#got me cheering for the yellow team

[maybtomorrow]

hell yeah sports

[mo-ok]

Kiyama DenziYellow wearing his glasses. very important (you agree)

[imaginedisish]

Close to You (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Oh my god. I got so carried away with this. It was not supposed to be this long. Anyway, here's the beach fic, y'all. This one is inspired by "Close to You" by Gracie Abrams...which is an absolute banger. Hope you enjoy!

Summary: The team goes away on a weekend beach trip, and your pining for Logan comes to a head when you're forced to share a room...

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!!! SMUT!! Thigh riding, oral (f!receiving), fingering, Unprotected PIV (wrap it up!), cocky!Logan, softdom!Logan, soft!Logan, feelings, fluff, afab!reader/fem!reader, reader wears a bikini (no descriptions at all, though!), one bed trope (muahaha), friends to lovers, cursing, absolutely some grammatical errors bc this fic is so long, I think that's it!

Word Count: 6,577 this was so self indulgent

You step out onto the concrete and the salt in the air immediately coats your skin. The breeze is sticky and slightly humid, but it smells so good. You can hear the waves crashing against the sand, seagulls squawking above. Laughter on the boardwalk. Carnival music blaring from all the rides. It’s perfect—the sun is high, fluffy white clouds framing the endless blue sky.

“We’re going to have so much fun!” Jubilee cheers, closing the car door as she slides out of the Jeep. 

Jean and Scott step out of their car, parked just up ahead, unloading their bags. “It’s so nice of the Professor to give us the weekend off!” Jean says excitedly, placing her bag down onto the sidewalk and wheeling it up to the porch of the house. “I can’t believe he rented this place for us.” It’s a yellow, two-story cottage with a lemonade porch, adorned with white shutters and a shingled roof.

Logan makes his way to the trunk of his Jeep, pulling out bag after bag. You rush to his side, reaching inside the trunk. “Let me help you,” you mumble as the rest of the team excitedly approaches the house. 

Logan smiles and shakes his head, reaching for the same bag you are. His fingertips brush yours as he takes the bag away, your heart beating in your chest at the sudden contact. “Don’t worry, princess,” he huffs, smirking as he places the bag down in front of you. Heat rises to your chest at the nickname. “Don’t lift a finger. Go inside and check out the place.” He nods his head towards the front door and grabs another bag. 

You smile, throwing your backpack over your shoulder, grabbing two bags, and carrying them to the front door in protest. “Gonna help you anyway,” you say over your shoulder. Logan chuckles as he closes the truck, grabbing the rest of the duffle bags and following behind you. 

He meets your side as you walk through the doors. The walls are pale blue, and the bottom halves are lined with white shiplap. Beechwood covers the floors. The living room is light and airy, white curtains floating through opened windows. The kitchen is off to the side, and to the back is a large open sunroom. Just straight ahead are the stairs. 

Jean and Scott settle some groceries on the counter as Jubilee, Kurt, Rogue, and Gambit head upstairs to see the bedrooms. 

“Hey, guys?” Jubilee calls from upstairs. You can tell by the sound of her voice that something is off. “I thought the Professor said there’d be six beds.”

Jean puts away a bag of chips and steps back into the living room, following Jubilee’s voice up the steps, and disappearing as her feet hit the landing. “How many are there?” She asks, her voice muffled.

“Five,” Jubilee answers. “Three queens and two bunk beds, and Kurt and I took the bunks already.”

“That’s fine,” Jean says, shrugging her shoulders as she heads back downstairs. “We’ll all just be a little tight—closer quarters than usual.”

And that’s when it finally hits you. Three queen beds—and Kurt and Jubilee took the twin bunks. 

You’ll be sharing a room with Logan.

You turn to him and find that his eyes are already on you. “You okay sharing, princess?” He asks, nodding to the steps.

You swallow harshly, trying to mask your nervousness, hoping Logan can’t hear the way your heart beats out of your chest. “Yeah!” You say, trying to sound enthusiastic. “Totally fine with it.”

He nods, smiling softly as he walks towards the steps, his bags in his hands. You follow behind him, the wood stairs creaking with every step you take. 

Jean was not exaggerating; the upstairs of the house is extremely small. There may be four bedrooms—but bedroom is a generous title. Each room is only large enough to hold a queen bed, a single dresser, and a small nightstand on either side of the bed. There’s little to no walking room. One of the rooms—Kurt and Jubilee’s—has just a bunk bed and a nightstand, with a tiny wardrobe in the corner. In the center of the tight hallway is a bathroom with a simple sink, toilet, and a stand-up shower. 

Logan steps into the first bedroom to the left of the stairs and puts his bags down on the ground. “You sure you’re okay with this?” He asks, watching as you put your bags down next to his. “I can sleep on the couch if you’re uncomfortable.”

You shake your head, walking over to the window and taking in the view of the ocean. “Don’t worry,” you say, watching kids run across the sand, trying to distract yourself from how close Logan is to you in this tiny room. “We’re adults.” You turn to face him, fighting the urge to let your eyes trail up and down his body. “We can share.” Or at least, you hope you can. 

You can handle this for a weekend. You can force down your feelings—can ignore your massive crush on Logan for seventy-two hours. That’s all this is. A weekend trip. This is doable. You’ve been through so much worse than this. 

“If you change your mind, you can let me know,” Logan says, reaching his arm out towards your shoulder. His knuckles brush against your bare skin, and you let yourself lean into his touch. He’s warm, solid, cozy—

“Let’s go to the beach!” Jubilee interrupts, Logan’s hand falling from your shoulder instantly. “We didn’t come here to sit in a house all weekend, did we?” She jumps away from the door and runs down the stairs. 

 “Kid has a point,” Logan says, shrugging his shoulders and nodding towards the door. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” you say, smiling widely. “Already have my bathing suit on.” Logan smiles back and grabs your wrist, tugging you into the hallway, down the stairs, and out the door. 

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

You’re sitting on the beach, watching as Jubilee and Kurt splash each other recklessly in the water. Jean sits in a chair, reading a book, while Scott lays on a beach towel, eyes likely closed behind his glasses. Rogue and Gambit walk down the shoreline, hand in hand.

Logan stands up from the beach blanket you share, tugging his beater up and over his head. “I’m going in,” he says, just to you. “Wanna come?” He reaches out his hand again, the same hand that tugged you the whole way here. You bite your lip, nerves building in your stomach again. “Come on,” Logan says, smirking. “I don’t bite.”

Your heart flutters in your chest, and you take his hand, standing up. You let go and tug your shorts down your legs. You look up at Logan as your fingertips find the hem of your tank top, his eyes trained firmly on you. Your stomach somersaults as you pull your shirt up your body, revealing your bikini top, knowing Logan is watching. 

Logan’s throat bobs as he swallows. He nods towards the ocean, wordlessly grabbing your hand again and tugging you along. 

The waves lap at your ankles, and you force yourself into the cold water. Logan seemingly has no problem at all, pulling you along from a few feet ahead. The water is already up to his hips. He looks behind at you, all wide-eyed and happy. 

“You’re not afraid, are you?” He teases, squeezing your hand tighter. Your heart drums against your ribcage at the feeling. He’s never held your hand like this. You try to shove down your feelings, to brush away how having him this close makes you feel, but nothing changes. You want him all the same. 

You take a deep breath and shake your head as the cold water barrels against the middle of your thighs. “No,” you protest. “I’m just freezing.” 

Logan smiles wider. “You gotta get all the way in!” He tugs you further, pulling you closer to him so that you’re shoulder to shoulder. You can’t tell if it’s the icy waves or your proximity to Logan that makes your heart freeze in your chest, that makes you crave the warmth of his body. You want to be close to him. You want him to pull you into his chest and hold you. 

“Do I have to?” You ask playfully, a half-smile turning up at the corner of your mouth. 

He jokingly rolls his eyes. “Come on,” he says, dropping your hand and wrapping his arm around your waist instead. “I’ve got you,” he whispers. You choke on your own breath as he guides you further into the water. “You okay?” He asks. 

“I’m fine,” you mumble, his fingertips pressing against the bare skin of your stomach. Goosebumps pebble your flesh. Finally, Logan guides you all the way into the water, up to your shoulders. It’s a surprisingly calm day—the waves easy and gentle. 

Logan lets go of your waist and treads water, slipping underneath the dark blue current and coming back up—his hair wet, drops of water dripping down his face and neck. You can’t help the smile that spreads across your lips at the sight. 

“Your turn,” he whispers, squeezing his eyes half shut as he swims towards you. 

Your smile drops as you swim away. Logan grabs your ankle, pulling you towards him. You yelp as he tugs you closer. You turn around and splash him playfully, freeing yourself from his grasp as he wipes the salt water off his face. 

You laugh, still backing away from Logan. He creeps forward, assessing you like an animal stalks its prey. “You’re not getting away that easy, pretty girl,” he huffs. 

What was that? Your eyes widen as those last two words repeat in your head. You’re so distracted that you don’t notice him closing the gap between the two of you. Suddenly his hands are on your hips, dragging you into his chest. 

His grip is like iron around your waist, keeping you in place, your hips pressed to his, your chests touching lightly. You don’t feel the coldness of the water anymore—you can’t feel anything except Logan. 

“What am I gonna do with you?” He asks, his voice low and raspy. The world stopped long ago, his arms wrapping around your back now, pulling you closer. The playfulness of the moment disappears—this is something else, something more serious. Logan brings his face closer to yours, his lips just centimeters away. This is it, you think to yourself. The moment when everything finally changes—

“Hey!” A familiar voice calls from the beach. Logan’s eyes fall closed—an almost defeated look painting across his face. Your head whips to the sand, and the team is standing by the beach chairs. Jubilee waves you and Logan over. “We’re going to the boardwalk! Come on!”

Logan opens his eyes. You think he’s going to push you away, to let you go, but he only holds you tighter. “Give us a second!” He shouts, frustration clear in his voice. 

But Jubilee crosses her arms against her chest. Scott chuckles and walks ahead with Jean. Gambit and Rogue look at each other knowingly, and Kurt teleports to the edge of the water. 

“And just like that…” Logan murmurs, half to himself, half to you. “Moment ruined.” 

You tilt your head, the implication of his words wracking your brain. “What do you mean—” 

But Logan is pulling you along with him to the shore before you can finish asking for clarification. His arms drop from your waist, his hand grabbing yours to guide you onto the sand. He bends down, picking up your shorts and top from the beach blanket the team left out, and passing them to you. 

“Thanks,” you mumble, your hands parting as he shoves his beater up and over his head. Once you’re dressed, flip-flops and all, you join the team and make your way up to the boardwalk. 

Gambit is talking with Logan about something just ahead, trailing on and on, clearly irritating Logan, while Rogue falls back to walk with you. 

“So,” she says softly, her eyes flitting between you and Logan. “What’s going on there, sugar?” She asks, smirking. 

You furrow your brows, trying to hide your smile. “Nothing that I know of,” you say, somewhat honestly. This might be nothing—might just be a friend teasing another friend. A friend whose lips were just inches from yours, so close that you could feel his breath fanning across your face. A friend who dug his fingers into your waist to pull you closer to his—

“Nothing, huh?” She asks, snapping you back to reality. “Because I think he would’ve kissed you if Jubilee didn’t interrupt,” she whispers so only you can hear. 

Heat rises to your chest at her words. “I don’t know. We’re just friends…” You trail off. 

“We’ll see about that, sugar,” Rogue says, walking ahead, tearing Gambit away from Logan. Logan’s shoulders visibly relax once Gambit is gone, and he looks back at you, slowing his steps so that you can meet his side. 

“Hi,” he husks, smiling down at you. 

You smile back, the warmth of his hand suddenly spreading across your lower back. It’s gentle, the ghost of a touch, almost not quite there—more tentative than in the ocean when it felt like no one was watching. But it’s solid and centering all the same. 

