can paint being queer like being a victim of circumstance that no one would choose to endure otherwise #making it out to be a thing we just suffer through and i hate it #treating being fat or being queer as though it was on the same level as my chronic pain is infuriating #but yeah i remember talking to a friend about star trek future and how 'no one would ever know' that there were trans people #around them because medically things would be good enough that no one would ever 'have to know'#and i just about lost it on this friend because that sounds an awful lot like trans people being forced #into closets just because medical transitioning would be easier and as though no one would ever #choose to be openly trans or that passing as cisgender is the goal of ever trans person and I just #fucking NO guys no....#even if things were perfect even if we were medically perfect even if we could change anything #trans people and fat people and queer people would still exist and we would still CHOOSE to exist this way

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technicolorxsn · 10 months ago

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thinking abt the left right game.....

#it wasnt anything particularly special but it was rly well executed #i loved the scene where the cars were sinking into the asphalt #and the atmosphere of the suburbia scene was really good #and ofc bluejay her writing was so well done #perfectly infuriating but the sheer preventability of it is still so tragic #the guy who started it too... made it kost of the way with the mc #cant remember his name but he was rly good too #i might revisit it....... might revisit penpal too #oh how i miss good nosleep stories...#i think the part i like especially about this one is its really fucking good but the initial premise + title sound. so fucking dumb #but then u get hooked into it and yknow what fuck logistics i wanna see this bitch see her whole party die in increasingly tragic ways and #then gain the knowledge of god #like the writing gets so compelling the dumb premise doesnt rly matter anymore #weird premise amazing execution

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driftwooddestiel · 1 year ago

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i want to complain about the mullets in my classes but since im guessinf none of you know what i mean when i say mullet it wouold just sound like im complaining about hair

#see when i say mullets i mean the specific type of guy who like . has a mullet (usually) plays footy (usually) is rude #always trying to disrupt people and is 9 times out of 10 wildly bigoted and constantly trying to annoy people #theyre like a whole type of guy where i am and probably in most of australia and they are so infuriating #irl we just refer to them as ‘mullets’ because most of them have mullets and almost all ppl with mullets at my school are like this #but without context it just sounds like ur talking about the haircut which is a shame bc mullets are not that bad a haircut #anyway you dont need to have a mullet to be a mullet its just a common thing #idk how widespread this name is tho everyone i know irl uses it but idk about other places #ANYWAY YEAH ! just giving context for if you see me ranting about mullets i am NOT talkong about the hair im talking about the ppl

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d1stalker · 3 months ago

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I Want You [Logan Howlett]

Summary: Logan is jealous of you and Scott's friendship, not knowing your true feelings.

Warnings: SMUT! 18+ only please. fem/afab!reader. brief argument, logan being stubborn comme d'hab, making out, oral, riding, you get the idea ;)

WC: 2.9k - MASTERLIST

The sun is setting, casting long shadows across the X-Mansion grounds. You find yourself on the patio, leaning against the railing, watching as the last rays of sunlight dip below the trees. The tranquility of the moment is soothing, a brief escape from the chaos that often fills your days.

Your mind drifts to earlier that day, when you and Scott had been working together in the training room. He's always been a good friend—someone you can rely on when you need advice or a steady hand in a crisis. Scott had patiently helped you fine-tune your abilities, offering encouragement and constructive feedback.

"You're really getting the hang of it," Scott had said with a smile as you both took a break, sitting on the edge of the training mat. "I'm impressed."

"Thanks, Scott," you had replied, grateful for his support. "Couldn't have done it without your help."

He had shrugged, a modest grin on his face. "We make a good team. It's nice to have someone who gets it, you know?"

You had nodded, feeling the warmth of genuine friendship between you. Scott was like the brother you never had, someone who understood the challenges you faced and never judged you for them.

The sound of heavy footsteps approaching breaks your reverie. You recognize them immediately—Logan.

"You and Summers seem to be gettin' pretty close."

You turn to face him, raising an eyebrow at his accusatory tone. "Scott? We're just friends, Logan. You know that."

He crosses his arms over his chest, scowl deepening. "Doesn't look like it from where I'm standin'."

Frustration bubbles up inside you, and you can’t help but let it spill over. "And where exactly are you standing? Lurking in the shadows, jumping to conclusions?"

His eyes narrow, jaw clenching. "I'm just callin' it like I see it."

"You don't see anything," you retort, matching his intensity. "You're too busy looking for problems that aren't there."

He steps closer, his presence imposing but familiar. "I see the way he looks at you."

You roll your eyes, exasperated. "And how do I look at him, Logan?"

"Like he hung the damn moon," Logan mutters, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his voice.

"That's rich coming from the guy who's too stubborn to see what's right in front of him," you snap back, heart pounding.

He pauses, taken aback by your words. "What do you mean by that?"

You take a deep breath, the weight of your unspoken feelings pressing down on you. "I mean, I'm not in love with Scott. I'm in love with you. But you're too busy being jealous and stubborn to notice."

He blinks, surprise flickering across his features. His defenses falter for a moment, and you see the real him beneath the rugged exterior. "Me? Why the hell would you—"

"Because you're you, Logan," you interrupt, voice softer now. "You're gruff and infuriating, but you're also brave and kind. You see through the facade I put up, and you make me want to be better."

He looks at you, his hardened exterior cracking. "I thought I wasn't good enough for you,” he says, quietly.

You step closer, reaching out to touch his arm. The contact is electric, as always, grounding both of you in the moment. "You don't get to decide that for me. I've made my choice."

He stares at you, a mix of disbelief and longing in his eyes. "All this time... and I was just bein' a damn fool."

"Yeah, you were,” you say with a smile, the tension between you dissipating.

Logan lets out a low chuckle, the sound warm and genuine. "Guess I should apologize for actin' like a jerk, huh?"

You nod, teasingly. "That would be a good start."

He takes a deep breath, looking into your eyes with a sincerity that makes your heart race. "I'm sorry, darlin'. I was stupid, and I let my jealousy get the best of me."

You smile, feeling the last remnants of your anger melt away. "Apology accepted, but you're gonna have to make it up to me."

Tthe familiar glint returns to his eyes as he smirks. "Oh, I will. Count on it."

A comfortable silence falls between you. The night air is cool and refreshing, and you can hear the distant sounds of laughter from inside the mansion.

"Why didn’t you ever say anything?" Logan asks, his voice quieter now, almost tentative.

"I guess I was scared," you admit. "Scared of ruining what we have, of pushing you away. You’re not exactly easy to read."

He chuckles softly. "Yeah, well, you're not the only one who’s scared. I’m not good at this...feelin’ stuff. Always thought it’d get in the way."

"It doesn’t have to," you say, hoping your words convey the sincerity you feel. "You don’t have to do this alone, Logan. We can figure it out together."

He nods, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. You share a moment of quiet understanding. For once, there’s no need for words. You both know what this means.

"Come on," Logan says suddenly, breaking the silence. "Let’s get outta here for a while."

"Where to?" you ask, curiosity piqued.

There’s a playful glint in his eyes as he shrugs. "Anywhere but here. I hear there’s a nice little spot by the lake where the stars look like they’re close enough to touch."

You laugh, "Alright, lead the way.”

---

The walk to the lake is peaceful, the cool night air wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. The sound of your footsteps on the gravel path blends with the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. You and Logan walk side by side, your fingers occasionally brushing against each other, only feeding the tension that seems to be growing as each moment passes.

When you reach the lake, the water shimmers under the starlight, a breathtaking view that makes you catch your breath. Logan finds a spot on the grassy bank, and you settle down beside him, lying back to gaze up at the sky.

"It's beautiful here," you whisper, feeling the tranquility of the moment seep into your bones.

Logan nods, his gaze fixed on you instead of the stars. "Yeah, it is."

His arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. You rest your head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear. It's a comforting sound, grounding you in the reality of this moment.

You tilt your head up to look at him, meeting his eyes. There's a softness there that you haven't seen before, a vulnerability that makes your heart swell. "I've wanted this for a long time, Logan."

He smiles, a rare and genuine expression that lights up his features. "Me too. Guess I was too stubborn to admit it."

You chuckle softly, reaching up to trace your fingers along the line of his jaw. "I like this side of you."

He catches your hand, pressing a kiss to your fingertips. His touch is gentle, almost reverent, as if he's afraid you'll disappear if he's not careful. The world around you fades away as Logan leans down, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. It's slow and tentative at first, as if testing the waters, but quickly deepens into something more urgent and heated.

You shift closer, your bodies fitting together perfectly as his hand slides up your back, pulling you even closer. Your fingers weave into his hair, anchoring yourself as the kiss intensifies, leaving you breathless.

Breaking away briefly, his forehead rests against yours as he catches his breath. "You sure about this?" he murmurs, his voice low and husky.

You nod, your own breath coming in short gasps. "Absolutely."

With a growl of approval, Logan captures your lips again, the kiss filled with a hunger that leaves you dizzy. He shifts, pulling you with him as he rolls onto his back, guiding you to straddle his hips. His hand traces down your side, sending shivers of anticipation through you. The world around you feels distant and unimportant, the only thing that matters is the man with you and the way he makes you feel.

As the kiss deepens, you lose yourself in the moment, the passion and intensity of it all consuming you. Slowly, you rock back and forth, grinding your hot core against his growing bulge. Something akin to a growl releases from his throat, as his hands tighten their grip on you.

Breaking the kiss, Logan trails his lips down your neck, planting soft, lingering kisses along your skin. You tilt your head back, allowing him to continue his journey, savouring the sensation of his mouth against you. He hooks his fingers into the hem of your shirt, pausing to look up at you. With deliberate slowness, he slides your shirt up and over your head, discarding it with a flick of his wrist. He takes a moment to admire you, his hands tracing the curves of your waist with a gentle reverence.

“Wow,” he breathes, his voice rough with emotion. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”

His eyes roam over you appreciatively, lingering on your bare skin. His words and gaze make your heart race and heat flood your cheeks.

“Says you,” you murmur, feeling a heady mix of vulnerability and desire under his gaze.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he whispers, flipping you over so you’re now on your back as he hovers above you. “I’ve thought about this moment more times than I can count.”

He begins to kiss the valley between your breasts, hands never ceasing their exploration of your body. Your grasp finds the hem of his shirt, tugging it up and over his head, revealing the hard planes of his chest. Your fingers trace over his muscles, delighting in the way they ripple beneath your touch.

Logan grins, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he moves even lower, his kisses trailing down your stomach. Each touch is electric, leaving a path of heat in its wake. His fingers find the waistband of your pants, slowly sliding them down your legs. With your pants discarded, Logan settles himself between your thighs, his hands gently parting them to make room for himself. His touch is firm yet gentle, and you shiver in anticipation as he leans in, his breath warm against your most sensitive skin.

