#Well deserved time off after a long day in the field

[enwoso]

CASUAL — leah williamson

wow, it’s a long one. this has admittedly taken me so long to write. i had the idea of this fic at the start of october but for some reason its just took so long to actually finish lol, but anyways as always hope you enjoy🤍

warning: implied smut, mdni 18+

masterlist

"girl where did you end up last night?" your best friend and also flatmate, amelie asked as you sat in your local cafe debriefing from last nights' night out events over a 'morning' coffee — it was more late afternoon — the two of you having very different endings to the night.

you sat swirling the dregs of your coffee around as you tried to find the way to explain, not so much how you didn't end up back at the flat cause you know she's knows that after catching you walking through the front door at nine am this morning in last nights clothes your head hanging from both the severe amount of alcohol you'd consumed last night but also in slight shame.

it was more whose apartment you stayed at you were trying to find the words to tell her about.

"oh y/n. you didn't did you-" amelie began as you nodded as a defeated sigh left your lips. that being all the clarification your best friend needed. ok, it may not be your proudest moment but who are you to deny a sexy, goddess of a women. but you knew this was heading in the direction of your getting another ear full.

"y/n.. what have i told you, you need to cut all ties with leah. you deserve someone who's going to treat you so much better-" amelie reached out grabbing your hands as you were still looking down at your coffee cup, you looked up a little.

you knew she was right, but you couldn't admit that to yourself. there was something about leah she was addicting and no matter how many times you ended up in between her sheets telling yourself it was the last time, it always happened again.

"yeah but-" you began but amelie gave you a stern look as her eyebrows raised as you rolled your eyes, "ok i get the message, i'll put it on my to-do list — cut leah williamson off." you dryly said, knowing it would be easier said than actually done.

"seriously you need too, your acting like a loser-" amelie continued as you opened your mouth to say something about the small insult she'd thrown your way but you were unable to. "you are though, your better than the rumours that people are spitting-"

"how do you-"

"people talk y/n!"

you'd heard the rumours going around the locals plus there'd been some article posted on an instagram post noticing you in leah's car after a match — you being labelled as 'mysterious girl'.

you weren't known to the media, thank god, you were lucky if you had over two hundred followers as if you had anymore than that fans would have an absolute field day with the news.

instead you were just a normal, twenty six year old girl who'd grown up in north london and had the usual nine to five corporate job as well as having a casual relationship with the leah williamson but you kept that under wraps as after all it was just something which was casual.

you'd met through a mutual friend of yours who also happened to be one of leah's teammates. lotte, who you went to school together and you'd stayed somewhat in contact. it always being a pleasant surprise to see her whenever your paths crossed.

you had bumped into her in a coffee shop near hours before you were being pressed up against a club wall by a blonde defender, having had one too many. the two of you had spent the night being overly touchy and flirting, her lips being felt all around your body leaving your skin feeling hot and your head all fuzzy.

"mine or yours?" leah whispered against your ear, as her teeth grazed your earlobe, you having to refrain yourself from whimpering. leah's hands gripping your hips as your were tangled in the ends of her hair.

"yours" you managed to get out, although it was quiet leah hear every letter. her hands reaching up to grab your hand as she dragged you through the club and towards the exit without as much of a bat of an eyelid towards her friends who she was leaving behind.

to both your luck there was a black cab waiting on the side of the road, both of you taking the chance to get in as leah immediately told the driver her address.

leah's hand stayed on your thigh the entire time as her thumb drew little circles absentmindedly, the busy streets of london making it feel like it's taken hours just to get a few minutes up the road.

as you watched out the window there was a cloud of regret you knew you'd feel in the morning but right now that wasn't what you mind wanted. you right now wanted leah.

so as soon as you cross the threshold of her apartment, you were pinned against the wall. the coldness sending a sharp shiver down your spine. "your so gorgeous" leah whispered as her eyes darkened, the sweet innocence of her blue eyes long gone.

inching closer so that your faces were impossibly close, taking one of her hands as it lands on the back of your neck and kisses you. slow but deep.

letting yourself get lost in her lips as it becomes more passionate and searching but then leah leans back a little, realising that you were in the middle of her hallway.

"come with me, baby" she whispers, her accent thick as the pet name rolls off her tongue but laced with love making your head spin even more as she extends her hand for you to grab as she leads you towards her bedroom, pushing the door open with her foot as her other hand laces itself back around you waist pulling you back to being impossibly close to her.

giving her a teasing look as she kisses you again this one more needy and fervent. feeling her hands all around your body nipping and pulling at your skin as you feel the back of you legs on the edge of her bed. a slight push and you back met with softness of her white sheets.

a small moan leaving leah's lips into the kiss as she felt your hands gently squeeze her ass, feeling her smile against your lips knowing that you were having the same affect on her as she was on you. you were both driving each other crazy.

as the kiss grow more sloppy as whines were being strung from both of your lips, your hips mindlessly starting to slowly grind against her. leah moving to kiss your neck leaving small kisses and sucking on your neck that elicited small moans from your lips as your breathing hitches.

leah's kisses to your neck becoming more intense you could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter by the second as you hips carried on to move against her. your hands lingering on her back as your nails dug that little deeper, more than likely leaving scratch marks.

"please le-" you moan out softly, needing more.

-

that wasn't the last time you saw the blonde defender, nor the last time you ended up with your limbs tangled between each other.

whenever the other had, had a drink or just when you needed company leah seemed to always be there. you felt like you craved her at all hours of the day. you found your mind sometimes wondering what she may be doing when you weren't by her side.

but you weren't together, it was just a casual thing. is what you found you were telling yourself.

but with each weekend that passed you found yourself spending them with leah more and more often. which is exactly what had happened this weekend.

leah had called you, she never calls you only ever texts. strange is what you thought when you saw her caller id on the screen a small smile slipping onto your lips as you pressed accept.

"hello?" you said as leah was yet to speak, you thought maybe she had called the wrong number. maybe she hadn't meant to call you .

"hi y/n-" she finally spoke but she lacked her usual confident tone, this time it had been replaced with a nervous shake of her accent. like she had something in her head that she needed to get out.

"did you need something le?" you ask as there is a deafening silence on the other end, a few rustling sounds before leah clears her throat.

"um are you doing anything this afternoon-" leah paused as you think to your plans for the afternoon, "more specifically are you doing anything at two?" leah continued as she waited your response as you hummed.

"no i should be free, why?" you asked wondering what this was going to lead to, what did she have planned.

"fabulous!" a breath of relief was let out from leah as she had a big grin on her face on the other line which if you could have saw would have made you smile, "since you aren't doing anything, do you wanna come to my match?"

you felt as though her words had just fell on deaf ears, you couldn't believe what you were actually hearing. ever since you and leah had- well whatever your relationship was it had always been in the darkness of everyone else, behind peoples back and away from prying eyes.

this felt like a step, you didn't know what direction but it felt like it meant something good.

as you tried to contain your happiness you nodded forgetting she wasn't actually in the room with you, "i- um i would love to le"

"great! i'll erm get your tickets sorted and send them over" leah explained as you hummed along before she quickly had to say her goodbyes claiming that she needed to get her pre match routine started.

since having to re-organise your afternoon, you were now going around rushing trying to find an outfit. not knowing if it was too cliche you going in an arsenal jersey of leah's or whether a subtle hint of red in your outfit would be a better idea.

deciding on just the subtle hint of red, finding a red cap which just so happen to also be leah’s which she’d left at yours after one night.

once you got the match you were amazed at the amount of people who had turned up, yourself not being as clued in of how big a scale women’s football was as admittedly you didn’t exactly have a big interest in football or in sport in general.

but for leah, you’d sit and watch football match after match if you knew it would make her happy.

once you found your seat in the stand you quickly sent the blonde a message not expecting her to even reply but she did.

Y/N:) - i’m here! good luck, i’ll be cheering you on☺️

LE<3 - i seen you! i’ve been looking for that hat. but i think it’s found a better home now;)

LE<3 - meet me near the dugout at the end!

finding yourself smiling at her messages as she sent another telling you what to say to the security so they would let you in to where leah wanted you to be, before slipping your phone back into your pocket ready to watch a game of football.

the ninety minutes felt as if they flew by, and at first you must admit you didn’t exactly understand what you were watching so you just cheered when everyone else around you did, but at the first half and definitely into the second half you managed to get a few rules down — with the help of a google search..

watching as leah walked around clapping and waving to fans looking so effortlessly good in her kit and with the fact she’d just run around for a good ninety minutes it never managed to fail to surprise you how easy she made it look.

despite the team only coming out with a draw which you knew leah would be slightly huffed about especially since they were by far the better team, you still were incredibly proud of her.

walking down and reciting the exact words that leah had messaged you to the security you made it to where she had told you to meet her, but that’s when a certain someone recognised you. a wide smile and arms wide open for you.

"oh y/n it's lovely to see you" amanda engulfed you in a hug, a warm fuzzy but also bittersweet feeling filling your chest. you'd met her mum totally by accident one of the first times that you and leah slept together. she'd been dropping of groceries for her daughter. leah trying to rush you out the door before things got to awkward.

but instead amanda being the polite women she is asked her daughter to introduce you to her. it ending up you stayed an extra two hours longer than you'd planned much to leah's discomfort, but in a way that made it all the more that enjoyable.

"what you doing after here?" amanda asked as she pulled you out the hug, leah lingering just behind you chewing the inside of her lip. "just if your not busy you can always join us for a few drinks" amanda smiled so sincerely as you thought over the invitiation briefly, would it be awkward - maybe? but friends can go out for drinks too!

“yeah, i’d love too” you grinned as a small cheer left amanda’s lips, you seeing the slight falter of a look on leah’s face before it turned back to her signature tight lipped frown.

or maybe you did it just to spite the blonde defender who stood so nervous next to you.

"brilliant! leah we'll wait out at the cars for you" amanda directed towards her daughter as she nodded a small sigh leaving her lips as she plastered on a fake smile, you knew there was a part of her that didnt want you there but that just added fuel to your fire.

amanda looping her arm with yours as the two of you walked towards where the cars would be at the back of the emirates stadium to take you and the williamson family for a few drinks to celebrate the win.

"so how have you been?" amanda asks as she walks beside you, a genuine interest in her tone, as you hum catching her up with your life which hadn't been all that exciting, most days merging into one.

"leah tells me you've been helping her with some business project? how's it going?" amanda asks and you swear your throat started to close up, your words getting stuck in between your lips as your eyes goes wide.

"oh- um yeah it's coming together-" quite literally. you stutter out a response hoping it doesn't raise to much suspicion and praying that the topic is over with just as quick as it came.

"leah won't give me a clue what it's about" amanda complains as she continues to tell you about the countless times she tried to get it out of her daughter as you hummed along more in your head as to why leah would say you were just business partners? why not just say your friends, cause after all you were?

"mhm well i won't be one to spoil the surprise then" you nervously chuckled as you saw the cars in the distance knowing you were close to the end of the conversation. amanda letting out a groan as she hoped she'd be able to get the big surprise out of you but that would be pretty hard considering there was no big surprise.

you were going to have to talk with leah, which would be a little odd as when the two of you were alone, not much talking would be done well not the converse action.

amanda letting go of your arm as she got into the other side of the cab, leah coming out the exit of the back of the stadium as she jogged quickly getting into the people carrier. sitting herself in the seat next to you as she shot you a soft smile.

-

the night was actually going smoothly, leah seemed to get out of whatever strop she was in when you were stood with her family in the emirates and was actually talking to you now. well more flirting with you. her hand getting dangerously high up on your thigh as she spoke.

"have i told you how pretty you look-" she blurted out as you took a small sip of your drink, a small smile appearing on your face as you lifted the glass from your lips and back to the table.

"you may have mentioned a few times" you whispered as this time it was leah's time to smile as her hand drifted a little further up your thigh as you shot her look as she squeezed your thigh making you jump in your seat a little.

"le-" you harhsly said inbetween your teeth as she looked at you so innocently as if she had not clue what she was doing to you but you know she knew. leah knew what her touch was doing to you and how it was affecting you.

leah had you right where she wanted you and honestly, you were going to let her - you'd face the consequences later on. right now, you wanted her, in more ways than one.

standing up with a loud scrape of your chair, all eyes turning to land on you, "m'sorry just- i'll be back-" you stutter out, your cheeks all flushed as you made a beeline straight for the toilets.

amanda looking worryingly over her shoulder at you before turning to leah, who just simply shrugged that making her mum's eyebrows furrow even more.

"i better go and check on her" leah stood up excusing herself as she followed suit pushing the door on the pub toilet door seeing you touching up your lip gloss as you regained your composure from the feeling on her hands on your body.

leah locking the door behind her, a rye smile on her lips as she stepped just that little bit closer to you, feeling your heart beat just that little bit faster.

was it nerves, probably but maybe it was more the uncertainty as you never knew what you were going to get with the blonde.

"are you sure?" leah whispered as she placed a quick kiss to your cheek before resting her hands to your hips as a smug smile came from you before you nodded.

"do you think you can keep up?" leah teased as your shot her a shocked look as she pulled you into deeper into the bathroom, your back now pushed flush against the sink.

"i'm sure i can.. business partner-" you whisper as you inch closer to her, making your eyes switch between her eyes and lips a flash of shock appearing on her face.

but just as leah opened her mouth to say another teasing comment, you wrap your hand behind her neck and slam your lips against hers. the kiss quickly turning heated when leah's tongue enters your mouth as a familiar warmth floods your body in seconds,

her hands gripping at your waist as she tugs you closer to her without breaking the kiss. the sound of your lips together was enough to leave an uncomfortable throbbing inbetween your legs.

leah pulls back for a moment searching for anything in your eyes that may say that you don't want this but there was nothing but lust, a small whine leaving your lips at the loss of contact in your lips before leah's diving right back in.

the sound that had been blasting through the pub had now quieten to a mere hum as your focus was solely now on the girl in front of you.

her hands placed on the small on your back slightly pushing in to make your back arch as your chest pushed into her. as leah's hands soon made their way slowly to slide down you your ass as your tongues graze against each other.

"so pretty for me, my love" your heart jumps at her loving tone as you feel the blood rush to your cheeks, leah's words always having some sort of effect on you and always leaving you feeling flustered.

leah's eyes roam your figure as her hand traces absentmindedly, as if she planning her next attack on your body. the blonde noticing the way your breath hitched when her fingers sit on your pulse point on your neck.

leah rotating her hand so her fingers lie gently against it awaiting your reaction as she smirks watching as you squeeze your eyes shut, as your hands grip against the rim of the sink.

a small chuckle leaves leah's lips as she leans down to press her lips to your neck sucking harshly on your sweet spot. a string of little whimpers leave your pretty little lips as you tilt your head more to the side allowing leah to have more access.

"le, please do something" you beg, feeling her hand roam underneath your hoodie, grazing across your breasts.

"don't be impatient baby girl" she rasps against your ear, tugging down on it with her teeth as you feel your self squeeze your thighs together. hoping it will help you relieve some tension between her legs.

leah finally lifting your hoodie over your head as she throws to the ground of the pub bathroom. usually you would have felt embarrassed as you would feel your whole body want to cower aways but with leah, it felt different. it felt good, it felt right.

-

it was a typical saturday night, leah had her home match at the emirates on the sunday so she was taking advantage of her the small out of rest time she had. a small hum of the tv playing in the background as you watched it, but really all your mind could focus on was the fact leah’s fingers were combing through the ends of your hair.

you were lying wrapped in leah's arms on her couch as the tv played, leah focused on some insta reel on her phone. you head tucked on her chest as it heaved up and down, the wholesome of the interaction. it felt like it was meant to be — it felt real.

"le?" you whispered your head turning to look up at the blonde as a small hum left her lips, her phone lowering a little.

"where do you see yourself in a year?" you asked, it was something that played on your mind a lot, cause would you still be in some casual relationship with leah or would you have your own apartment and she’d show you off to her friends as something more.

you were more hoping for the second option, since the months had passed since you both promised out of breathe that there wouldn’t be any strings attached.

and boy oh boy had that changed, especially since your favourite bra lived in her dresser. it was pretty hard to be casual.

“cause maybe we’d be more and going on cute little dates in a cafe before you’d go off to training” you began as you sat up, you rambling on as your hands flew around with some enthusiasm making you miss the way leah’s face changed.

“and then when you come home i’d be there waiting, your dinner on the table-“ you paused as you looked down to see leah’s face, puzzled but also her eyes they told you a different emotion, not the same energy you had but it was sadness — more a sense of guilt.

“i- sorry i got ahead of myself” you mumbled as your back sunk into the back of her couch, the further side from her.

leah shook her head, and you were half expecting her to wrap you in a hug and kiss your cheek and tell you it was okay and that maybe she felt the same way.

but she didn’t.

"y/n, remember, we're not together-" leah cut straight to the point, her tone blunt as you felt your heart drop and your brows furrowing and a quickly developing pout spreading across your lips.

you let out a shaky breath as you nodded slowly, you understood. she had kept her side of the promise of no strings attached. “i- just thought maybe?” you said so quietly it only came out as a whisper as you fidgeted with your fingers.

looking up to see leah’s face it told you everything you needed to know. you’d only known the blonde for a several amount of months but you knew her well enough to know what her face was telling you without actually having to say the actual words.

“oh i get it” you scoffed slightly, choking back on the tears which pricked at your eyes. all it ever was going to be was casual.

leah’s opened her mouth but nothing came out as she sat herself up on the couch but before she could even attempt to reach out to you, you were up from the couch. slipping your shoes on your feet. you didn’t want to be in the same room as her.

“y/n- don’t” leah finally managed to get out as she followed your actions following you into her hallway which was littered with her football memorabilia from her glittering career. but you shook your head, her voice to painful to hear as you stopped with your back to her just before the front door.

"do you know what's actually quite funny-" you paused to let out a little chuckle as you stood mere metres from the door, as you looked up from your shoes spinning slightly so you faced her. leah stood her shoulders sunken as she tried to plead with you not to leave.

"i actually thought i meant something to you- but i guess that's just how little i actually meant to you" you sighed as tried to steady your breath, tears prickling at your eyes ready to fall at any moment.

"i- i was ready-" you paused as your words got stuck in your throat, leah reaching out for you as you took a step back. "i was ready to give you my everything" you admitted it coming out just a little louder than a whisper.

"y/n-"

“no leah, you’d made it clear how you feel” you spat out as you spun on your heal, leaving leah calling out your name but your ignored her, reaching for the door and hearing how it clicked shut behind you.

part of you was hoping she was going to rip her front door open and call after you and not stop until you were back in the warmth of her arms but the corridor in her apartment block was silent.

the other part of you hated yourself how long you had let it drag out for, but now you were free. she can go to hell.

stumbling through the street as your tears fell down your cheeks, tapping away at your phone until you found the contact you wanted, the dial drilling through your ear a few times before it got to voicemail.

you sighed as you heard the beep, "i cut her off, amelie."

[srgntjamesbuckybarnes]

Past, Present, ...

Summary: After sleeping with Bucky after months of comforting him during his nightmares, Y/N returns from a three-week mission to find out she's been replaced.

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Near death, Implying attempted suicide (it's not)

Word Count: 5.7k

A/N: Not Beta'd. Dusting this off from the drafts. I wrote this while sleep deprived. Not sure how we got here but the original ending wasn't a happy one. Enjoy whatever this is instead.

How much space is too much?

According to James Bucky Barnes, three weeks isn't enough.

Three weeks on an assignment was enough for Y/N to become homesick. She understood she would have to pause her life to save the world, but what no one informed her was that the rest of the world would continue to play.

“Y/L/N?” A familiar voice shouted.

Adjusting the strap of her duffle bag on her shoulder, Y/N turned her head to find her co-worker jogging towards her. Slanting her eyes, Y/N raised her palm to block out the sun.

“Wilson,” she addressed the man when he was near.