“Let’s go on the Ferris wheel!” Jubilee suggests, holding out the ticket booklet that Jean and Scott ran ahead to buy. She tears out tickets—three for each person. Jean and Scott hold hands and walk to the front of the line. Rogue leans over to Jubilee, whispering something into her ear that makes her eyes widen. She nods and pairs off with Kurt. Rogue turns around and winks at you while Logan isn’t looking. 

You look up at him and see that he’s staring off at the sun slowly setting. Pink, orange, and red erupt in the sky, the colors blending, painting across the wispy clouds. “Looks like it’s just you and me,” you say as the others climb into the Ferris wheel gondolas in pairs. 

Logan smirks, his eyes finding yours as you approach the front of the line. “Looks like it, pretty girl,” he husks. There it is again. Pretty girl. The ride attendant slows down the wheel, and you and Logan slip inside the gondola. You think maybe he’ll sit across from you, but he sits next to you instead. 

The attendant closes the door of the gondola, and the ride starts up. Once you’re off the ground, Logan slips his arm around your shoulder, his palm warm against your bare skin. “This okay?” He asks, his lips at the shell of your ear. 

“Y-yeah,” you stutter, your breath catching in your throat as his thumb brushes gentle circles into your arm. You let your head rest in the crook of his neck, and he leans against you, fitting together like puzzle pieces. 

It’s silent communication—knowing, but not saying. You can feel his intention as his arm tugs you closer, his lips at the crown of your head. Your heart beats out of your chest—for the millionth time today—and you know he can hear it. 

You reach the top of the Ferris wheel and look out at the ocean, the sun hitting the water, turning the blue waves to gold. “It’s beautiful,” you mumble, the current rippling against the shore, glistening vibrantly like the ocean figured out alchemy. 

Logan chuckles softly. “I can think of something prettier, you know,” he husks, his lips still pressed into the crown of your head. Your heart thumps in your chest at his words. You lift your head, looking up at him.

His eyes meet yours, a soft smile playing upon his lips. “Logan, I—”

But the gondola comes to a sudden stop, and the door to the car swings open. You’re already back on the ground. The attendant crosses his arms, waiting for you and Logan to get out. Logan rolls his eyes, grabbing your hand and helping you back onto the boardwalk. The team is already off the ride, waiting for the two of you at the exit.

“Why don’t we play some games and then head back to the house for the night?” Scott suggests, his arm wrapped around Jean’s waist. 

Jubilee smiles widely. “Yes! I wanna play the game where you throw the lobster into the pot!”

“Gambit’s gonna win chere a prize,” Gambit drawls, tugging Rogue into his chest. “The biggest one Gambit can find.” Rogue giggles, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

Jubilee and Kurt run off to the other side of the boardwalk, immediately finding the lobster-pot game. Jean and Scott follow behind, making sure they don’t get into trouble. Rogue and Gambit go out on their own, heading toward the ring toss game. 

You and Logan are left alone. Again. Surely everyone is doing this on purpose. “What do you wanna play?” You ask, nodding towards the array of games lined up on the opposite side of the boardwalk. 

His eyes meet yours, flitting down to your lips and then back up to your eyes. “Whatever you want, darlin’.” You smile, grabbing his hand and tugging him towards balloon darts. 

You approach the booth, and Logan pulls out his wallet, handing a five-dollar bill to the woman running the game. She slides a cup of five darts towards you and Logan, and steps off to the side, away from the balloons. Logan watches as you grab a dart and throw, completely missing the balloon you were aiming for. You groan, rolling your eyes, and grab another dart. 

“Here,” Logan rasps, standing behind you. He holds your hand in his, lining the dart up to a balloon. His other arm wraps around your waist, the front of his hips pressing into your back. “Like this,” he murmurs, pulling your hand back. You let go of the dart when he thrusts forward. The dart pierces a balloon, the pop echoing through the booth. 

You look up at him, his face close to yours, and smile. He grabs another dart, his eyes still focused on you, and throws without looking away, popping another balloon. “Now you’re just showing off,” you say teasingly as your smile grows wider. He grabs another dart, aiming at a bigger balloon this time, and pierces it with ease. 

“Gotta win you a prize, pretty girl,” he says, grabbing the last dart from the cup, and tossing it across the booth, directly into the biggest balloon on the board. It pops—of course—and the game attendant’s jaw drops. 

She shakes her head, walking over to the bigger prizes. “Never seen anyone do that before…” she trails off, pointing to the giant plushies. “You can pick any of these.”

Logan’s arm sneakily wraps around your waist as he waits for you to pick between a giant fox, panda, or dolphin. “The fox, definitely the fox,” you decide. 

The attendant grabs the fox and pulls it down, handing it to you. You squeeze it to your chest, Logan’s grip on your waist tightening. “He’s so cute!” You giggle, looking up at Logan, who’s guiding you towards the edge of the boardwalk. “Thank you,” you say softly.

He shakes his head and looks out towards the water. “It was nothing,” he says, his arm still around your waist as you lean against the railing of the boardwalk. The sun is falling behind the horizon, stars rising in the sky. 

His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he turns to face you. “Listen…” He starts, his jaw working as his grip on your waist falls away, his forearms bracing on the railing. Your shoulder presses against his, the tension between you palpable. “I’ve been thinking…” But he pauses again, his eyes searching yours. 

“We ready to head back to the house?” Scott asks, interrupting the conversation. Logan’s eyes roll into the back of his head, and he leans forward. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Logan mutters, thinking you can’t hear him, resting his head against the railing. 

Jubilee grabs your arm, holding up her little stuffed teddy bear. “Look what I won!” Her smile drops when she sees your giant fox. “Oh my god, my bear is nothing compared to that! That thing is massive!”

You smirk, glancing over at Logan. “Wouldn’t have gotten it if it wasn’t for him.” Logan lifts his head and smiles sheepishly at you. 

The moon rises high in the quickly darkening sky. You’re not quite sure where the day went. Everything happened so quickly—the hours spent on the sand, Logan tugging you into the water. It was perfect. Beyond perfect. And now it was time to head back. 

The team treks down the boardwalk and onto the street, trailing a few blocks before arriving back at the house. You and Logan walk shoulder to shoulder the whole way there, leading at the front of the group. Logan grabs the key from his pocket, unlocks the door, and you all head inside. 

Jubilee and Kurt run into the kitchen scavenging for snacks. Gambit and Rogue crash onto the living room couch. 

“We’re gonna head to bed,” Scott says, Jean following him up the stairs. “Night, guys.” Everyone mutters soft goodnights in response, and a comfortable silence falls upon the house. 

“Gonna steal the upstairs shower before they get to it,” you whisper to Logan, nodding to Jubilee and Kurt. 

He smirks. “I’ll shower down here,” he says back. “See you upstairs?” He asks. 

“Yeah,” you answer, suddenly remembering that you’re sharing not just a room with Logan, but a bed. You walk away and head upstairs, grabbing your pajamas from your duffle bag and making your way to the bathroom.

You turn on the water and undress. The shower is warm and relaxing, releasing the tension you had spent the entire day holding in. But the peace is temporary—your thoughts drift off to Logan. You imagine him sitting on the edge of the bed, shirtless, waiting for you to join him. Butterflies flutter in your stomach, and you try to ignore the heat growing at the bottom of your belly. Maybe you should’ve taken a cold shower instead. 

You finish up in the shower, turning the water off and grabbing a towel. You reach for your pajamas, only to realize you forgot your bottoms and your bra. You step into your panties and shrug your oversized band t-shirt over your head. You push the bathroom door open just a crack, and seeing no one in the hallway, you make a break for it, tip-toeing to your room. You slip inside and shut the door. 

Logan coughs from behind you, and you whip around. “S-sorry,” he stutters, standing up from the edge of the bed. He’s shirtless, just like you imagined he’d be, wearing only a pair of boxers. His hair is still damp from his shower. “I didn’t mean to—”

You cut him off. “No, no,” you assure. “It’s totally fine.” You’re worried you sound too eager, too focused on making sure he stays. You clear your throat nervously, stepping towards your duffle bag. You lean down, hoping your t-shirt is still covering your ass as you rifle through your belongings. You groan when you finally realize you forgot to pack pajama shorts. You stand up and make your way around to the left side of the bed.

“Everything okay?” Logan asks, following suit and walking to the right side of the bed. 

“Yeah,” you say. “I, um…” You trail off, motioning towards your duffle bag. “I forgot pajama bottoms,” you finally spit out. “If you’re uncomfortable or—”

“No,” Logan cuts you off this time. “I’m not uncomfortable at all.”

You smile, climbing into the bed and slipping under the covers, and Logan does the same. He rolls onto his side and turns off the lamp—the only light on in the room. The space is engulfed in darkness save for the pale light of the moon pushing through the curtains. 

You take a deep breath; you’re more nervous than you can comprehend. You could simply turn away from Logan, but you’re too anxious to move. Your stomach somersaults as his knee brushes against your thigh. You force your eyes shut, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. 

“I can hear your heartbeat, you know,” Logan mumbles into the dark room, shuffling under the covers. “You okay?”

You swallow harshly, humming a soft mhm, too distracted to form a complete sentence. 

“I know you aren’t telling the truth, pretty girl,” Logan whispers, his hand finding your waist. “I can sleep on the couch, if you—”

“No,” you protest, the words escaping your lips almost uncontrollably. “It’s f-fine,” you stammer. “I’m fine.”

He chuckles darkly. “Then what’s got you so worked up, huh?” Oh. He knows. He has to know. You can hear it in his voice. 

“N-nothing,” you lie, your eyes fluttering open. Logan is closer to you now, his fingertips trailing down to your thighs, to the hem of your shirt. 

“Relax,” Logan husks, his hand slipping back up your body and settling on your waist. He tugs you closer to him. “This okay?” He asks, and you hum a quiet yes. You can feel the tension thickening, feel it readying to snap. He breaks the silence. “Thought about this all day, you know.”

Your eyes widen at the confession. “Th-this?” You ask, your legs tangling with his. 

“Being alone with you,” Logan rasps. Your shirt hikes up as he pulls you into his chest. “Wanted to get you alone earlier,” he says, his hand sliding back down your body, playing with the hem of your shirt before slipping underneath. His fingertips drag along your stomach. 

You curse under your breath, Logan’s forehead pressing against yours. “Logan,” you whisper, his name the only thing you can think of. You’re sure he can smell the arousal building between your thighs. 

“There’s no going back from this. You know that, don’t you?” He whispers, his breath hot against your lips. He’s so close, his thigh pushing between your legs, bumping against your core. 

“Yes,” you sigh. “Don’t wanna go back.” 

Your eyes flutter closed, overwhelmed by how close Logan is to you. “Good,” he breathes. “Because you have no idea how much I need you.” 

His lips crash against yours, his thigh dragging along your core. You moan into his mouth, his tongue swiping across your lower lip. You part your lips, inviting him inside, his tongue tasting yours. 

“Logan,” you whine, involuntarily bucking your hips, grinding down on his thigh. “N-need you too.”

“I know, beautiful,” he soothes, gripping your waist, rolling you onto your back, pushing you into the mattress. “Fucking thought about you all day, always thinking about you.” He slides your shirt up above your tits, drinking you in with his eyes. “Wanted you for so long, pretty girl.” He hovers over you, balancing on his forearm as his free hand explores your body.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he palms your left breast, pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and then doing the same to the other side. It’s dizzying having him this close. You can smell his body wash—notes of musk and pine and a hint of leather on his skin. 

“Please,” you beg, not quite sure what you’re even begging for. All you know is how badly you want him—need him. 

Logan buries his face into the crook of your neck as his thumb rolls over your nipple, biting down on your pulse point and sucking the sensitive skin between his lips. “Please what, darlin’?” He mumbles, continuing his assault on your neck. 

“F-fuck,” you whimper, your hips rocking against Logan’s. “W-want you to fuck me.”

“Yeah? That what you want?” Logan teases, his hand pushing between your legs, his fingertips finding your clit through your panties. “What if I wanted to taste you first?”