He starts with soft kisses along your inner thighs, teasing you with his lips and the occasional scrape of his teeth. The feeling sends a thrill through you, making your heart race and your body ache for more. Finally, Logan focuses his attention on your centre, his mouth moving with expert precision as he tastes you. The first touch of his tongue is like fire, a sensation so intense that it steals your breath away. You gasp, your hands finding their way to his hair, anchoring yourself to him as the pleasure begins to build.

He works you with a practiced ease, his tongue tracing patterns that have you arching into him, seeking more of the exquisite sensations he’s giving you. He alternates between gentle flicks and firmer strokes, finding a rhythm that leaves you trembling beneath him. Your soft moans and gasps fill the night air, mingling with the sound of the lake and the distant rustle of leaves. Logan responds to your every sound, adjusting his movements, his sole focus on drawing out your pleasure.

As the tension coils within you, winding tighter with each deft movement of his tongue, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of release. Logan senses your impending climax, his efforts doubling as he brings you closer and closer to the brink. With a final flick of his tongue at your clit with gentle, firm pressure, he pushes you over the edge, sending you spiraling into ecstasy. The world dissolves around you as the waves of pleasure crash over you, leaving you breathless and shaking.

Logan stays with you through it all, his touch gentle and reassuring as you come down from your high. He presses a soft kiss to your thigh before moving back up to lie beside you, gathering you into his arms as you catch your breath. “Logan,” you whisper, feeling a warmth that’s more than just physical spreading through you.

He smiles, a satisfied, tender expression on his face as he brushes a stray hair from your cheek. “I’ve got you,” he murmurs.

You shift slightly, your fingers tracing the lines of his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. The sight of him, hair tousled and eyes filled with a mix of satisfaction and desire, stirs something within you. You lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, feeling the warmth of his body against yours.

Responding eagerly to your initiation, the kiss deepens as your hands explore each other with a renewed sense of curiosity and hunger, as if he didn’t just make you finish with his mouth. You push him gently onto his back, straddling his hips as you trade positions once again, trailing kisses down his chest, savoring the way his muscles tense under your touch.

Your hands make quick work of his belt and jeans, tugging them down to reveal the hard length of him. He’s beautiful. Logan’s breath hitches as you take him in your hand, stroking him with a slow, deliberate rhythm that draws a low groan from his lips.

You lower yourself further, your lips and tongue exploring every inch of him, tasting and teasing until his hands are tangled in your hair, guiding you with a mix of urgency and need. The sounds he makes, the way he reacts to your touch, only spurs you on, and you take him deeper, reveling in the way his body responds to yours.

“Darlin’,” Logan rasps, his voice strained with pleasure, “you’re gonna be the death of me.”

You smile against him, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze, the heat in his eyes matching the fire burning within you. “Well, don’t go dying on me now,” you tease, moving back up to capture his lips in a heated kiss.

His hands grip your hips, holding you in place as you settle over him. You barely break the kiss as you grab his length and slowly sit down on it. The pleasure of being filled by him draws a gasp from your lips, and a hearty groan vibrates underneath you.

You brace yourself against his chest, feeling the taut muscles beneath your palms, as you begin to move. The rhythm starts slow and steady, each movement deliberate as you rise and fall, taking him deeper with each movement of your hips. Soon enough, you feel him begin to thrust up into you, matching your pace, pounding into you even deeper than before.

Logan’s grip on your hips tightens, guiding you as you pick up the pace, your bodies moving in perfect harmony. The sound of your breathy sighs and his low groans fill the air, mingling with the gentle rustle of the leaves and the lapping of the lake against the shore.

His eyes remain locked on yours, a dark and heated gaze that stokes the fire within you. You feel the tension coiling tight, winding with each movement until it’s all-consuming, a need that demands release.

“I’m close,” you gasp, leaning forward to capture his lips in a heated kiss.

The tension within you builds to a crescendo, a tidal wave of sensation that sweeps you away. With one final movement, you tumble over the edge, your release crashing over you in a symphony of pleasure that leaves you trembling in his arms.

He follows soon after, a low, guttural moan escaping him as he finds his own release, his hands finding and squeezing your breasts while his body shudders beneath you.

When the waves of pleasure subside, you collapse against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath you. His arms wrap around you, holding you close, and you smile against his skin, feeling a sense of peace and contentment that only comes from being with him.

The night air cools the heat between you, and you nestle against Logan’s side, feeling safe and cherished in the aftermath of your shared passion. His fingers trace lazy patterns along your back, soothing and grounding you as you bask in the warmth of his embrace.

“Wow,” you whisper, a soft laugh escaping you as you meet his gaze, the stars reflected in his eyes. “That was…”

“Incredible,” he finishes for you, a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips. “You’ve got me all figured out, darlin’.”

You chuckle, feeling the warmth of his words settle in your chest. “I think we’ve got eachother figured out.”

“Yeah, we do,” Logan agrees, pulling you closer, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

As the night stretches on, you find comfort and peace in Logan’s embrace, knowing that this is just the beginning of something beautiful and real. You’ve found a home in each other’s arms—a place where you truly belong.

---------

A/N: this is my first time ever writing smut yikes lol please leave feedback!

#wolverine smut #wolverine #deadpool 3 #logan howlett #deadpool and wolverine #james howlett #hugh jackman #deadpool movie #logan howlett fic #logan howlett smut #logan x reader #logan howlett x reader #x men #smut #wolverine x reader #wolverine imagine #marvel smut #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic

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adreamfromnevermore · 8 months ago

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Headcanon that the Bats must be the most infuriating members of the justice league. And it's got nothing to do with what they do or don't know or even their general skills and egos. Everyone is very used to Batman and the expectation that him and any of his spawn are somehow going to be three steps ahead of any issue they bring to the table ever.

No no, the infuriating bit? The stalking.

Listen, this is a family of freaks and weirdos. They work so well together because none of them were normal to start with and then they ended up traumatized. It's practically common practice in that family to accept that nothing is what it seems at face value and that all of your siblings are attempting to pry into your private life and cases at any given moment. I think for them it's honestly weirder if you take what they say at face value. They speak a language holy separate from any normally socialized person and it is a language of lies and half-truths that relies on the assumption that all parties are aware of that.

They're the most infuriating bitches around.

They'll tell someone something and appear to do the opposite and when confronted will have the most convoluted but sound reasoning of why they actually did exactly as they promised too.

They regularly pick people's pockets and hack into personal information because for them? That's practically a love language. They're obnoxious and they aren't even aware of it. Someone asks them to just tell the truth and they react like they've been shot. They're probably offended when they realize that someone hasn't been at least attempting to dig into them back, like come on man. I thought we were friends but you didn't even Google how long Nightwings been around? We've already put the bar on the floor for you guys? My siblings already have a full dossier ready on you because they caught us on camera in your home city during that 2 minute conversation we had 3 months ago. They sent it to me a few hours later. I think they got Oracle to help cause usually it takes them at least 12 hours.

You think they're being nice and friendly and then you realize that they have a nice little file compiled of everything you've done in the last five years, where you went to school and every note your teachers ever made about your behavior a decade ago when you were still a high schooler and fairly normal. If asked they'd probably be willing to bring out the family tree they built for you. They know what you did last summer better than you know what you did last summer. They have pictures, pictures that should be impossible because there's no way they were stalking you then and those sure don't look like security camera footage.

In reality Bats and Superman get along so well because that man is an investigative journalist and when they first met he could not leave it alone. Bruce was charmed the first time Clark Kent started doggedly attempting to ask him if he knew anything about Gothams new cryptid. It was cute how off base he was. But he was trying!!!! Bruce was sold for life! He dropped an dossier on lexcorp off in Clarks apartment a few days later. As a gift.

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bet-on-me-13 · 1 year ago

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Danny may be a Ghost Baby who feels like an Anicent, but his friends don't.

SO, we all know the Ghost Baby Headcanon by now right? The idea that Danny is literally a Toddler by Ghost Standards, but because of how powerful he is everybody else believes that he is an Ancient or a God who is hogging the Mortal World to himself.

But what about his friends?

They were right there when the Portal opened. No Hazmat Suits, no Cover, no Protection from the Dimension of Pure Energy that had just been opened right in front of them.

That has to have some kind of Side Effects!

And actually, we do know of a Character who was just standing in front of a Portal when it opened and still got affected by it. Vlad.

While Danny was turned into a Halfa instantly, his friends would be more similar to Vlad in that they are slow to transform.

It takes weeks, but eventually they become mini-halfas themselves. Except they didn't have an entire Dimension of energy pushed into them upon fully forming, so their Ecto-Signatures actually feel like the babies they are supposed to be.

So imagine this from the Ghosts perspective.

They meet this guy called Phantom, a Halfa who is Extremely Powerful, but nobody has seen him in centuries. He was known as a very powerful Protector Spirit for millennia, randomly showing up across history, but always helping others. And then he just vanished one day, not seen again for centuries.

Until recently, when he showed in the Mortal World, stopping any other Ghost from fulfilling their Obsessions with Humans. And by his side are 2 smaller Halfa's that feel like they must have barely formed. You can see where this is going.

They think Sam and Tucker are Danny's children.

It makes sense! A Powerful Ancient, known for protecting people, suddenly disappears for centuries and then shows up again with 2 baby Halfa's in tow? That sounds like a Protector Spirit who lost his will to fight, decided to settled down in the Mortal Realm, and then found out that 2 baby Halfa's were formed when a Portal was opened!

He isn't selfishly holding the Mortal Realm to himself! He's protecting the Fledgling Haunt of his 2 Babies! They must still have living Family, that's why he is so adamant that they don't hurt the Civilains in their battles!

Now they just feel like assholes for attacking the Baby's dad when he was just trying to protect their stuff.

Danny finds this both extremely infuriating, and also agonizingly hilarious.

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dollfacefantasy · 6 months ago

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Room for One More

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader x chris redfield

summary: months ago, chris let his apprentice slip through his fingers when she transferred to the d.s.o. to work with leon kennedy. now the three of them have been sent on a mission together and are forced to share a hotel room.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, threesome, p in v, oral sex (f and m recieving), face-sitting, exhibitionism, age gap (early 20s, late 30s), jealousy, light angst

word count: 9.2k

a/n: had this in my drafts since february let's go. hope you guys like it <3

You and Leon were so fucking annoying.

Irritating, aggravating, infuriating pains in his ass. That’s all Chris could think while speeding down the road, his knuckles white from their tight grip on the steering wheel. The three of you were all supposed to be professionals for god’s sake. He shouldn’t have to deal with the two of you acting no better than a couple of horny teenagers during a fucking mission.

It was constant. The giggling and gasping, soft whines of “Leon stoppppp.” And he could hear Leon’s stupid fucking smirk when he chuckled and kept doing whatever was causing you to squirm around with him in the back seat. If he had to sit through much more of this, he was pretty sure he’d end up plowing the car into a nearby tree and putting himself out of his misery.