Bent over with his hands on his knees, Sam panted. His sweatshirt stretched across his back making the dark patch of sweat more prominent. Squinting up at Y/N, Sam breathed, “Did you just get back?”

Y/N bobbed her head, adjusting the strap on her shoulder once more for emphasis rather than comfort. She did not need to ask to know Sam just returned from his run. He usually ran with Steve and Bucky, but they always finished well before Sam. It wasn’t uncommon for him to return hours after the super-soldiers.

Pushing off his knees, Sam stood, tilting his head toward one of the many entrances in Avengers Tower. He knew better than to offer to carry her duffle bag. The weight of missions was often packed in the bags they returned with.

Y/N and Sam strolled side by side. Sam only paused to open the door for Y/N. Trekking into the tower, he could finally relax his eyes from the intense sun. The two stood shoulder to shoulder, waiting for the elevator to arrive.

“I thought you were already back,” Sam admitted, watching the light above the elevator doors.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows. Her mission was supposed to be longer. If anything, he should have anticipated her return later. Facing the man beside her, she asked, “Why?”

Ding.

Scrambling into the elevator, Sam leaned against the wall across from Y/N. She reflected his behavior, leaning against the wall behind her.

Once the elevator started moving, Sam confessed, “Bucky skipped his run today. I thought I saw you with him before I left. Guess I was wrong.”

Y/N bit her bottom lip, reopening a recently closed wound. She released her lip long enough to confirm what Sam already knew. “You were wrong.” Ignoring the coppery taste flooding her tongue, she drew her bottom lip between her teeth again.

She hadn’t seen her teammates in three weeks. She hadn’t seen Bucky longer. She assumed they were doing great, but Bucky didn't share her thoughts. He denied it, yet he went out of his way to avoid her since their last mission together, since they slept together. How one could be sweet in one moment and cold in another, Y/N would never understand.

Y/N and Bucky started off rocky. He hated her from the moment they met. Bucky was struggling in the field, so Steve asked her to keep an eye on him. Bucky rejected her the second Steve introduced them. He saw through Steve’s plan and stomped his feet like a child. Rather than confirm Bucky’s insinuation, Steve vouched that she deserved to be on the team for her talents, not to babysit Bucky. He even suggested that Y/N and Bucky spar to prove it. Bucky loathed her then. She laid him out several times that day. It was the reason Steve sought her out in the first place. Bucky was a far more experienced fighter than Y/N. He should have won every fight. He lost them all.

Muffled voices were heard from the other side of the doors. Voices Y/N craved to hear since she departed for her mission. When the doors spread, Sam was the first to enter the room. “Hey guys,” he called out, extending his hands toward Y/N, “look who I found.”

Y/N tentatively stepped off the elevator, joining her friends in the living room. She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen so many eyes on her. “I didn’t know there was a party,” she joked, waving.

Tony was the first to speak up, a glass of honey liquid in hand, “Glad, you're back. We were just getting to know Bucky’s girlfriend over here.” He lifted his glass.

Y/N’s eyes followed the direction of Tony’s glass. Her hand tautened around the strap of her duffle bag for support. Y/N hadn’t noticed the extra body in the room at first. The team always had someone over for business or pleasure; it didn’t matter. This time it did because staring back at her was Bucky’s guest, his girlfriend, undoubtedly here for pleasure.

The stunning woman beside Bucky introduced herself. “Hi, I’m Evangelina, but everyone calls me Lina.” Y/N could see the muscles in her uncovered arms tense. Even though she couldn’t see the hand attached to the arm from the other side of the bar, she knew Evangelina was holding Bucky’s flesh hand. “But Bucky calls me Angel,” she added, batting her eyelashes at Bucky.

The woman wasn't solely attractive; she also had a heavenly name. Y/N mentally gagged at the thought of hearing Bucky call his girlfriend Angel.

The coward refused to meet Y/N’s eyes. He took a lengthy drink from a glass matching Tony’s. Stark usually drank top-shelf liquor. Y/N might have been concerned under different circumstances, but she knew the liquor did not affect him, unlike herself.

“Y/N,” she weakly introduced herself, gnawing on her bottom lip again.

“We were just having drinks. Care to join us? There is plenty of alcohol. I can make you something,” Evangelina offered politely.

Y/N’s teeth clamped tight on her bottom lip. She spent three weeks wishing she could return to the tower, only to be treated like a guest, an outsider in her own home.

It was then that Bucky decided to face her, yet his eyes looked right through her. Y/N’s chest tightened. She didn’t know it was feasible to feel more alone in her home, surrounded by friends and a man she had been intimate with, than by herself in a foreign country. She wondered if he could see the hurt written on her face.

“I-I don’t-”

Bucky’s whiskey-strained voice interrupted, “No. No drinks.”

A gasp pulled Y/N's attention away from the couple. Cold, pale hands rested on her cheeks, rotating her head from side to side. “Y/N, you’re bleeding,” Natasha chastised.

Wrestling out of Natasha’s hold, Y/N utilized the back of her hand to wipe the blood from her lip. Staring at the crimson fluid coating her skin, Y/N jerked her head. “I can’t.” Blindly smashing the elevator button behind her, she whispered, “I have to…” her voice trailed off as she jabbed her thumb over her shoulder. Disregarding everyone’s silent questions, she bolted into the elevator, only letting her shoulders sag when the doors closed. The strap of her duffle bag slid from her shoulder landing with a thud. Gliding her back down the wall, Y/N cradled her knees and wept.

Every night before bed, Y/N prayed the sun would never rise because when day broke, Bucky vanished. Her dreams filled with memories of their last mission together. Reality was the price of admission for eight hours in heaven.

Y/N clenched her jaw at every public display of affection between the new couple. In the time she had known him, Bucky had never been touchy-feely in public. Now, he couldn’t appear to stop. Bucky only ever reached for Y/N after a nightmare or horrific mission. He reached for her at his lowest and she responded with open arms. He might have another woman occupying his bed, but he continued to fuck with her head.

The voice in her head wasn’t her own anymore. Every thought she had echoed back in his familiar deep timber. She couldn’t shake him. A twisted part of her brain wondered if he couldn’t shake her either.

Sam’s comment when she returned from her assignment should have been her first clue. He had mistaken Evangelina for her. Sam had been the first to mention the resemblance between the two, but it wasn’t the last time Y/N received those kinds of comments.

In the time that Y/N had gotten to know Evangelina, which wasn’t much, she concluded that she didn’t hate her. The two had more in common than she wanted to admit. Evangelina made it a point to befriend all of the Avengers; Y/N included. Y/N hated that she enjoyed her company. It was a tough pill to swallow at first, but she couldn’t hate the woman for her taste in men. Who didn’t find Bucky Barnes attractive?

Bucky had been more challenging to read. He didn’t prevent the women from becoming friends, but he didn’t encourage it either. He continued to keep his distance from Y/N, only interacting with her in group settings.

The Avengers were unaware of Bucky and Y/N’s history. Their relationship was exclusively behind closed doors. Y/N wondered if Evangelina would be her confidante if she knew Y/N had warmed his bed first. Maybe Bucky told her and that was why she pushed to be Y/N’s friend. Maybe that was the reason she asked to raid Y/N’s closet for her date with Bucky. Even though Y/N desperately wanted to slam the door in her face, Evangelina was innocent in the situation. So, she agreed.

“You have so many pretty dresses,” Evangelina said in awe. Her hand ran across each piece of fabric dangling in the wardrobe.

Y/N’s fingers plucked at a loose thread on her comforter. Although they were now friends, helping Bucky’s girlfriend pick out an outfit for their date was still awkward. At least it was on Y/N’s end. Evangelina was none the wiser.

“Perks of being an Avenger.”

“What’s it like being an Avenger? Bucky never talks about his work life. He’s always tense when he returns from a mission.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow even though the other woman couldn’t see her. Bucky was slow to open up, especially about his past as the Winter Soldier. Y/N wasn’t surprised he dodged the topic. Ever since Natasha leaked classified files, Bucky’s past became public knowledge. Bucky and Evangelina’s relationship progressed beyond what Y/N previously had with Bucky, at least on the surface. She didn’t know much about their life behind closed doors. Bucky never took Y/N on a date or made her his girlfriend, but he let her hold him in her arms at night and let her in after a difficult mission. Yet his girlfriend practically confessed she knew nothing about his troubles. That was what shocked Y/N.

“It’s…” she paused, attempting to find the right words to convey the difficulties of the job without disturbing her. “It’s like war. You save and lose people. It’s rewarding and sucks at the same time.”

Evangelina pivoted with a black cocktail dress in hand. “That sounds awful.”

Y/N shrugged. “People do it every day. Steve, Sam, and Bucky were all military men before this.” She waved her hands around the room.

Evangelina caught the shift in Y/N’s tone. It wasn’t something she wanted to talk about, a reaction Evangelina grew used to from her exchanges with Bucky. Altering the subject, Evangelina pressed the cocktail dress flush to her body. “What about this one?”

Y/N sucked in a deep breath. She wore the dress on her last mission with Bucky. Though he didn’t say it in public, his reaction when they returned to the safe house that night was enough to know Bucky admired the dress. With Evangelina’s similar figure, Y/N knew Bucky would equally appreciate it on her, especially since he wouldn’t get to rip it off of Y/N again.

She would have told Evangelina about the dress, but it was none of her business. The past was in the past. One Evangelina wasn’t a part of. If Bucky hadn’t told her about their past neither would she. Was it bad to send Evangelina on a date in the dress Bucky had fucked her in? Probably. Did she hope he would think about her the entire date? Absolutely.

Clearing her throat, Y/N plastered a phony smile on her face. “Good choice.” After the date, the dress would be tarnished, like rerecording over an old tape.

Y/N never considered herself a masochist, but she couldn’t escape the role of a domestic sinner. She couldn’t sabotage Evangelina’s relationship no matter how Bucky made her feel; however, she could ruin her own relationship. There was a time in her life when she thought Bucky was the one. Part of her still believed it. It was the part she had to sacrifice.

She told herself Bucky’s soft caresses and lingering stares meant nothing, that every promise spoken was a lie to satisfy the moment. Everything Y/N ever loved had been hard to part with, so she convinced herself Bucky never truly loved her. He couldn’t with how readily he replaced her. Could he? It didn’t matter because he chose Evangelina.

“Hey, Y/N,” Steve welcomed jovially.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows as Steve’s voice carried down the hall. Who was he talking to? Rounding the corner just in time, she hadn’t missed the way Steve’s eyes enlarged at the sight of her.

“I didn’t realize,” Steve began, his eyes flashing between both women. “I thought you were Y/N.”

Evangelina chuckled, gliding her hands across her abdomen to smooth down the front of the dress. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Y/N was considerate enough to lend me her dress.” She turned to Y/N, who was still standing in the archway of the lobby. “Thanks again.”

Before Y/N could reply, a hand slinked around her waist, drawing her into a solid body. Startled, Y/N tensed.

“Hey, Ange-” Bucky’s tongue twisted as his eyes landed on Y/N. He was relieved he peeked at her face before he complimented her appearance. He dragged his arm back to his side in a flash. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you to be here.”

Y/N chewed her lip, taking a step back. Bucky was dressed from head to toe in black, matching Evangelina. Y/N wondered if they planned to dress for her funeral before or after they killed off any romantic feelings she had for Bucky.

“I did the same thing,” Steve laughed. Bucky glowered at him, forcing his hands into his pockets. Steve held his hands up, “I didn’t touch anyone though, that was all you.”

Bucky grumbled, crossing the lobby to plant a kiss on Evangelina’s forehead. His right hand rested on the small of her back. “You look gorgeous,” he whispered against her hairline.

Evangelina grinned, “You don’t look bad yourself.”

Y/N couldn’t argue with that.

The faint smile on Bucky’s lips disappeared as the hand on Evangelina’s back ran up her spine. The tips of his fingers halted over a loose thread beside the zipper. Anyone would have glossed over it, but not Bucky. Not when he was the one to patch the dress up and certainly not when he was the one to tear it in the first place. When his gaze collided with Y/N’s, she knew he recognized the dress. His eyes blatantly proceeded to check her out.

Y/N flushed as he studied her; however, the moment his eyes drifted to his best friend, Y/N’s blood ran cold. “Are you two,” he pointed between Y/N and Steve. His voice was unable to fully ask the question he wanted to.

Steve slung his arm over Y/N’s shoulder. It was meant to be a joke, but Y/N saw the blaze in Bucky’s eyes. She didn’t know if it was directed at Steve or herself.

“I wish,” Steve beamed down at her. “I have a conference with Fury in an hour. I was hoping to get there early.”

Y/N sent Steve a soft smile. Steve and Bucky were best friends. If anyone knew what transpired between the two on their last mission, it would be Steve. His reaction proved otherwise. She was confident Steve didn’t know about her past with Bucky or he wouldn’t have unknowingly taunted Bucky.

Evangelina ran her hand along Bucky’s back affectionately. “What about you, Y/N? That dress looks amazing on you. I’m almost jealous I didn’t borrow that one.”

Untangling herself from Steve’s hold, Y/N focused on responding to her new friend rather than Bucky. Puffing out her chest, Y/N said, “Thanks, Lina. I have a date.”

Evangelina grinned, “You should join us.” She directed her attention to Bucky, slapping the center of his chest. “They should join us.”

Y/N’s eyes bulged at the prospect of a double date with Bucky. Absolutely not.

“Could be fun,” Bucky added, but his voice lacked emotion.

She officially lost her mind. There was no way Bucky was actually on board with this idea. The man spent most of his time avoiding her. The second she attempts to move on, he tries to interfere. No. No. No.

Y/N shook her head, lying through her teeth, “It’s still new. I’m not ready to introduce him to anyone I know yet.”

Bucky’s eyes lingered on Y/N’s figure for a moment. “That’s not exactly a new relationship kind of dress.” His eyes narrowed in a challenge.

Y/N pursed her lips. “It is for the kind of relationship he and I have.”

Bucky and Y/N’s first assignment together was a disaster. Bucky wasn't prepared to return to the field, but he insisted he was fine. The mission was successful, but only after Bucky hesitated and Y/N was stabbed. The knife was meant for Bucky, and he took her sacrifice for his mistake poorly. They argued even while Y/N was getting stitched up. At the time, they couldn’t stand one another, but looking back on it, it was the tipping point from enemies to friends.

Tony pressured the two to get along for everyone's sake. He suggested going out for a drink and hashing it out. It was the typical outing for a man of Tony’s status with enemies. Bucky had been the first to yield, offering to buy Y/N a drink. As long as it meant they could move forward, he didn’t care. Y/N declined. Bucky scowled in frustration.

“I probably shouldn't tell you this, but ever since the whole enhanced superpower thing, alcohol is like poison to me.”

Bucky’s face softened. Alcohol had been an issue for him and Steve as well. He detested that he couldn’t get drunk, especially with the unwanted memories that plagued his head frequently. It paled in comparison to her side effects. At least he could still consume the liquid and pretend.

“How about dinner then?” Bucky proposed.

Y/N nodded. “Dinner would be great.”

After that, the pair functioned well together. At least until Y/N witnessed Bucky’s nightmares or when he pulled away from everyone after a challenging mission. That was when Y/N began comforting Bucky. While it wasn’t a problem before, it was now.

“Stop staring at me,” Bucky grumbled.

Y/N couldn’t tear her eyes away from the super-soldier. It was their first mission together since he began dating Evangelina. The two of them were trapped in a safe house on the other side of the world. It wasn’t the first time they had stayed in this particular safe house. It was the exact safe house they inhabited on their last mission.

“You’re hurt,” Y/N observed. Bucky naturally had a sway in his gate. Today, it was heavier, as if he had been lugging extra weight around for hours.

“I’m fine,” Bucky rasped, keeping his back to Y/N. He kept his focus on igniting the fire in the fireplace before them.

Y/N frowned. “I don't mean physically.” Bucky remained silent. “Maybe you should call Evangelina,” she proposed. It was the practical thing to suggest, but it seemed to have the opposite effect on Bucky than she intended.

Bucky whirled around; the fire blazed behind him. “I said I’m fine,” he barked. His dark eyes pinned her to her spot on the worn couch.

Y/N chewed her bottom lip. If he was going to get angry with her for caring, then she’d get furious right back. “If you’re so fine, then why have you been avoiding me?”

Bucky grumbled something under his breath, running his hand through his hair. “I already told you, I haven’t-”

“Bullshit.” Y/N rose from her seat. “You fucked me after that HYDRA mission and discarded me like garbage,” she fumed. “I gave you space. I’m gone not even an entire month and suddenly you have a girlfriend. Fuck you, James.”

Bucky stormed the room until he was standing in front of her. His nostrils flared as he ran his tongue along his teeth before baring his teeth. Y/N tipped her head back, daring him to put his hands on her. Bucky studied her face momentarily, their faces hairsbreadths from one another as he hissed, “Fuck. You. Y/N.” From this distance, she could see the muscles in his face twist. She knew he was pissed. Bucky pulled away. “You think you know everything. You have no idea what it's like to have someone fuck with your head.”

Y/N shoved his chest hard. Bucky didn’t even flinch. “You! You’ve been driving me insane with your games!” Her hands moved to shove him again, but he caught both of her wrists.

“Don’t,” he growled.

Y/N ripped herself free from his hold. His grip wasn't tight enough to hurt, still she rubbed her wrist anyway, trying to rid her body of his touch.

“Go back to your boyfriend, Y/N,” he commanded.

Y/N squinted at the man in front of her. This version of him was a stranger. “I heard you,” she voiced softly. “That night,” she pointed to the bedroom down the hall, “when you thought I was asleep, you said you love me.”

If she wasn’t an Avenger, she wouldn’t have detected the way his eyes widened for a fraction of a second. Bucky no longer had to wear a mask from HYDRA, but it seemed everyone except Bucky got the memo. His voice matched the stone-cold expression he wore. “I lied.”

It was the lack of sympathy in his voice that slammed the casket closed. With two little words, Bucky Barnes had buried her in the same place he made love to her.

Bucky returned to the tower after dropping Evangelina off when he stumbled across Natasha with a glass of wine in hand. She was snuggled under a blanket on the couch, watching a true crime show. Since he was unsure where everyone else had gone, he settled on the spot beside Natasha.

“Long night?” Natasha questioned, side-eying the brunette.

Bucky moaned, running his hands down his face. “Long week.”

Natasha swirled her glass of wine. “There is still a bit of wine left. It won't get you drunk but it might help you relax.”

Bucky pursed his lips. “I don’t think that will help.”

Natasha shrugged. “There’s some liquor Y/N’s boyfriend left on the counter over there.” She pointed to the nearly empty bottle across the room. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind sharing.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, “He’s here?”

The red head nodded. “They just got back from dinner. She said they were going upstairs to watch a movie, but after the amount of alcohol they had, I’m sure they are doing more than that.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

Bucky stiffened. “They were both drinking?”

“Yeah. The boyfriend came down a couple times to make mixed drinks. He offered me one the last time he was down here, but,” she raised her wine glass.

Before Natasha could continue, Bucky was out of the room, taking the stairs three at a time. He didn’t expect Natasha to understand. People didn’t go around broadcasting their weaknesses. Y/N told him hers, despite them not being friends. It wasn’t his position to share the information. He regretted it now.

Bucky pounded his fist on the wooden door of Y/N's bedroom with a force that made the hinges creak. “Y/N, you in there? Open up,” he pleaded, his voice laced with concern. When he tried the handle and found it locked, his heart sank. “Y/N,” his voice grew more desperate. He could hear shuffling on the other side of the door and leaned in, straining to hear anything that might give him an indication of what was transpiring inside. Despite his repeated requests, the door remained sealed shut, and Bucky's impatience and frustration mounted with each passing second. His voice grew louder, his fists clenched tightly, as he roared for Y/N to open the goddamn door. But there was no response. Finally, Bucky stepped back, his eyes flashing with rage, preparing to kick the door down.