“W-whatever you want,” you moan, grinding down onto his hand. “I’m yours.”

He lifts his head from your neck and presses his forehead to yours. “Whatever I want?” His voice is thick, cocky, almost mocking. “You’re mine,” he husks, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, then to your jaw, your neck. “All fucking mine.” He crawls down your body, trailing kisses down the valley of your breasts, your stomach, stopping just above the hem of your panties. 

Your hips lift off the mattress as his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, and he tugs them down your legs, throwing them to the floor. He nestles between your thighs, his breath hot against your cunt. You tremble in anticipation, watching as he breathes you in, his jaw working. You can see in his eyes that he’s holding himself back. 

“Are you sure you want this, sweetheart?” He asks, his voice suddenly soft, his cockiness replaced by genuine care. "Not gonna be able to stop once I start.” But you know he doesn’t just mean in the moment, right now—he means forever. 

“I’m sure, Lo,” you whine. It comes out like a prayer, like a desperate cry, a guilty plea. 

And then he buries his face into your heat, his tongue swiping through your folds. He grunts against you, flicking your clit before stroking his tongue through your folds again. “Fuck,” Logan groans, his face pressing harder into you, his tongue exploring your cunt. “Tastes better than I ever imagined,” he mumbles against you, the vibrations of his voice pulsing against your core. “So fucking sweet.”

Your hips jolt away from him as his tongue laps at your sensitive clit. His palms quickly slide under your legs, wrapping around your thighs, yanking you back to his face, and holding you down onto the mattress. “Don’t move, princess,” he chides, his nails digging into your flesh. “Wanna eat this pretty pussy.” 

“L-Lo,” you stutter as his tongue draws tight, rapid circles around your clit. You’re already close, his teasing words enough to push you over the edge. But you know he’s nowhere near done—he’s only getting started. 

His right hand loosens its grip around your thigh, his nails dragging down the curve of your ass and towards your folds. His fingertips prod your slit, spreading your slick. “So fucking wet for me, pretty girl,” he praises, his lips wrapping around your clit, his teeth grazing the bud lightly as he sucks. “Want my fingers?” He asks, knowing your answer, but wanting to hear you beg for him. 

“Yes, Logan, please. Need—” 

He’s thrusting two long, thick fingers deep inside you before you can finish your sentence. “Fuck,” he whispers, pulling out and pumping back in—down to his knuckles. He stills inside you, letting you adjust to him. “So goddamn tight.” His tongue laps at your clit. “Gonna have to work you open for me, hm?” He mutters, thrusting in and out now. 

You’re so overwhelmed, your swollen clit already overstimulated. He wraps his lips around your clit again, sucking harder this time, his fingers unrelenting as they plunge deeper with every pump. His tongue draws long, hard strokes around your bud, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. 

It feels like a wildfire is spreading through your veins, a current dragging you under and holding you down. Warmth blossoms in your belly. “Doing so good for me, beautiful,” Logan praises, his fingers fucking into you. Your walls flutter around him at his words, sucking him in deeper. “Know you’re close, pretty girl.”

“Logan,” you moan, his tongue drawing those tight circles around your clit again. He’s adding more pressure, his fingers dragging along your walls, scissoring inside you, splitting you in two. “Please, need to come…” You trail off, your back arching off the mattress, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. 

“Come for me,” Logan demands, his voice dark and filled with lust. “Wanna know what it tastes like.” His tongue presses harder into your clit, his fingers rocking in and out of your entrance. “Wanna see that pretty face when you let go.” 

And then the tension breaks, white-hot heat pouring freely from the bottom of your belly. Your vision goes blurry as Logan laps at your clit, his fingers still pumping in and out, working you through your high. You moan his name, pleasure ripping through your body in intense waves. 

His pumps relax, his fingers stilling inside you before he finally pulls out. His face is still buried against your cunt, licking long stripes through your folds. He’s savoring the taste of your release, drinking every last drop you have to give. “Can’t get enough of you,” he husks. “Could do this forever.” 

He licks one last long stripe through your folds before lifting his face from your cunt. He’s a mess—your release glistening on his chin, his hair disheveled, his boxers all wrinkled. Your heart beats in your chest at the sight. All this, just for you. 

Logan crawls up your body, hovering over you again, lowering down onto his forearm. “Wanna fuck you, beautiful,” he murmurs, his forehead pressing to yours. “Wanna know what you feel like.” His hand slips between your legs, his fingertips finding your swollen clit and giving it a gentle pinch. Your hips buck against him at the sudden sensation. 

“Wanna feel you too,” you whimper, your arms wrapping around his back. “Want you inside me, please.” 

And then he’s tugging his boxers down his legs, his erection pressing against the inside of your thigh. You can’t see—but you can feel just how massive he is. His tip slides through your folds, spreading your arousal. 

“You know how bad I need you?” Logan whispers, his lips finding yours. He bites your lower lip and kisses away the pain. “You know how long I’ve been thinking about this?” And then he sinks himself inside you, down to the hilt with one smooth, fluid thrust. “Thought about this every day since I met you.” 

Your muscles release and contract at his words. His hips stall, letting you adjust to the size of him. You feel indescribably full. He’s splitting you open, stretching you out, claiming you as his. His hips pull back, his cock sliding out, and he plunges back in, somehow deeper this time. 

“Th-thought about you too,” you stutter, already too fucked out to form a coherent thought. “Always wanted you.” Logan sets a reckless pace as his fingertips find your clit again, working long, languid strokes into the bud, teasing you, leading you on. 

“You feel so perfect,” Logan praises, rocking into you, his cock dragging along your walls. “So fucking warm, so tight. Made for me.” His lips are on yours again, his tongue slipping into your mouth, tasting you, swallowing your moans. “Never gonna want anybody else, pretty girl.”

His hips snap against yours, his fingers circling your clit faster now. “Just want you, Lo,” you choke, the tension building at the bottom of your belly, a fire burning through your bones. “Only want you.”

“I know,” he whispers, his voice suddenly soft, contrasting with the way he pounds into you recklessly, hitting that sweet spot inside you with every pump of his cock. “It’s you, just you.” You can hear the emotion in his voice, the sincerity, the desperation, the aching longing. 

Your chest heaves against his. He’s fucking you to get closer to you, to be as deep inside you as possible. This isn’t just sex—this isn’t just some tension that needs to be broken. It’s an invisible string keeping the two of you tied closely together. Maybe it was stitched by the Fates centuries ago, laid out carefully, a plan to be executed. Maybe everything that led you to this moment was always meant to be. Because here you are now, his lips soft and hungry against yours, his words tearing through your resolve, his cock buried deep inside you, searching for a way to get deeper. And all you can think is…

This is it. This is what people mean when they talk about love—that word that changes its meaning every time you say it. The word with a definition that always escapes you. You know what it means now. 

“Logan, I’m gonna…” You trail off, that fire in your belly spreading through your body as he rams into you, the sound of your skin slapping against his echoing along the walls of the tiny room. His fingers press harder into your clit, pinching softly, and then circling again. 

His cock twitches inside you. “Me too, beautiful,” he hums, his pace growing sloppier, his cock throbbing again. “You’re so perfect,” he praises. “Love you so much, pretty girl.”

And then the tension snaps, electricity buzzing through your nerve endings, fire prickling your skin as you melt into him. “Love you too, Lo.” Your muscles contract and release, squeezing around him, coming undone. 

Your walls clench around him again, and you know it’ll be the thing that pushes him over the edge. “Fuck, wanna come inside you,” he pants.

You wrap your legs around his waist, keeping him close. “Please,” you beg, and with one more thrust he’s painting your walls, filling you up and letting go. 

You share one breath, panting, foreheads pressed together as Logan’s pumps slow, his cock stalling inside you. His fingers slip away from your clit, his arms reaching under your back as he carefully pulls out. You feel empty without him inside you. 

“Y-you can stay inside, if you want,” you offer as Logan rolls you onto your side, pulling you into his chest. 

He presses a chaste kiss to your forehead. “Is that what you want, pretty girl?” He asks, his lips pressing to your nose now. 

“Yes,” you whisper. He swallows harshly as one of his hands slides down your body, hiking your leg up and over his hip. He lines his half-hard cock up with your entrance, his lips finding yours as he slides back in. Your eyes flutter closed at the feeling of being full of him again. 

He groans as he bottoms out. “So fucking good,” he praises, his arms wrapping around your back again, tugging you into his chest. 

You lay in comfortable silence, listening as Logan’s breathing becomes rhythmic. Your eyes grow heavy, and you bury your face into Logan’s chest. You can hear his heart beating.

“Love you,” he mumbles against the crown of your head. You can hear the sleepiness in his voice, the exhaustion. 

“Love you too,” you whisper, your breathing matching his, like you’re no longer two separate people, but one.

He presses a kiss to your head. “So lucky I met you,” he huffs. You smile against him. “So lucky I finally figured it out.”

“Figured what out?” You ask, looking up at him. 

He smiles down at you. “What love is supposed to feel like...” He trails off, and you watch as he chooses his next words. “What living is supposed to feel like.” 

You can feel tears brimming in the corners of your eyes, and you do your best to blink them away. “Me too, Lo,” you whisper, pausing…

“Me too.”

tags: @wittyjasontodd @galacticglitterglue @silversprings-mp3 @zxaera @spiderset @alastorssimp @alsoprettyinpink @figsnpassionfruits @prettyseaveins @ilysmdovie12 @evasmlp @derbygracie @rammakela @fanfic-writing-barbie @pedrohoe04 @cosmiccandydreamer @movhoney @honeyfewr @ricefordays-blog1 @maniuplatour *as always, I'm so sorry if I forgot to tag you*

[pucksandpower]

Prince of Monaco

Charles Leclerc x Princess of Monaco

Summary: what better way for the honorary Prince of Monaco to celebrate finally winning his home race than with the Princess of Monaco?

Warnings: 18+ content

The roar of the crowd is deafening as Charles brings his Ferrari across the finish line, finally winning his home race after years of heartbreak. His mechanics swarm the barriers, nearly delirious with excitement, but Charles just leans back in his seat, letting the accomplishment sink in.

He’s done it. He’s conquered the streets that have taunted him for so long.

As he’s ushered up to the iconic podium, Charles looks out at the sea of fans cheering his name and spots you, radiant in a summery yellow dress, beaming up at him.

For a moment, time seems to stop as your eyes meet. You give him a little wave and he nearly stumbles on his way to the top step, feeling lightheaded.

When you step forward with the winner’s trophy, Charles’ heart starts pounding. Your fingers brush against his ever so slightly as you hand it over and he swears he can feel an electric current pass between you. The sleek lines of the trophy blur before his eyes as he struggles to catch his breath.

“Félicitations, Charles,” you say warmly, resting a hand on his arm.

Charles blinks rapidly as his cheeks start to burn. Up close, you look like an honest-to-god angel descended to earth. How does one even speak to heavenly beings?

“Th-thanks,” he stammers out, mentally kicking himself for sounding like such an idiot. He needs to get it together. “I mean, merci, Your Serene Highness.”

You laugh, the warm sound instantly putting him at ease. “Please, just call me Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he repeats dumbly. It’s easily the most beautiful combination of letters he’s ever heard.

“You should celebrate your big win tonight,” you say, a playful glint in your eyes. “But maybe don’t get too carried away with the champagne.”

Charles frowns in confusion. Is that a royal decree to take it easy on the partying?

“I was hoping you could pick me up tomorrow evening,” you continue blithely. “For our date.”

Our … date? Charles’ eyes go wide as his jaw drops open. Is the most beautiful woman in the world really asking him out right now? In front of millions of people?

“Uh, I … we … huh?” He sputters inelegantly.

You just smile that radiant smile and lean in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “We do now,” you murmur against his skin, sending tingles down his spine. “I’ll see you at eight?”

Before Charles can formulate any kind of response, you give him one last brilliant grin and turn to congratulate Oscar Piastri on second place. He blinks down at the trophy in his hands, wondering if he’s dreaming all of this.