Chris glanced in the rearview mirror. Darkness engulfed the car right now, making it hard to clearly see what his ‘partners’ were up to. All he could really make out was that Leon’s head had been in the crook of your neck but was now tilted upwards to capture you in a kiss. The only thing keeping him sane was the miniscule light in the distance. The small reminder that he wouldn’t be stuck in the car with the sounds of saliva swapping forever. He lets out a deep sigh and shakes his head, trying to will himself to just tune the aggravation out. But as the minutes pass by, each wet smack of lips grates on his nerves more and more.

“Can you two cut it out back there? I’m trying to focus,” he says. His harsh stare remains on the road ahead.

He hears your bodies briefly untangling as his words pierce the bubble you had created for yourselves. Leon is the first to respond.

“Our mistake, Redfield. Didn’t know it was such a challenge to go twenty-five miles an hour on an empty road,” he remarks. Again, Chris’s blood boils as he senses that self-satisfied expression taking over the other man’s features.

Your light slap to Leon’s bicep sounds through the car’s interior. “Sorry, Chris. We’ll keep it down,” you apologize.

In contrast to your boyfriend, your tone rings genuine. You sounded almost a little embarrassed by Chris calling out your antics. Your soft voice drifting to his ears actually softens him a tad. He knew the expression you wore now too. How your eyes were fixed on the DSO agent, giving him the glare you used when you wanted to seem firm. In reality, it came off as cute, like an angry kitten. And now Leon got to be the one to grin at you and shake his head, amused by your sweet face. He got to be in the position Chris let slip through his fingers months ago.

***

You’d been his first. Started out at the BSAA as his rookie. Your first day you’d been so bright-eyed, hopeful and ready to start out your career and face the world. He’d been reluctant to take on a trainee at first. It’s a lot of work with a 50/50 shot at reward, but the second he laid eyes on you, he knew the luck of the draw had worked in his favor.

You were the ideal apprentice. A great listener, eager to learn everything you could, and accepting of commands. Every day with you was a breeze. And besides the parts of you suited for your job, you were just generally pleasant to be around. He could joke with you, talk to you about damn near any subject. You were a great partner in the field too. At first, he’d been worried. A cute little thing like you taking on bioterrorists? He struggled to believe that would work out. As soon as he saw you in action though, you left no doubt that he’d been wrong. He became more taken with you upon seeing you act so capable. He realized that he felt a connection with you that he’d been lacking for so much of his life.

Unfortunately for him, he had these pesky things called ‘morals’ that prevented him from pursuing you. Every time he legitimately considered flirting or asking you out, the guilt gnawed at him, filling his mind with words of shame rather than anything that could charm you. No matter how he thought about it, he just couldn’t work out any way it would be right. Not only were you his subordinate, his rookie, you were nearly twenty years his junior too. You shouldn’t be wasting the prime of your life with some old man, so he cut off any hope of being more than a mentor to you.

About a year after he’d taken you on, the two of you were sent on that mission in Texas. It was simple, standard, routine. You and Chris were simply there to assist local police with the aftermath of a bioterror attack. Both of you were in the transport vehicle on the way to the site, and this was a rare occasion where he was pretty calm. He wasn’t tense or anxious, didn’t have any other motive than getting in and getting out. He was just enjoying the ride and watching your pretty face soak up the sunlight beaming through the window.

What he hadn’t been briefed on was the DSO’s involvement in the case. More specifically, a certain DSO agent’s presence. Apparently he’d been in the area on unrelated business and had been ordered to stop by in case your team needed assistance.

The two of you got out of the car and wandered through the remnants of the event. At first, Chris was happy to see him. It’d been a while, and he seemed to be in a better place than the last time they’d met. You seemed happy to see him too despite the fact that you’d never met before. Right then, Chris should’ve known it was over.

“Who’s that?” you asked with more interest than he felt was appropriate, leaning closer his muscular frame to keep your tone hushed.

He glanced down at you and raised his eyebrows, initially amused with the way you almost seemed in awe.

“Leon Kennedy. He’s with the DSO. Probably just here for some backup,” he informed you.

You nodded, and as you padded along behind Chris, your eyes remained locked on the agent in front of you. If he hadn’t been wrapped around your finger, it would have been obvious to him that you were developing a little crush. You became so bashful around Leon. Smiling up at him, batting your eyelashes like a cartoon character, following him around the scene like a puppy.

At the time, Chris thought that you were simply intrigued by the prestige of the DSO. Looking back, he couldn’t believe how clueless he’d been.

It was only six weeks later that you came to his office to notify him you were transferring agencies.

“What do you mean transferring? I’ve been training you to work here. I need you here,” Chris said.

Your eyes had cast down. Your body appeared to shrink in on itself. “I know. The BSAA is important and all, and I’ll always be grateful for what I learned here. It’s just that Leon said…”

And those last two words were all Chris heard.

“Leon said? What’s he know? He met you one time. He’s gonna try and tell you that you’re a better fit for the DSO?” he asked, probably coming off more interrogating than concerned, “You’re perfect for what we do here. The Agency hasn’t had someone with your propensity for research and field work in years.”

All his reasons paled in comparison to the hearts you had in your eyes for Leon. Chris ended the day by signing off on your transfer and watching you pack up your desk. You gave him a hug and tearful words of goodbye before walking out the translucent doors of the BSAA building.

The next time he saw you was another two months after that. He had to bring some files over to the DSO building. The only thing he was looking forward to about it was seeing how his rookie was adapting to her new position. He wasn’t prepared for the sharp pain in his chest when he saw your new position was on Leon’s lap.

Your eyes had gone wide. You shot up off the other man’s thighs to try and act as if you two were merely two agents and nothing more. Chris wasn’t fooled, but he kept his composure even in the face of Leon’s obvious amusement. He had no real place to get mad at you. It’s not like you were throwing your career away; you still held a respectable position at a federal government agency. You hadn’t betrayed him either. The relationship between you and him had actually just been professional. He had no claim on you that could keep Leon away. The only thing Chris had to be angry about was the fact that you were going to spend the prime of your life with some guy over a decade older than you. It just wasn’t gonna be him.

***

The collection of lights down the road were getting closer now. You and Leon had settled down enough to make the last fifteen minutes of this trip bearable. Chris glances around the small, misty town the road was leading into. It was pretty desolate and old-fashioned. Everything was tinted orange from the dated street lamps lining the road. Buildings were mostly bricks except for the upcoming motel which looked primarily wooden. It would’ve been eerie if he wasn’t so exhausted.

He pulled into the parking lot of the place and stopped the car. Turning around in his seat to talk to you and Leon, he tries not to roll his eyes at how the younger man has you tucked to his side while you show him something on your phone.

Chris clears his throat. Leon’s eyes meet his, still smug from the earlier exchange. He can’t be mad though because you look up at him in earnest, ready to do what needs to be done.

“The target isn’t going to be passing through until tomorrow. How would the two of you feel about staying here for the night?” he asks.

Fortunately, you and Leon seem to want to rest for a while just as much as he does so there’s no pushback.

Chris steps out of the car into the brisk air. He heads across the way into the small lobby of the motel to grab a room. You and your boyfriend handle getting the small bags you were allowed to take on missions out of the car.

“Cold out here, baby,” Leon mumbles as he pulls you flush against his chest and plants some kisses down your neck.

“Mhm. And you’re making me shiver more,” you say as you still try to collect the bags.

He chuckles at your little joke and nips at the warm flesh of your throat. “Once we get in the room, I think I’ll be able to heat you up,” he says.

You giggle and squirm a bit in his hold as Chris comes back to the car. He’s stone faced, but for once on this trip, it isn’t due to you and Leon.

“They only have one room available,” he says flatly and holds up the small golden key.

Your face drops and Leon lets go of you.

“What do you mean they only have one room?” he asks, “Look at this place. It doesn’t even look like anyone’s even accidentally wandered through here in this century. How could they only have one room?”

“They said the others are closed for renovation,” Chris relays.

“Renovation for what? For the ghosts of people who stayed here the last time this place was actually full?” Leon continues.

“I don’t know, man. You wanna go in there and argue with the lady at the desk? She’s half deaf and in a great mood, I’m sure she’ll be open to hearing your concerns,” the older man says sarcastically, beginning to grow frustrated.

Their bickering continues as you glance around at your surroundings. It was cold, it was dark, and it really was starting to creep you out how empty this place was.

You carefully take Leon’s hand and give it a little tug.

“I’m really tired. Can we just deal with it for the night?” you ask him hopefully.

He looks over at you, the petty complaints seeping from his body when he hears your soft voice requesting something so simple.

He sighs and nods. “Yeah, sweetheart,” he says and kisses your forehead.

Chris is grateful for your intervention and scoops up the bags so you aren’t bothered with them. The three of you walk in line to your room.

The door creaks as your ex-mentor pushes it open. It’s pitch black inside until Leon reaches over and taps the light switch. Your eyes scan the small room. It wasn’t a horrible set up. The furniture was a little vintage to put it nicely, but it didn’t feel haunted. Two double beds sat against one wall while a ratty leather chair occupied the opposite corner. Besides that there was a dresser, an old tv that was shaped like a cube, and a small counter with a microwave and mini-fridge. Leon looks around with the same disinterest displayed on your face.

“Hey, at least there isn’t only one bed,” he jokes and slaps Chris’s shoulder.

The older man rolls his eyes and tosses his duffel onto the mattress closest to the door. You and your boyfriend follow suit. You tuck your bag neatly against the side of the dresser while he drops it on the floor next to the farther bed.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” Chris tells the both of you as he fishes some fresh clothes and toiletries out of his bag.

He gets two unconcerned nods in response, and that’s enough for him to head to the bathroom. As he’s shutting the door, he can already hear your giggling starting up again along with the creak of the mattress, presumably from Leon pulling you down onto it.

Turning on the water, he sighs deeply. The faucet was as old as everything else in the room. It whooshed and groaned before starting up and letting out some water. The stream was hot and even, so he guessed he couldn't complain too much. He sheds his clothes and steps in the shower that was too small for him. The confined area didn’t act as much as a reprieve for him. His head is about three or four inches too tall for where the showerhead was angled. The slick curtain clings to the part of his bicep that stuck out against it.

It felt like a physical manifestation of how the next twelve hours would feel.

Being in the room next to you and Leon would’ve been bad enough. He’d have to hear you two going at it for hours like there was no tomorrow, but at least he’d be alone. He wouldn’t have to repress his grimaces or hide his wistful exhales. No one would have to know how shameful he looked when he felt himself getting hard over the way you whined and mewled for the other agent.

Now you two wouldn’t be going at it, but he’d have to be in the room clouded by both of your desires to do it. He’d have to watch the lingering looks and hear the little hitches in your breaths. He’d see whatever cute little pajamas wore and the way you curled up to Leon beneath the covers. He’d witness how peaceful your face looked while you slept in another man’s arms.