The door opened the second Bucky lifted his boot. A man Bucky had never seen before pushed past him, flying down the hallway. “I didn’t do anything,” he cried as he stepped onto the elevator.

Whiplash hit Bucky hard. His head twisted between the man on the elevator and Y/N’s open bedroom door. The second he caught sight of the man's face, he filed it away preparing to deal with him later. Bucky ran into Y/N’s room. His heartbeat drummed loudly, drowning out the sound of the TV playing in the background. He called her name, but there was no response. He scanned the entire room, finding it empty. His boot kicked a glass, the brown liquid staining the carpet. With a lump in his throat, Bucky knocked on the bathroom door and waited for half a heartbeat before he jerked the door wide open.

There she was, sprawled out on the bathroom floor. Bucky crouched down beside her. His flesh hand shook her shoulder as he called her name. No response. He rolled her onto her back, his fingers searching for the pulse on her neck. Bucky almost missed the faint thrum of her pulse beneath his fingers. His own body was shaking. He called her name once again but was met with silence.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. send the medical unit to Y/N’s room,” his voice quivered as he addressed Tony’s artificial intelligence.

He stepped over her to turn the shower on. Leaving the sliding glass door open, he enveloped her torso in his arms, dragging her bodying into the shower. Crumbling to the floor behind her, he cradled her body under the spray of the cold water.

“Come on, Y/N. Wake up,” he pleaded. He tapped her face repeatedly. “Come on. Not like this,” his voice began shattering. Her head lulled into his chest. Bucky’s fist clenched, mindful not to crush her, as a loud sob tore through his chest. Bucky held her tighter than the clothes adhering to their skin beneath the water. He swayed her slowly as tears gushed down his face. “Come on Y/N. Come back to me,” he croaked. “Tell me to go fuck myself. Anything,” he begged, praying for a reaction. It was futile. Bucky smashed his lips onto the top of her head. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open with a groan. Her body was sore on the brink of death. One look around the room confirmed she nearly died. She visited the medical wing frequently between missions. The injuries she had endured on the missions were nothing in comparison to what she was experiencing now.

A pressure landing on the back of her hand had her head snapping to her side. Bucky sat with his forehead pressed to the back of her hand, a prayer escaping his lips. Y/N furrowed her eyebrows searching for her last memory of Bucky.

The brunette lifted his head, running his fingers through her hair. “You scared me,” his voice was shaky, his eyes never left her face.

“Where’s-”

Bucky snarled, “Your boyfriend? Don’t worry about him, he’s an asshole.”

Y/N flinched. “He didn’t know.”

“That’s not why he’s an asshole. He ran and left you on the bathroom floor to die.” Bucky watched as Y/N processed the new information. The lack of surprise concerned him. He didn’t want to ask, but he needed to know. “Did you know there was alcohol in your drink?”

Y/N scoffed, crossing her arms. “Of course, I didn’t, Bucky. You’re an asshole for leaving me too. I’m pissed at you. I’m not suicidal. You did your good deed. I’m alive. Now you can go back to your Angel.” She spat the last words, parodying his words from the safe house.

Bucky sat back in his seat, rubbing his chin. He hadn’t meant to hurt her. He just wanted to push her away. He pushed too far. He almost lost her. He couldn’t avoid her any longer, she deserved an explanation.

“It wasn’t a lie,” he mumbled. Part of him didn’t want her to hear it, still wanting to starve off the conversation.

“What?”

He took a deep breath, leaning forward. His elbows rested on his knees with his hands clasped in front of him. His face turned serious. “I love you.” Y/N’s heart skipped a beat while her face turned sour. “But I can't be with you.”

A tear rolled down her cheek. “Why are you doing this? Why now?”

Bucky winced at the hurt in her voice. It hurt him too. That’s why he avoided the conversation for so long. “I’m too vulnerable around you. I fall back into my head way too easily. I don’t want to be reminded of my past. Then I met Ang- Evangelina and suddenly, I’m not thinking about all of the people I’ve killed, or the way HYDRA tortured me. With her, I’m living in the present.”

Y/N sat up harshly, the tears had stopped flowing a few sentences ago. “Because you won’t open up to her! You’re running from your problems and the second she’s gone, you’re gonna be stuck in your head again. Alone this time. Sorry, I was only a distraction long enough for you to fuck me. You don’t love her. You love the idea of normalcy with me!” She insisted, jabbing her finger into her chest.

Bucky closed his eyes, his head in his hands.

“For fucks sake, Bucky. She looks like me. This isn’t reality. This isn’t you. You're playing a role in some cheesy romcom. You’re letting her emulate me to fill a spot. She’s my understudy and you know it.”

Bucky ran his hands through his hair before looking up at her. Teary-eyed, he confessed, “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know who I am anymore. I just want to be normal again.” His head rested on his bent arms, leaning against the bed. His back jolted with each sob.

Y/N rubbed between his shoulder blades. “We’re not normal Bucky. None of the Avengers are, but we’re real.” She ran her hand through his hair comfortingly. “You and me, we’re real.”

He wiped his tears, shaking his head, “She’s out looking for a dog for us to adopt.”

Y/N scrunched her nose. They were taking the next step. Before she knows it, they'll be moving in together, getting married, and have a kid on the way.

“I don’t even want a dog. I couldn’t take care of it with my lifestyle. It just seemed like the normal thing to do. Most families have dogs.”

Y/N hated the idea of Bucky considering a family with Evangelina. She knew him better though. “I always took you for a cat person.”

Bucky smiled at her. “Yeah? What about you? Are you a cat person?”

She nodded. “Less work to train. More realistic in our lifestyle.”

Bucky hummed. The idea of them sharing anything both scared and delighted Bucky. “What kind of cat would we get?”

The corner of Y/N’s lips turned upward. Playing along, she didn’t need to think about her answer, she had already thought about it before. “It doesn’t matter, but he’d have to be white so I could see him against all of your black clothes. Although, cat hairs might be a pain before missions.”

Bucky nodded, his elbow on the bed, propped his head up in his hand. His other hand held Y/N’s as his thumb rubbed circles on the back of her hand as she talked. With a raised eyebrow, Bucky asked, “He?”

Y/N nodded, offended he would suggest otherwise. “You know, so I can come home to my boys. Plus, you need more friends. You two can have a guy's night while I’m away.”

“What if I want to come home to my girls?” Bucky argued.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “We’ll let fate decide. Whichever we find first.”

He nodded, agreeing to the compromise. “Alpine.”

“Huh?”

Bucky sighed dreamily, “The name.” It was too easy talking with Y/N about adopting a cat as if they were discussing children. It hadn’t crossed Y/N’s mind yet, but Bucky was aware that he wasn’t thinking of the past. He was thinking of the future. A future with Y/N.

Y/N snorted. It wasn’t the name she would have picked but Bucky liked it. She got to pick the color; it was only fair Bucky got to pick the name. “Alpine it is.”

Three weeks later, Bucky and Y/N welcomed Alpine to their shared room at Avengers Tower. The team melted when they met the feline. Even Evangelina. Despite the breakup, Y/N and Evangelina remained friends. The women were filled with too much grace and poise, not to. A trait Bucky had admired in both of them. It should have unsettled Bucky for them to remain friends, but Bucky knew where he belonged now. He might not know who he was or who he is now, but he was certain his future was Y/N.

[asapeveryday]

A LITTLE BREAK?★彡

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Academic Weapon Reader (as per request)

Warnings: smut (fingering)

Summary: You’ve been so focused on your work, and Paige thinks she needs to show you how to take a break.

A/n: thanku to the anon who requested this 💗 hope I did it sum justice

WHEN you felt her arms wrap around you the first thing you wanted to do was melt into her touch. That’s how it usually was with Paige, her words would make you stumble and the warmth of her body was an immediate distraction.

Not at the moment though. When it came to school, almost nothing could break your focus. Studying is the only thing you have full control over in your life, and as a college student going into a competitive field while dating an extremely sought after and socially successful basketball player there was already many things in your life that were beyond trying to control.

Paige usually understood how important your academics were to you. She was a good student too— perhaps not to the same extent, but she related to the value you put into results.

Her hands grip your body as she nuzzles her face into your neck, her crimped blonde hair tickling your face. She smelt like fresh laundry.

Leaning your head into hers, you sigh and force yourself to shrug her off.

“Not right now, Paigey.”

“Don’t shake me off.” She pouts, faking hurt. “You’ve been working for so fuckin’ long, I’m bored.”

You know the past week hasn’t been the best for the two of you. She’d always had a busy schedule but Paige had been managing sports, school and social life since she was little. You just weren’t on that level of time management yet, so Paige had been slightly neglected. “I know, I know. Just let me finish up and we can go get something to eat.” You mumble, not even thinking. You don’t look up from your work, but you can feel Paige’s cold eyes staring at your back.

“We’re not going out,” she says. “do you even know what time it is?”

When you don’t respond she physically spins you in your chair to face her, effectively breaking your concentration and annoying you. “Bro seriously just let me get this shit done. I already said we’d do something after. You know I need to do well on this.” You snap.

“Who’re you calling bro?” Paige sneers, crossing her arms. “Didn’t you hear me? We’re not doing shit after you study, it’s literally eleven already.”

Eleven? You turn to check the time on your phone and are unhappy to see that she’s right. The screen reads 11:05pm, meaning you’ve been working for hours thinking you’d have the evening free, but you lost track of time and now it was well past curfew. You don’t even bother to respond to Paige, who was looking at you now with an unreadable expression.

You just rest your face in your hands for a moment. You’re so, so tired and yet there’s still so much to be done. Plus, you honestly missed Paige’s company. You hadn’t been pressed against her in days.

“I’m sorry.” You finally say into your hands. “I just…I have so much to do.”

Paige pulls your hands away from your face and holds them in her own. You love when she stands over you like this, it’s never failed to send shivers down your spine at how you have to look up at her. She offers a soft smile.

“I know, baby. Don’t be sorry. I’ve been missing you, you know?”

“I know.” You respond, finally taking her in.

Paige had slept in braids the night before and taken them it before coming to see you, her light hair now beachy waves down her shoulders. She wore a black zip up and grey sweats that hung low on her hips, sometimes revealing the band of her boxer shorts.

“Oh, so you’re gonna ignore me all day and then check me out?” She quips, bring you back to reality.

“Shut up.” You laugh, getting up from the desk and wrapping your arms around her. “I guess I’ve just missed you too.”

“Want me to help you study for a bit?” She asks, stepping back and sitting on your bed.

“Sure.” You reply, but what you really want to say is “I don’t deserve you.”

-

“Ask me the fourth one again”

“Aight.” Paige says, getting out one of your flash cards and scrunching her face up as she reads what you’ve written.

“What are the traits of an organism with P-Pateu’s syndrome? The fuck is that?”

“It means they have an extra 13th autosomal chromosome.” You laugh. She just shakes her head. “You’re not even speaking English right now.”

Before you can even answer the question she whips out another card. “Wait, answer this one. Guess what Paige Bueckers thinks you should do right now?”

“You think you’re so funny.” You roll your eyes. “Paige c’mon, just finish the flash cards and then you have me all night.”

“Baby I think it’s time to take a break.” She says, tossing the cards away. Paige crawls towards you before slowly kissing your lips. Her chapstick is sweet and minty, you can’t help but chase her mouth after she pulls away. “Plus I don’t wanna wait anymore. I want you now.”

She’s eyeing you down so intensely, and suddenly you don’t care about biology right now. You want to see what she does when she wants you, it’s been so long you’ve almost forgotten.

“I guess I can take a little break.” You murmur, feeling your stomach tighten when her tongue darts out to wet her lips.

In a moment you’re caged under her arms, laughing as your head hits your soft pillows. Paige bares a smile so bright it warms your heart, her hair tickling your skin as she plants soft kisses to your face.

“Arms up.” She tuts, swiftly pulling your shirt over your head and letting out a satisfied noise at the sight of your bra-less torso. Her hands meet your breasts as she kisses you softly and you shiver at the feeling of her calloused palms against your skin. She’s usually rough when handling you, but today she is beautifully gentle.

You gasp when she pinches your nipples, which gives her easy access to slip her tongue in your mouth. Paige kisses languidly, her lips are soft and she smirks against your own every time you break from her.

Paige loves speed, aggression and pressure. Sex with her was always exhilarating and exhausting, by the end of nights with her you two were quick to pass out. You enjoyed this, she brought a different kind of rush into your life that way. This slower pace was new to you.

“What’s going on, P?” You manage to get out in between kisses. Maybe she wasn’t going to fuck you, maybe kissing and touching was all for tonight…though it usually wasn’t.

“Don’t wanna stress you out, baby.” She pulls away from you, lips pink and eyes hooded. You recognize the look on her face, it’s more then desire, it’s determination. “Lemme take your mind off of things for a bit.”

Her fingers graze your stomach as they play with the band of your pyjama shorts and she’s eyeing you with a questioning look. When you nod okay to her she slips them down your legs, leaving you topless with your cotton underwear on.

“You’re so cute.” She bites her lip as she unzips her sweater, leaving her in sweats and a black sports bra, her silver chain shining against her skin. You want to scoff at the comment but it ultimately makes you blush and hide your face, to which she lets out a chuckle.

Her fingers are agonizingly soft against the material of your underwear, rubbing the slowest, most teasing circles you’ve ever felt in your life. Her head is buried in your neck, sucking dark hickeys into your skin. “Paige.” You whine. “C’mon now, just touch me for real.”

“So impatient.” She quips, finally taking your last article of clothing off. “Look at you, all wet for me.”

“I missed you Paigey.” You say quietly, opening your legs for her. You can feel her smile against your neck, and you let out a sigh as her finger meets your clit.

You feel yourself melt into a world of pleasure as her hands please you, Paige knows exactly what to do to get you going, except this time with a softness that you’re starting to love. She’s so passionate as she praises you; licking your skin, kissing your lips and pressing her forehead to yours while subtly upping the pressure on your bud, before ultimately slipping her fingers inside of you.

“I love how focused you are all the time.” She murmurs, her hands slowly pumping in and out of you. “It’s so hard for me to stand back and let you do your thing, I just want to be on you all the time.”

You attempt to squeeze your legs shut but her hand roughly pries you open, though the moment of aggression is gone when when she continues to say “Do you know how many times I thought of you this week? So many times. Fuck, every night I thought of having you like this, spread wide open for me.”

“Oh, Paige, oh my god.” You whine, her fingers are quickening now. The noises from your slick and her loud kisses are so lewd it’s driving you insane. Her breath is warm on your skin as she whispers her heart out to you. Paige’s voice was low and almost raspy, almost enough to make you cum on its own.

“I just want you to take it easy when you’re with me, alright?” She says, meeting your eyes. You try your hardest to hold her gaze but it’s so hard when she’s in you like this, her blue eyes staring through you with intensity. You nod at her, but it’s not enough.

“Say it.” She tilts her head, curling her fingers inside of you. “Say you’ll take breaks baby.”

“I-I’ll take breaks P, I’ll take it easy.” You manage to get out, voice wavering. You’re feeling that familiar pressure in your abdomen now as her fingers passionately pump into you, your back arching and legs twitching.

“You promise?” Paige asks. Her hands are going fast now, the sight of her veiny arms between you, her digits disappearing inside of your pussy, it was driving you to the edge.

“I promise, Paige. Please, please.” You throw your head back with pleasure. She keeps up her pace while kissing you sweetly, taking your moans into her mouth and murmuring “yeah, just like that.” until you cum all over her fingers.

She sombrely pulls her hand out from you and presents it to your lips, and you eagerly suck on her fingers. Her gaze is tantalizing, she can’t look away from you even when you’re finished tasting yourself.

You bring your hands to your face and sigh, basking in the post-nut clarity. It felt so rejuvenating to be laying beneath her on your bed, lights low and warm and body buzzing from climax. You weren’t even tired, you just felt amazingly clear headed.

Paige allows her self to put her body weight on you, laying her head on your chest and wrapping her muscular arms around you. “How was that?” She asks, and her tone almost makes you laugh. She’s confident, but always giddy to please you.

“So good.” You smile. “Different, but good. Exactly what I needed.”

Paige just laughs and squeezes you. The feeling of her heart beating by yours, her eyelashes blinking against your skin. You can’t help but feel like this is all you’ll ever truly need.

“You’re not still planning on studying…right?” Paige grumbles, and you let out a heartily chuckle.

“Fuck no, that’s done for the day. I’m all yours.”

[russo-woso]

Jealous girl || Alessia Russo

Warning smut 18+, strap on, fingering, squirting, cunnilingus, breeding kink, face sitting, orgasm denial, dom!alessia, sub!reader

Summary Alessia allows her jealous side to show

If you were being honest, you wanted the night to end how it did.

From the moment you woke up, Alessia had been teasing you.

In fact, before you even woke up.

Alessia decided she was going to make it fun for herself today.

Waking you up, she pressed gently kisses along your neck, before beginning to suck on a part of your neck where she knew you loved.

You let out a muffled moan into the pillow as your senses awoke.

“Less…” You attempted to tell her something but when she whispered a shh to you, you knew that Alessia was in one of her, as you’d always put it, one of her teenage boy moods.

“Relax, baby.” Alessia whispered, her tongue soothing the fast forming red mark on your upper neck.

Moving to tower over you, Alessia connected her lips to your revealed collarbone, nipping and sucking at your delicate skin.

You placed a hand in her hair, pushing her head more into your skin, desperately not wanting her to stop.

Whilst focusing on your lower neck and collarbone, Alessia’s hand travelled down your body, lifting the oversized T-shirt up your torso.

You whined as her fingers connected with your clit, feeling the pleasure you’d wanted.

“Lessi, please don’t tease.” You whispered, a pleading look in your eyes, as Alessia circled her fingers at an agonising pace.

“I’m not teasing, pretty girl.” Alessia told you, clearly lying.

“Please go faster.” You begged

You were close to doing the job yourself but you knew the punishment that would go with it.

“On my face.” Alessia said, gesturing for you to sit on her face.

As you switched to the new position, she took your top off completely, admiring your clothes less body before guiding you onto her face.

“Less, fuck.” You cried as Alessia’s tongue ran through your folds.

“You taste so good, baby.” Alessia mumbled, causing a moan to escape your mouth.

You gripped onto the headboard as Alessia’s mouth roped round your clit, pleasure coursing through you.

You started rolling your hips against her tongue to match her pace.

“Less - fuck - you’re gonna make me cum.” You managed to say between ragged moans and cries.

Alessia’s tongue continued to move against your clit, giving you the perfect amount of pleasure.

Your movements died down as you felt yourself get closer and closer to your longing orgasm so when Alessia grabbed your ass, helping you to move against her, you knew you weren’t going to last long.

“Fuck, ‘m gonna cum. Less, oh god-” You started saying but was cut off by Alessia promptly lifting you off her face.

You have her the most angry look you’d ever given her.

“What a shame, baby, look at the time. Jonas wanted us at the stadium for ten. We best start getting ready.” Alessia pointed out, a smirk clearly evident on her face.

“I hate you.”

“Love you too, pretty girl.”

———————

After a well deserved win against Brighton, the season was over and although you’d finished third in the league, everyone was happy.

You had been eager all day to get back home to finish what you’d started this morning.

The moments shared with Alessia was on your mind constantly throughout the match.

What didn’t help was Alessia made it so difficult to make you forget.

Every chance she got to tease you, she took.

When she scored, she picked you up curing her celebration, squeezing your ass, before whispering, ‘I can’t wait to fuck you tonight.’

Her confidence and randomness shocked you but you pushed, attempted to push, it to the side.

During the regular lap around the field, thanking the fans, you felt Alessia’s hand wrap around your waist, guiding you to the tunnel.

“Less, what—” you begin to ask but was quickly cut off by Alessia shushing you.

“—You’ll see, baby.”

Alessia dragged you to the changing rooms, pushing you against the wall.

“You looked so fucking hot with the new kit.” Alessia told you, before placing her lips on your jaw.