The rest of the podium celebration passes by in a blur. He holds up his trophy and waves to the crowd like he’s supposed to, but his mind is elsewhere, utterly consumed by the feeling of your lips on his skin and the knowledge that he has an actual date with the woman of his dreams.

As soon as the ceremonies conclude, his team is all over him, shouting congratulations and patting his back enthusiastically. Normally he’d be caught up in the revelry, basking in his victory, but now all Charles wants is to get out of there. He needs to chug about a gallon of water and take a very cold shower.

“Party tonight, eh mate?” Carlos calls out with a playful elbow to the ribs. “Got any special plans to celebrate?”

Charles feels the blush creeping back up his cheeks as he thinks about you — your warm laughter, your gentle touch, the promises of a date in your sparkling eyes. His lips tug up in a helpless smile.

“You could say that,” he murmurs, already counting down the hours until he gets to see you again.

The post-race celebrations kick into high gear, with champagne flowing freely and music thumping from every corner. Charles goes through the motions, reveling in his hard-won triumph but unable to fully let loose and enjoy himself. Not when a much bigger prize is waiting for him tomorrow night.

The hours drag by interminably as he waits for an acceptable time to make his excuses and leave the party behind. His friends rib him relentlessly for his uncharacteristic restraint.

“What’s got you so distracted, Calamar?” Pierre teases. “This isn’t like you at all!”

“Yeah, our boy’s got his eyes on something else tonight! Or would it be more accurate to say someone else?” Joris chimes in with an exaggerated wink.

Charles flushes but doesn’t deny it, fighting back a smile. If only they knew ...

It’s nearly 2 am by the time he extricates himself from the club, pleading an early morning commitment. No one believes his excuse for a second, but they let him go with plenty of cheers and well-meaning shoves.

As soon as Charles makes it back to his apartment, he starts feverishly getting ready for tomorrow, picking out the perfect outfit and incessantly checking the time. After tossing and turning fruitlessly for a couple of hours, he finally gives up on sleep, instead spending his morning going for a long run to burn off excess energy.

The day drags on at an excruciatingly slow pace. Every minute feels like an hour as he wills the clocks to move faster. He triple checks the address, runs through conversation starters in his head, and showers for the third time. This date has to go perfectly.

At 7:55 pm, Charles pulls up outside the royal palace, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as he tries to control his nerves. He takes one last steadying breath before getting out of the car and smoothing down his shirt.

Like an angel from on high, you suddenly appear in the palace doorway, looking impossibly radiant in a gauzy pink sundress that matches your warm smile perfectly.

“Y/N,” Charles breathes out reverently, drinking in your beauty. Up close, his heart is pounding so loudly he’s sure you must be able to hear it. “You look … wow.”

Your smile grows even brighter as you move towards him. “Well, you clean up pretty nicely yourself.”

There’s a brief, charged silence as you stand face to face, just drinking each other in. Then, seeming to make up your mind about something, you grab his hand and tug him close.

“Come on,” you murmur, eyes sparkling mischievously. “I’ve got the perfect date night planned for us.”

With your hand in his, Charles would follow you straight into the depths of hell itself. He manages an eager nod, unable to tear his eyes away from your face.

Whatever you have planned, he knows it will be perfect. So long as he gets to spend the evening by your side, he couldn’t care less what you do.

You lace your fingers through his, shooting him one last brilliant smile, and lead the way to what is undoubtedly going to be the best night of Charles’s life.

***

Warm rays of morning sunlight filter through the sheer curtains, gently rousing Charles from the most blissful sleep of his life. He blinks slowly, taking in the lavish bedchamber with its soaring ceilings and intricate moldings. Plush rugs cover the marble floors and the bed he’s cocooned in is easily the most luxurious he’s ever experienced, with soft Egyptian cotton sheets caressing his skin.

For a delirious moment, Charles thinks he might still be dreaming. But then his eyes drift to you, sleeping peacefully beside him, and his heart stutters in his chest. It all comes rushing back in a torrent of sense memories — your radiant smile, your tinkling laugh, the feeling of your hand in his as you led him out on the most magical night of his life.

The two of you stroll hand-in-hand through the winding alleyways of Monaco, ducking down tiny side streets to places only locals know. Charles is enchanted as you show him hidden corners of your city that he’s never seen before, sharing fascinating stories and anecdotes all the while.

“This little trattoria has been run by the same family for nearly a century,” you explain as you lead him into a tiny, unassuming restaurant positively dripping with old world charm. The smiling owner greets you like a beloved daughter, embracing you warmly.

Over a seemingly endless parade of rustic Italian delicacies and a hearty red wine, you and Charles talk for hours about everything and nothing - childhoods and ambitions, favorite books and movies, embarrassing stories that have you both crying with laughter.

When the owner sends over a giant slice of homemade tiramisu with a wink, you steal the first bite right off Charles’ fork with a cheeky grin. A bit of mascarpone clings to the corner of your mouth and without thinking, Charles leans in to kiss it away, savoring the sweet taste of you mingled with the rich dessert.

You make a soft noise of surprise against his lips before melting into the kiss, cupping his face tenderly. When you finally part, both a little breathless, there’s a new burning heat in your eyes that makes Charles’ heart skip a beat.

“Shall we go for a walk?” You murmur, already sliding out of the booth. Your hand finds his and you lace your fingers together as you lead him back out into the night ...

Just thinking about last night’s date makes Charles’ heart feel fit to burst. You had taken him on a romantic tour of Monaco unlike anything he’s ever experienced, showing him secret nooks and hidden gems even he didn’t know. He had been so entranced just drinking in the city through your eyes, hanging on your every word.

But those heated looks you started sending his way after that first electrifying kiss had made it clear the real night was only just beginning ...

You stroll along the moon-dappled harbor, pointing out your favorite super-yachts and regaling Charles with scandalous stories of the jetset lives of their owners. He laughs delightedly at your wicked sense of humor, tucking you against his side as you wander the lamp-lit cobblestone streets.

When you lead him up a winding path to an old stone overlook, his breath catches in his throat. Twinkling lights from the city and harbor spread out as far as the eye can see, the tiny pinpricks glittering like a million stars. You come up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist as you nuzzle against his back.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” You murmur reverently. “This is my favorite view in all of Monaco.”

Charles turns in your embrace until you’re pressed flush together, hardly daring to breathe. “It is,” he rasps out, getting lost in the depths of your eyes. “But not as beautiful as you.”

You let out a shaky breath, eyes flicking down to his lips for a heated moment, before surging up on your tiptoes to capture his mouth in a searing kiss ...

Unbidden, a low groan slips from Charles’ throat as he remembers those heated kisses on the overlook, one thing inexorably leading to another in a heady rush of lust and longing until you were both feverishly tugging at clothes. He swallows hard, feeling himself start to stir beneath the sheets.

That was just the start of the longest, most incredible night of Charles’ life. Your romantic tour had eventually led you both back to the palace, where you scattered a trail of discarded garments across marble floors and lavish furnishings in your wake, completely consumed by your desire for one another.

You press Charles back against the door of your bedroom as soon as you stagger inside, hands roaming hungrily as you devour his mouth in a bruising kiss. Charles groans deeply, fingers tangling in your hair as he spins you both around to walk you back towards the bed ...

A warm weight suddenly drapes itself across Charles’ torso, jolting him from his reverie with a sharp intake of breath. You’re curled against his side, smiling at him with eyes still heavy-lidded from sleep. His heart kicks up a furious gallop as you scoot closer, trailing a path of featherlight kisses along his chest and shoulder.

“Good morning,” you murmur, voice still scratchy and deliciously rumpled sounding. Charles nearly swallows his tongue at the sound — not to mention the fact that he can now feel every luscious curve of your body pressed against his beneath the sheets.

“Morning,” he croaks out, throat gone instantly dry. How is it possible that you look even more beautiful than he remembers?

You laugh softly at his dazed expression as you work your way up the column of his neck, seemingly intent on covering every last inch of bare skin with those incredibly soft lips. “Sleep well?”

Charles manages a strangled noise of agreement just before you capture his mouth in a slow, smoldering kiss. He groans against your lips, looping an arm around your waist to pull you more fully on top of him. Every nerve-ending feels like it’s engulfed in flames.

When you finally break apart, you brace yourself up on your elbows, gazing down at him with bright, sparkling eyes. “Last night was incredible,” you say candidly, tracing the line of his cheekbone with a fingertip. “Thank you for such an amazing first date.”

A low rumble of laughter escapes Charles as he grins up at you, dizzy with happiness. “I should be thanking you. Last night was … just, wow.” He reaches up to tuck an errant strand of hair behind your ear, marveling at how impossibly soft your skin is. “Have I mentioned yet how breathtakingly gorgeous you are?”

Your cheeks flush prettily even as you let out an adorably bashful little giggle that has Charles bewitched. “Charles Leclerc, you beautiful charmer,” you tease, dropping your head to nuzzle against the crook of his neck. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Mmm, I have a few ideas ...” Charles murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear. He trails his fingertips up the delicate lines of your spine, reveling in the way it makes you shiver against him.

You lift your head again, pinning him with a look of pure want that steals the breath from Charles’ lungs. “Is that so?” You purr, rolling your hips ever so slightly against his in a way that has him biting back a groan.

“Oui,” he husks out, slipping a hand into your tousled hair to draw your mouth back to his. You melt against him instantly, the kiss rapidly becoming heated and desperate as you both come quickly undone.

With you pressed so tantalizingly close, Charles can feel the heat slowly building between you as he maps every inch of your body with eager hands. Your skin is so silky soft, he can scarcely believe you’re real. Last night’s passion comes roaring back in a tidal wave of desire so potent it nearly overwhelms him.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders, clinging to him like a lifeline as you finally join your bodies in a fevered rush. Charles surges up to capture your lips again, unable to get enough of your addictive taste as you move together in perfect synchronicity. Slick skin sliding, breaths mingling, every sensation is heightened and electrified as you make love with an abandon unlike anything Charles has ever experienced ...

A strangled groan tears from Charles’ chest at the memory, his grip reflexively tightening on your hips and pulling you harder against him.

You let out a soft whimper against his mouth, fingers tangling in his hair as you grind deliciously against him in response. Charles feels utterly intoxicated by you — your taste, your scent, the exquisite softness of your skin pressed so enticingly to his.

With one fluid motion, he rolls you both until he’s caging you beneath him on the luxurious sheets. You gaze up at him with eyes gone molten and dark, chests heaving in tandem. The ferocious want simmering between you is nearly tangible.

“You’re so beautiful,” Charles rasps out in reverence, brushing the backs of his fingers along the elegant curve of your jaw. He leans down to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat, feeling your rapid pulse fluttering beneath his lips. “Perfect ...”

A soft keen escapes you as you tilt your head back to allow him better access. Every nerve in Charles’ body feels electrified, like his skin is humming with unreleased energy. He’s drunk on you, body and soul.

As his lips blaze a path lower, nuzzling between the delicious swell of your breasts, your back arches sharply up off the bed with a gasp of longing. Your fingers clutch almost painfully at his shoulders as you struggle to pull him even closer.

“Charles … please,” you whimper, voice pitched low and heady with naked yearning.

He slides a hand up your silken thigh in answer, molding his palm to the flare of your hip as you shift restlessly beneath him. You’re warm and pliant and bewitching like this, coming slowly undone under his attentions.

With a ragged groan, Charles surrenders to the inescapable gravitational pull between you, fusing your mouths back together in a searing kiss that instantly turns all-consuming ...

Your nails score lines of delicious fire down his back as he drives into you with deep, powerful strokes, hips snapping together in a primal rhythm. It’s all heat and friction and tangled limbs, the world narrowing down to nothing but the places where your bodies join so intimately.

You keen out his name like a prayer, the sound sending hot shockwaves of lust ricocheting through Charles’s core. Every nerve feels simultaneously set alight and yet thrumming with a paradoxical electric chill, sensations somehow magnified tenfold.