He’d honestly just prefer to be forced to listen to the sounds of your headboard banging against the wall all night.

But he pushes those thoughts away to finish up washing himself. His large hands guide the shampoo out of his hair and glide the washcloth over his muscular form. The steam starting to rise helps to calm him a little.

He isn’t in there for much longer before he shuts the water off and steps out of the shower to dry off. He wraps a towel around his waist, letting the cloth hang on hips just below his happy trail and v-line. His reflection gazes back at him through the fog on the mirror as he rubs a towel over his head and dries his hair.

In an effort to be considerate, he dresses in the bathroom. Gray sweats cover his lower half while a loose t-shirt adorns his chest. He makes sure everything in the bathroom is back in place before heading back out there, hopefully to just get some sleep and not be bothered by his temporary roommates.

That isn’t meant to be though. As soon as he steps back into the main portion of the room, he’s greeted by the sight of Leon’s hand down your shorts and your lips locked together in a flurry of kisses. He’s frozen in place for a moment, watching how Leon’s knuckles move underneath the fabric between your legs. Though a moment later, he remembers how he should be reacting.

“Come the fuck on,” he says and brings his hand to his face in frustration.

Your eyes widen, and your head snaps up. Leon lazily glances in his direction. Chris looks back at the pair of you, thinking you’d had enough time to readjust. What really enrages him now is that Leon’s hand was still where it was. You have to grab his wrist and pull it away.

“I’m so sorry, Chris,” you apologize without another thought, “We got distracted and didn’t hear the water shut off. I’m so-”

He doesn’t even look at you though. He’s locked in a stare with the other man in the room.

“Grow the fuck up, Leon,” he says, his tone deadly serious, “I’ve had enough of this shit. You’re acting like a fucking high schooler. Like a dog with a bone.”

You go silent and look down with guilt. He would’ve felt bad if he wasn’t so fed up. To make matters worse, Leon merely rolls his eyes.

“Jesus, calm down,” he says, “You’re acting like you just walked in on a porno or something. You’ve never seen two people making out?”

“Leon, shut up,” you say, keeping your voice hushed as if Chris couldn’t hear you from a small distance of ten feet. Your boyfriend doesn’t even acknowledge you though.

“That’s not what it’s about, and you know that. I don’t give a shit if the two of you want to make out till your lips are blue. Do it on your own time. I don’t wanna have to deal with the two of you slobbering all over each other while I’m trying to do my job,” he says with a glare.

“That’s not what this is about either, and you know it,” the younger man retorts.

“Leon, just give it up!” you plead. He shoots you a look though that makes you react like a scolded puppy.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Chris asks incredulously as he crosses his arms.

Your boyfriend almost laughs in his face. He sits up, looking at him with a more pointed gaze. “You don’t care about what I’m doing. You’re pissed off because I’m doing it with her,” he taunts.

Somehow the look on Chris’s face darkens further.

“Alright, man. I’m sure that’s what it is. It’s not you just being an insecure dickhead like always,” he says, trying to sound dismissive as he walks to his own bed, “You're more immature than I thought.”

“Don’t try to act like it’s bullshit because I know it’s the truth. All the years I’ve known you, all the missions we’ve partnered on; this isn’t the first time you’ve seen me with a girl but you’ve never pitched a fit about it before,” Leon says.

Chris shakes his head, not dignifying the accusations with a response, but he won’t give it up.

“Also, you think I’m fucking stupid? You think I don’t see the way you’re looking at her? Undressing her with your eyes, laser focused every time she bends over? I think if she gave you the go ahead, you wouldn’t even hesitate to steal her away from me,” he says.

You notice as they argue that in contrast to the genuine aggravation on Chris’s face, Leon’s words come from somewhere else. Almost as if he’s enjoying calling him a liar, poking and prodding at the other man to provoke a reaction.

Chris looks directly at him now as if he’s ready to lunge in a moment’s notice.

“Shut your mouth. You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says.

“Tell me then. Tell me how it is.”

That makes the older man pause. Of course Leon was right, but under no circumstances would he make that apparent.

“She had a bright future ahead of her, and look what you’ve done. She’s the best either one of the agencies has had in years, and you keep her in the palm of your hand like she’s a barbie doll!” he exclaims.

He sees the flicker of hurt on your face and knows he fucked up, but he could apologize later. He continues speaking to try and temporarily rectify his slip up.

“She’s too good for you, Leon,” he says simply, sighing and sitting down on his bed.

You see genuine emotion flash in your boyfriend's eyes. Chris struck a chord, picking at a very real insecurity Leon held. But he wanted to win this confrontation too, so he wouldn’t let that be known. Instead, he beckons you to him with a languid wave of his hand.

“C’mere, baby.”

Chris rolls his eyes, thinking Leon was gonna swoop in to comfort you for the way your feelings had been hurt. You waddle across the mattress on your knees and plop down between his legs, your back against his chest. His hands sweep over your stomach, soothingly caressing your skin.

“She might be too good for me, but you’re pissed off because she’s too good for you too,” he says.

“Leon, stop,” you whisper. Tomorrow was going to be awkward enough as is. He didn’t need to make it any worse.

Chris glances up at the two of you but looks down again quickly, not wanting to see the way the other man’s hands moved on your body.

“You think I’m the bad guy. That I’m corrupting your innocent little rookie,” Leon mocks, “But tell me you wouldn’t take my place if you could.”

“I wouldn’t,” he mumbles instantaneously.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me. Tell me that if she was actually interested in you, that you wouldn’t have taken her in your arms as fast as you could. When she was prancing around the BSAA, looking up at you with stars in her eyes, tell me you didn’t want her,” your boyfriend challenges.

Chris looks up at the both of you. His expression is hard to read. It’s some mixture of hurt and relief that you’re unfamiliar with.

“I didn’t,” he maintains.

Leon’s hand continues trailing on your tummy up and down. His fingers coast in between your breasts, causing you to shiver, but everyone’s so wrapped up in the conflict that you choose not to say anything.

“That’s a shame because I’m pretty sure your little rookie had a crush on you,” he says quietly.

“Don’t joke around like that Leon,” Chris scoffs at the same time as your eyes widen and you start to tell your boyfriend to be quiet.

“Shh shh shh,” he hushes you and places a small kiss on your temple, “You’re giving yourself away, sweetheart.”

You look down and the man across from you just looks confused. Leon smirks at the both of you before resuming.

“C’mon man. Don’t tell me you couldn’t see it. She’s a terrible liar, and I think she had it pretty bad for you. I just came along and pulled her attention elsewhere,” he says, teasing you while redirecting his words to Chris.

Your face was heating up fast as Leon aired out a confession you’d made to him on a night after too many drinks. Chris slowly returned his gaze back to the two of you. Instead of bothering with Leon, he looked into your eyes this time.

“Is that true?” he asks.

Every limb on your body feels frozen up, but you manage to force your head into nodding. You hear Leon chuckle from behind you, which only intensifies how awkward you feel.

“I liked you at first when I first started working at the BSAA. For the first few months,” you begin to explain. It’s not like anything you said would help the situation at all, but it still felt like you were supposed to offer something.

He continues staring at you, and you honestly can’t tell what’s running through his mind. All you can think is that he looks like he’s in pain. Meanwhile, your boyfriend’s hands caress over your skin in a pattern they’d developed.

“You were just so nice and understanding with me-” you start. But you’re cut off by your sharp gasp when Leon’s hand slides under the waistband of your bottoms and into your panties.

“Leon!” you whimper as fast as his fingers find your clit. You grab his wrist and try to pull it away like you’d done earlier, but when he didn’t want to be interrupted, he wouldn’t be. It wasn’t like you tried too hard anyways. You were still a little pent up from earlier, craving the pleasure that had been cut short.

“No, go on, sweetheart. Keep telling Chris how much you liked him. I know he wants to hear it,” he says lowly while his fingers toy with you.

“Leon,” Chris says firmly, trying to stand up for you. But fuck, if he didn’t want to keep watching your breath hitch and your hips squirm. Or your face getting pouty whenever his fingers stroked a certain way.

“Chris,” he says back, “Don’t act like you don’t wanna see. This might be your only chance.”

He smirks and kisses your temple again, rotating the pad of his middle finger over your clit. The motions draw little whines from you, and your eyes flutter. You keep them on Chris, looking into his own as you sink back into Leon’s chest.

“Go ahead, honey. Continue your story,” Leon prompts.

“You were so sweet- mm- and you taught me a lot and- ah- I don’t know it was just a little crush,” you say timidly.

Chris watches you. He doesn’t move at all for fear of bringing attention to how fast his cock has hardened.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he breathes.

“Cause you were my boss,” you say, “I- Leon fuck- I didn’t wanna put you in a bad position.”

His chest feels like it’s turned to stone as he takes in these revelations. It’s hard not to let the regret take over. The realization that he’d been much closer to everything he’d wanted threatened to consume him if he dwelled on it. That on top of the fact that he was hearing all this while you whimpered another man’s name between your words had his mind scrambled.

“It wouldn’t have put me in a bad position, sweetheart,” he says, attempting to sound normal about the situation.

Your lips curve further down, as if you feel guilty for the mess of emotions building inside him. Behind you, Leon’s mouth makes the opposite expression.

“What happened to not wanting her, Redfield?” he teases.

“Shut up,” Chris says. Even if he wasn’t the one pleasuring you, this was a moment for you and him.

His eyes are locked on you, trying to drink in everything about the vision of beauty in front of him. Leon’s warning that this could be the only time he gets to see it echoes in his mind. He doesn’t know how he’ll survive if this is the only time. He doesn’t think he could ever get enough of this. The way your lashes flutter and your eyes look dreamy. How your soft thighs tremble while spread open. The little movements of your hips rocking your ass back and forth against the man behind you.

Why couldn’t that man be him?

It was the most blissful form of torture he’d experienced. He tried to tell himself that even if he just got to watch you cum, it’d be worth it. It’d be better to share this unforgettable sliver of time with you than to have nothing special at all.

He tries to refocus himself back on enjoying the view of your shorts sliding off your legs rather than mourn the relationship he’d lost out on. It was just nearly impossible to avoid envisioning himself and the other man swapped. He had imagined you in his lap like that for months before you even knew the name Leon Kennedy.

Chris’s mind is actually drawn back to the action in front of him once Leon’s got your shorts off, and your panties are fully exposed. The crotch is soaked through. He can see the way the fabric sticks to your center, only peeling away to make space for the nimble fingers working beneath it.

“Leon…” you mewl and tilt your head back against his shoulder.

“I know, princess,” he murmurs, “You’re doing such a good job showing off for Chris. I’m proud of you. You’re really making it worth his while.”

“Thank you,” you whimper.