Her hands had a hard grip on your hips, allowing barely any movement.

A whine left your mouth as she sucked at your pulse point, Alessia growing more harsher the more noise that left it.

“Less… please.” You mumbled, trying to focus on speaking but it was hard to when the feeling off Alessia’s mouth was on your neck.

You didn’t know what you pleading for. You didn’t know if you wanted her to continue. You didn’t know if you wanted her to stop.

“Hmm, I think we best stop, don’t you? Don’t want any of the girls walking in do we?” Less pulled away, wiping her thumb over her mouth to break away a string of saliva.

“I really hate you. I really do.” You stated, barging past her and to your cubby.

That’s what lead you to getting revenge.

Going out that night with the team meant that you got to dress up and look your best.

Perfecting your hair and makeup for hours, and picking out the perfect outfit, meant that you could get the bestest revenge on Alessia.

The night started well, you were sat next to Alessia, cuddled up in the corner, making conversation with some of the other girls.

As the drinks started to kick in, some of them decided to head to the dance floor.

You decided to join them too, wanting to make the night memorable and fun.

To begin with, the dancing was harmless, you were dancing with some of your best friends with a massive smile on your face, and Alessia was loving it too. She loved seeing you happy so she was more than enjoying seeing you dancing.

But her smile dropped once she saw a man approaching you.

Your smile turned to a grin once he started speaking to you.

Unknowingly to Alessia, you had a grin on your face because you wanted this to happen, this was your revenge.

Alessia watched on, you and the mystery man dancing as one of his hands rested on your hips, where hers should be.

“Someone’s got your girl, Russo.” A thick Irish accent was heard across the table and for once, Katie was scared by Alessia, the face full of anger would have managed to scare anyone away.

Just as the song finished, you turned to face your teammates but before your eyes could get to them, they were stuck on a very angry looking Alessia.

“Hi, baby.” You smiled, pulling her in for a hug.

You noticed the confusion on the guys face and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“Let’s go.” Alessia commanded, taking your hand in hers and practically pulling you out the bar.

“Less…” you began, not knowing her emotions.

"You're mine, pretty girl. No one else." Alessia began, leading you to the car.

"I know, but-"

"-No buts. You know better." Alessia cut you off, flagging down a taxi, opening the car door, allowing you to get in.

The rest of the way home was silent, the tension slowly building up.

Once Alessia had paid the driver, you entered your house, Alessia immediately pressing you against the hallway wall.

"Be a good girl for me and strip and wait on the bed for me. I'm gonna show you that you're mine."

And with that, you walked ran up the stairs, stripping as soon as you got to the room, leaving you in the red set of lingerie, Alessia's favourite.

You'd put it on when getting ready, hopeful that Alessia would actually get to see it.

“You look gorgeous.” Alessia told you as she walked into the room.

“All for you, lessi.”

“All for me, huh?” Alessia questioned and you nodded.

She approached closer and closer until you could feel her breath on your neck.

“You let somebody else touch you, and nobody touches you. Only I get to touch you.” Alessia repeated similar words from earlier.

“Only you touch me.” You confirmed, looking wide eyed at her, your eyes secretly begging her to do something.

“Good.”

With that, Alessia connected her lips to your neck, sucking the life out of it.

Your hands found her back, trying their hardest to take her shirt off.

Eventually, she pulled away from your neck, allowing you to pull her shirt over her head.

At the same time, her hands wrapped around your back, I clipping your bra, before placing her lips on your hardened nipple.

“That feels good.” You hummed as her tongue swirled around it.

You felt Alessia’s hands work their way down your body, her finger looping round the side of your underwear, pulling them off.

“Less, please no teasing.” You begged and Alessia nodded.

“No teasing, pretty girl. I promise.” Alessia said against your stomach, placing a kiss there and lowering herself.

“Please hurry up.” You whined and Alessia tutted in response.

“Desperate are we?”

“I’ve been waiting all day, baby. Please do—” You began but was cut off by a cry leaving your mouth due to Alessia’s tongue flattening itself across your folds.

“That feel good?” Alessia asked into your pussy, vibrations coursing through you.

“Yes, lessi, so good.” You breathed out, your breath already erratic.

Alessia continued to flick at your clit endlessly, pushing you closer and closer.

“Please don’t stop, baby.”

Your hand was in Alessia’s hair, pushing it more into your pussy.

“Never.”

You knew Alessia was going to let you cum, she was also just as desperate. She wanted to watch you fall apart and know that it was because of her.

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum. Please don’t stop. Please.” You rambled, not really caring what you were saying. “I’m coming. Fuck, less.”

Alessia gently sucked at your clit, allowing you to ride out your high.

“You taste so good.” Alessia shamelessly moaned into your pussy as she licked your juices. “Stay here, baby.” Alessia commanded, leaving you to catch your breath as she walked to your closet and reached for the box at the top, pulling out the biggest strap you owned.

You felt yourself drip even more at the thought of it in you.

“On your knees.” Alessia stated, helping you onto your hands and knees. “Good girl.”

You let out a muffled moan at the praise, as you buried your face in the bed, awaiting for what was about to happen.

Alessia rested a hand on your back, her thumb rubbing over it, whilst she guided the tip in.

With ease, the strap entered you and Alessia continued to thrust in until her hips met you.

“That’s it, good girl.” Alessia said, grabbing your hips.

You let out a cry as Alessia pulled out and thrusted back in.

After a few slow thrusts, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Please go faster, baby.”

To your surprise, Alessia actually listened and sped her movements, causing pleasure to run through your body.

“Fuck, baby, you look so perfect.” Alessia told you, as you moaned uncontrollably into the duvet.

A loud smack was heard as a bright red mark appeared on your ass.

Alessia grabbed it and massaged it whilst thrusting in and out of you.

“Fuck, you feel so good, less. I’m gonna cum.”

“I’m gonna cum too, pretty girl. Gonna fill you with my cum and make you a mummy. God, you’d be such a pretty mummy. Gonna be pregnant with my baby. Mine. Not his. Not anyone else’s. Mine.” Alessia rambled, her eyes closed at the thought.

“Let me have your baby, less. Cum in me, please.”

“I will, baby.”

Lifting a leg on to the bed, Alessia pounded into you harder and faster, hitting your g-spot perfectly.

Without warning, clear liquid shot out your pussy, soaking Alessia’s abdomen and the duvet.

Your moans were muffled as your arms gave way and your face buried in the duvet.

“Fuck, pretty girl, I love it when you squirt.” Alessia said, rubbing your back as she slowed her movements to not overstimulate you.

“Fuck.” You mumbled, tired, as Alessia helped you into a comfortable position.

“You were amazing, baby.” Alessia gently kissed your head after you rested it on her chest.

“I mean, I’ve been waiting all day.” You told her. “I even purposefully let a man touch me so I could cum.”

“Naughty girl.” Alessia tutted, a small smirk on her face as she realised your plan. “You’re mine though, no one else’s.”

“I’m yours, lessi. No one else’s.” You told her, melting into her.

“Good.”

“My jealous girl.”

[starrynights-sunnyskies]

mine to save ⋆*·ﾟmisa x femreader

tension rises when you are tackled, right in front of misa’s nose. instead of yelling at her backline for getting them a penalty, misa is mad that her teammate has hurt her girlfriend.

Matches like these were both a blessing and a curse— for you’d finally have some time to see each other again after weeks of working for your designated clubs, but it also meant that one of you would be left disappointed with the results of the match. Still, to Misa, it was worth every defeat to see her favourite girl again in the flesh, preferably with the biggest grin on your face. That did not mean Misa would not give it her all while underneath the post for the entirety of the match, which was exactly why she needed no distractions. Misa never really had any problem to switch her focus on while stepping onto the field, and even if the sight of you running around near her was tempting to distract her, she still only had focus on the ball and the player making it move. She knew she had most of the next day to give you all the attention you deserved, but right now, that attention had to be focused elsewhere. That hadn’t stopped her from sneaking her usual mischievous grin your way when the two of you shook hands, though. The fact that it never failed to spur on some kind of blush on your face filled her with even more confidence. So as she ran up to her goal, she knew this was going to be a good day. Her girlfriend was in her line of sight, breathing the same air, and no longer only on her screen, the sun was out and she had a match to play, what could go wrong?

Well, she could lose said match, and she’d be pretty damn mad about it if she did, because she’d blame it on herself mostly, but she’d take the hit if that meant you would be sporting that big and beautiful grin of yours. Only, you weren't. Your bottom lip was curled inside and trapped beneath your teeth as your eyebrows were set in furious frustration. Misa would have found it adorable in any other situation, especially if she’d been the one to block your goal and then sent a wink your way, but the backline of Real Madrid just wouldn’t budge and let you through. Granted, that was their job. Misa was fine with that, if anything, it made her own job more easier and their win within reach, but she knew how frustrating a game could be when it did not go in your favour. That no matter the tactic that had been practised over and over, was not coming to fruition. It didn’t help that your team was mostly playing you long balls to surpass the midfield, leaving you standing isolated from the others and having to outwit Real’s defending wall by yourself. After the 39nth minute, Athenea’s shot hit the back of the net, heightening the stakes and the frustrations even more. It had become a physical match, consisting of shoves, tackles, pulls and harsh collisions. Just no cards yet, though that was waiting to happen next. It probably hadn’t happened yet because both teams could be equally blamed, and that would leave either team with little to no players left on the field.

Next, some through balls were intervened before they even reached you, and after glancing to the sidelines every so often and realising the coach had no plans of changing tactics yet, you balled your fists and disappeared off the pitch at halftime in lightning speed. 

This behaviour was not foreign to Misa, so she followed after her team to the locker room. Football was a passionate sport, one she could lose herself in in the same way you did, and you were a passionate player. It was one of the things she loved so deeply about you. Not that a lot of people knew, of course. She never really saw use in mixing work with pleasure and although, yes, dating a fellow futbolista was blurring those lines a bit, she would never give her girlfriend special treatment when on the pitch.

“Looks like she’s been missing you like crazy, the way she’s been bullying us to get to you.” Olga glanced at her, playfully raising an eyebrow, knowing of the couple.

“More like you're bullying her,” Misa raised her eyebrow in return, challenging her, but the grin on her face mirrored her lightheartedness.

“I’m not going to take it easy on her, if that’s what you mean.”

“She’s just another player on the pitch for me. Can’t have my career jeopardised because I froze on purpose to let my girlfriend score against me.”

“Ice cold, you are,” Olga laughed, “But that’s only if they get through us. We’re holding up well so far.”

Misa hummed while taking a sip from her bottle. She wiped her chin dry, “Hm, thank you for that. I’d rather you deny her a goal. I do not want to sleep on the couch tonight if I end up stopping their first attempt.”

Olga rolled her eyes, “That’s not going to happen and you know it.”

“Best to be safe.” 

“I mean, she does seem scary. The way she growled when she got smacked down or shoved against us! Girl has attitude.” Raso piped up from beside them, having heard bits from their conversation, “Just a bit, though…” She quickly added when she noticed Misa’s stare. 

But to Misa, passion was passion. And as much passion and love you had for the game, you also had in multitude for her. The goalie suddenly turned chipper, her expression brightening as she stood up to get back on the field.

“I know. Isn’t she the best?”

As the whistle blew again, Misa noticed the fury had only barely left your body— your shoulders still held tension and your gaze still spat fire. The sight shouldn’t have worked her up the way it had, but she couldn’t help it. There was something extremely alluring and, dare she say it- incredibly hot -  knowing that you had this side to you as well, in stark contrast to your usual soft and giddy demeanour off the pitch. It was normally the other way around, with her being the fiery one. She loved whenever you got like this. When you would fight, not flee. Whenever your looks could kill, albeit unknowingly. Misa had only seen it a handful of times before and each time it had left her feeling primal. But this was not the time to let that feeling take over. She was at work, there were eyes on her, and she’d already been tagged in the occasional post that suggested the two of you were a couple. It wasn’t like she was ashamed of herself or her relationship, no, quite the opposite. But Misa was protective over the small pink cloud she’d been on ever since being with you and, to be completely honest, she was too greedy and wanted no one to be let in on their love. It was all yours and yours only. Misa had never really been like that before. Granted, this was her first serious relationship, and if it were up to her, also her last.  Still, she could tell that this was special, nothing ordinary. The real deal. She was protective and dominate in the sense that her hand would always hover on your lower back, she'd hand you her jacket or have a bag with snacks and other necessities at the ready for you. She’d always drive the car and open a door or sent a nasty glare towards anyone making you uncomfortable. Since day one, she had promised herself to make life the best it could be for her girlfriend. She’d picked up on your tells, knew what you liked and hated simply by reading your face. She could tell when you needed her, or when you needed some space. Communication was hardly ever needed when Misa always already seemed to know what you thought or felt. It surprised you, at first, how considerate and caring she was. It also embarrassed you for ever thinking the girl didn't have it in her. In your defence, that side had only come out when the two of you had gotten closer. You'd quickly understood that Misa was a guarded person when it came to letting someone in further than surface level, and that made the roar of pride and love you held for her burn at the realisation that she'd let you in. Waters run deep, and Misa had been the deepest damn part of the ocean at first, but here you were now. You were hers, and she was yours.

Misa never really thought too much about it like that. She just loved you more than she ever knew she could love someone. It was a simple fact, not something she pulled apart to examine. She treated you like a princess, simply because that was exactly what you deserved. Treating you to the best of her capabilities wasn't even a chore. She loved it all. It had even been an ongoing joke within your shared group of friends that Misa mirrored the behaviour of that of a lion and her cubs, but that was just the way Misa was when in love. Fiercely protective, incredibly loyal and with an abundance of love and adoration to give to those she cared for. And just to your luck, there was only one name her heart was chanting over and over again. It was admirable, endearing even, that someone could love so hard. It had only ever gotten her in trouble once, when you had tagged along to a club with Misa’s national team friends and a guy had cornered you on your to the restroom. It had ended the night abruptly with a calm but firm warning to leave the club, but it had also kept you out of harms way. A fair deal, if you asked her. 

It was evident right from the start that your team had changed things up. The formation had changed, for starters. The gap between midfield and you had closed up and the defence seemed to stay behind more, guarding the wings. No more long balls, but quick-fire attacking play. With Real’s change to press more on the attack during this half, it left spaces between defending players large enough for the opposing team to work around. Misa’s voice bellowed across the field as she warned her backline to fall back, having seen through the next attack. They quickly did, and so your team retaliated a bit, passing and playing to find open spaces or to lure the defence out. A bad pass and Real was at play again, pushing forward and closing spaces to prevent a counter. But you hovered around, eyes squinted and focused on the ball and the placement of your teammates. You were closing in on Real Madrid, just as you’d practised. It was a surprise intercepted tackle that left Raso without the ball, looking backwards to see how it had gone back into play.

On her side of the pitch, with a little more overview, Misa saw before the rest how you ran in line with the ball flying through the air— eyes focused on it like a hawk to try and not fuck this up by being too eager and thus running off-side.

“Oye!” Misa yelled at her backline, who caught on just as quickly. She watched as your form neared and Misa tried to anticipate how to block out the goal. She was used to running out and taking the ball out of play the ballsy way, but also knew that you were unpredictable thanks to your broad skillset. If she ran out, she wouldn’t put it past you to not cheekily chip it over her head before she had a chance. If she stayed on the line, she knew that you’d just sent the ball flying into the far outer corner, just out of her reach. If she waited a little longer to try and use her gift to read you so effortlessly during football as well, then maybe the momentum would already be gone.

Then she saw it. Even if it was only the slightest inclination to your next movement, Misa knew— you were going to shoot it in the far corner, having felt the defenders of Real Madrid closely behind you and knowing they would not let you get any step closer to the goal if you didn’t act soon. Misa shuffled to the right side, anticipating your shot when she saw Olga appear behind you. She heard the thump of your body dropping against the ground like a bag of sand, the grunt that left your throat and the crowd that went haywire as you came to a nasty fall in the penalty box. The ref immediately ran over, the red card dooming high above Olga’s face. But that wasn’t the only red thing on the pitch.

Misa saw red. Seethed. Glared. Grind her teeth together and locked her jaw. Olga listened to the ref, while you were still on your stomach, turning your hands to see the burn marks of your fall and slowly pushing yourself up on your knees. A blur of bright green approached you in a flash and a large glove was protectively placed on your shoulder.

“I’m okay, only some burns.” You immediately reassured, having seen the painfully worried look on Misa’s face. She hated whenever you were hurt or sad, and if you didn't know any better, you'd say she'd usually feel just as sad or hurt whenever you did. If only such a thing was possible, you knew Misa would always swap places with you so you didn't have to feel it. She looked into your eyes to find the confirmation, her gaze soft and caring, until it hardened again when she looked back up at hearing the squabble happening behind you. She gave you a curt nod as she carefully helped you back to your feet. You shook out your limbs a bit and dusted the grass of your kit when that same flash of neon green whizzed by you in your peripheral. She put herself right within the circle of arguing players and the referee. But where other Real players where trying to get the ref on their side, Misa immediately turned to Olga, joining your teammates. 

“What was that?! Was that necessary?”

Olga, surprised at the sudden turn of conversation, took in Misa’s intimidating form looming over her. 

“That was mine to save, not yours.” Misa continued.

It was painfully clear that Misa's outburst was about the tackle with the amount of passion she spat her words and how she’d checked up on you earlier, not the penalty it had bestowed against her team. 

Olga put up her hands, knowing there was no calming Misa down right now. Not when she was in game-mode and, hells, not when she'd just hurt her girlfriend.

“Easy, alright, I’m sorry. I miscalculated.”

“Yeah, you did,” Misa felt the ref’s hand push her back, heard the warnings of getting a card, then another set of hands, Raso, who gently pulled her back, before a more familiar touch gently held onto her underarm. 

“It’s okay, shake it off, I’m okay.” She heard from behind her, your thumb grazing over her tattoos. Posing as a barrier, she stood in front of you, one of her gloved hands behind, careful to keep you there, watching with squinted eyes as the group of players dispersed when the ref blew the whistle and pointed to the penalty spot. 

“I’m not taking it,” She heard you say and she immediately whipped around. 

She knew you were only saying so as to not put Misa in even more of a mental predicament, but she didn’t want you tapping out of what could be an opportunity to put another goal behind your name.

“Que?! No, you were done wrong, so you’re taking it.” Immediately back into focus, she walked to the line, looking everywhere except at you, not wanting to heighten your nerves. Perhaps she’d been a little too harsh, but there were still eyes on her and she didn’t want to give anyone watching even more to gossip about— she’d simply make it up to you later. After all, on the pitch, you were just any other football player to her… even if she’d just yelled at her own teammate for taking you down, and not even for the right reasons. 

Adrenaline coursed through her veins. She reached her arms up, bounced on her toes and then clenched and unclenched her hands into fists. She was ready. But were you? Finally, she had to avert her eyes to you. Your chest expanded with the big breath you took, digging the points of your cleats into the grass to get more grip in your shoe. Four steps back. Hands beside your hips. Pulling your jersey down. Adjusting your right sock. Misa knew this by heart, even if she’d only ever had you in front of her goal for penalties during training on your time off together.

The shrill sound of the whistle rang across the pitch. 

She could practically see the strength amping up in your legs on your run to the ball. Your left hip was slightly off, the weight in your body more to the right and as you leaned back, even ever so slightly, she knew you were going for the far right corner, perhaps the same thing you'd had in mind before you had been taken down. You knew she'd know this, maybe you were trying to not give yourself the advantage over her by doing this, but Misa was not going to sit back and let it soar in.

Misa jumped, reached out, her fingertips grazing the ball before it hit the lower side of the bar and hit the net after an echoing clink. The crowd went haywire again, this time for a more positive outcome. 

Misa took the loss in stride and watched as you took your win in quite a similar way. Then, as everyone went back to their positions, she couldn’t help but have to bite back a cheeky grin— she’d almost gotten in trouble for you again, but once more, it had been a fair exchange for your happiness. 

⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ

© 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗵, 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲, 𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘁 𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗱𝘂𝗰𝗲 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝘆.🖤

[goldfades]

I DON'T WANT YOU LIKE A BEST FRIEND───JOE BURROW

request: Can you write a joe burrow one shot about so high school 🥰🥰 Or if you’ve already done that, then the song dress

ev's notes: this was supposed to be a blurb. keyword: supposed to. i got a bit carried away, but how can you not when it comes to taylor? also, we all love LSU joe

The first time you saw Joe Burrow, he was standing on the edge of a practice field, helmet in hand, a picture of quiet confidence. His buzzcut was sharp enough to catch the late Louisiana sun, and you remember thinking he looked like the kind of guy who had his entire life planned out. It was almost intimidating how effortless he made everything seem—throwing perfect spirals, cracking jokes in the locker room, balancing the weight of a team on his shoulders. But then, somehow, you found yourself next to him during a random group project in Sports Management 201, and everything changed.

You didn’t become best friends overnight. Joe wasn’t exactly the “overshare everything in one go” type, and you, well, you had walls of your own. But there was an ease between you, the kind that turned study sessions into late-night deep dives about life and childhood and everything in between. By the time sophomore year rolled around, you were inseparable. You’d sit on the floor of his apartment during game weekends, surrounded by a haze of pizza boxes and team gear, and think, This is it. This is my person.

But somewhere along the way, the easy edges of your friendship began to blur. Maybe it was the way Joe looked at you during one of those low-stakes nights, his gaze lingering just a little too long. Or maybe it was the time you patched him up after a particularly brutal hit on the field—his voice low and rough as he muttered, “What would I do without you?” Either way, the shift was small but seismic, like an earthquake rumbling beneath your feet before you even realized it was happening.

You couldn’t pinpoint when you started noticing the details. The golden flecks in his otherwise blue eyes, the way his laugh hitched just slightly when he found something truly funny, or the way his voice softened when he said your name. You tried to ignore it at first, chalking it up to some misplaced admiration for your best friend, but the feelings were stubborn, refusing to be tucked away neatly. They buzzed under your skin, electric and impossible to ignore, leaving you breathless whenever he was near.

And then there was the dress. A stupid, impulsive decision born out of frustration and hope, hanging in your closet like a secret you weren’t ready to admit. You’d told yourself you bought it because you deserved something new, something fun. But deep down, you knew the truth.

You weren’t supposed to want him like this. You were supposed to be his confidante, his teammate, his best friend. But every lingering glance, every accidental brush of hands, every inside joke that felt too personal—it all built up, layering itself into something you couldn’t unravel even if you tried. And now, sitting in the dim glow of your shared favorite bar, watching him laugh at something trivial, you wonder if he feels it too.

If he notices the way you can’t quite meet his eyes for too long. If he knows that every smile he sends your way makes your chest tighten. If he realizes that every secret moment you’ve shared has carved itself into your memory like a golden tattoo you’ll never erase.

You don’t want him like a best friend. Not anymore.

The bass from the speakers thrums through the walls of the house, rattling the beer bottles on every flat surface. The air smells like spilled alcohol, cheap cologne, and too many bodies crammed into one space. It's chaos, but the best kind, the kind you’ve come to associate with game days at LSU—sweaty, celebratory, and electric. Tonight, the Tigers pulled off a win that had everyone on their feet, screaming until their voices cracked, and the party is nothing short of a victory lap.

You’re deep in a circle of friends, the buzz of alcohol warming your veins and making you laugh harder than you have in weeks. The strain of classes, late nights, and endless football schedules has melted away, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you let yourself relax. Someone hands you a drink—something neon and probably terrible—but you take it anyway, raising it in a toast to nothing and everything. It feels good to let loose, to drown out the noise in your head with the noise of the crowd.

And then you see him.

Joe is across the room, leaning casually against the kitchen counter like he owns the place. His LSU cap is turned backward, and his smile is as easy and devastating as ever. You can tell he’s in his element, surrounded by teammates and admirers, his laugh cutting through the din of the party. You feel it in your chest like a physical thing, a pull you’ve never been able to explain but have stopped trying to fight.

But it’s not just Joe that catches your attention. It’s the girl next to him.

She’s gorgeous, the kind of gorgeous that turns heads and stops conversations. She’s leaning in close, her perfectly manicured hand resting on his arm, saying something that makes him laugh. Not just any laugh—the kind that crinkles the corners of his eyes, the kind you thought was reserved for the two of you. Your stomach twists, sharp and sudden, like you’ve just swallowed something bitter.

You try to look away, to focus on anything else—the half-empty drinks in front of you, the sticky floor beneath your shoes, the laughter of your friends—but your gaze keeps drifting back, helplessly tethered to the sight of them. She’s laughing now, tossing her hair over her shoulder, and Joe’s watching her like she’s the only person in the room.

The nausea hits you like a wave. It’s not subtle, not something you can breathe through and ignore. It rises quickly, making your throat tighten and your head spin. You set your drink down on the nearest surface, ignoring the shouts of your friends as you mumble something about needing a break.

The hallway to the bathroom feels like a mile long, each step heavy and unsteady. The crowd thins as you move away from the main party, the noise dulling to a low hum. You push open the bathroom door and lock it behind you, gripping the sink to steady yourself. The fluorescent light overhead is harsh, making everything feel too bright, too real.

You glance up at the mirror, and there it is: the blue dress.

You bought it on a whim, a little too expensive for your budget but too perfect to leave behind. Joe had told you once, in passing, that blue was your color. It had been a throwaway comment, something he probably didn’t even remember, but it had stuck with you. When you saw the dress, you thought of him, of the way his eyes softened when he looked at you, of the way he said your name like it was something special. You’d wanted to impress him, to feel like you could belong in the world he so effortlessly ruled.

Now, staring at your reflection, the dress feels like a cruel joke. The silky fabric clings to you in all the right places, the color vibrant against your skin, but it doesn’t matter. Not when Joe is out there, smiling at someone else like she’s the only thing that matters.

Your hands grip the edge of the sink, knuckles turning white. The nausea is still there, but now it’s tangled with something else—anger, humiliation, heartbreak. It’s overwhelming, and for a moment, you think you might actually cry. But you don’t. You can’t. Not here, not now.

You take a shaky breath, forcing yourself to stand up straighter. The dress still looks good, you think, even if it feels tainted now. You smooth the fabric down with trembling hands, telling yourself that it doesn’t matter, that Joe doesn’t matter. But deep down, you know it’s a lie.

He’s always mattered.

You take another deep breath, the kind that feels like it’s dragging through every nerve in your body, and push yourself away from the sink. The girl in the mirror stares back at you, her lips pressed into a determined line, her eyes just a little glassy. Maybe from the drink. Maybe not. Either way, you’re done hiding in this bathroom like a cliché in some bad movie.

Joe can talk to whoever he wants. He’s not yours. He never has been. But you? You’re not going to let one moment ruin your night. Not when the music is still pumping, your friends are still laughing, and—let’s be honest—you’re in a frat house. There are plenty of boys here who would love to talk to a girl like you, especially in this dress.

A smile tugs at the corner of your lips, small but defiant, as you fix your hair and smooth your dress one last time. If Joe wants to waste his night with someone else, fine. You have no shortage of options.

The noise of the party hits you the moment you step back into the hallway, a tidal wave of music and laughter and the unmistakable sound of someone shouting “chug, chug, chug!” You weave your way through the crowd, ignoring the tightness in your chest when you pass the kitchen and see him still standing there, leaning closer to that girl. Instead, you head straight for the living room, where the crowd is thick, the lights are dim, and the music feels like it’s coming from inside your chest.

You position yourself near the edge of the dance floor, close enough to seem approachable but not so close that you’re desperate. It doesn’t take long. It never does at a frat party, especially when you’re wearing a dress like this one.

The first guy approaches within minutes. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, and definitely a little drunk. His grin is lopsided as he leans in, yelling over the music. “Hey! You’re way too cute to be standing here by yourself. What’s your name?”

You force a smile, polite but not overly enthusiastic. “Thanks. I’m just waiting for my friends.”

He doesn’t take the hint. “Well, they’re not here right now, are they?” He takes a step closer, the smell of beer and sweat rolling off him in waves. “Lucky me.”

You laugh awkwardly, trying to keep some space between you. He’s not bad-looking, you’ll give him that, but there’s something about the way his eyes linger on you that makes your skin crawl. It’s like he’s not looking at you, but at the dress, the shape of your body, the idea of what you might let him get away with. It’s unsettling, and the longer he talks, the more you want to disappear.

“So,” he says, leaning in even closer, “you here with anyone? Or are you single tonight?”

You hesitate, the words catching in your throat. Normally, you’d have brushed this guy off by now, forced a polite smile and ducked away before things got too awkward. But tonight isn’t normal. Tonight, you’re wearing this stupid blue dress for a boy who doesn’t even notice you’re alive, who’s too busy laughing with someone else to care that you’re here, trying not to drown in your feelings. And maybe it’s the alcohol humming in your veins, or maybe it’s the weight of everything pressing down on your chest, but you don’t brush him off.

Instead, you tilt your head and smile, the kind of smile you’ve never given to anyone but Joe. “Single.”

His grin widens, and he takes another step closer, his hand finding your waist like it’s the most natural thing in the world. It feels wrong and right all at once—wrong because he’s not Joe, but right because at least someone is looking at you like you matter. His voice is low, almost a murmur now. “Lucky me.”

You laugh, a sound that feels foreign to your own ears, and let him guide you further into the crowd, where the music is loud enough to drown out your thoughts. His hands are confident but not pushy, and when he leans down, his lips brushing against yours, you don’t stop him.

You kiss him back. At first, it’s awkward, more about the motion than any real feeling, but as the seconds pass, you give in, letting the alcohol and the haze of the moment carry you. His hands slide down to your hips, pulling you closer, and you let him. You let him because it’s easier than admitting that the only person you really want to be kissing doesn’t want you back.

You’re not sure how long it lasts—minutes, maybe hours—but the world blurs into a mess of noise and heat, and you lose yourself in it. You don’t notice the weight of another gaze until it’s too late.

“[Your Name].”

Your name isn’t loud, but it cuts through everything like a knife. The music, the chatter, the blood pounding in your ears—all of it fades the second you hear his voice. Joe’s voice.

You pull back from the guy, your head spinning as you turn to find Joe standing a few feet away. His cap is gone now, his hair slightly mussed, and his expression is unreadable. But his eyes—those blue eyes you’ve memorized in a thousand different shades—are filled with something you can only describe as hurt. It hits you like a punch to the gut.

“Joe,” you manage, your voice shaky, but he doesn’t respond right away. He just looks at you, his jaw tight, his hands curled into fists at his sides.

You barely hear him. Your focus is locked on Joe, on the way his shoulders tense and his gaze flickers between you and the guy. When he finally speaks, his voice is quiet but razor-sharp, like he’s trying to keep something dangerous from slipping out. “Didn’t realize you were… busy.”

The guy behind you shifts awkwardly, clearing his throat. “Uh, I didn’t—”

“She’s drunk,” Joe cuts him off, his tone flat but laced with something that feels too heavy, too sharp to be just irritation. His eyes don’t leave yours, even as he continues, his jaw tight. “You know that, right?”

The words hit you like a slap, and your stomach twists in both anger and embarrassment. You straighten up, the haze of alcohol doing little to dull the heat that creeps up your neck. “Joe, I’m fine. Don’t—”

“No, you’re not,” he snaps, his attention finally shifting to the guy, who looks like he’d rather be anywhere else right now. “Get lost.”

“Hey, man, I didn’t mean any harm,” the guy says, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender. “She seemed into it.”

“Yeah, well, she’s not,” Joe bites back, taking a step forward. There’s a warning in his voice, low and simmering, and the guy takes the hint, backing away with a muttered excuse before disappearing into the crowd.

You whip around to face Joe, your chest heaving. “What the hell is your problem?”

“My problem?” His laugh is bitter, his eyes narrowing as he looks at you. “What are you even doing, [Your Name]? You’re drunk. And you’re letting some random guy—”

“I know exactly what I’m doing,” you interrupt, your voice rising to match his. The heat in your face isn’t just from the alcohol anymore; it’s from the way he’s looking at you, like you’re some reckless child who needs saving. “I’m not a kid, Joe. I don’t need you to swoop in and play hero.”

His hands curl into fists at his sides, and for a moment, he doesn’t say anything, just stares at you like he’s trying to figure out what to do next. When he finally speaks, his voice is quieter but no less intense. “You don’t see it, do you? The way guys like that look at you. They don’t care about you, [Your Name]. They just see an easy target.”

You flinch at his words, the sting of them sharper than you expect. “You don’t get to decide what I do or who I talk to, Joe. You don’t own me.”

“Damn it, I’m trying to protect you!” His voice cracks slightly, the frustration and something else—something softer, almost desperate—breaking through. “Do you have any idea how bad this could’ve gone? What if I hadn’t been here?”

“I didn’t ask you to save me!” Your voice is shaking now, the emotion bubbling up faster than you can contain it. “You think you’re protecting me, but all you’re doing is acting like you know better than I do.”

For a moment, the two of you just stand there, the weight of the argument hanging heavy between you. Around you, the party continues, oblivious to the storm brewing in this corner of the room.

Joe runs a hand through his hair, his expression shifting into something you can’t quite read. Hurt? Anger? Both? “You don’t get it,” he says finally, his voice low. “You never get it.”

“Then explain it to me,” you shoot back, your own voice raw now. “Because all I see is you barging in and making me feel like some helpless idiot.”

His jaw clenches, his hands flexing like he’s holding back something volcanic. When he finally moves, it’s not to storm off—it’s to step closer, his hand wrapping around your arm with just enough pressure to make you pause, though not enough to hurt. His grip is warm and steady, grounding in a way that feels infuriating right now.

“That’s enough,” he says, his voice low but firm. There’s no anger in it, no edge, just a quiet certainty that only makes you bristle more. “You’ve had enough for tonight.”

You yank your arm back, but his hold doesn’t falter. “I’m fine, Joe,” you snap, your voice sharp and defensive. The alcohol in your veins has burned away just enough to leave you teetering on the edge of indignation. “I don’t need you babysitting me.”

He doesn’t respond, his eyes meeting yours with a calm intensity that only fuels your frustration. “Let me go,” you demand, your voice rising. “Seriously, Joe. You can’t just decide—”

“You’re drunk,” he cuts in quietly, his tone unshakable, almost maddeningly patient. “And this isn’t you.”

Your stomach twists, the words hitting a nerve you didn’t realize was exposed. “Oh, so now you’re the expert on me?” you fire back, your voice trembling slightly as you try to pull away again. “You don’t get to tell me who I am or what I can do. I’m not some little kid you need to take care of!”

He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t yell, doesn’t even argue. He just lets you rail against him, his expression remaining infuriatingly steady as he starts guiding you through the crowd, his hand never leaving your arm. You’re too angry to notice the way people glance your way, their conversations pausing as they watch Joe Burrow, the golden boy of LSU, calmly escort you out of the frat house like it’s a routine play he’s run a hundred times before.

“Joe, let me go!” you yell again, louder this time, but your voice bounces off the walls of the crowded room and fades into the noise of the party. He doesn’t respond. He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t even look back.

By the time you’re outside, the cool night air hits you like a slap, the contrast between the crisp breeze and the stuffy warmth of the party jarring enough to momentarily stall your protests. Joe finally lets go of your arm but stands in front of you, his broad frame blocking the house and everyone in it from view.

You glare at him, crossing your arms as you try to steady your breathing. “What the hell is your problem?”

“My problem?” he echoes, his voice still calm, though there’s a hint of something sharper underneath. “My problem is watching you let some random guy take advantage of you because you’ve had too much to drink. My problem is knowing you’re going to regret this in the morning.”

“And you think dragging me out of there like I’m some damsel in distress is going to fix that?” you snap, your chest heaving with the force of your words. “You don’t get to control me, Joe!”

“I’m not trying to control you,” he says, his voice quieter now, but no less firm. “I’m trying to protect you.”

“From what?” you demand, throwing your hands up. “From having fun? From making my own choices?”

“From getting hurt,” he says, and the words are so soft, so raw, that they stop you in your tracks. For a moment, all you can do is stare at him, the anger in your chest giving way to something heavier, something harder to ignore.

His eyes meet yours, and for the first time tonight, you see the cracks in his calm façade. There’s something unsteady in the way he’s looking at you, like he’s balancing on a knife’s edge, trying not to fall. “I care about you, okay? More than I probably should. So yeah, maybe I overstepped, but I’m not going to stand there and watch you make decisions that aren’t you, not when I know you’re going to hate yourself for it tomorrow.”

The weight of his words hangs in the air, heavy and unrelenting. You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. Because for all your anger, all your frustration, there’s a part of you that knows he’s right. And it terrifies you.

Joe takes a step back, running a hand through his hair as he exhales slowly, like he’s trying to steady himself. “If you want to go back in there, I won’t stop you. But I had to try.”

He turns to leave, his shoulders tense, and for the first time tonight, you feel the weight of everything crashing down all at once.

You watch him for a second, the silence stretching between you, thick and tangled with everything unsaid. The words you want to say sit at the back of your throat, but they won’t come. Instead, you take a deep breath, the cold air doing little to cool the fire in your chest, and you follow him.

Joe’s footsteps are steady and purposeful, like he’s not even thinking about the fact that you’re trailing behind him, but somehow you can’t bring yourself to be mad at him anymore. Your anger dissipates in the quiet of the night, swallowed up by the calm that surrounds you both. The sounds of the party fade away as you walk down the street toward your apartment, the rhythmic tap of your heels on the sidewalk oddly soothing.

You keep your gaze fixed ahead, not meeting his eyes. For once, the noise in your head is quieter than the pounding of your heart, but still, you can’t shake the nagging feeling that something's missing.

You finally glance at him out of the corner of your eye. His face is shadowed in the streetlights, but you can still make out the tight line of his jaw, the furrow in his brow. He doesn’t look at you, his focus trained straight ahead, and for some reason, it makes your chest ache.

Neither of you speaks, the tension between you thick but not unbearable. It’s the kind of silence that feels like it’s holding its breath, waiting for something to shift, for someone to break. But you don’t. Not yet.

By the time you reach your apartment door, the quiet feels heavier than the air itself. You fumble with your keys for a moment, your fingers trembling just enough to make it harder than usual to find the right one.

"Here," Joe says, his voice low, and you glance up just in time to see him stepping forward, his hand brushing against yours as he takes the keys from you. He unlocks the door in a smooth motion, and before you can even think to thank him, he speaks again.

“I—”

“You looked good tonight,” he says, cutting you off softly. His voice is steady, but there’s something in it that makes your stomach flip, an edge of vulnerability you weren’t expecting. His eyes meet yours then, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “The dress. I liked it.”

The words hang in the air for a moment, and it feels like the ground beneath you shifts, like the world tilts on its axis and sets you spinning. You stare at him, your heart beating too fast, and then—without warning—you’re smiling.

It’s not forced or awkward. It’s real, stretching across your face in a way that makes the weight in your chest lift just a little. And then he’s smiling too, that familiar grin that’s been burned into your memory for years, and suddenly, everything feels lighter.

“Thanks,” you manage, your voice quieter now, softer. You glance down at the fabric of your dress, smoothing it out as if to steady yourself. “I wasn’t sure if it was my color.”

“It is,” he says, and there’s no hesitation in his voice, just certainty. “Blue suits you.”

You blink, staring at him, at the way he’s looking at you now—open, earnest, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Something in his eyes shifts, like he’s trying to gauge whether you’ll believe him, whether you’ll understand the weight behind those words. And you do.

A smile spreads across your face before you can even stop it. It’s like all the pieces of this night fall into place, clicking together, and for the first time in hours, you feel lighter. The alcohol fades to a dull buzz in the back of your mind, replaced by a warmth that starts in your chest and spreads outward, filling you up from the inside.