He’ll never get enough of this feeling — of being completely consumed by you, your passion, your overwhelming desire for each other burning so bright that everything else fades away into glorious insignificance ...

A guttural groan is torn from deep in Charles’ throat as your hips roll sensuously against his in wanton invitation. His head drops into the tempting curve of your neck, lips tracing maddeningly along your overheated skin as he struggles to maintain the barest thread of control.

“Y/N,” he rumbles out, your name laced with pure, undisguised reverence. “Mon ange ...”

You cup his face in your hands, forcing his heated gaze back to yours. For a crystalline moment, everything hangs in breathless suspension before you surge up to claim his mouth in a searing, all-consuming kiss.

Like a switch being flipped, the tenuous grip Charles had on his restraint abruptly snaps. A low groan tears from his very soul as he lets the irresistible tide finally pull him under, lost in the relentless thrall of your passion.

Your urgent cries spike higher as Charles’ hips drive forward in a smooth, powerful glide, joining your bodies with exquisite friction. You clutch at him wildly, nails raking lines of delicious fire across his back as the room narrows to nothing but scorching skin and thunderous heartbeats.

At last, the spiraling tension reaches a blinding crescendo, your release crashing over you in shattering waves of pure ecstasy. Charles’ own climax follows swiftly, torn from his very depths with a hoarse shout of your name.

He collapses bonelessly on top of you, lungs heaving like he’s just run a marathon as you both simply cling to each other through the sizzling aftershocks. Sparks still seem to crackle across his nerve endings from your earth-shattering joining.

After an endless stretch of languid moments, Charles finally gathers enough strength to ease himself to the side, gathering you in against his chest. You come willingly, draping yourself over him as he nuzzles into the top of your head and just breathes you in.

“Wow ...” you murmur at last when you’ve recovered enough to speak. A breathless giggle escapes as you press a soft kiss to the hollow of his throat. “And I thought last night was incredible.”

Charles rumbles out a deep chuckle, pressing his smile against your hair as his arms tighten reflexively around you. “Last night was just the warm up, mon cœur,” he husks out, voice still gloriously ragged from your shared passion.

You pull back just enough to gaze at him through heavy-lidded eyes, cheeks delightfully flushed and hair wildly tousled in a way that has Charles’ heart clenching near to bursting. Brushing a knuckle along his jaw, you give him a look rich with teasing promise.

“Well then ... if this is what I give you for winning Monaco,” you trail off meaningfully, letting the words hang suspended as your fingertips trail down the ridges of his abdomen. “I can’t even imagine what you’ll earn when you win the World Championship.”

The low, sultry purr of your tone sends delicious little licks of heat swirling through Charles’ veins despite his delightfully sated state. A wicked grin tugs at his lips as pulls you more fully on top of him again, glorying in your lush curves molded so perfectly against his own.

“Is that a challenge, Princesse?” He rumbles out, dipping his head to nibble along the elegant column of your throat. You let out the most deliciously breathy giggle that has his blood absolutely simmering.

“Mmm, maybe,” you hum out coyly, deft fingers trailing through the short hair at his nape in a way that makes his toes curl. “Although I suppose you’ll just have to win it and find out for yourself ...”

Charles feels a possessive growl rising up from deep within his chest as he abruptly flips you both, pinning your breathless laughter beneath him on the luxurious sheets. Gazing down at you with unbridled adoration blazing in his eyes, he steals another scorching kiss that leaves you both gasping for air.

“Oh, I fully intend to,” he vows fervently, reveling in the way your eyes have gone molten and dark with renewed desire. His hands map every inch of your body with fervent devotion as he leans down to murmur hotly against the shell of your ear.

“And when I do, Princesse … I’m never letting you go.”

[darkmatilda]

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬��𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: when you were accommodated in such a shabby hotel, the last thing you needed was a power outage. and upon learning about one of your colleagues' fear of the dark, you can't bring yourself to not help him

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x newbaumember!femalereader, spencer is afraid of the dark and the reader comforts him, they comfort each other tbh, elle&morgan my fav duo, glasses reid obvi.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 4.7k

𝐚/𝐧: these are my official apologies for all the recent stories 🫶🏼 i wanted it to be so much shorter but i just love writing conversations between characters so that's how it turned out. @mggslover i'm so sorry for not adding spencer falling off the bed but i didn't want to ruin that subtle ending :(( maybe next time

"Please, I’m begging you, I’m really begging you—begging in the name of a god I don’t even believe in. Tell me we’ve got the wrong address," Morgan said, squeezing his eyes shut the moment you all crossed the threshold of the motel where you'd been assigned to stay while working on the case in another state.

You noticed Elle’s expression falter as well. From the outside, the place hadn’t looked that bad. Well, perhaps it only seemed that way because the street it was on was so dark you couldn’t make out much of anything. Midnight must have been approaching; the first day of the investigation was officially over.

“We didn’t get it wrong,” Reid declared, stepping inside as the last of you, quickly scanning the interior. “I memorized it perfectly. Besides, there aren’t any other accommodations in the area, so this has to be it.”

“Do you remember that one case,” Elle started, “where the unsub killed women in hotel rooms and decorated the interiors with their intestines?”

You glanced at her, curious—or as curious as you could be under the circumstances. You’d only joined the team fairly recently; this was your third or fourth case at most, and none of them had been quite that… gruesome. Of course, you were well aware cases like that happened. It was only a matter of time before one came your way. Unfortunately.

“This motel totally looks like the kind of place where something like that happens on a daily basis,” Elle continued. “My advice? Don’t look under the beds tonight. Or in the closets, if there even are any.”

“I just hope there’s hot water,” Derek sighed, his voice carrying a tone of resignation. “We once ended up in a place that didn’t have any. I almost handed in my resignation.”

“You deal with gruesome murders every day, but no hot water is too much for you, Princess?” you raised an eyebrow, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye as you made your way toward the reception desk to pick up your room keys. The motel’s walls were yellow—not the cheerful sunflower or sunny kind of yellow, but more like dried-up cat pee yellow.

“He’s got a point, though,” Elle chimed in, taking the key from an elderly woman at the reception desk. “Think about it. You come back after a long, grueling day, from dawn to midnight, just like today. You’re exhausted, barely standing, and you can’t even take a hot shower.”

Morgan pointed at her and nodded in agreement. You shrugged.

“Cold isn’t that bad,” you muttered. Honestly, you hadn’t expected anything luxurious from the place you’d been sent to. It was just a few days, after all.

“Oh, are you one of those people practicing that millionaire morning routine?” Derek teased. “You know—waking up at three, cold shower, steak for breakfast, daily planning, self-help book…”

I just grew up poor, you thought to yourself, but aloud you only let out a short laugh.

“I’d kill to have time to read a book before work. Any book. Not to be yanked out of bed by Hotch at five, like today, and scrambling to get out the door.”

Elle and Morgan exchanged a very brief look, almost secretive. You narrowed your eyes, suspicion suddenly welling up inside you. Before you could ask about it, someone else spoke up.

“He called me at half past six,” Reid said, tilting his head in mild confusion.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed the others silencing him with a look.

“Hey, what’s going on?” you stopped in your tracks, demanding an explanation. “He called me half an hour earlier than the rest of you?”

“You live farther away.”

“We’re practically neighbors, Elle Greenaway.”

“I’m about to drop,” Derek suddenly interjected with theatrical exhaustion. A change of subject. A not-so-subtle change of subject. “If I don’t lie down soon, I’ll fall asleep standing up. See you all tomorrow, folks.”

“You’re absolutely right—sleep well.”

With that, he and Elle headed up the stairs to the third floor, where they’d been assigned rooms. You and, as it turned out, Reid were staying on the second floor.

You turned to him slowly, arms crossed over your chest.

You didn’t even need to say anything—your stern gaze alone made it clear you were waiting for an explanation. Reid looked like he was about to throw his hands up in a defensive gesture, clearly regretting that he’d brought up the topic at all.

“Okay,” he sighed nervously. “What I’m about to say is not meant to offend you in any way, not even the slightest…”

“Offend?” you repeated, furrowing your brow. “Jesus Christ, Reid, don’t look at me like that—I’m not about to punch you in the face…”

“It’s just…” he began, a little calmer now. “All of us, including Hotch, I assume, are aware of the fact that, occasionally—just sometimes—you have a slight tendency to…run a bit late to work.”

He looked at you, and a telling silence fell between you.

"Yesterday, you were fourteen and a half minutes late."

"Fifteen minutes doesn't count as being late. And have you heard of a grace period? It's allowed to arrive within that time frame, without any consequences."

"Fine. What about two days ago, twenty-one minutes and seventeen..."

"Metro malfunction. I had no control over that."

"And six days ago, on Tuesday? Twenty-four minutes and..."

"I don’t remember such a situation, because, Mr. Big Brain, not all of us have such a memory. But I assume there was a reason..."

"Alright, fine," Reid interrupted you calmly. "I’m not saying there wasn’t a reason. But still... it happens quite often, and that's a fact. So it’s no surprise that Hotch, when the situation especially calls for it, prefers to call you a little earlier than the rest. Just out of caution."

You sighed, no longer able to argue about it. Maybe he was right; you did sometimes lose track of time in the mornings or fail to wake up to the sound of your alarm, closing your eyes for an extra five minutes... which resulted in small delays. You had never been directly reprimanded for it, so you were unaware that it had become such a big issue. Slightly embarrassed, you pressed your lips together.

"As usual, I guess you're right. And by the way, I’m heading to my room. I had thirty minutes less sleep than all of you, I’m exhausted," you said in a lighter, joking tone. A brief smile crossed Reid’s face. "Good night, wise guy.”

"Good night. And don’t look under the bed."

"Believe me, I wasn’t planning on it!"

With those words, you both disappeared into rooms directly opposite each other. The sounds of doors closing synchronized. You started your usual evening routine, placing your suitcase in the corner of the room. It was really small, narrow, and rectangular. The walls had that same awful color, the light was too bright, causing a headache. So you decided to just turn on the night lamp on the shabby nightstand next to the single bed.

It turned out that the only bathroom was in the hallway. You almost cried; you didn't want to take all your things with you and then come back with them. You remembered that you'd taken a proper shower that morning, so maybe a repeat wasn’t absolutely necessary. You were too sleepy for it, so you just set the alarm for fifteen minutes earlier to do it in the morning. After changing into comfortable clothes, you immediately lay down on the bed. Following Elle’s advice, and then Reid’s too, you didn’t check what might be hiding under it.

You weren’t hiding it, you were a terrible sleeper. Falling asleep in new places usually wasn’t a problem for you, even if it was a place that looked like a dive where someone could stab you in your sleep. But that night, something was bothering you. After giving it some thought, you realized it was Reid’s words.

Of course, it wasn’t that you held it against him. He was just stating facts; he had no intention of offending you, as he assured. And you didn’t even feel offended. More like unpleasantly confronted with a certain fact. You had only been part of the BAU for a short time. Well, just a week ago Derek stopped calling you the new girl. Although on the outside, you came across as very confident, on the inside, you were preoccupied with the team’s opinion of you and what they might think about you. Mainly because they were all older and more experienced.

You were especially worried about the fact that your tardiness and chaos had drawn the boss’s attention. Being on good terms with your superior was incredibly important, in case something ever happened, in case you made a more serious mistake…those small things could influence how the rest of your career would unfold, and the decisions made about you.

But above all, you wanted everyone to like you. Simply like you. So you wouldn’t walk around every day with your heart in your throat, praying for the day to end, constantly overwhelmed by a sense of misfit and loneliness.

You turned to your side, not sure how long you had been lying there, thinking. Suddenly, you realized you had to pee.

With great reluctance and sleepiness, you reached for the bedside lamp to turn it on and go to the bathroom. However, when you tugged at the cord, it... didn’t turn on. The room remained shrouded in darkness. You tried once more, then blindly made your way to the light switch in the room. You pressed it, and nothing.