Leon grins at your display of submission and rewards you with a gentle pinch to your clit. You yelp, and Chris’s cock jerks inside his pants. His bulge is completely visible to everyone in the room by now, no way of sitting could hide that. Despite his arousal, he still had questions.

“Am I the reason you left?” he decides to ask you.

He watches you snap out of the throes of lust and look at him. You hesitate before answering.

“No,” you say softly, “I left to be with Leon.”

It feels like a dagger straight to his heart. He watches any chance of salvaging you as his own die before his very eyes, those words acting as the nails in the coffin. It shows on his face too because he can see the guilt replacing the desire in your eyes. Even Leon’s face flashes with some sympathy. He tilts his head towards you again and nips at the shell of your ear.

“I think you might have hurt Chris’s feelings, baby,” he chides lovingly. His hand then leaves your panties and goes with his other one to your waist. Boosting you to your feet, he looks up at you and taps your ass. “Maybe you should help him feel better. Show him some of what I taught you.”

There’s only a brief pause on your part. You stand between the two beds, between the two men, looking back and forth. You weren’t against the idea at all, it just didn’t seem real. You never imagined this happening in your wildest dreams.

You drop to your knees and approach Chris from the ground, positioning yourself between his legs and looking up at him.

“You don’t have to,” he says, his tone quiet and genuine.

You reach up, sliding your hand up his thigh to palm at his bulge.

“I know,” you respond.

In the simplest of terms, you were still very much attracted to Chris. Your relationship with Leon had extinguished the torch you carried for him down to a small flame, but on a physical and instinctual level, you still wanted him bad. Especially having not cum yet after being teased twice. Your fingers unzip his pants and begin pulling them down, eager to get his cock out.

In a way, you were pretty sure you loved him. Not in the way you love Leon. You knew that. You didn’t dream of love and marriage and the baby carriage with Chris. But for so long, he’d been your safe space. Amongst the violence and horrors in the world of Bioterrorism, your mentor had always been there for you to hold your hand.

You yank his pants down to his ankles, and his dick flops out against his thigh. Your eyes widen slightly. It made sense for it to be big just like everything else on him was, but the sight had you drooling. It was thick and long, from one look you could only imagine how it would stretch you out.

Your fingers wrap around the length, feeling its warmth. The veins that sprawl across it pulse with desire for you. He moans quietly with only one stroke. Your hand pumps up and down tentatively as you spit down onto it for some lubrication.

No one in the room is in the mood to be teased tonight, so you lean in and flick your tongue against the tip. Another groan bubbles from Chris’s lips and you can feel Leon’s lecherous gaze on you the entire time. You lap at the head some more and keep working your fist up and down.

You’re either very talented or Chris is very needy for you, because it only takes a handful of gentle licks before precum beads at the top. His eyes are blown out and locked on you as you suckle the swollen tip between your lips and bob your head. Your mouth is the perfect combination of warm and wet and soft. You cup his balls and give them a gentle massage while working your magic.

He reaches down and pets your head as you work. His head snaps up when he hears the other man speak to him.

“How’s it feel? As good as you imagined?” he asks.

“Better,” Chris moans.

His breaths enter and exit his lungs in deep puffs. This truly was better than he could’ve imagined. Everything about you was beyond the capabilities of human imagination. Your gags were so soft and tender. They were precious despite their inherent lewd nature. You looked up at him with glossy eyes, maintaining eye contact most of the time. That was something he’d taught you. Your first days of work you were always looking down at your shoes or right through him at the wall. He’d been the one to tell you eye contact was important. It was the most baseline form of connection.

You take your mouth off Chris’s shaft with a small pop. A string of saliva dangles between you and his cock, but you quickly destroy it when your lips smoosh against the flushed skin. You kiss the tip over and over, savoring the taste of precum it brings.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, not caring if he heard or not.

But he does, and his gaze softens. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, rookie,” he says back.

Leon decides not to interrupt the exchange or tease Chris about the old nickname for you. He had no genuine ill will toward the other man. That plus his own cock was rising to attention, and he was more interested in palming it through his jeans.

“You're such a good girl. You don’t need to apologize for anything,” Chris continues to coo at you as you take his length back into your mouth.

His eyes crinkle as they shut. He doesn’t want to cum yet just in case there was the chance for anything more. You’re too taken with servicing him to notice that you should maybe slow down. Lucky for the both of you, Leon intervenes.

“Ah ah, baby. Don’t take Chris out of the fun too quick,” he tuts, reaching forward to guide your head back.

You pull off obediently and lean back onto your knees. Chris sighs at the reprieve but nearly blows his load when his eyes refocus on you gazing up at him with spit and precum on your lips.

“I think Chris needs a break, angel. You know how good that mouth of yours is,” he says and pets your head before looking up to the older man, “You want a little taste of her while you cool off?”

It’s like time slows to a halt in the world of Chris Redfield. The heavens part and the words he just heard are the gateway to paradise. He stares at Leon, almost in the same disbelief you had been in minutes ago.

“You’re cool with that?” he says, trying to seem casual.

“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t,” he says and shrugs, “Plus, I think your rookie deserves a treat for her performance.”

“Of course she does. She’s probably feeling pretty needy by now too,” Chris says in return, beginning to feel more comfortable with the situation at hand.

“I’ll even let you pick, man. You want her spread out on the bed or riding your face?” he asks.

You look between the both of them as they speak before stopping on Chris as he makes the decision.

“Riding my face. Want her to smother me,” the older man says as he looks down at you with his familiar smile.

Leon glances down at you too. “You heard him, baby,” he says.

You return to your feet and approach the bed closer to the window. Chris discards his pants completely and removes his shirt before lying back. He pats his chest, signaling for you to climb up. As you move closer, so does your boyfriend. He rounds the bed and sits on the other side of the mattress to watch the pair of you.

You crawl over Chris’s muscular body, looking down at him for a moment when your faces are level. You then scoot up more so you’re basically sitting on his chest. You weren’t shy about sitting on someone’s face necessarily. You’d done it for Leon about a dozen times before, but Chris was new and you didn’t know how he liked to do it. From the way he guided your hips higher up though, you could already tell he was a little more gentle than your boyfriend.

He pulls you up until your pussy is hovering over his face. Then he takes a few moments to just admire it. It was cute just like every other part of you. One of his fingers drags over your flesh and pulls on the puffy folds, showing off your pretty little clit and slick entrance.

“Don’t hold back for me, rookie. I want to taste all of you,” he says as he looks up at you.

You return his look and nod before he pulls you lower by your hips onto his face. A squeak flies from your lips when his tongue makes contact with your cunt. Leon chuckles as he watches the two of you with lustful eyes. He’s working on undressing himself now.

Chris’s tongue takes a long swipe from the bottom to the top of your pussy, taking in as much of you as he can. Right now you’re all he can smell. Every breath brings him more of you. Your taste overwhelms him too. It’s the way he wants to live. You whine as his lips engulf your clit to suck on.

“Already making such pretty noises,” Leon teases, “Is Chris doing it how you like, sweet girl?”

You nod, your eyes connecting with those of your boyfriend’s for a moment. He kneels on the bed to be closer to you. His hand comes up to stroke your cheek.

“Good. You deserve it, baby. Just look at you. So precious. No wonder he’s crazy about you too,” Leon murmurs as he leans in and kisses you deeply.

His lips move with yours as you moan into his mouth. You begin rocking your hips back and forth on Chris’s face to get more of the stimulation he’s providing you with. His tongue flattens over your cunt and presses against it in stripes, making broad strokes that spark euphoria in your belly each time. His hands lock onto your hips to keep you still enough that you’re not interrupting his devouring of you.

The constant pleasure to your core makes you lightheaded. You would be swaying if not for the two men’s combined efforts to keep you up right. Your kisses become sloppier, and to alleviate it, Leon ducks down to kiss your neck instead. He peppers your skin with hickeys, his possessive nature shining through a bit.

“My pretty girl, doing so good for us right now. Taking it like a pro,” he whispers teasingly as his hands cup your breasts and give them a tender squeeze.

His lips travel down to where his hands are. He plants a few kisses on the swell of your chest. The sight of your nipples perking up for him would never get old.

“Sweet baby, everything about you is perfect. Don’t know how Chris resisted and never got a taste,” he says as he sucks one of your nipples into his mouth.

Your head falls back and you shudder. Two mouths on you, both licking and sucking in harmony. It made you moan loud enough that you would’ve certainly got a noise complaint if any of the other rooms were occupied.

“Is that for me or Chris, babydoll?” Leon asks and smirks up at you.

“Both,” you whimper, “Both of you are making me feel so good.”

“Not picking favorites, hm?” he goads you further.

“Can’t think enough to pick one right now,” you say simply before another whine leaves you. You didn’t want any more drama. At least not before you came.

“Oh, is your head getting all foggy, baby?” he coos.

“Mhm,” you whimper and nod.

On your lower half, Chris keeps his mouth firmly attached to your pussy. He’s pretty sure you already have him addicted, and you haven’t even cum yet. He’s licking with all the dedication in the world as if this task was his life’s purpose, the action he was put on this very earth to complete.

“Tastes so fucking good,” he grunts into you as he continues open mouth kissing your cunt, “Prettiest little pussy I’ve ever seen.”

Leon smiles at the compliment, almost as if it was partially intended for him by virtue of being your boyfriend.

“She’s loving you, Chris. You’ve got her brain melting out her ears,” Leon purrs while rubbing your back soothingly, steadying you from the tremors that rack your body, “Pretty baby’s probably gonna cum all over your face soon.

When he hears that, the man below you pulls your hips down even harder and locks you onto his mouth. He works even harder to please you, relishing in the way your noises grow louder and more strained.

You give Leon puppy eyes as your hand darts out for his. Your fingers squeeze his palm so tight, he’s sure there will be little red crescents on the skin when you let go.

“What is it, sweetheart? You need to hold my hand?” he croons. He gently squeezes your hand back and moves his face to your neck to press a few more kisses there. “I’ve got you, baby. You cum whenever you want, I’m not gonna let go. Show Chris how pretty you are when you cum.”

Your teeth dig into your lip and your hips quiver violently.

“Fuck Leon- I just- I- Chris,” you stutter out. Your brain rushes to latch onto something, but it can’t seem to get a lock on anything.

“Don’t gotta say anything, angel. Just cum all over my face,” Chris commands from between your thighs.

“You heard him, baby. No thinking. Just let yourself feel good. That’s what we both wanna see,” he whispers and brings your hand to his lips.

Your lips part to say something, but you decide to just listen. You grind your hips down against Chris’s mouth, gasping as the euphoria paramounts within you. Your hips roll even faster as you feel release within your grasp. You’re closing in on it when you shriek and nearly double over with the shattering feeling of your peak.

“There we go, that’s it,” Leon chuckles softly, “Show him what I get to see every night. My favorite sight in the whole world.”