“I’m glad you like it,” you say softly, the words slipping out before you even think about them. You’re not even sure who you’re trying to convince. Maybe him. Maybe yourself.

He smiles back, that familiar, crooked grin that makes your heart stutter in your chest. And just like that, you know.

The tension between you two, the hurt, the anger—it’s all still there, but it’s fading, slipping away with each breath you take, with each passing moment. The connection you’ve both been avoiding is right there, in the space between you, unspoken but understood.

Without thinking, without hesitating, you step forward. The words leave your mouth before your brain can stop them.

“Do you want to come in?”

For a second, he doesn’t answer. He just looks at you, his expression unreadable, like he’s trying to figure out what’s real and what’s not. But then the smile returns, a little softer, a little more vulnerable this time, and he steps closer, his hand brushing against yours again.

“I’d like that.”

You step aside, holding the door open for him, and as he crosses the threshold into your apartment, the world outside fades away. The weight of the night, the tension, the unspoken feelings—it all starts to fall away as you close the door behind him, the sound of it locking making everything feel a little more real.

And for the first time tonight, you feel like you might actually be able to breathe again.

Inside, the apartment feels cozy, a stark contrast to the cold night air outside. You toss your keys onto the counter, the clink of metal breaking the comfortable silence as Joe surveys the familiar space. He’s been here more times than you can count, so much that it’s almost like he lives here—except he doesn’t. He’s always just passing through, leaving behind traces of himself that linger far longer than he does.

“I’m gonna shower,” he says casually, already heading toward the bathroom like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And maybe it is.

“Sure,” you reply, watching as he grabs a towel from the hall closet without missing a beat. “You know where everything is.”

He shoots you a grin over his shoulder. “Hard not to when half of it used to be mine.”

You roll your eyes, but a laugh slips out before you can stop it. The tension from earlier feels miles away, replaced by an easy warmth that only Joe seems to bring. You head to the couch, plopping down and grabbing the remote while he disappears into the bathroom. The sound of water running fills the quiet, and you let yourself sink into the cushions, your body finally relaxing.

When Joe reappears twenty minutes later, his hair damp and curling slightly at the ends, he’s wearing a pair of sweats and an old LSU hoodie you distinctly remember stealing from him months ago. The sight of him makes your stomach flip, but you push the feeling down, focusing on the TV as he flops onto the couch beside you.

He stretches out, his long legs taking up most of the space, and gestures at his hoodie with a mock-serious expression. “You know, you could at least ask before raiding my closet.”

You glance at him, feigning innocence. “What can I say? Your clothes are comfortable. And they look better on me.”

He snorts, leaning back with a grin that’s all teasing charm. “Debatable.”

“Not even a little bit,” you counter, smirking. The playful banter feels so normal, so easy, that you almost forget the storm that brewed between you earlier.

Almost.

After a while, the two of you migrate to your bed, the comforter a welcoming cocoon as you prop up pillows and settle in with The Office playing softly in the background. Joe’s on one side, you’re on the other, the space between you wide enough to be friendly but not awkward. It feels... safe. Like every other time you’ve done this.

But tonight, something lingers in the air, something unspoken that buzzes just beneath the surface. You try to ignore it, to lose yourself in the familiar rhythm of Jim and Pam’s back-and-forth, but you can feel Joe shifting beside you, his presence impossible to ignore.

It’s almost halfway through an episode when he speaks, his voice cutting through the soft glow of the TV. “You know…” he starts, his tone so casual it catches you off guard. “It’s funny how everyone thinks we’re just friends.”

You turn to look at him, your brows knitting together. “Uh… because we are just friends?”

He shrugs, his eyes still fixed on the screen, his expression maddeningly nonchalant. “Sure, but like… doesn’t it ever feel like more than that sometimes? Like, not in a weird way, but…” He trails off, his lips curving into a small, almost amused smile. “I don’t know. Just thinking out loud.”

Your heart stutters, your breath catching as his words sink in. You’re suddenly hyper-aware of the way his arm brushes against yours, the warmth radiating from his body, the way his voice dips just enough to make you second-guess everything. But Joe doesn’t seem fazed. If anything, he looks like he’s just commented on the weather, like this vague, half-confession isn’t turning your entire world upside down.

“Joe…” You hesitate, unsure of what to say or how to even process what he just implied.

He finally looks at you, his gaze steady but soft, like he’s daring you to call him out. “What? I’m just saying. It’s not that crazy of an idea, is it?”

Your mouth opens, but no words come out. You’re torn between laughing at how absurdly casual he’s being and screaming at him for dropping this bombshell like it’s nothing. Instead, you settle for staring at him, your mind racing as the silence stretches on.

And then, as if to hammer the final nail in your coffin, he adds, “I mean, you do look really good in that dress. I wasn’t lying about that.”

It feels like the air’s been knocked out of you. Your heart pounds so loudly you’re sure he can hear it, and you’re not entirely sure if the warmth spreading through your chest is panic or something else entirely.

Joe doesn’t push. He just leans back against the pillows, his gaze flicking back to the TV like he didn’t just casually crack open the door to feelings you’ve spent way too long pretending don’t exist. But the small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth gives him away. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

And for the first time, you’re not sure if you want to close that door or walk straight through it.

Your brain short-circuits. There’s no other way to describe it. You sit there, staring at him, your mouth opening and closing like you’re a fish out of water, but no words come out. None. Your heart is pounding in your chest, your thoughts racing too fast for you to grab hold of even one.

Joe waits, his expression unreadable. His eyes flick to yours, searching, like he’s waiting for some kind of confirmation—or maybe a rejection. The seconds stretch into what feels like hours, and the weight of the moment settles heavily between you.

You want to say something, anything, but your tongue feels glued to the roof of your mouth, and all you can do is sit there like an idiot while your heart threatens to burst out of your chest.

And then, Joe decides he’s done waiting.

Without warning, he leans in, his hand coming up to cup the side of your face as his lips press softly against yours. It’s gentle, tentative, like he’s giving you every chance to pull away. But you don’t. You can’t. The moment his mouth touches yours, it’s like the world stops spinning.

When he pulls back, his gaze locks on yours, his thumb brushing against your cheek. His expression is softer than you’ve ever seen it, and his voice is quiet when he finally speaks. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

It takes a second for his words to register, but when they do, they snap you out of your daze. “I’m impossible?” you manage to croak, your voice barely above a whisper. “You just—”

“Yeah,” he interrupts, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I did.”

You blink at him, still trying to process what just happened. But then the realization hits you like a freight train, and the words tumble out before you can stop them. “I feel the same way.”

Joe’s smirk widens into a full-blown grin, and he leans back, his hand dropping to rest casually on your knee. “Took you long enough to say it,” he teases, his tone light but undeniably smug. “Thought I was gonna have to spell it out for you.”

Your cheeks burn, and you swat at his arm, unable to stop the small laugh that escapes you. “Oh, shut up.”

He chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and tucking you into his side like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His hoodie smells like fresh laundry and something distinctly Joe, and you let yourself sink into the warmth of him, your head resting against his chest.

For a while, neither of you say anything. The TV continues playing in the background, the familiar sounds of The Office filling the room, but neither of you are paying attention anymore. Joe’s fingers trace absent patterns on your arm, and every now and then, you catch him glancing down at you with a soft smile that makes your heart flutter all over again.

It’s quiet, easy, comfortable, like this is exactly where you’re supposed to be. And maybe, just maybe, it is.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[notjoelmiller]

he's yours

MDNI

Ghost has little to give. He comes from little and has made little of himself. He’s a soldier before he is a man. More machine than heart.

What he does have to give is his loyalty. It’s the only thing he’s been able to give and take in a very long time.

“You saved my ass,” you say incredulously after Simon takes out a soldier, taller than him, who had nearly strangled you.

You extend your hand, Simon takes it.

“I’ll always be there for you,” he says as you shake on it, your blood mixing with his through your open wounds, gained in the gruesome fight which is still raging around you.

“Thanks,” you say.

Simon points it out, the bloody exchange between you two that takes nothing– words that could easily be an empty promise –and turns it into something greater.

“A blood pact,” you muse.

Maybe it was a mistake not to nip it in the bud then and there, not realizing the gravity of what you’ve done. He thought you knew– knew that the gashes on your hands, your bloods mixing as you grasped each other, shaking hands just once –meant something. 

That’s alright. You’ll learn eventually that “always” means always.

His loyalty doesn’t go unnoticed. Soap and Gaz tease Simon. They say he's whipped as he follows you around day in and day out. Price starts calling him your dog, as though that’s the only way to explain Simon’s dedication. The rest of the team– they just don’t understand. You never tire of it, though, and Simon soon learns that the way you go quiet when they tease him isn’t out of embarrassment but rather… something else.

This something is hunger.

He fucks you with a hand in your hair, his mouth on your skin. In his bed. Your bed. The showers. Anywhere you let him have you.

“I’m yours,” he grunts in your ears. “I’m yours forever, love.”

You retire after three years of serving side-by-side with Simon. He follows you into domesticity, building a home with you– for you. It’s bliss. It’s safe. But after some time off of the field, it’s too quiet. Too suffocating. You try leaving him. You tell him plainly, “I’m breaking up with you.”

Simon doesn’t take it well. Well, actually, he doesn’t take it at all. He tells you no.

For two hours straight, you tell him that it’s over. You pack his things, but he keeps saying no. That it isn’t over. That he won’t leave you. That he’ll never leave you. He’s yours and always has been and always will be.

Remember the pact?

You’re so shocked that you give up on it. That afternoon becomes a story. Remember when you tried to break up with me? Absolutely bollocks that was…

No, Simon Riley won’t leave you, not until he’s lying cold and still, under six feet of dirt. Though, it’s not like he hasn’t gotten himself out of that same situation before.

***

a/n: a little drabble. i wrote this quicker than everything else on this blog and did not give it the editing it deserves, but pls enjoy.

[charlesslut16]

Could you do reader is Charles bestfriend but is dating Arthur and they fight over her attention fluffy fluff dramatic Leclerc boys ? Petty Arthur pls

-she's my girlfriend!-

summary : you were charles's best friend first but now that you were arthur's girlfriend the both of them were fighting constantly.

PAIRINGS : arthur leclerc x reader (ft. charles leclerc)

WARNINGS : none

note : i really don't like this but i hope you guys do. Love you ❤️

masterlist   

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

You and charles have been best friends since karting days. You had met in one of the races and since then you have been absolutely inseparable. Like peanut butter and jelly.

Times and times you were at each other's houses hanging out. You hung out with him and his brother and at the same time, Charles hung out with you and your siblings.

And you had gotten very close with Artur and Lorenzo. Well mostly Arthur. Throughout the years, you had grown a crush on Arthur. You tried to ignore the feelings for him, as charles was your best friend, but you couldn't.

The rule between best friends had always been that brothers and sisters were off limits. So you knew that dating Arthur would be a no-go. But the feelings for Arthur were too strong. 

So, after enough encouragement, you had told Arthur your feelings for him. And as it had turned out, he had felt the same with you. So you became a couple, even if you felt a little guilty about Charles.

Weeks later, you had told charles the news. The both of you thought that charles would be absolutely furious, but he wasn't. He was very happy for the both of you. At first. 

Firstly, It had been going awesome, but after some time, Charles became a bit jealous that you hung out more with Arthur than with him. So he had told you his trouble.

So you hung out with charles more, which made him very happy, but then Arthur became petty. You were his girlfriend, so you should do more things with him.

And since this time they had both been fighting over your attention 24/7. If you came to charles races he had been with you all the time, but when you were at Arthur's races, he was with you all the time.

Charles argued with the argument that 'you had been his best friend first' but Arthur didn't care. You were now his girlfriend and he deserved to spend time with you.

More than charles. Arthur argued with the argument, 'you were his girlfriend now' but Charles didn't care about that. You were his best friend, and he deserved to spend time with you.

The brothers were one heart, they were always there for each other, but when it came to your attention, the both of you were literally enemies in everything. Always competing against the other.

For example, there was one time, where you and Arthur were cuddling on the couch and watching a movie, when charles came and sat between the two of you and hugged you to him. Arthur sitting next to charles huffing and puffing.

Another time, was when you and charles were talking outside about Formula One and Arthur came to you guys and kindly took you with him to take a walk outside in the field. 

The entire interaction was very funny to you. Both of the boys fighting for your attention. You timed your time with them fifty-fifty, but the boys wanted to hang out with you 24/7.

Arthur found that the interaction had been going on for too long, so he had asked charles to talk to him about something important. Charles and him were now sitting outside in front of each other.

"What's wrong?" Charles had asked him gently, even tho he knew what he wanted to tell him. 

"It's about y/n. We cannot fight because we want her attention."

"I know…"

"She's my girlfriend! So she will spend more time with me."

"But she was my girlfriend first!"

And so the fighting over you had started again. Both of them always stealing you away from the other one. You knew that charles did it partly to annoy Arthur and partly to spend time with you.

But Artur was really dramatic about sharing you with charles. When you did something together and charles came, he was always whining, huffing or puffing.

Childish. That was what was going on between the two of them. How could two grown men fight over a girl's attention. It was just so petty to fight over something like that.

You would always be their girl, even if they didn't have as much time with you as the wished for.  You would always be there for them, even if you didn't have that much time with them.

That they would fight over your attention, wasn't something you had thought would have happened. Ever. But you were glad that it was just that and not that charles would be angry with you and Arthur dating.

Even if they were fighting and being total idiots. You still loved them with all your heart. You couldn't wish for a better boyfriend and a better best friend in the world.

[devourable]

✎ the prodigy

sfw | tags : male!yandere student x gn! reader (only prn used for reader is ‘you’), obsessive behavior and thoughts, bullying, slight classism, gaslighting? i think

surprise! i came up w the idea of this guy like,,, two days ago and had to get him out my system 😭 i feel like all my yandere ocs are too nice (save for althea) so heres one thats an asshole. enjoy! reblog to support me :]

sterling cygnus has it all.

good looks, a wealthy family, and a place in one of the most prestigious private colleges that one could go to. aptly dubbed the ‘prince of ice’ by his classmates thanks to his cold demeanor and disdain for interpersonal connections, the young man had one goal in his mind since he started attending school.

to be the best!

sterling dedicated himself to his studies. nothing was more important to him than ensuring he got the top scores on every exam he took, sealing his place as number one in the academic field by any means necessary. no one dared to breach that. and anyone who even tried received his ire.

no one was going to stand up to him — why would they? they’d hate to end up like the poor guy who’s dorm was raided after he surpassed him. or the girl who did the same, resulting in her being forced to drop out after her father’s suspiciously sudden arrest left her unable to pay tuition fees. but of course, there was no real proof that sterling had caused both incidents. it was just a coincidence! right?

well… the day you came onto his radar was a day that left the entire student body tense.

everyone had gathered around the bulletin board where the latest exam results were posted. there were gasps of shock, murmurs, and even a small ripple of laughs floating through the otherwise quiet crowd. it was unusual. and when sterling had pushed his way to the front to gaze upon the list of student names with their scores beside them… he understood. and in an instant, he was furious.

he was in second place. and above his name, with a pretty 100% score next to it, was yours.

who the fuck did you think you were? coming to his school, earning the grade that he worked so hard to receive, and daring to take his place as number one?

sterling knew in an instant that you had to be a new student. he had all of the names of those who ranked just under him memorized, and yours wasn’t one of them. were you a transfer? a latecomer? he had no clue what the circumstances behind your sudden arrival was, and honestly? he didn’t care. you had taken his place, after he had worked so hard to get there. after he had been there for so long. you had taken his place. and he knew for a fact you didn’t deserve it.

but just as he resolved to figure you out so he could plan his revenge?

there you were. passing through the the slowly dispersing crowd to look at the leaderboard, your eyes locking with the name — your name — at the very top of it.

when sterling first saw you, he couldn’t even begin to understand the feeling that had suddenly flooded his senses. it was so strange… and why did the world suddenly feel a lot slower? why could he only notice you and him in the hallway? why did his heart skip in his chest when you glanced at him and your eyes locked?

if you had tried to say something to him, sterling didn’t even notice. he had hurried off before you could even speak.

he was sure he despised you after that point. he had to have, he told himself. the way his mind always drifted back to you when he was trying to study, angrily clicking his pen and gritting his teeth as he thought about your stupid hair and your dumb, adorable eyes, the way your uniform looked better on you than anyone else in the college — he didn’t even realize he was thinking about you so much until he snapped out of them and noticed how much time had passed.

he hated you. he had to. you had taken what was rightfully his, probably with dumb luck or cheating, and now you were invading his thoughts in such a way? was there nothing you wouldn’t take from him?

he was colder to you than anyone else. he had to be — you needed to learn your place around him. he’d ignore you in the halls and during class, and when you’d innocently ask him for his input on something, you’d be met with a sneer and a condescending retort.

“i don’t fraternize with people like you. don’t bother me.”

despite this, he’d always wander around near wherever you went. going to the library at the same time as you so he could snatch whatever book you had planned to check out away from you and take it for himself, making sure to go to the cafeteria just before you arrived so he could take what he knew was your favorite snacks, and he’d always be at the dorms before you — trying so hard to not stare at you when you passed by in your pajamas, fresh out of the showers.

your stupid body wash smelled so good… he couldn’t help himself when he snuck back to the locker room after hours to snag it for himself.

weeks after your arrival and sudden climb to the top, everyone was confused to see you were still attending the school. sterling would’ve taken out anyone else by then, what was so different about you?

but no one would ask, obviously. nor would anyone come to your aid when all of your pencils and pens were all mysteriously snapped in half one day. or when you’d find your notes torn into pieces and haphazardly stuffed back into your bag. and when you tried to alert staff about your dorm room’s door being ajar for some reason, they brushed you off even though you knew for a fact someone had gone through your things (‘nothing important’s gone? no bother pursuing the matter, then’).

with how much disdain and contempt he seemed to hold for you, it was so strange that sterling didn’t like the idea of no longer catching daily glimpses of you. or having access to your things.

so even though sterling went out of his way to make your school life nearly unbearable as revenge for coming along and doing just that to him first, he didn’t make the move to actually have you removed from the school and opted to torment you instead.

you deserved it, he told himself. far more than anyone who came before you.

he’d show you what happens when you bother sterling cygnus.

[verstawppen]

hold me close (cl16)

BLURB (1.2k words)

verstawppen writes: something short and sweet for yall. enjoy!

summary: you comfort Charles after a bad Quali warnings: none. fem!reader, F1 journalist!reader, fluff, comfort, established relationship, secret relationship.

The day was going by at an excruciatingly slow pace, every time you checked your lock screen it seemed only a minute had passed. You sighed in exasperation as the press conference stretched on well past the scheduled timings. You could see the exhaustion on Yuk and Daniel’s faces even from your position at the back and you knew they were dying to get back to their hotel rooms for a day of rest. But here they were, stuck in the media pen answering pointed questions about their Qualifying. And you were stuck too. You’d already done your duties and compiled all the responses from your interviews with the drivers for your tabloid. You were itching to get back to your hotel room. To get back to Charles. He’d had a bad Qualifying, just as he began his fastest lap of Quali, his gearbox began malfunctioning and Ferrari had to retire the car. He was visibly frustrated when he came back to the Ferrari garage. He just wanted to have a good race for once this season without facing any issues with his car and you felt that he deserved that, being one of the best drivers on the grid. Ever since you’d seen him leaving the garage, running his hands through his damp hair, something he only did when he was being consumed with anxiety, you’d wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and soothe his uneased mind. You were his girlfriend, you should have been there for him. But it wasn’t that easy, you knew the implications it would have on both your careers, more on his than yours, to be seen together. An F1 journalist and Ferrari’s golden boy. The media would have a field day, you would know. A brief buzz from the pocket of your trousers brought you out of your thoughts-

Charles <3 When are you coming back?? I miss you :( You I’m so sorry Cha the conference is running past the schedule. I’m stuck here Charles <3 Want me to come rescue you, cherie? You No it’s alright, love. Try to rest until I come back, you’ve had a long day. When Charles didn’t respond after 15 minutes, you presumed he’d taken your advice and had gone to sleep. You felt guilt churn in your stomach. Charles was always there to take care of you after a long day despite his own exhausting profession. He was an absolute sweetheart, showering you with kisses as soon as you came back to him in his motorhome or his hotel room, sitting you down on his bed before taking off your heels for you, nimble fingers massaging your sore, tender feet.