What was going on, a power outage?

You shook your head in confusion. Whatever was going on, it didn’t change the fact that you had to go to the bathroom. You remembered the flashlight in your jacket pocket, and in the darkness, it took you a while to find it. When you finally had it in your hand, you felt ready to complete the mission. To pee, that is.

The moment you stepped out into the hallway, a light source flared up right before your eyes. You let out a muffled exclamation, partly from surprise, partly from being almost blinded.

“Damn, sorry…” Reid hissed, equally confused, turning his flashlight downward, away from your face.

You rubbed your eyelids, turning off your flashlight. Two light sources were unnecessary.

“Is there no power for you too?” you asked.

Reid nodded. It was only then that you really looked at him—he was wearing very loose pajama pants and...

“Cute,” you clicked your tongue, pointing at his white sweater with a bear wearing glasses. He had them too, worn very low on his nose. He must have put them on absentmindedly, in the dark, right after getting out of bed.

“I got it from Penelope for my birthday,” he said in a tone as if he were giving a statement. His hand briefly touched the fabric, right at the center of the brown bear’s face. “It’s really comfortable and soft. Perfect for sleeping...Anyway, I was heading to the reception to find out what the issue is and whether anything can be done about it. You too?”

"No, I just really need to pee. Do you really want to go there at this hour?" you asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise. "I mean, outages happen, and they'll have to fix it, but it's the middle of the night. We don't really need the lights right now, and if you want to go to the bathroom, you have a flashlight, as I can see."

You kept your gaze on him, realizing that since he noticed the lack of light, he must have been either heading somewhere himself or keeping the light on. Or maybe he had been sleeping with the light on. He did seem a bit tense. One of his hands was still resting on the half-open door, nervously gripping it. The other was pressed tightly to his body, his chest rising in an odd rhythm. Not a quickened pace, like with a panic attack, but more unnatural, like he was trying to control it.

"Are you afraid of the dark?" the question slipped out of you directly. After a moment, you realized it might have been a little too blunt. You had asked it carelessly, suspecting there might be another reason behind his behavior. For some reason, fear of the dark didn’t seem to fit his rational character.

Reid quickly shook his head, firmly denying it.

"No. No, of course not. I was just... reading when the light went out."

Oh, you didn’t even need to be a profiler to see right away that he was lying. You crossed your arms, a little amused by how stubbornly he was denying it.

"You were reading? At this hour? When we’re back to the investigation first thing tomorrow morning?"

He shrugged, shaking his head again.

"I couldn’t sleep."

You sighed. In the end, neither his fear nor his shame were your concern, so you didn’t see the point in interrogating him any further. You signaled that you were dropping the subject, and some expression passed across his face. Gratitude. Gratitude for not pushing the issue or mocking him. You felt a bit offended that he had even thought you might do that.

“If you still plan on going to the reception, wait for me, I’ll go with you. I just need to quickly stop by the bathroom.”

Reid opened his mouth, clearly surprised by your suggestion.

“Well, what?” you replied with a shrug. “I can’t let something eat you on the way. A demonic hand emerging from the darkness…”

“Very funny,” he commented, rolling his eyes. However, the corner of his mouth twitched, and his breathing seemed calmer.

“…The ghost of Richard Ramirez haunting the walls of this hotel. Or some other bloodthirsty maniac.“

"Didn't you really have to pee badly?"

"The team wouldn’t recover from losing you, Reid!" You threw that line over your shoulder as you walked toward the bathroom.

Of course, there was no light there either, so you had to use your flashlight. He was waiting for you, and together, in silence, you headed down the stairs toward the reception. Given how small the motel was, it wasn’t open 24/7. You had to wait a while before someone came to assist you.

“That happens sometimes,” the employee shrugged. “We’re not sure where the problem is exactly, but someone’s supposed to come check it out tomorrow…”

“Can’t anything be done about it now?” Reid asked, a trace of frustration in his voice that he was trying to mask—especially when he glanced at you from the corner of his eye. “Maybe it’s just a simple overload? Where are the fuse boxes…?”

“Reid,” you said gently, placing a hand on his elbow to draw his full attention. He turned his head toward you, surprised by the tone of your voice. You gave the employee a discreet signal that you didn’t have any further questions and he could leave.

“You’re not fixing the electricity in some rundown motel. That would just be… ridiculous.”

“I’m not talking about fixing it,” he clarified quickly, though it was clear he hadn’t let go of the idea. “But in most cases, it’s just a simple short circuit. I could just take a look—”

“—Or you could just sleep in my room.”

The words left your mouth, surprising not only him but also yourself. Yet, it wasn’t as though you regretted them or wanted to take back the offer. On the contrary, the moment you said it out loud, it felt even more fitting. When you were a little kid—like most children, probably—you’d also been afraid of the dark, and running to someone else’s room always helped. Curling up beside someone, just knowing someone was there, made all the difference.

You watched his reaction, the way he shook his head slightly from side to side, a small frown creasing his forehead.

“You’re joking, right?”

“Not at all. Come on.” You grabbed him by the wrist—the hand not holding the flashlight—and pulled him along. He moved hesitantly, but he seemed too caught off guard to plant his feet and stay put.

He stopped only when you reached the door to your room, pulling his hand free from your grasp.

"How do you even imagine this working? There's... there's only one bed in there."

"If that bothers you, grab the mattress and some bedding from your room. You’ll hardly notice the difference—those beds are unbearably uncomfortable anyway."

He lowered the flashlight slightly, letting the surrounding darkness of the hallway creep over his face. It was barely visible now, but the hesitation etched on it was unmistakable. Standing across from him, you held his gaze without saying a word, silently reinforcing the fact that you weren’t joking.

The thought of him struggling to fall asleep for the rest of the night and then suffering through another day made you feel genuinely sorry for him. Besides, even though you hadn’t known each other long, you already considered him a sort of friend. If there was anything you could do to help, you wanted to do it.

"It's no big deal, Spencer," you reassured him one last time, hoping the words would finally sink in. "Really. And if you want... we don't ever have to talk about this again. Tomorrow, or ever."

His chest rose as he drew in a deep breath.

"Th-thank you," he said at last, cautiously, as though he'd packed so many thoughts into the single word that saying it out loud was an effort.

You smiled gently and understandingly. Before stepping into the room, you briefly placed a hand on his arm.

"Oh God, that sweater really is soft..."

He let out a short laugh, perhaps releasing a bit of the embarrassment he’d been holding back. You both disappeared into your respective rooms, and you lay down in bed, waiting for him to show up. Well, the moment dragged on a little too long.

You were almost certain he’d only agreed to your suggestion to get you off his back and had no intention of actually following through. Propping yourself up on one elbow, you debated whether to go to his room and drag him over or just let it go. They say you shouldn’t force help on others. Maybe there was some truth to that.

Shortly after that thought, your door creaked open slowly. You heard it but couldn’t see much—the room was too dark, and he wasn’t using his flashlight. Perhaps he assumed you were already asleep and didn’t want to risk waking you.

Either way, he moved around your bed to lay down a pillow and blanket on the floor, skipping the effort of hauling over an entire mattress. 

"Your back is going to hurt," you remarked softly, your voice adjusting to the rhythm of the night, blending with the surrounding darkness.

You lay on your side, facing the spot where he had set up his makeshift bed. All you could see was the outline of his figure, his hands clasped loosely over his stomach, head resting on the pillow. You even caught the slight shrug of his shoulders in response to your comment.

"Actually, sleeping on the floor can have health benefits. It helps maintain a neutral spine position," he replied.

“Seriously?” you scoffed. “Do you really have to come up with a counterargument for everything I say?”

“Such a curse of mine. If you don’t like it, well, you invited me here.”

“Annoying bastard. I guess it’s too late to kick you out?” you wondered aloud, of course, rhetorically. But you quickly added, worried that he might take it seriously, “Sleep well. You and your spine.”

An amused sigh escaped him.

 “You… and your spine too.”

Well, you guessed that's enough of the chit-chat. You felt a bit disappointed, but you had brought him here for a reason. To let him sleep, not to entertain you with conversation. To your surprise, you didn’t feel sleepy, even though you had struggled with it earlier. You had been thinking about... hard to even pinpoint what, there were a few things. The little worries typical of the night, suddenly growing to some huge proportions.

You were still lying in the same position, some time had passed. Your cheek was almost touching the edge of the bed, on the same side where Reid slept. Well, actually, he wasn’t sleeping. You could see a faint, barely noticeable gleam of his open eyes. They were cast downward, trying not to stare into the empty blackness above his head.

“Have you always been afraid of the dark?” you decided to ask, with no sarcasm.

“I’m not afraid,” he replied, though he could always pretend to be asleep. But the answer came out automatically.

“Alright, brave guy.” You didn’t even scoff, you just said it calmly and accepting. Maybe later he’ll tell you, when he stops being so embarrassed about it. “So, I guess you came here to get to know me better. And you know, I think you’ve got the chance. Could you... could you tell me something? Just honestly?”

"Me?" he asked, surprised, even sitting up slightly. "I mean... sure. But what?"

You suddenly sighed, regretting even bringing up the topic. God, that was so stupid...

"Just remember, honestly. Do you think the rest of the team likes me?"

Reid was silent, a strange feeling gathered in your stomach. Instead of answering negatively, he propped himself up on both elbows, and you saw a slight movement of his head. A nod.

"Are you asking this completely seriously?"

You shrugged, not sure if he noticed, so you confirmed out loud in a slightly hoarse voice. And then, to your absolute surprise, he just laughed.

"I don’t get it," he confessed after a short moment during which you stared in silence at his silhouette. "How... how could you think it could be any different? You’re always joking with Derek and Elle, and... we get along well too, I hope..."

"You’re right. But... but that’s not what I meant, I just... ugh, seriously, I can’t explain it. Fine, you know what, never mind."

You turned onto your back, as if that would completely sever the conversation. The one you’d stupidly started. You hoped he wouldn’t mention it to anyone. Another stupid thought, after all, he wasn’t like that.

Silence again, broken only by breaths. A new sound joined them, a slight rustle of the sheets. When Reid spoke again, his voice sounded somehow higher, and you were sure he was sitting on the floor as he said it.

"It might be a little surprising, but when I was a kid, I wasn't afraid of the dark," he began, completely changing the tone of his voice. He wasn't surprised like before; it was lower, gentler, despite the topic he was addressing. "I mean, I wasn't afraid of it more than any other kid my age. That... that serious fear, the real fear, started later. I don't want to say it was when I started working for the BAU because that wouldn't be entirely true. But it was around the time I started taking everything seriously. Seeing it with my own eyes, every day."

You didn't even realize when you had turned back onto your side, just to look at him, listening to his words.

"Do you have nightmares?" you asked.

"Sometimes. Actually..." he sighed, swallowing. "All of it, the fear and the nightmares, it's like they don't exist when I'm in a place I know. A place I trust. I can sleep just fine with the lights off in my apartment, the same in a jet. Everything starts in places like this. “

There was silence from your side, and you felt a bit… touched that he decided to tell you this. No beating around the bush, no lying, and, most importantly, no overwhelming embarrassment. It was a normal topic after all; everyone has their fears.

"And you?"

"What about me?"

"Do you have nightmares?"

In the first few days after starting the job, you did. Then they stopped. That’s just how things go, you suppose.

"Not anymore," you admitted, letting out a small laugh. "But that doesn’t mean I sleep well. Now I just worry at night."

"About whether the team likes you?"

"Okay, I know it sounds childish, but it’s really been bothering me lately. They might… they might seem to like me, but deep down, they might not think that highly of me. I… I'm new, not that experienced, I’m always late, and I don’t think I’m bringing anything new to the table..."

"Of course, you’re bringing something," he interrupted you. You hadn’t noticed when, but you were both sitting up now. Your voices weren’t sleepy whispers anymore, you were having a real conversation. "Each of us brings something different, something characteristic of ourselves. That's how it works in a team. That’s why you’re here. Without you… okay, you might not know this, but since you’ve been here, these last four cases have gone much more smoothly."