Your body moves as if it’s possessed when you cum. Your back arches into a curve with supernatural speed. Your eyes are screwed shut while your mouth is wide open. The younger man next to you grins while the older man below you continues to make out with your pussy, lapping up every drop of you that he could.

When you start to come down, he lets up, knowing Leon had more in store from you. He lets your hips go, and you basically topple over onto the mattress. You inhale and exhale deeply as the cool motel sheets rest against your cheek.

Chris’s eyes are hooded from lust, the effects of the most erotic experience in his life lingering. His cock is fully hard, standing up and aching for more of your touch. Yet in a way he’s satisfied, having just made you cum, tasted the sweetest part of you, and heard your most vulnerable sounds.

Leon’s undressed on the bed, the only one of the three of you whose mind didn’t feel hazy with clouds of desire. He tugs on his stiff cock a few times as he decides what to do. His eyes flit between your crumpled up form and the other man lying on his back.

“Chris, you wanna hold her for a little bit? Have her sit in your lap?” he asks.

The older man almost felt pathetic at how eager he was to play along and say yes. Almost. Because he still does that. He nods and sits up, leaning back against the headboard.

The next move is getting you up. Your boyfriend guides you to where Chris is, and he then helps you into his lap. Your mind was coming back to normal, and you were looking up at Leon with adoration while you melted against Chris’s broad chest. You nuzzle it gently, feeling its warmth and plush quality. His thick arms encase you, making sure you feel secure.

Leon pulls you on your hips to get you a bit lower where he has easier access.

“I’m not gonna let you fuck her this time. I wanna show you how it’s done first,” Leon teases as he slots himself between your legs.

In any other instance, this would’ve pissed Chris off. Everything about it would’ve left him disappointed and annoyed. But now any negative emotion is overshadowed by two words.

This time.

Because this time implies there will be a next time. And maybe even a time after next time. Another time for him to feel his cock inside you. Another time for him to make you cum on his fingers or watch you ride him. Some of his hopes spring back to life.

Internally, his heart is soaring. He kisses your hairline carefully as Leon slides his tip between your folds that are sticky with arousal. He teases himself with the feeling only a few times before nudging the tip inside.

Your head falls back against Chris’s chest and you moan. He kisses your temple and caresses your sides as if you need to be soothed. As if this isn’t the dick you’ve been taking nightly for the last few months.

Chris’s own length is rock solid against your back. Every small change in your facial expression or rise in pitch of your voice sends blood rushing to it, the threat of cumming untouched ever present.

Leon steadily pushes in until he’s buried all the way inside and you’re nice and filled to the hilt.

“So fucking tight. You gotta feel it, Chris. You thought she tasted good? Just wait till you feel her,” he grunts.

“I bet. I could tell from how cute her pussy was. She was clenching around nothing the whole time. I’m sure she loves to squeeze down anytime she’s got a cock in her,” Chris whispers

More hope was rising in him that this wouldn’t be a one night only thing, and it took all his strength not to smile like an idiot. His knuckles move down your cheek lovingly as he speaks to you and holds you while Leon thrusts. Your body rocks gently with the momentum, pushing you against Chris’s cock each time.

“She does love to get all tight. Just wants to suck me in so I can never leave,” Leon says and holds your thighs to start thrusting harder.

“Such a needy girl. I should’ve known, rookie,” Chris murmurs to you.

“It just feels so good,” you whine, “It’s not my fault.”

“Oh I know it’s not, precious,” Leon mocks, “Your head is always full of nothing but air when I’m around. It probably just gets worse with Chris here.”

You whine in protest and squirm a little, unknowingly grinding your ass on Chris’s cock and coaxing a moan from him. Leon’s dick hits deeper too, bringing you heightened pleasure.

“You’re not an airhead, baby. You’re a sweet girl. My rookie. You just wanna feel good, hm?” Chris says teasingly.

You nod along, and from the look on his face, Leon is amused, pleased with the dynamic Chris opened up.

“No one said she isn’t sweet. Just that she goes a little dumb as soon as she’s got my dick in her,” he teases.

He sighs and his eyes roll back for a moment as you clamp around you. He keeps rocking in and out, enjoying the wet sounds coming from each one of his movements. He also can’t get enough of your mewls or the way you're clutching one of Chris’s forearms right now.

“Maybe he’s right about that. You just work so hard all the time. You need something that can calm you down,” Chris says and squeezes his arms around you, “You’re still so precious.”

You look up at Chris with lovey dovey eyes, remembering why you’d been so enamored with him in the first place. He talked to you like you were the sweetest thing to walk this earth and made you believe it. He made you feel cared for in a way that was indescribable. Pure feeling.

“Yeah you are,” Leon grunts, “And you can go as dumb as you want right now, baby. We’re both here taking care of you. I’m sure Chris loves holding you while all you can do is whine for more.”

“That’s right. I love seeing you like this, knowing you’re taken care of,” he whispers, “And you know I’ve always got you. I’ll never let my rookie go.”

All the words are overwhelming. You pant and writhe more in Chris’s grasp.

“You getting close again, babydoll?” Leon asks, knowing your tells.

You whimper and nod quickly.

“Good. I am too,” he grunts.

He starts working himself into you harder. The momentum from each snap of his hips keeps you rubbing against Chris’s shaft and working him closer to the edge as well. All three of you are panting, muscles tensing up in some way as the end approaches.

You stare into Leon’s eyes for a moment before rotating your head and looking up at Chris. Both sets of eyes are fixated on you. The overflow of attention is the final strike your body needs to start convulsing with release. The older man’s arms tighten around you, keeping you close as your skin heats up and your noises grow whinier. Your boyfriend keeps a steel grip on your hips, his fingers stroking back and forth.

“That’s my girl,” Leon grunts, “Let it out, baby.”

He moans and lets his head fall back as he feels himself hurtling towards the finish line.

“My rookie. Just perfect, honey,” Chris whispers, “I’m so proud of you.”

The words nearly triple your pleasure and you continue to ride out the high as Leon finally cums and shoots it inside you. He nearly growls as he pounds into you, completely emptying himself. All the rutting is enough for Chris to cum too. He spurts his hot seed against the small of your back, holding onto you with all he has as his hips jerk upwards and he imagines it’s him buried inside you.

Leon’s the first to get his bearings back. He pulls out slowly, letting you adjust to the feeling of emptiness. He then rolls to the side of you and Chris, watching the final moments with the other man. You lie on his chest with your eyes drooping, your chest heaving as you catch your breath. His hand lazily runs down your side. He savors your warmth on his chest. Almost subconsciously, it feels like you really are his in this moment.

That is until you regain your composure and sit up. You hop up for a moment to clean off the mess on your back. He knew you’d have to, but the sight still makes Chris’s heart ache.

As you return to the bed, you give your boyfriend a dizzy smile and crawl over to curl up at his side. He rubs your back and pecks your forehead. For the two of you, it’s like a regular night. Chris isn’t sure where he fits in this anymore. Should he just move to the bed you two had claimed earlier? Should he make the two of you get up?

He’s running through solutions in his mind when your hand comes out and grabs his wrist. You’re looking up at him with some sort of longing in your eyes.

“Stay with us,” you say.

It was softer than he ever heard from you, different from when you introduced yourself on your first day of work or made a mistake on a mission. It was a new kind of shyness that just made him want more from you. He stares at you and contemplates the idea. Leon raises his eyebrows and gives him a look, giving him the silent ok he needed to slowly lower himself to the mattress.

He shuts off the light first, leaving the motel room in darkness except for the glow of the yellow street lamps shining through the window. His head hits the pillow, and he drapes an arm over you. You’re still leaning into Leon for the most part which he makes no move to interfere with.

The three of you don’t say anything for the rest of the night. Silence permeates the atmosphere of your shared space. The events of the last hour run through each of your minds in different ways. The mission had taken a back seat for now. It could return to prominence tomorrow once the mental dust had settled.

Leon’s eyes flutter shut first, and his deep, even breaths of sleep follow. You’re barely awake with your cheek squished against his pectoral muscle. Chris watches you, the outline of your face illuminated from the faint light outside. He wonders if this really will be the only time with you. If his taste of heaven will remain that, a sample of what he could have had. He chooses to not believe that and drive himself crazy.

He shuts his eyes too and brings his face to nestle against the crook of your neck. His breath hits your neck when he sighs. In the abyss that is the motel room, he feels your hands come up to rest on his arm.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy imagine #resident evil x reader #resident evil imagines #resident evil smut #resident evil x you #chris redfield x reader #chris redfield x y/n #chris redfield x you #chris redfield imagine #chris redfield smut

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monstersflashlight · 6 months ago

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Hi :) Uhmm ... I like how you write, these past few days it become my obsession and joy. ( I am so sorry, I am so bad at giving compliments!)

Uhmmm .... If I may be so bold I would like to share an idea? I just thought about absolutely cocky and arogant male, womanizer Cerberos. The reader has love/hate relationship towards him. Well and after one wild party, he would corner reader and showed them his true form. And holding onto his word to rock reader´s world (quite literally)

Hi! I'm so glad you enjoy my content, it means the world. Sorry for the long wait, adult life sucks so bad. Also, I added the anon question, hope you don’t mind. The idea that Cerberus is the one you hit on when tipsy sounds so cute to let it pass. I took the liberty to make cerberus a type of monster, so they’re just one of them and not THE cerberus, you know. I imagine they’re like a werewolf but with three heads, and like not human form, just a wolfy-guy with three heads. Each head talks separately, but in this there’s no difference between them to not make it hard to follow, but I think it’s quite good. Hope you enjoy! <3

Three heads are better than one

Cerberus (they/them) x fem!reader || fingering, public sex, dirty talk

When a cerberus started to work on your law firm, you two hit it the wrong way from the start. You were a top tier lawyer and they couldn’t understand that a human could be better than them. Three heads think better than one, how could a puny human like you be better than them? But you were, and it infuriated them. But it also fueled your banter with so much sexual tension you could taste it. But you didn’t do anything about it because everyone at the office knew they were a womanizer, they had a new girl every few days and never dated anyone. They were just there for the sex. Or that’s what everyone at the office said. But dang you wanted to hit it off with them so bad, you needed to know what their three mouths tasted like, how would it be to have three brains focused on your pleasure… That sounded delicious in the best possible way.

So when you catch them and their friends in a bar, after a few drinks, you think it’s time. You approach them and their friends at the end of the bar, ready to do something about your pent up sexual tension. You two have been dancing around each other for what feels like ages, and your tipsy brain thinks the best moment to do something about it is right now, right there. When you get closer, you can hear their friends making fun of them and elbowing them as they all giggle, pointing at you. You add a little bit of movement to your hips and hope it doesn’t look too ridiculous.

“Hi darling, how’s your night going?” You touch their pecs as all three of their heads focus on you. You blush, but keep caressing their torso over their shirt, you squeeze a bit and they slap your hand softly.