‘Fuck this’ you thought to yourself. “Hey I think I’m gonna leave early”, you informed your colleague sitting beside you. You were friends and you’d told her about you and Charles. She nodded in understanding, “Go, I’ll cover for you.” You got up from your seat, shooting her a grateful smile as you gathered your things and left the media pen. You called yourself a cab to the hotel where Charles and you were staying. The ride felt longer than when you’d arrived at the paddock in the morning, excited to see Charles race. You rubbed your temple, your concern for Charles growing by the minute.

You practically fell out of the cab when you opened the door in a hurry even before the car had fully stopped. You quickly paid the driver and ran up the steps of the hotel entrance. The cool air of the hotel lobby cooled your skin which had gathered a thin layer of sweat from your rushed movements and increasing stress. You impatiently waited for the elevator and immediately pressed your floor number once you were inside.

The elevator opened with a ding and soon you were standing in front of Charles’s hotel room fishing around with one hand for the keycard he’d given you while your other hand held your suit jacket and your bag. You scanned the card and opened the door. You tried to be as quiet as possible and closed the door behind you with a soft click. You removed your heels, set them down on the shoe rack and deposited your stuff onto a countertop near the room’s entrance. But maybe your movements weren’t as discreet as you thought because as soon as the bed came into view, you saw Charles had woken up, sleepily rubbing his eyes. He let out a silent yawn but as soon as his eyes fell on you, his face lit up. He sat upright, a wide grin on his face which you mirrored. You quickly made your way over to his side of the bed and sat down in front of him, feeling his hands wrap themselves around your frame. He was wearing a black hoodie, his favourite one which you liked to steal sometimes. You buried your in his neck, he smelled of aftershave and his characteristic slightly musky cologne. You held him close, your fingers clutching onto his hoodie.  His chin rested atop your head, his left hand tracing abstract circles on your back. It was everything you both needed. You pulled away and looked up into his sparkling green orbs. “Hi, love” “Hi, cherie” Even though he’d been calling you ‘cherie’ for more than 2 years now, the nickname never failed to awaken the butterflies in your stomach. Your hands reached to cup his face, thumb lightly stroking his cheekbone. “How are you?”, you asked. From this proximity, you could see the dark circles forming under his mesmerising eyes, a detail that the cameras thankfully never seemed to capture. And it was good, you knew Charles would hate for the world to think that he wasn’t able to take the heat. But at the end of the day, he was only human. He smiled before replying to you, his voice slightly raspy from having just woken up,” I’m good now that you’re here, mon amour.” Your hands moved from his face into his curled locks and he relished the feeling of your fingers lightly massaging his scalp, making waves of comfort and relief wash all over his tired body as his head found its resting place on your collarbone, lightly taking in the scent of your sweet floral perfume. He unconsciously smiled against your neck. Carding your fingers through his hair just the way you knew he liked, you spoke to him in a low, comforting sort of voice, “You did so well today, Charles. You almost had the fastest lap of the Quali despite having to work with such a difficult car. You got the best you could out of that car and that’s enough for now. Things will get better, Ferrari is working on the issue, right? You’ll soon have a car worthy of your talent and you’ll be back on the podium in no time, love.” He hummed in acknowledgement of your encouraging words. It meant a lot to him, more than you’d ever know. He pressed a small kiss to your collarbone in appreciation. “Thank you, ma cherie” You smiled, your eyes closing to relish the warmth of his presence in your embrace. “Anytime, Cha”

[genshin-impact-unofficial]

🌦Confessions gone wrong...

Genshin men and how they fuck up their confessions to you.

Ft. Bennett, Venti, Xingqiu, Xiao, Itto, and Wanderer

Tags: Fem!Reader, Long-Hair!Reader(Xingqiu), crushes, pining, fluff, pg, bad things happen to good people. Note: This thread is mostly humor. I just really wanted to bully some characters. No beta. Pay no mind to me trying to edit my mistakes after this has been posted. (Repost!)

Bennett 

Fatal Flaw: Honestly does nothing wrong, is just an unlucky dude.

There’s too many instances to count. The poor boy has really been trying to tell you his feelings for MONTHS.

In his excitement he wanted to be flashy and ask you out somewhere cool, like by the big tree in Windrise. The weather thankfully allowed it, but right as he was about to take your hand and confess, a swarm of crystal flies began swarming him. You didn’t know they could be so aggressive.

A restaurant! He could treat you to a meal and tell you there! When the two of you arrived at Good Hunter, it was unfortunately closed early for the day. Apparently all of the meat had suddenly gone bad…

You get the gist.... he’s been in this constant confession limbo for a while now. The more he wants it the worse it goes.

Bennett finally decided he didn’t need the bells and whistles. He cared about you a lot and he was going to confess to you if it was the last thing he did. And it damn well might be. With a new found determination, he ran out to do just that.

“Y/N!” Bennett called out when he spotted you by the Adventure’s Guild. He rushed to you, paying special attention to every stair step to keep from tripping. You turned around and smiled too sweetly when you caught sight of him. It made the boy’s heart thump in his chest. Were it not for his sudden tunnel vision, he may have noticed that cat running past him and not trip down the remaining flight of stairs. 

The next time he opened his eyes, he found himself being carried up the familiar route to the cathedral. The adventurer’s face flushed bright red when he realized you were the one carrying him piggyback. It was embarrassing..... but it shamefully wasn’t the first time. Bennett sighed in defeat and simply leaned into your back. When felt his shift in weight, you glanced back to smile at him. You giggled at his clumsiness and it was like music to the boy’s ears. You told him how glad you were that he already regained consciousness this time.  

The two of you began joke around like usual and talked the rest of the way there. Bennett took the small victories.

Venti

Fatal Flaw: Tries to impress you too hard.

He knew exactly where he was going to sing his love ballad about you. The sound of the wind as it blew off the hills of starsnatch cliff would be the perfect accompaniment. Maybe it would need some encouragement, but it was nothing he couldn’t accomplish.

Venti wanted the wine to be just right for the occasion too. You deserved nothing but the best. And how else would he be able to judge the quality.... if not just a teeny tiny taste test? He had to be thorough about this choice after all.

The bard usually had enough self control to limit himself to a glass or two, but he felt his nerves get to him a tad. Venti had the confidence that he could show you a beautiful night, but in the end it was your choice whether to accept his heartfelt gesture. The archon respected your freedom above all else. 

They sure don’t call it liquid courage for nothing! Venti was brimming with confidence when he brought you to a picnic under a tree, overlooking the cecilias in full bloom. You were visibly in awe, and your reactions quickly inflated the bard’s ego to dangerous heights. “If you think that’s beautiful, watch this.”

A gust of wind flowed over the field, sweeping up all the fallen petals to dance in the air. It was unreal, magical, magnificent, splendid, it was…… buzzing? A thud fell between the two of you and effectively ended the romantic moment. It was a wasps nest.

“ABANDON SHIP!” Venti cried out, grabbing your hand and booking it downhill. 

Xingqiu

Fatal Flaw: Hubris.

He really doesn’t like to toot his own horn. Maybe once in a while when it’s warranted. But he really out did himself. Xingqiu read plenty of books regarding the art of courting, and they guided the way to what was sure to be the most romantic confession possible. 

The brilliance was in the simplicity of the plan. First he would begin with a gift. The two of you always met at the book store on your off-days. When he sees you wear your long hair in your usual up-do, he would offer the beautiful hair ornament he acquired. Maybe in your excitement, you would even allow him to affix it for you.

The boy’s stomach dropped when he saw you enter the bookstore. He stared while you looked around for him, turning your head left and right in an adorable manner. The movement accentuated your newest feature... a hair cut. “Y/N, over here.” Xingqiu called to you, his confidence was already wavering a little. You excitedly walked to meet up with him and offered a big grin.

Well all is not lost! This leads into his next step; Flattery! “Dear Y/N, you cut your hair. It looks-” “Ugh, don’t remind me.” You quickly cut him off, mood souring just a tad. You explain the tragic story of how you stupidly got a chunk of your hair caught in a lever. The only solution was to cut it clean off, the dramatic change was definitely still a sore topic. 

Now the boy was breaking a sweat. He changed to a new tactic, to cheer you up. Xingqiu dropped the subject and prompted that you both look at the newest releases. It would help to take your mind off things and he was banking on the last step of his plan to pan out. It was his last hope. 

The two of you settled on the docks and were eager to discuss the books you had just picked. Xingqiu had hidden a love poem into the latest book from your favorite author. He knew you couldn’t resist picking it up, so he stealthily slipped the note into the book you held. Xingqiu spend all night pouring his heart out just right onto the page, as if trying to convey every reason he should be by your side. He expressed his desperate want to be the one to protect and cherish you. Watching you now, talking about your day, left his brain dazed in admiration. It made him realize that all those little things before didn’t matter, as long as you knew how much he adored you in the end.

Finally, you pulled out your newest book to show Xingqiu. The distressed boy nearly fell off the dock. “T-the cover-” He stammered, quickly righting himself. You looked back at him concerned, and slowly explained that it was a limited edition cover. It was only available for the first hundred copies sold. When you saw there was still some in stock, you just had to snag one. 

Why do novels make romance it sound so easy....

Xiao

Fatal Flaw: One track mind.

Xiao had been hyping himself up for this one moment for weeks! He nearly talks himself out of confessing every other minute. You may not even reciprocate, but for his sanity he couldn’t keep hiding how deeply he cares for you. The whole situation was so uncertain but the hammering in his chest was proof that he had to do this.

Its like a band-aid he just had to rip it off. To get it over with. Xiao had no idea how to approach it and resorted to redeeming a favor owed to him. He needed to know what he was getting into and have a battle plan. When he approached Ganyu for advice he concealed most of the details. If she was any the wiser who he was asking romantic advice for, she was kind enough to not to mention it and let him keep his pride.

Xiao glanced down at the single glaze lily in his hand. The irony was not lost on him. It was almost humorous, an adeptus making an offering to a mortal and asking for their blessing.

It was almost the time and he prepared as if going into war. You greeted him and sat casually on the balcony railing of Wangshu Inn. Xiao wasted no time with pleasantries and held out the glaze lily to you. “Please accept this.” He stated. The flower was rigidly extended to the full length of his arm. The fiery determination on his face was  quite off-putting while offering such a delicate plant.

“Ah... I appreciate it Xiao, I really do, but I can’t.” You began to say, confusion steeping into your tone.

“I insist and I ask that you hear me out.” Xiao’s arm did moving an inch. It was the first thing Ganyu told him to do. He couldn’t abandon his path already. 

“What is going on Xiao? I really can’t accept-” You try to explain.

“Please.” His eyes were downcast and the yaksha’s tone was the closest thing to a plea that you’ve ever heard it. You were a tad bewildered and felt as though there was no use trying to talk him down right now. Left with no other choice, you reluctantly took the glaze lily in your hand. 

“Y/N I must tell you that I-” Thats as far as Xiao got before the coughing fit began. Your wracking coughs brought you to your knees. A wheeze is the only thing you could manage as you point to your bag. Xiao was alert and scrambling to make sense of what was happening. Your bag is brought to you in an instant and an arm wrapped around your waist to gently guide you to a chair. 

It took twenty minutes to fully get your breathing under control. You declined is offer to go grab you help. You just knew Xiao would disappear as soon as it arrived. It was a small allergy attack and nothing too threatening, but you could tell the boy next to you was profusely beating himself up for it.

You never did find out why he was so insistent on you taking that flower. What a strange guy. 

Itto

Fatal Flaw: All of the above.

The whole situation was more or less doomed from the start. Once his oblivious ass realized he was in love with you, it was over. The oni was going to confess to you so hard that people were going to be talking about it for YEARS!

It was an all hands on deck operation. Itto gathered the whole gang and then some. He was able to recruit the neighborhood kids to gather as  many sakura pedals as they could carry. The boys were on staging duty, making sure the location was so romantic it could even make onikabuto stop fighting long enough fall in love. Itto even managed win a few fireworks off Yoimiya. (She brutally crushed him in a game of Genius Invokation TCG, and mercifully tossed a couple firecrackers his way as a consolation prize.) SCORE!

It was all coming together! All that was left was to distract you for just a little bit longer. That was a job so important that he could only entrust it to his competent second in command. Shinobu tried to convince Itto again and again that he didn’t need all this extra stuff. Pulling off something this complicated was only setting his expectations to an impossible height. Overall wouldn't it be better to be up front and earnest with you about how he felt? Her genuine, good advice promptly fell on deaf ears. Itto was far too busy trying to find which color would make his horns look even cooler in the light of all the fireflies they captured to release right when he said he loved you. Shinobu left this trainweck to to its thing and went to go find you. 

She usually would’ve press the subject more, but she did genuinely enjoy your company. The Arataki Gang Deputy considered you a good influence on the boss and anything that could keep him out of trouble, the better. 

At last, the time arrived to set all the gears into motion. Now Itto just had to wait for.... The realization hit him. He hadn't told you or Shinobu a time or place too meet today. 

The bumbling oni spent a great deal of the afternoon searching for you like a lost puppy. “Yo! Y/N! Hey Hi! I gotta talk to you!” Itto yelled out across the road.  He had finally managed to catch up to you two. The guy was ecstatic that things were looking up, plan was back on track! If he hurried now he could get you to the location the gang set up before sunset. 

Itto excitedly told you that you HAD to see something. You were always amused by his antics, so of course you agreed. Without hesitation the oni all but dragged you out the door and towards the beach.

When you arrived.... oh crap.

Apparently, you need to get a “warrant” or something to set up the most romantic love confession of all time. Are they trying to say they own the beach or something? That's crazy now! The gang members were trying to explain themselves to the Tenryou Commission guards when you both walked in on the scene. Itto may have made things only a little tiny bit worse when he called the annoyed guard a “block head without a romantic bone in his body”, but no one was keeping score were they? Nonetheless, the whole altercation placed everyone on the scene in a Tenryo Commission cell... including you. 

Shinobu was gonna be so pissed.

Wanderer

Fatal Flaw: Forgets he’s supposed to be confessing.

The whole situation was incredibly annoying anyway. You were the one who wouldn’t take the hint, why should he have to spell it out for you. It’s not like he even wanted these feelings. It was all happening without his permission. On top of that, you were dense enough to miss the point every single time he tried to explain it to you.  

“Is something on my face?” You asked your newly reformed friend while putting down your book. He'd been boring holes into your skull for several minutes now. 

“No? Why are you asking dumb questions?” He snapped. You noticed Wanderer had been doing that quite frequently recently. You sighed in defeat and began gathering your things.

“If you don’t have anything nice to say, I’m heading out.” You told him casually. 

You were usually pretty patient with Wanderer, but he’d been in some sort of sour mood lately. Typically it took a few more irksome things before he would start his attitude, but you just couldn’t figure out whats been setting him off recently. You decided it was best to just let him calm down and try again later.

“Don’t.” Wanderer said snatched your hand roughly before you could get too far. “I didn’t mean it like that. I wasn’t calling you dumb.” He spoke without looking directly at you. You made no movement towards returning and his grip on your hand did not let up. 

“And?” You prompted gently.

“Sorry. I’m sorry I said it.” He spat out, clearly annoyed.

You settled back down and asked him what's been bothering him. It’s clear that he was on edge and when you pointed it out his posture became rigid. He was a former Harbinger for fuck sake. Why was this so terrifying. He had been through hell and back without flinching, yet here you were just a person with a goofy laugh and weird interests. It shouldn’t be that hard.

“It’s your fault.” The boy accused, shooting you an annoyed glare. “These emotions aren’t exactly something that come with a manual.”

You blinked back at him in confusion and damn it now you looked cute.

“Stop looking at me! It’s weird.” Wanderer sneered, and immediately scolded himself for harsh it came out. You narrowed your eyes and pointed out that he was just staring at you just a few moments ago. Doesn't that make him weird too? “What? No! That was different. Fuck, you’re already missing the point. That’s why this is impossible with you!” 

You were loosing your patience and told him he was being just as impossible. “Me? At least I'm trying to talk here. You make things so much harder. If you just didn’t look at me like I asked, this wouldn’t have been an issue.” The boy jabbed back at you. 

The bickering went on for a while and concluded with both of you storming off in opposite directions. It wasn’t until Wanderer entered the second room over that he remembered what he was trying to say...... “Ugh, smooth.” He scowls.

<A/N: Hello again! I forgot this one was so long! Thanks for the love I've been receiving on my other works! I read them all and they got me kicking my feet and twirling my hair frfr!>

[allfearstofallto]

(Writing more about my OC cause I have a problem, mostly his backstory though!!)

Yandere! Male OC x Reader

Yuri used to be a knight. Although, that was a long time ago. Very few people know about it and even less are willing to ask him for details, if they do he shushes them with a gentle smile and calmly changes the conversation. He'd rather not go into the details. But the subtle change in his eyes says that it's a rather sensitive subject.

He was immediately born into hardships. Terrible eyesight and poverty, it wasn't long before he lost his parents, becoming an orphan wandering the streets. There were few places he could go without schooling and schooling he couldn't afford without a job, it was a viscous cycle. Becoming a knight was his last choice and the only thing that turned out right for him.

The white haired man was known for his brutality, for his lack of care and empathy on the battle field, for his efficiency and ability to get things done quickly. So much so that he was recognized by the king himself. His highness welcomed Yuri up for an audience and offered the man whatever he desired, he deserved it for all the work he'd done for the country.

Yuri answered without a beat, "I wish to be discharged."

Muttering filled the room, immediately silenced by the raising of the king's hand. If that's what he wanted, them so be it. Yuri was honorably discharged and allowed to leave the knights without being considered a defector. His pension was small, but it was something, it was a start, and it'd keep him from going back to the streets.

He thought he'd be once again in a scenario where he was desperate for work, but so much wasn't the case. Almost immediately after his audience, he was greeted by your father. An older gentleman, his hair greying from age and stress, he immediately asked for Yuri to work for him, and for a pretty penny at that.

Initially, Yuri thought he was being hired for mercenary work, a line that he truthfully didn't want to get into. But instead he stepped into a carriage and was taken to a place he'd never been before, a place he didn't think he'd have the opportunity to go to: school. A training school for butlers in specific.

He expected to live his life in servitude of the sword, only to instead be living it in service of another. At times, his training to be an acceptable butler was harder than basic training for the military, but he was being paid to be here and his schooling was paid for as well, he couldn't abandon the job.

Six months passed and he was finally able to meet you, his lady. You were not to know of his past, the idea of how much blood he'd previously had on his hands would frighten you, your father was sure of it, but Yuri was still to keep his sword close. He chuckled at the thought, realizing just what he was being used for, not just a butler, but a bodyguard as well. A personal knight without all the formalities, with all the work your father put into him, his loyalties were surely only going to lie with you.

You greeted him the day after your birthday, the only daughter of the Duke, it was obviously they spent a fortune on your etiquette classes, not a single thing was off about the way you introduced yourself to him. As much as he wished in hindsight that it was love at first sight, that he fell for you upon seeing you on that very first fateful day, that wasn't the case.

It took months before Yuri viewed you as more than his employer, something that seemed to upset you. He could tell you wanted to be closer to him, and the way you smiled, laughed, and even playful begged broke down his walls. He found himself doing more than working for you, serving your tea, arranging your clothes, and planning your schedule, he found himself doting on you.

So when you watched as he placed a few light snacks in front of you, your eyes lingering on his fingers and specifically the large amount of callouses he had on them, he knew you were going to ask.