"Do you really think so?" 

"Well, you asked me to be honest. Completely honest."

You've always had a bit of imposter syndrome, doubting your abilities, and approaching others' positive comments about you or your achievements with skepticism. 

Something in the way he spoke, his quick words, his engagement in them... made you believe him, somehow.

"Reid," you began, surprised to find that there was less weight in your chest, in your body. "I know, I just know, that you'll refuse, but still, I'll ask. Do you want to lie down with me?"

You didn't even know what exactly prompted the question. Caring about your back, you could answer. But was that really all it was?

For a moment, he was silent, thinking you were joking, but when it dawned on him that you weren't, he scoffed.

"Well, you were right, I'll refuse..."

"Sorry, but I doubt you'll fall asleep any other way. I was watching you, as creepy as that sounds. You were lying there with your eyes open, you were scared."

"I'm an adult man who's afraid of the dark. That's pathetic on its own, without being tucked to sleep by a coworker."

"I never mentioned anything about tucking you in."

He hesitated, embarrassed. 

"You took the least important part of my statement..."

"I took what I wanted. The rest is nonsense. Your age doesn't determine what you can or can't be afraid of. I'm a grown woman, and I'm afraid my colleagues don't like me. Which sounds more pathetic, huh? Fear of the dark or that?"

“I think it’s a point we could argue about for hours.”

“Which we don’t have. It’s late, we should go to sleep. Quick question, are you lying down with me, or are you fooling yourself into thinking you’ll fall asleep without it?”

A heavy, resigned sigh escaped him. Without adding anything else to his words, you turned onto your side, your back to him. You heard the rustling of the sheets, and for a moment, you froze, surprised. But no, he hadn’t joined you. 

You weren’t sure how you felt. Disappointed seemed like too strong a word. It wasn’t as though he had refused some incredibly important request of yours. It was just… perhaps the best explanation would be that, once you had convinced him to sleep in the same room for the sake of helping him, you wanted him to take something comforting from that night. You wanted it to be one of those good nights, like the ones he had in his apartment or in the jet, the ones he had mentioned. Not one of the others, filled with fear.

But then, the mattress beside you dipped, as someone else settled onto it.

You turned to the other side, and suddenly your faces were right across from each other. Reid swallowed, almost nervously. He seemed to be adjusting to the situation, to the sudden closeness, the small space you shared. You propped your hand under your head, observing him discreetly. It hit you that he always had a bit of an issue with contact with others. A doubt crossed your mind: had you made him uncomfortable?

Minutes passed, though, and his body seemed to sink more comfortably into the bed. His arms were no longer stiff, his hands resting freely, no longer clasped tightly across his chest. You could also hear his breath, and the more peaceful it became, the calmer you felt too.

And even though no words seemed necessary anymore, he decided to speak once again.

"Thank you."

taglist: @she-wont-miss @mggslover @kakamixo @nyeddleblog @dylanobrienswife0420 @wmoony

@heddgie @khxna @marauder-exe-old @yujyujj @charleyreid @kitty-kai @sp3ncelle @pleasantwitchgarden @beesin03 @misserabella

[moviestarmartini]

yellow flowers. — jude bellingham x gf!reader

él sabía, ella sabía y se olvidaron de sus flores amarillas.

summary: how can your relationship recover from such a serious argument the night before?

wc: 975

warnings: angst, not that much dialogue, like three words in spanish, established long-term relationship.

A/N: WHAAAAT?? GIGI POSTING TWICE IN A DAY??? its more likely than you think! thank las flores amarillas hehe.

now playing... flores amarillas from floricienta

The fight was stupid, really. 

You both had to admit it was. Even then, that doesn’t take away the fact it snowballed into issues each of you held back for what seemed ages, and only ended up with Jude slamming the door on the way out of your apartment. 

After hours of crying, your own exhaustion from the ordeal lulled you to sleep. When you rose up in the morning, neither your mind nor your body prepared for the fact it was a Saturday. 

Nor the fact everyone and their mothers were receiving yellow flowers, something you’d always craved but were always just another bystander. 

If you listened to that song again you might just rip your hair off. 

You had a whole day planned with Jude after the game, he wanted to do something special, but the fact you couldn’t hold back your jealousy the night before was more than enough to dampen the idea, whatever it was. 

For a second, you tried to put things on the positive side. A self-care day. In theory it was wonderful, but the second you sat alone in the bubbly bathtub, you broke down in tears. 

You’d been together for years. You changed your whole life around him, learning German to go to school in the same country and planning your masters in Spanish. Maybe that was part of the reason he called you spineless; you adapted to other’s needs and perspectives easier. His words bounced around your head, each reminder taunting you more. 

To top it all off, Spotify seemed to have a vendetta against you, your daylist was insanely depressing. 

“Is this because he plays for Real Madrid?!” You spoke out into the world, growing frustrated with your situation. 

That did spark an idea in your brain; or more of a reminder. 

Jude had a game today. And you weren’t going to be there to watch him. That just made you jump out of the bath, get changed into decent clothes and leave the house for once to watch him at your best friend’s house upon her request, miserably so even when the team got their footing back up— knowing you should be in the stands cheering him on. But alas, you weren’t.

And you wondered if you would ever be again. 

The moment he fell clutching his shoulder, your heart stopped. Tears welled in your eyes but you avoided letting them escape, remembering the long hours of work and recovery, the utter joy you felt when he informed both you and the team he was comfortable playing without the big chunky brace again. All that, and it crumbled down right before your eyes, like your relationship. 

Still, you didn’t hesitate on reaching for your phone, not finding any elation on the team’s victory. 

[ I know you don’t want to see or hear from me ] 

[ But how’s your shoulder? I’m seriously concerned ] 

You knew he wasn’t going to reply right away, and when your companion found out who you’d texted, she ripped the phone out of your hands and put it away for the reminder of your evening laced with white wine and take out sushi. 

“Thank you for releasing me, master.” You joked by the time she gave you the mobile back, swallowing hard upon seeing Jude hadn’t replied. 

He hadn’t even read it. 

Now you were actually panicking, swallowing down the tears in the Uber and wishing the small elevator could go fast enough that you didn’t break down somewhere that wasn’t in the comfort of your home. 

You were overwhelmed enough that you didn’t even take into account your door was unlocked when you clearly left it locked, nor the warm light coming from the tiny space under the doorframe. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Were the first words you registered before your eyes caught the indoor prairie your boyfriend had installed in your living room in the shape of yellow daisies. 

Your eyes trailed the hundreds of petals before your eyes finally fell on him, scanning from his toes up to the apologetic expression he was carrying. Now it all made sense; your friend insisted on getting you out of the house for this. He didn’t reply because of this. 

Though your heart was running at a whopping speed of thirty miles per second, your feet took you painfully slow— cautiously— towards him. You were still marveled, carefully watching where your sneakers landed to avoid stepping on the beautiful work he’d planned for you. 

“Perdón,” Jude repeated, as if the words in Spanish meant so much more than the English language. He opened his mouth for what seemed to be a rant, but the way you squeezed the life out of him with a desperate hug left him speechless, followed by your hugs. 

“I thought you— you were going to dump me and I would have to move back home and— and I can’t imagine that because I love you so much and that’s why I was scared!” You babbled between hiccups, trying to calm yourself down before his gentle hands cupping your face did the job spectacularly. 

“I would be such a fuckin’ idiot to do that.” He couldn’t help but let out a laugh, not at you nor your claims, but at how ridiculous he had been. 

“Te perdono,” You sniffled, your bottom lip still puckered up ever so slightly. 

“But what’s all this?” You turned to look at the scene, something straight out of a Van Gogh painting. 

“You thought I forgot with the thousand TikToks you sent me on this day?” He leaned in to kiss your forehead before pulling you into another warm hug. 

“I also watch Gilmore Girls whenever you do. Whoops.” 

Your laugh echoed as you snuggled closer to him in your upright position, being extremely thankful the last sentence of the song wasn’t your reality.

A/N: if y'all seriously thought it wasn't going to have a happy ending you clearly don't know me well enough rip

[luvwestwood]

"Give Me Five" - Choso Kamo

4,591 words.

₊˚༊*·˚ warnings. nsfw (18+), ice-hockey player! choso, bestfriend's brother trope, p in v, resolved sexual tensions, foreplay, fingering, titty sucking, choso fucks you in his jersey, orgasm denial, praising, hair pulling, rough play, nsfw links (underlined), spitting kink, mirror play, feral choso

₊˚༊*·˚ notes. I absolutely enjoyed making this special request for @moonriseoverkyoto! thank you all so much for 700 followers ^^ included a link for you lovelies as a gift, hehe I hope to send more work your way soon :) thank you for the love and support this whole month!

rightful art credits to @/kmskc_f, @/yume041624, @/elcheggen, @/uoru1_juju (all on twt)!

(russian translation) - creds to @juliabelll 🩷

Goosebumps formed all over your skin as you were met with the coldness of the rink. Bits of regret filled you for being stubborn this morning, choosing to not wear extra layers. Squinting, you look around to find a close friend of yours, not too far a figure jumping up and down catches your eye.

"Hey! Over here- I'm here!" Yuji called to you in his typical, chirpy voice. Multiple heads turned to the sudden commotion, followed by another look to your direction. Embarrassed, you facepalm; whispering quiet apologies to others as you squeeze past the row of seats, making your way over.

"Yuji!- I got caught in traffic. Did I miss anything?" You fold down the seat next to him, the excited Yuji passing you another one of those generic team jerseys that he also had on. You take a good look at it before putting the garment over your head, the team colours being black and yellow.

Beside you, the boy rummages through a large plastic bag of popcorn. "Mmph- No- My brother would be happy if he knew- You were here." His eyes were wide open and alert, observing the game like a hawk.

"..Ah, it's nothing. If I didn't go, I would have been rotting at home." You giggled, knowing the real answer. As soon as Yuji sent the text, 'wanna go to my brother's game next weekend?'. You had to go. You've been dying to go. Ever since you met Choso for the first time, you made good use of every opportunity you had to see him.

He had an unforgettable face, and a dreamy body you'd sometimes, and shamelessly catch a glimpse of from time to time. But you were doubting, and unsure if the feeling was mutual. The man was busy, which drove you to think he had no time for a woman in his life.

You fixate your head to the rink in front of you. Of course, you got a hold of the best seats. Yuji being the brother of a world renowned hockey player had it’s benefits.

The same bag of popcorn lands firmly onto your lap, Yuji reaching for the soda cup underneath his foot. "Hmm, he looks pissed though. I think I know why." He leans back, index finger scratching at his head.

You furrow your brows, taking several glances around the ice. A familiar back faced you, 'Kamo' and '12' plastered onto the behind of his jersey. Dark hair effortlessly left down, not too much going on. A couple loose strands falling onto his face, Choso looked like a dream. Yuji beside you shrieks for his name, cheering his brother on.

Choso spins around, glaring at the audience. He was outraged, and you weren't sure why. He didn't dare smile, or wave. Yuji grunts at his brothers reaction, smile fading and slouching back down onto the seat.

"..Oh, I get what you mean now." It was undeniable that Choso was a different person behind his helmet, and that he took the sport seriously. He always wanted to make everyone proud. As one of the best players on his team, everyone counted on him, so there was a generous amount of pressure on his shoulders.

The screeching blow of a whistle shrills throughout the arena for half time, Choso violently shoving his hockey stick onto the ice. Plenty of teammates approach him, others choose to not get involved. Either way, he shoves past them. Everyone around you seemed confused, wondering what made him so agitated. You watched as he cursed to his higher-ups, hands strongly gripping onto the side wall.

"Every day, I fucking hate this sport more and more." Choso speaks through gritted teeth, angrily ripping off his helmet. "Piece of shit."