“Human, get lost.” You can’t understand how their voice can sound so harsh and so sexy at the same time, you can feel your panties melting. Maybe the alcohol has a part to blame, drinking always made you horny, and today is not different.

You pout, bating your lashes in your best puppy look. “Why are you always so mean?” Their three heads blink slowly at you, almost took out balance by your question.

“What? We’re not mean, you are just too soft,” they answer. You scoff, if they want to play that game you can give as better as receive. Uh, receiving… That’s exactly what you want. In a sexy way, against a wall if possible. They look like they can lift you up and fuck you.

“I’m not soft. I’m human. And you are mean.” You think you heard him say something about how they’re already aware that you are human, but you aren’t sure, the bar is really loud and the world is spinning around you.

“You need to go away before we do something all of us would regret.” Their central head is the one doing the talking, but the other two nod along.

“I don’t want to.” You know you sound bratty and entitled, but you are horny and everyone says they’re a womanizer, why are they not womanizing you? “You don’t like humans, is that it?”

“Trust me, they like humans. They like them reeeeeal good.” One of their friends says behind them. All of them laugh, but your coworkers are looking at you like they are going to dig a hole through your body just with their eyes.

“Come with me.” They sound fed up, like they are going to scold you and it’s going to feel awful. But your tipsy brain doesn’t process it fully, so you follow them without questioning. They lead you to the back of the bar, the hallway that leads to the bathroom. The music is softer there, you can listen to your own brain better.

They push you against the wall, they body pressing against your front. You shiver, anticipation filling your guts and their low growl making you whimper. “We can smell how wet you are, we can almost taste your desire. You are too tempting for your own good, honey.” You think the pet name was condescending every time they used it before, but at that moment, it sounds like a caress.

Their hands found the edge of your skirt as they grab your leg and position it against their hip. You are open and exposed, your skirt riding up and your soaked panties in the open. You whine again. You never felt as dirty and naughty as you do now, it’s maddening. They cress the outside of your thigh as they rock their hips against you, letting you feel their cock through your panties. You moan loudly.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, please.” You know you’d be embarrassed beyond belief about it the next morning, but right now you don’t care. You can only think about how good their finger feels inside of you, and how much you wish that was their cock. When they move your panties to the side and push one finger inside your needy pussy, you cry out.

“Not here, little human.” They press against your G-spot, making your knees buckle under you. They grab your waist and holds you pressed against the wall as you pant. “If tomorrow you feel like this again, then we can talk.” They said, their fingers slowly thrusting into you.

“What?” You ask, trying to focus on their words and not the wonders they’re doing on your pussy. Their thumb rolls over your clit and you have to bite on your tongue to stop yourself from screaming. It feels so good. You start to move your hips at the rhythm of their thrusts.

“We’ve been waiting forever to get your attention, We’re not wasting it on a quick fuck on a bar.” Their voice sounds serious and you feel confused as fuck. What are they talking about? They hate you, they always pick stupid fights with you over the silliest things.

“What?” You ask, trying to grab their hand but holding onto their shoulders, moving your hips faster. The rational part of you is not present, only your whore-ish part.

“We’ve been waiting to ask you out but we thought you wouldn’t want us.” They mutter that under their breath, you barely catch it.

“What?” You ask, once more. Are they saying they like you? They wanted to ask you out? But… But the gossip. They said they didn’t date, you never saw them with anybody, just random hookups. “What?” You ask again.

“You… We… We have a bit of a human kink with you, okay? You are so soft and so pretty. We can’t stop thinking about you. And then you get up in front of the judge and good lord do you look good. You look magnificent.” Their voice sounds amazed, like they are telling the truth and they truly like you. What the fuck?

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Your question is lost when their thumb starts rubbing against your clit. You think they answer something, but your brain is fuzzy with pleasure. “Stop touching my clit I can’t focus.” You whisper, trying to look at them and see if they aren’t lying. There’s no way they want you, is it?

“What if we don’t want you to focus? What if we want you coming around our fingers until you are crying out how much you love it? How much you like being stretched in public by us?” You moan so loud they have to cover your mouth with their unoccupied hand. “Shhh, be quiet. You don’t want us to get caught, do you?” Your pussy involuntarily clenches around their fingers. “Oh, naughty girl, you do want to get caught. Does that excite you? Do you want everyone to see how improper you really are? You are such a good lawyer but then you part your legs for us in the back of the bar… Such a dirty, dirty woman.” You shiver, your juices flowing around their fingers. You’ve never been as turned on as you are right there, their fingers feel divine and you are so fucking close.

“Please…” Your plea sounds pathetic and you blush, but they just smirk at you, two of their heads attacking your neck at the same time. Feeling the two sets of mouths against your neck combined with the feel of their fingers moving inside of you is getting you so wet their hand is making filthy sounds.

“You are so wet for us, so soft. I bet you taste amazing. We are going to spend so much time licking you. Do you know what they say about cerberus?” You shake your head. “We give the best head because we have three of them. Do you want to feel three tongues against your pussy, honey? Do you want to be worshiped by three heads?” The image they are painting in your head is so good you want to open your legs and ask them to do it right there. But you are so close already, their fingers feel so fantastic inside of you.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant, rolling your hips. They accompany your movement, getting you almost to the edge.

“Are you going to come for us? Are you going to be a good woman and come around our fingers? We can’t wait to feel you around our dicks, bet you are going to feel better than any pussy we ever had. Our first human. Our only human. What are you gonna do, honey? Do you want to suck us off?” You nod eagerly, so close. “Of course you want to, you want to be a good little human for us.” You get the feeling them calling you human is doing more for them than for you. Their human kink is playing in your favor. “Come for us, human.” They whisper against your ear as the other two heads suck on your neck.

The combination of fingers and mouths makes your body shake uncontrollably against theirs, your orgasm so good you almost fall down. You can feel your juices dripping down and soaking your panties and their fingers. They take their fingers away and you watch in amazement as they raise their hand to lick it, all three of their heads getting some. You moan as aftershocks rock your body.

They put your panties back in place and slowly lower your leg. Your legs are shaky and you grab onto their arm. Three heads smile down at you, one of them looking specially smug. They pass an arm over your shoulders and help you walk out of the hallway. “Let us take you home.” They whisper, their hold on you so hard it feels wonderful. It feels so good you could fall asleep right there. They gave you the orgasm of your life and on top of it, they are sweet about it. You judged them so bad you feel like shit. You can always make it up to them at some point. You add it to your mental list of things to do in the morning, even though you know you won’t remember.

“There’s no need.” You try to argue, without any force behind your words. You really want to spend more time with them.

“We want to.” Their voice is final, you know that tone. That’s the tone they use in court, and you know you can’t win against it.

They drive you home as you fidget with your rings, nervous after what happened, after what they said. You want to run, to break the silence, but you are speechless. You don’t know what to say and the alcohol you had is kicking you really hard. You feel sleepy and tired, more than ready to go to bed.

They follow you to your house, opening your door and leading you to your bedroom where they help you get undressed. You think they are going to do something more, but they barely touch your naked body as they cover you with a blanket.

You feel three soft forehead kisses before they say: “We aren’t playing games with you, honey. We want to play with your pussy, yes, but not with your heart. We hope you give us a chance.” You nod, and try to answer, but your eyes are so heavy that you can’t keep them open, your brain shutting down.

When you wake up the next morning with a text saying: “We can’t wait to have you sucking our cock. And then we can go to dinner, we booked the fancy restaurant you like.” You giggle on your pillow and kick your legs. Yeah… That sounds like the start of a very fun game.

#cerberus #cerberus x reader #cerberus x human #monster #monster fucker #monster imagine #monster x human #teratophillia #monster boyfriend #monster x reader #terato #request #fem!human #banter

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julietsbody · 7 months ago

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KITTY KAT — art donaldson + reader : art has a tendency to show up late to your lessons.

tags: mdni, tennis lessons, coach!art donaldson, p in v sex, fingering, art is kind of an asshole, cheating (not on reader)

a/n: sorry to tashi… this goes out to my dear @murdrdocs

thirty minutes ago.

art donaldson was supposed to be here thirty minutes ago, your teeth grit against each other, foot tapping impatiently against the concrete floor below you.

art was a sweet guy, sure, but his time management was beyond infuriating. it almost made you feel like he thought himself above you, like you weren’t worth his time.

“one to talk,” you mumble to yourself, dragging your racket on the ground, “rich from the guy who was coached by his wife.”

ahem.

you spin around, and of course, he’s standing right there, looking the same as he always does. his dirty blonde hair was messed up and falling over his eyebrows, blue eyes, with a mix of brown, staring directly at you with an almost amused expression.

you blink at him, once, twice.

a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips, “sorry for being late.”

it sounds condescending, like he would never actually mean it, especially not after what he heard, it felt like a sort of karma for what you were previously saying about him.

and he knows that, of course he does, so he masks it with a sense of sweetness, one that would typically gaslight people into thinking they’ve been forgiven, but you know better.

you’ve been coached by art for a while now, and his little habits became far too predictable. this was odd, though, you couldn’t make out the glint in his eye, especially when you mumble a, “sorry, i didn’t mean—“

“let’s get started, yeah?” art cuts in, bitter, yet his voice still sounded like it was dipped in honeysuckle.

he whisks right past you with that same, tugged up smirk, he reeked of rich cologne and mint.

your lips press together and you silently, albeit ashamed, nod in agreement.

maybe silence will earn points back from your coach.

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🎾

silence did not earn anything.

art served hard, hit the ball hard, it was as if he wanted to make the ball break through your racket and hit you square in the face. he clearly took your miniscule words personally, and he was testing you, trying to break you down, to see how much you could take until your bones turned soft and you felt like giving up.

the first time you called a pause, art smiled, “don’t tell me you’re giving up.”

“pause,” you repeat through heaved breaths, sweat sticking to your skin underneath the relentless sun. art had that same playful look in his eyes that he always did, he knew that what he was doing was working, he knew that he was getting under your skin, and as cruel as it sounds, he really did enjoy it.

if you ever were to ask him about it, he’d just shrug and say it’s all a part of the practice, it always happens in tennis, especially professional, he’s just preparing you. but deep down, he really just wanted to say that he was doing it for those reasons but for his own personal pleasures, karma comes in many forms, but art picks the harshest form first.

he watches you drink water with a desperate urgency, stifling his own chuckles, “you sure you’re okay?”