And ask you did, oh so sweetly, "Why are your hands so rough, Yuri?"

He merely chuckled as he continued to serve you. He'd never tell you that his hands had killed, that he knew the grip of a sword better than he knew how to hold a teapot. He'd never tell you who he was before, it was the life he left behind after all. The him you knew now was all you needed to know, and he loved you far too much for you to look at him differently.

"I supposed I don't take good care of them, my lady," he answered smoothly, quickly changing the subject before you had the chance to ask anything more, "I heard the tailor will be coming soon. Why don't you tell me what you're planning to have made?"

[chaosology]

benched

— Sam Kerr x reader

based off this request, i hope you like it :) masterlist, gimme feedback!!!

warnings: pregnancy? slight injury to reader

“She’s getting so big now,” Sam sighed, “What is it now, an avocado?”

Her fingers traced the swell of your stomach, lightly tapping the beat of whatever song was stuck in her head. You and Sam had gotten incredibly lucky, your first round of IVF being successful and resulting in one of the most beautiful celebrations of your life.

“Sami, they said it’s probably a girl, we can be sure!! What if he’s just sneaky?”

Sam just laughed, rolling over to pull herself out of bed. This game would determine if you made it into the quarter finals of the World Cup, and your entire team had been training rigorously for it. The pregnancy had remained under wraps until just after the first trimester, when Alanna had caught you puking in a bush for the third time that week.

The pregnancy had been a hot topic of discussion among you and the team officials. They weren’t allowed to decide when you would stop playing and take leave, but you and Sam had talked privately to decide that you’d rest when the World Cup ended. The rough nature of the game put you at a level of risk you and Sam weren’t willing to take; and if you were being honest, the break was well deserved. You’d given your all for so long and wanted nothing more than to lay in bed all day, watching Sam play and browsing whatever shit reality shows were currently trending.

The little bump just barely peaked through your jersey, a small reminder of your love always with you. Admittedly, the influx of hormones had knocked your emotions around a bit - much to Sam’s enjoyment. You cried at commercials and got snappy with her over small things like the smell of her coffee, and it was probably the most adorable thing she’d ever witnessed.

The stadium was alive with the thrill of the match. The girls battled fiercely, determination evident in every pass, every tackle, and every movement on the field. Your movements were quick and calculated, darting in between the opposition to pass the ball over to Hayley.

In an instant you were on the floor, too shocked to even comprehend what had happened. The medics were on you in an instant, Sam having let them know before the tournament that you were pregnant and took priority. The pain wasn’t unbearable, radiating down your back to your legs. The other girl that tumbled was checking on you, apologising over and over. It was a genuine mistake, and you didn’t hold any ill will towards her. Half time had just been called, and so the rest of the team had come make sure you were doing alright.

Sam was also by your side, triple checking you were ok. She was stressing beyond belief, not just for you but your baby.

“You need to come off, love.”

“Huh? No, I’m fine. I’m- We’re fine.”

“No, you’re done,” Sam’s voice was firm, laced with concern. “I know we talked about it, but we cant keep taking these risks. The way you went down… It could’ve been bad.”

You were starting to get annoyed now. Hormones were making you more fired up than normal, and you got defensive quick.

“No. No, you can’t tell me what to do. I’m not made of glass-”

"No arguments," Sam's interruption was unwavering, her eyes locking onto yours with determined resolve. She knew you were annoyed, but she wasn’t willing to risk it anymore. She could also pull the Captain card if she wanted.

Your eyes were glazed over with a quick building fury. You were both too strong willed for your own good and it was quickly becoming tense.

“I’m your captain, Y/N. You’re done. I won't let anything happen to you or our baby."

You had only pushed her hand away and walked off, angry tears falling down your cheek as you sat down with a huff. Sam’s palm ran down her face as she sighed. She knew in her heart it was the right decision, but she couldn’t help the sinking feeling in her chest when she saw you cry.

You had spent the rest of the game in a mood, your head resting in your hands as you glared at Sam. You knew it was irrational, you knew she cared - but right now, it was just an overwhelming flood of emotions. The win and cheers that erupted as the penalty kick went through fell on deaf ears as you shrunk in on yourself, now nauseated too. Perhaps the baby was angry too. Fair enough.

Sam’s eyes met yours as she jogged over, leaving the celebration in the centre of the pitch. Still moody, you looked down at the ground and kicked your feet, twirling your wedding ring as you did so.

“I know you’re mad. I’m sorry.” her hushed voice let out. You offered only a scoff in response, becoming more and more engrossed in the ring by the second.

“Hey, look at me”, she reached out, her hand grabbing your chin. “Look at me, Y/N.”

You let her move you like a doll, your chin tilted up as she hovered over you. If you weren’t still trying to be mad, you’d definitely tell her it was hot - time and place, unfortunately.

“I’m sorry I was strict. I’m your captain and your wife, I’m just looking out for you and our girl… I got scared, I’m sorry if it wasn’t what you wanted. But you’re my responsibility on this field, and I’ll make any move possible to stop you from getting hurt.”

You were embarrassed now. All she did was care while you were stubborn and proud.

“I’m sorry,” you sniffled “I was so awful, I didn’t mean it. I know you’re doing what’s best”

“Hey, hey,” her fingers lightly tracing your jawline as your face “don’t say that about yourself. You’re making a person, Y/N. Our baby. Your body’s doing all these crazy things, it’s ok to let it get to you sometimes.”

Your eyes welled up again as she brought you in for a kiss. The stress left your body as you relaxed into her.

She stepped back, pulling you up to meet here eye. “Come celebrate with us, you got us here too.”

You giggled, letting her pull you back to the pitch with a skip in your step. The girls were hugging and crying, yelling all sorts of things at the top of their lungs. You and Sam made your way into the middle of the group, hand in hand with smiles as large as life.

“Don’t think I didn’t hear you call baby a girl, Sam. You owe me fifty if it’s a boy!”

[notsoattractivearenti]

I'm All Yours (Mason Mount x Fem!Reader) 🔞

WC: 1.2K

Warnings: SMUT, oral sex (m receiving), curse and vulgar words. MINORS DNI

A/N: i think we all know why i wrote this one 🫣🤭 this was meant to be a fluff but somehow i started to write smutty lines and there was no turning back lmao blame mason. yes this is short, not proofread and i'm not good at writing smut btw so apologies in advance if this isn't decent 🫣 tho i hope you guys enjoy and i’d love to hear your thoughts thru ask/reply/reblog 🫶🏻 apologies for any errors! feedbacks are highly appreciated 🤍

–

After 5 weeks out because of the injury he picked up at the Spurs game in August, Mason was finally back on the field for a game against Crystal Palace for the EFL Cup. Throughout the recovery process, he was very determined to heal and get better than before because he didn’t like being away from the pitch for so long. All he wants is to give the new club and the fans the best performance – and getting injured was really upsetting for him, but he didn’t want to let it mess with his head. During his comeback game, he played really well during the first half before getting subbed off – he even did an assist from a corner kick which was perfectly finished by Casemiro with a header goal. Watching how he had gained his confidence back after injury and got to prove that he is a deserving addition to the team – unlike what some people said – made you feel even prouder than you’ve ever been of him.

When he went home after the game, he couldn’t stop telling you how good it felt to go back and win. He was also very happy he was able to make an assist, though he is now aiming for at least one goal for the next game.

“You know, Mase, the fans were very happy with how you played,” you told him with pride, “I’m delighted that you’re back, you were amazing.”

“Thank you, my love, I’ll keep trying to deliver. I’m going to give the best I can. For the fans, and most importantly you.” He smiled.

–

Little did the fans know, he had an advertisement video with Nike Underwear – which had been prepared from a while ago – and now ready to be posted. After the incredible game he just had the day before, uploading the video felt like perfectly timed to treat his fans. 

You weren’t present on the set when Mason and the Nike team shot the video, but you saw the pictures he had on his phone – for your benefit, he said teasingly. Since the first time he showed you those pictures, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of his phone. You slowly and carefully checked them out one by one, zoomed them in and out because you didn’t want to miss every little detail. 

“Fuck…” you panted.

“Mason… These are… Insanely hot.”

He was sitting next to you and noticed how your pupils were dilated, your breathing became heavy, and how you kept biting your lip – you were basically drooling over his pictures and he was really satisfied by your reaction.

“Uh, baby, you good?” He asked as he grinned cheekily.

“What?” You glanced at him for a second. “Oh, I...”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence. Those pictures just made you speechless – that man drove you crazy. And before you know it, you were feeling all hot and heavy and your pussy was dripping wet.

“Baby, I’m gonna need a minute…” You whimpered. “Now all that I think about is how bad I want to suck your dick and have your cum in my mouth. Thanks a lot, fucker.”

“Well…” he kissed your neck, then whispered in your ear, “I would very much love that.”

You looked at him and tried to make sure he really wanted you to give him a head. He assured you by unbuttoning his pants and pulled them down.

“Whenever you’re ready, Y/N.” 

You kissed him on the lips and immediately kneeled between his legs and started by rubbing his massive bulge to build up the arousal. Mason still had his boxers on, and when you felt his bulge became harder, you gently pulled them down.

The second his boxers came off, his dick was already fully erect and you couldn’t wait to have it inside your mouth. You started by spat on his hard dick and stroked it up and down. As your hand moved all over his dick, he bit his lip and let out a few moans.

“Mmm… Fuck… That feels good…”

You kept stroking and gave his dick tight squeezes a few times too.

“Y/N… Stop teasing, please…” He growled.

“Tell me what you want now, baby.”

“I want my cock… Inside your fucking mouth…” He begged.

You began by licking his dick up and down for a short while, then swirling your tongue on the tip. His breath hitched – the way your tongue felt around the head made his heart pound and he was feeling all flushed. You dipped your tongue into his slit, and he clenched both his fists and thighs. 

“Ohhh… F-f-fuck…” He panted.

With your hand still stroking, you slowly put his dick deep into your mouth. You started moving up and down at a slow pace, and gradually changed your pace. As you engulfed his dick within your sloppy mouth, he gripped your hair and you were making eye contact with him which he loves so much – he always thinks the eye contact made the action a lot sexier and he isn’t wrong.

“Don’t stop, baby…” He bit back a moan.

The faster and deeper you went, the more intense the waves of pleasure he had. When you moaned, he could feel the vibration coming from your throat and it gave a sexy touch.

“Y/N…”  he murmured, “I’m fucking close…”

The moment you heard him you sucked faster than before and his body began to shiver. He squeezed his eyes shut, soaking the pleasure in.

“Yeah, cum in my mouth.”

“I’m about to cu- ohhh…”

Suddenly, time stopped ticking and his vision faded to black. An explosion of pure bliss just hit and left him breathless. At that moment, he filled your mouth with his cum for you to swallow.

He lied on the bed and was breathing heavily, unable to speak even a word.

“Good fuck, Y/N,” he exhaled, “that was amazing.”

You got up and smiled, now about to clean up. “Mmhmm.”

As you cleaned up, you playfully asked him, “Mase, have you eaten a lot of fruits lately?”

He laughed. “Yeah, I think I have. Tasted sweet, didn’t it?”

You licked your lips – which were still covered with his cum – and nodded in agreement. “Love it.”

–

When the advertisement video was ready, he showed it to you before it got uploaded.

“Woah, you’re going to post this with no warning?” You jokingly asked.

“Yeah, no… Why?” He was confused for a moment.

“Mase, you do know how people are going to react, right? You’re literally wearing nothing but underwear and they can see your bulge? They’re going to go crazy, my love.”

He finally understood why and chuckled.

“Oh baby… I surely don’t mind.” He winked.

“Ugh, please.” You playfully rolled your eyes.

“Hey, don’t worry,” he stood in front of you and gently lifted up your chin, “you are the only one who gets to see and experience the whole show whenever you want to.”

He gave you little kisses starting from your forehead, nose, cheeks then a big one on your lips.

“Just so you know,” he added, “I’m all yours, Y/N.”

You blushed and laughed when you heard him say what he said. 

“Mmm… Lucky me.”

–

taglist: @pulisicsgirl @neverinadream @swimmingismywholelife @chilwellspulisic @bracedes @lovelynikol16 @thoseboysinblue @lizzypotter14 @masonsrem @landoslover

[princessbrunette]

kinktober : oct 21st

anakin skywalker x blowjob

there’s so much to love about giving ani head.

first of all would have to be how much he needs it. we all know it doesn’t take much to excite the man — and when everything you do is constantly turning him on, he requires satisfaction or it will sourly effect his mood.

he’s shameless about it too, if you’re laid out on your bed beside him in just one of his old training t-shirts and tiny shorts riding right up your ass, scrolling innocently through your holopad — he won’t be able to help himself. he’s sat up against the headboard, slumped slightly and curls tousled after a long day on the field. his eyes were meant to be trained on the holo-drama he was half watching on the screen at the foot of the bed, but instead his eyes run over you— reaching out to mindlessly grope your thigh meat. he gets hard impossibly fast, due to the way you don’t even look at him, just let him manhandle your thighs open for his viewing pleasure as you continue scrolling. the way your pussy lips swallow the material of your shorts slightly, the outline clearly visible had him urged to rip them off and destroy you — but tonight he craves something messier, something sloppier.

by the time you look at him, he’s got one hand holding your thigh open and one hand gripping the outline of his cock through his thin pants, groping and palming at it as he stares at your form darkly. “do you think i could borrow that pretty mouth for a while, my love?”

he needs it anywhere, truly. if he spots you at your own job, striding through the jedi temple to meet with some important senators — he’ll catch up beside you with long strides huffing and puffing about the terrible mood he’s in, only to pull you aside down a quiet hallway with something along the lines of “well, only windu giving me grief as usual. i’d probably feel a lot better if i could just use your sweet mouth a little. you know i’ll return the favour…” he nuzzles his lips lightly against your jaw, backing you riskily against a wall knowing all your weak spots to make you say yes.

to reiterate how shameless anakin is when it comes to blowjobs, there’s so much about moments like those that remind you how depraved and decorumless he’s willing to get in order to receive the pleasure he thinks he deserves from your mouth.

for example, if you’re kneeling below his stood figure, he’ll grin down at you — so charmingly, in that beautifully anakin way everyone knows and loves, tilting his head a little whilst he grips his shaft in one hand and your jaw in the order.

“tongue out.” he hums, voice low, smooth and well-spoken as always. you do as he says, and he slaps the tip on your tongue a few times with an amused and boyish chuckle before wiping his precum off on your bottom lip. “mmm.” he presses his lips together, like he’s encouraging you to enjoy the taste of him.

another shameless moment of his might be once you’re really going for it, sucking him off — he’ll have the audacity to start making requests. “gag on it for me a little more, pretty.” he’ll almost whine, feeling himself getting close. “suck on the tip like that again, that’s it beautiful.” he’ll always throw a sweet petname in there because he knows it’s your weakness and you’ll do anything he says.

lastly, if it’s not clear enough — anakin skywalker will always, always, kiss you after you suck him off. he’s slightly egotistical when it comes to his cock, knowing how large and well performing it is — so tasting himself was almost as rewarding as finishing in your mouth itself. he goes the extra mile, sucking the residue off your tongue with a loud smack and a quiet groan into your mouth.

“must sample my own goods, is that so wrong?” he smirks, somehow making such a goofy comment unbearably sexy.

requested tags ! : @hanasnx @jellydodger

[nathaslosthershit]

After All This Time

Summary:(Part 2 to The Truth Behind it All) After years of no contact, watching as his career continues to thrive, getting a message from Charles is the last thing she had expected, but she wasn’t the only one surprised after finally reconnecting. 

He had thought about this for a long time. The urge to reach out is one he had felt for years since they separated, but he could never push himself to do it. Then one day, five years later, he couldn’t take it anymore and sent her a message. Charles hadn’t thought he would be able to easily get into contact with her. Five years of silence on both sides didn’t give him much hope, so when she had answered his message hours after he sent it, he felt relieved.

---

From Charles Leclerc:

Hello. It has been a long time and I know this is sudden. I understand that it might not be okay for me to be doing this, and if it isn’t I understand if you do not answer but I still wanted to try. We left off on bad terms, our relationship had gone bad quicker than I think we had thought possible. I was hoping if we could meet up, for closure if anything else. I await your reply, but know that you do not need to give me one.

All the best, 

Charlie

Reply to Charles Leclerc:

Charles,

It is a surprise to hear from you, I won’t lie. But it isn’t an unwelcome one. I hope you are well! We did leave things badly and I would also like to get the chance to speak. Thank you for reaching out. I await your reply now.

---

After much back and forth, the two had decided when Charles traveled to her current country of residence for a race, they would meet. It took a few months, both waiting nervously for the day to arrive. When it did, they both met at a restaurant close to her place.

The first thing he noticed when he saw her was how much more beautiful she was. She still looked the same, maybe a little more wear and tear but she wore it with this air of maturity and wisdom she didn’t have last time he had seen her. She had grown a lot in the past five years and he could tell. It was nice to see.

He also looked the same but also different. She had noticed he too had this air of confidence that was less cocky and more founded on the fact that he had achieved so much, not just that he thought he could.

“You look… beautiful.” Charles said.

“You are very handsome yourself, although I think you have enough people telling you that regularly that it probably has lost all meaning.”

“Ha, It is nice to hear it from you though. How have you been? What are you doing now?”

“Still working in my same field. I got offered a better job here though, that's why I moved. I’d ask how racing is going but I already know the answer to that.”

“You watch my races?”

“I have never missed one. Even when we had just broken up. I am so proud, Charlie.”

“I thought you’d have stopped, especially with how cruel everyone was.”

“Nothing could ruin my love for it. Though we weren’t together, I still wanted to support you.”

This made Charles tear up. And watching him tear up made her do the same. They could feel all the love they once had for each other, but it was different this time.

“Are you seeing anyone? Have you settled? It must be hard to do that when you are on the road so much.” She asked.

“Ah no. I have tried but it is hard to get people to stick around through all of it. All the good and the bad.” This made her feel guilty. She had realized long after that she had put him in a hard position. He could have fought harder for them, but she could have too.

“I am sorry, Charles. You deserve someone stronger who can get through it. I wasn’t that person but I know they are out there.” “It is okay, I promise. We both weren’t ready for everything that came our way. It wasn’t fair to either of us but I should have tried to fight harder. I am sorry too.” They were silent as they held each other’s hands, until he asked, “What about you? Have you settled down?” She couldn’t miss the hopeful tone in his voice that just broke her heart.

“Yes actually. I met someone 5 months after we broke up. Married a year later. Had two kids after that. Twins.” It almost killed her to watch as his heart broke a second time hearing this. But even as hard as it was to tell him she moved on, she couldn’t stop how her eyes would light up talking about her family.

How could he be mad when she was so happy? 

“I am so happy to hear that.” He said. He was, deep down, even if it still hurt.

“My kids love watching your races. My husband says they are destined to go into motorsports, we are looking to put them into karting as soon as they are old enough. They love it.”

He laughed. The apple didn’t fall too far from the tree then. It made sense her kids would have inherited her love for the sport.

 “When they are older I would be happy to invite them onto the paddock. If you are comfortable, of course.”

“They would love that! Oh, Charles, thank you.” 

Conversation flowed easily after that. Two people, once so connected, catching up after all this time.

After a couple hours, she had a family to get back to, and he had a plane to catch later. He smiled the whole way home, it was a bittersweet moment. But once he got to his hotel, he let himself cry, mourn what could have been. What he didn’t know was that she was doing the same. She loved her husband with every fiber of her being. If she had the chance to do it over again she wouldn’t change a thing, too happy with her life now. But it still hurt to imagine a different version of their story, one where they stayed together. 

In another universe maybe.

Taglist: @mirrorball-6, @itsjustkhaos, @janeholt3, @loloekie, @babelllllllll, @ivegotparticulartaste

(Names crossed out couldn’t be tagged for whatever reason)