“‘m fine,” you speak after gulping down the last drop, finally satisfied, “let’s keep going.”

art’s brows furrow ever so slightly, but as soon as you’re back to being ready, he rolls the tennis ball in his hand a little, observing it, before throwing it up in the air and sending it your way. he’s so casual with every hit, despite his grunts and the way his nose scrunches whenever ball meets racket, he makes it look like it’s nothing.

to make it even worse, he starts trying to conversate between passes, “you know—“ smack! another grunt leaves his lips, “it’s really rude to—“ smack! “speak about people behind their—“ smack! “fuck.. backs.”

you’re so busy trying to decipher his words you almost miss the next hit, but thankfully you snap out of the trance quick enough to hit it last minute, which he chuckles at and quickly sends it back.

smack! “‘m sorry, art, really—“ your shoes scratch against the concrete below, smack! “i was being very—“ smack! “childish, i apologize.”

he hums, content with your apologies, but still not outwardly saying he forgives you, instead his hits start to soften, he’s less trying to kill you with the ball and now rather trying to actually play tennis. “you’re all good—“ he confirms, smack! “just make it up to me, yeah?”

ball meets floor, his words had completely caught you off guard, and you missed your hit on the ball he sent your way. you felt almost stupid, standing there, staring at him and trying to decipher what he meant by making it up to him.

and of course, he didn’t elaborate, he never did, he simply just picked up another ball, smiled at you, and said, “ready?”

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🎾

art said he forgave you, right?

ever since that day, he’s been acting.. off. he was more focused on your figure now, not in a crude way, but in a way where he wanted you to position yourself correctly when playing. he watches you serve the ball, then his tongue prods at the inside of his cheek and he stands, “hey, hey, wait a second— your uh… your stance is wrong.”

“it is?” it was the fifth time he’s corrected you, today, and it’s safe to say you were getting annoyed, he picked up on the bitterness of your tone as he approached you.

“‘ts not my fault, kitty cat,” he shrugged simply, noticing the way your eyes narrow in frustration at his nickname, he only smiles. he leans in behind you, “may i?” his hands are ghosting over your arms from behind.

“whatever helps,” you remark.

“good,” it’s softly spoken at the shell of your ear, making you swallow thick, his fingers wrap around your wrist, other one holding your fingers grip on the racket’s handle. his grip is tight, yet gentle at the same time, veins flexing against his flesh with every movement as he helps you move into the right position. “just gotta.. do it like this,” he’s still whispering against your ear, nearly making your knees buckle.

once he’s satisfied with your position, which is far too quick for your liking, he backs off and lets you serve the ball again. he smiles once he’s gotten what he’s wanted, “perfect.”

eventually, after a while of hitting the ball, you decided to take a break. there was a silence between you and art, a tension you couldn’t place, you had nothing to blame it on, nothing to apologize for, and he constantly looked like he was trying to say something indescribable.

“hey,” he starts, before tugging his bottom lip under his tongue for a mere second before continuing, “remember when i said you had to make it up to me?”

you stare at him, curious, “yeah, of course.”

“you know,” his hands smooth over each other, skin underneath his right eye twitching as his pupils dilate in thought, “i’ve been having a.. problem, lately.”

“with tennis?”

“nono,” he laughs nervously, moving to scratch the back of his neck, “it’s personal, y’know? well— not entirely, since ‘m telling you, but uh— actually, nevermind.”

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🎾

you and art hadn’t discussed much after the last meet, you found yourself standing in the court yet again, whilst he was no short of an hour late at this point. you wanted to ask him what his deal is lately, what his problem is, but he wasn’t even here to be questioned. it was almost ridiculous, like he was toying with you.

“i like your skirt,” it comes out of nowhere, but it’s the same, smooth voice that art holds.

yet again, you find yourself spinning around to meet him, he’s closer, now, clearly eyeing you— but that’s.. weird, is it not? he has a wife, he shouldn’t be complimenting your obviously short skirt, or eyeing you like that, or wishing to tell you things that he had apparently not told anyone else because it’s personal. but who are you to question his relationship? maybe he’s just.. being nice, really.

“thank you,” you offer, nice, short, sweet.

he rolls his shoulder, meeting your eyes, flickering his gaze to your lips for a mere second, then saying nothing and walking by. rich cologne and mint. that’s what wafts into your senses immediately, as if it was some sort of distraction from his odd behaviors.

“do you always call people kitty cat?” you eventually ask him, it was something you’d been wondering, truly, especially since you’ve never been called that before.

“to pretty girls with an attitude, yeah,” art says it so casually.

“like your wife?”

“like you.”

art corrected you.

he corrected you, and his correction didn’t annoy you like how they always did, it made your stomach churn in a way you couldn’t decipher, you couldn’t tell if it was good or bad. you liked it, maybe, but isn’t that so sickening? art seems to think no big deal of his own words, as he doesn’t even react, so you try to be nonchalant about it as well.

the whole entire test match you play with him, he has a certain glint in his eye, his grunts are louder, his shorts look tighter, he looks like he’s having some sort of reaction to playing tennis, to playing tennis with you. your tongue runs along your lips between breaks, noticing the way his eyes linger on it, the way his pupils widen at the shine of saliva over your lips with each swipe.

at the third break, art was convinced you were doing this on purpose.

“why do you keep doing that?” he asks as he’s walking over to grab his water bottle, right where you’re sitting on the concrete floor. you blink up at him, watching him hover the bottle near his lips and squirt the water into his mouth. did he always look this good when sweaty?

gosh, maybe you’re just tired, maybe your mind is just foggy.

“what?” you frown, confused.

“licking your lips,” he speaks after swallowing the water, towering over you. his muscles were nearly bursting out of his white t-shirt with every movement, especially when he puts his water bottle down and crosses his arm, head cocking to the side. sweat causes some of his hair strands to stick to his forehead, lips puffy from how much he bites them when playing.

“my lips are dry,” you explain, so simple.

“yeah?” again, another smile, he had to be toying with you, “do you need some other help with that?”

“what do you mean?”

art hums, not explaining anything when he opens his mouth and swipes his thumb along his tongue, moving down to rub the saliva from his tongue onto your lips, memorizing the pillowy soft touch. your eyes widen, slightly, “art, this is—“

“not helping?” art tuts in faux disappointment, mumbling a small, ‘why don’t i..’ before he leans down further, licking his own lips and getting closer and closer until his lips are brushing against yours.

“wrong,” you mumble out, but you sound unsure, like you don’t really believe what you just said, you don’t think this is wrong, you’ve always thought art was attractive, it was his wife that kept your crush on him at bay. you mumble against his lips, “you have a wife, art..”

“do i?” he smirks against your lips, a near chuckle slipping out, “i must’ve forgotten.”

“art,” it sounds like a warning, but again, you wanted nothing less than for his lips to fall against yours right now.

“make it up to me, yeah? remember that?” his hand moves to hold your cheek, tipping your head up at him, eyes meeting yours in such close proximity, “i’ve got some marriage problems right now, so why don’t you play wife for me, hm?”

you nod at him, ever so slightly, he clocks it immediately, and that’s his que. his eyes flutter shut, and he’s leaning in only a mere centimeter before his lips fall against yours. the kiss is soft at first, sweet, new, but then art starts taking the lead, and it quickly becomes something on the faint lines of cannibalism, he kissed you like he wanted to eat you, like he loved you.

when he said he wanted you to play wife, he wasn’t lying.

he pries your lips open with his own before his tongue makes it’s way inside your mouth, tasting the peppermint of your gum on your own tongue, memorizing the noisy breaths that leave your mouth and move into his. your nails are quick to run along his arms, making him pull back to speak, “hold on, kitty cat.”

“you call your wife kitty cat?” you watch him peel off his sweaty shirt from his skin.

he tosses the shirt to the side, exhaling a breath that showed he hated the feeling of the wet fabric on his skin, “mm, i call you kitty cat, ‘nd you’re playing my wife, so.”

“right,” you agree, letting his cold hands brush against your skin when he takes your clothes off of you, of course looking at you for approval beforehand, which you nod to.

“did you start wearing shorter skirts on purpose?” art questions when his fingers reach the waistband of your skirt, ever so slowly dipping underneath.

“no, ‘course not,” you speak breathlessly, feeling his fingers move under your underwear as well until his fingertips meet your clit. you swallow thick, lashes fluttering as he starts moving his fingers in an almost cruel slowness.

“look at me,” he whispers a simple command, free hand holding your chin and forcing you to look at him. his fingers move further down, immediately feeling how wet you are, he chuckles in surprise, “god, you’re this wet for a married man, huh?”

“for my husband,” you mumble out, playing the part.

“that’s right,” his middle finger circles your entrance for a second before ever so slowly dipping it inside. he watches your lips fall apart, the way your eyes get glossed over, the way your hips push up against his finger. “needy.”

he doesn’t take long to push another finger in, letting go of your chin so he could guide your hand to his clothed cock, hard and pushing against his flimsy shorts. as soon as you start rubbing his dick through the fabric, his breath shudders slightly, as if he’s been waiting too long for like, as if he hasn’t had sexual pleasure in weeks.

soon enough, only a mere minute or two in of foreplay, art gets antsy and he has to have his dick inside of you, he pries his fingers from your cunt and takes your skirt off next. “lay down for me, yeah?” he smiles at the fact that you do it immediately, even spreading your legs for him.

he hisses at the feeling when his bare knees meet the concrete floor below, harsh on his skin, he tugs his shorts and boxers down ever so slightly until his cock is finally freed. you inhale sharply upon seeing it, he had a big dick. he spits in his hand, coating his dick with a grunt before he finally lines himself up with your entrance.

“ready?” he hushes out.

“yeah, yeah,” you’re barely able to finish the last yeah before his dick is moving into you, his nose scrunching from the tightness of your walls around him, it’s like you were purposefully squeezing his cock with an attempt to milk him dry already.

“fuck,” he grunts out, pulling back, then moving back in, earning a pathetic moan from your lips. it sounds like music to his ears, so he keeps going, his thrusting was slow at first, gentle, kind— but just like the test matches, or the kiss, he gets hungry, and he wants more.

his thrusts turn relentless almost immediately, maybe even like he was taking out some sorts of sexual frustrations out on your poor cunt. whimpers, whines, moans, all of those leave your lips, matching up with the grunts and the occasional whimper from his own mouth as well.

sex was intoxicating for art, and there was something so dangerous, so forbidden about this, you weren’t really his wife, he was married to another woman, he was solely your coach. some sick part of art loves that, maybe that’s why he leans down and starts nipping at your neck, sucking at the delicate skin until maroon and blackberry starts blooming on the blank canvas.

“art, oh my god,” you moan out, hands moving to scratch at his bare back, and maybe art should be smart enough to tell you not to leave marks, but he lets your nails dig in as his thrusts get harsher, surely drawing blood, or at least noticeable scratches.

in fact, the feeling of you tearing into his skin only makes his orgasm come on faster, soon enough wracking his body and making his hips stutter. he keeps going though, despite the overstimulation that makes him pathetically whine softly, just until you’ve reached your own orgasm.

he pulls out, panting, smirking down at you, “thanks, kitty cat.”

#୨୧ (jules yapping) .ᐟ #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #mike faist #mike faist x reader #mike faist x you #art donaldson smut #art donaldson challengers #challengers #challengers smut #mike faist smut #mike faist challengers

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