The staff team stands aside, ushering him out of the rink. His coach guides him over to the side bench, crouching down to give him a typical, motivational chat. Choso only puts his head down and into his gloved hands, becoming more and more annoyed by the second.

"Kamo- you know what? Bring your ass back to the locker room and give yourself five." Not knowing what to do, his coach decides it was best for him to blow off some steam. Not letting out another word, he storms off back into the locker rooms, the crowds groaning as he does so; the privacy invading camera focusing on him.

Chatter filled the air between the crowds around you. “..What happened to him? Your brother just stormed off.” You turn to Yuji, confused and filled with millions of questions.

"No clue, but I'm still a bit hungry." Yuji sighs, looking at the now empty plastic bag of popcorn. He takes a sip of what's left in his soda cup.

"..What? You are?" You look through your purse for some money. More than enough, that's for sure. A wrinkled twenty bill was tucked away inside. "Here- I'll go and get you something. It's on me."

You could've sworn that you had seen happiness twinkle in his eyes. This boy certainly loves to eat. "..Really?" He smiles, in response you nod your head up and down.

"Yeah! Just give me five, I'll be back as soon as possible." You warmly confirm the offer and he nods, shortly before you had to endure the entire process squeezing your way back out of the row.

You walk off into the tunnel leading to the outside of the arena. So many halls, and I’m not even familiar with this place. The two minute stroll led you to nowhere anyways, resulting in you doubting yourself. “…Where’s the food court?” You pout, coming to the conclusion you had probably been walking in circles this whole time.

The next long corridor you were met with was filled with doors everywhere. Loads of them. “..Ah.. have I been here before?”

Walking past each door, you look around for anybody nearby who was able to provide some sort of guidance. Hopeless, there was no one at all. Until one door you had walked past was slightly open, the light on. Maybe someone was in there? You genuinely just wanted to get your hot dogs.

You retrace your steps backwards, the faint sound of two voices coming from the room. Curious, you peeked your head through the slight gap.

"I don't think I did my best out there." It was Choso, elbows on knees on a padded seat. Heaving heavily, pulling the last strings of himself together. His coach with arms crossed in front of him. The conversation was hard to make out, but you were still able to put together some bits of it.

Clutching tightly onto your necklace, you couldn't help but feel concerned. Choso adored this sport with his entire heart, but so much he didn't have time to do anything else. Yuji always talked about how distant he could be when preparing for the new season.

The cursing stops, and before you know it, the door in front of you was wide open; framing you to look like an absolute snoop. You howl, instantly stepping back from the door frame. The same coach stood in front of you, an appalling look on his face. "Who the hell are you?! A money hungry reporter? Guards!-"

You nervously laugh, "Oh- No, no- I'm not a-", endless words were coming out of your mouth in a complete babble.

"..I know her." Choso who was watching everything unfold, tilted his head to the side, looking to see who was at the door.

The coach looks at you with an unamused expression, giving Choso a double look. His voice grows low, speaking in a discreet manner. "How about you talk it out with him. He needs it." He says before walking away from the frame, giving you a stare down as he does so.

Dumbfounded, a string of words only come out in a disoriented patter, "..I was just, looking for the.. concession stand.."

Choso on the other hand, keeps quiet. Blankly staring at the carpeted floor. His gloves and skates were off, but his jersey still on. You gulp, considering if you should speak anymore; scared that you'll only tick him off further.

Your hands rested in each of your palms, unsure whether you should step inside. "..I'm here with your brother, actually- cause he invited me to-"

"I know. I wanted you to come. I invited you, I told him to ask you." Choso speaks lowly, his tone different from when he was talking to the coach. He lets out a labored sigh, mumbling. "..Only for me to play like absolute shit,"

Processing what he had just said, it still changed your entire perspective. You didn't know how to think of it though, so you simply looked over it.

Deciding to approach him rather than standing at the door like some stranger, you close the door behind you. Recalling the coach talking about 'money hungry reporters', you didn't want to take any chances. "..I don't mean to pry, but do you want to talk about.. this?" Sitting down on the free seat beside Choso, you were careful with your choice of words. You didn't want to dig the hole any deeper. Making yourself comfortable, you set your bag away to the side and faced him.

Choso's voice was more soft, and it wasn't as stern to when he was talking to his coach. "..I just don't approve of how I'm performing lately."

Personally, you didn't know much about ice hockey. Nor did you store any valuable advice for it in your brain. It pained you to think that if you were to give him advice, you'd sound like a typical high school guidance counselor.

"Oh, well um.." You purse your lips, trying to come up with something to say. "Is it because you're.. stressed?" Still unsure of what to do, your hand slowly makes its way onto the flat of his back; slowly rubbing shapes all over to comfort him.

"Probably." Although his voice was now mellow, Choso's replies were becoming short and quick. You were afraid that this talking out was of no use to him.

Your hand stops its movements, "..Should you do something about it? Like let it out?", Choso lifts his head up, turning to you. A gulp forces down your throat at how intense he was eyeing you, your own eyes unable to hold contact.

Choso blinks, head turning away once again to rest his chin on his palm. "..I don't know how." That was his problem, Choso wasn't good at letting out his emotions. He usually bottled them up, and solved his personal problems on his own— you could almost refer to him as a stoic being.

Clearing your throat, you bite your lower lip to try and think of something. You gave him the advice, but you didn't know the method yourself. This is why I could never be a therapist.

You mentally curse at yourself, trying to come up with a suggestion that isn't so cheesy like, do what you love to do!

"..I don't know either.. Me- I guess?" A worried expression washes over your face, a mazed Choso turning his head to you for the second time.

A perplexed, questioning noise came stirred up in him. "Huh? What do you mean?"

Eyes fluttering, you were unable to provide him with another answer. What did you mean by, 'me'? Was it just another one of those moments where you let your mouth speak before you think? "..You could let it out.. on me?"

Chosos demeanor had altered, his chin peeling away from the warmth of his palm. His body sat upright as he looked at you, his lips slightly parted. You couldn't tell if he was mortified or enthralled; and you were almost begging for him to say something.

He closes his mouth and swallows some spit to nourish his dried out throat, before standing up in front of you. You feel as if your beating heart were to take over your entire body and head any second now. A lingering tension in the air so thick— not even a lumberjack could saw through it.

Choso's eyes surveying you from top to bottom, studying the features on your face— his thumb swipes across your cheek in a tender, reassuring matter. He was grateful of your offer, but he just couldn't bring himself to directly accept it.

Choso's hand slowly moves down your face, the tip of his thumb gently pressing down on your lower lip. "..You look good in our jersey," His thumb forces the rest of its way into your mouth, "..but even better if it was my own." Was this a code phrase for, 'I need to fuck you, and I need to fuck you now?' His thoughts drifted off to filthy things—like imagining himself rutting into you in his own, bespoke jersey, 'Kamo' in a dirty gold written on your back as you take him whole like a good girl.

Your breath hitches, his finger gliding over the surface of your tongue before he decides to pull it back out. Choso starts to take off the gear on his upper half, both the body pads and jersey.

It was difficult enough to keep your eyes off the now, half naked Choso in front of you. His body muscular and perfectly carved from all of the work he's been putting in for preparation, Choso was more than pleasing to look at. He tosses his jersey and gear beside you, his hands grabbing onto the flesh of your waist.

Lifting you from the seat, you wrap your legs around his torso, lips desperately locking onto each other as he switched positions. The two of you now sitting back down on the seat.

Short mewls and gasps for air leave your mouth as you started to pull your top over your head; Choso's hands roaming all over the surface of your ass. Your hands travel down his chest, your finger tips tracing over his abs painfully slow. Tongues tangling, Choso swallowing any moan he could get from you, especially after the distressingly slow period of yearning for one another. It felt like a reward.

Being the skilled man he is, his fingertips undo the clasp of your bra effortlessly. Groaning in satisfaction, eyes closed and sucking; a free hand fondling with the other.

You claw your fingers through his hair, quietly moaning as he hungrily latched onto your nipple. Arching against his bare skin, you ached to keep him close, and possibly closer. Amidst the sucking, Choso reaches for his jersey beside him, gesturing you to put it over your head. He fulfilled his wish. You proudly raise your arms up, feeling the fabric graze against your skin. It was quite massive on you, hence himself being twice your size.

Impatient, your curious hands wander off to the waistband of his pants; his safety gear already being off had made it easier. Reaching down and past his skin tight shorts, a thought evoking in you causing your hand to withdraw.

"..W-wait," You pant, "What about everyone out there?" You couldn't help but worry about those outside who would start to get suspicious. You knew how much this mattered to him.

Choso rolls his eyes. "I don't really care, they're assholes anyway. Let them wait." His lips only make its way back onto the skin of your neck, warm breath fanning down your sternum. He didn't care if everyone else were to wait outside. He had been waiting for this moment, dreaming about it - and would do anything to not miss it.

Using two hands, you possessively grab onto his jaw to keep him closer, Choso's hands cheekily moving up inside the jersey and cupping onto both of your tits. He really loves them, doesn't he?

Pulling away for another breath your lips miss his already. You hop off his lap, hastily unbuttoning and kicking off your jeans. They fly away to the other side of the locker room, Choso pulling you back into his embarace. But this time, you were facing the other way.

His fingers tug onto the hem of your panties, pulling them back until they snapped against your skin; the stinging sound echoing throughout the room.

You intently watch yourself in the full length mirror across from you two, Choso using his hands to guide your legs open; his head falling onto the crook of your neck.

Choso's hand slowly made its way down to the your panties, his fingertips moving the fabric to the side. Toying with your folds, taking his sweet time. His delicate, addicting touch giving you shivers all over. You close your eyes to indulge in the ecstasy of this moment; scolding yourself for not doing this with him any sooner.

His same fingertips circle your clit, the speed of his movements fluctuating; which resulted in you grabbing onto his bicep, your body sinking down into his lap. Choso watches you break into pieces under his touch, how you repeatedly tap on his arm- asking for leniency.

Choso leans down to your ear, his throaty voice almost sounding like he's purring. “Just relax for me, I can feel you’re too tensed up.” Wasn’t it supposed to be me who gives him advice? Why is it that the roles have reversed?

The back of your head presses deeply into his chest, Choso bringing retrieving fingers give them a generous suck before pushing them into you. His fingers curl up inside, working them in a motion that emits a squelching noise.

“C-Choso, it’s too much- please,” A whimper crawls out of your throat, the man above you cooing and hushing you.

Your hair raising pleas being the catalyst for him only wanting to do more than he already is. His middle finger taps and teases and your bundle of nerves, his strength making your tug on his wrist pointless. “..Shh, you don’t want them to hear, do you?”

You frantically shake your head from side to side, Choso grinning against the top of your head as he had you wrapped around his finger. Cock straining against his shorts, he would take a photo to make this memory last.

His gestures come to a halt and you whine, Choso had forbidden you from orgasming. "Choso!" You hiss as he glues his hands to your hips, twirling you around against the seat.

Mindfully pressing onto the flat of your lower back, he bends you forward; in need of support, your hands reached for the wooden slabs that divided the seats. His strong hands rip your underwear into fragments off your body, Choso sneering at you nagging him.

His actions in no rush, the same hands that were cupping your pussy now feeling down your back, Choso sheepishly grinning at this fresh new view, a degree of gratification fills him for the hundredth time at the sight of 'Kamo' and '12' plastered on your back.

You reach behind you, barely tapping your fingers on Choso's pelvis to grab his attention. He leans down to hear what you had to say, the imprint of his cock imprisoned by his shorts pressed against your bare pussy.

“..Let it all out, I promise I’ll be okay.” Your hand snaked behind his head, fingers combing through his hair one last time. His body heat glossed over your behind, a position so intimate.“Just tell me if I’m hurting you, alright?”

Nodding in approval, Choso withdraws into his old position. Grabbing for his girthy cock out of his shorts, he groans as he jerks it ever so slightly. Forming an orb of spit on his tongue, letting it fall directly onto his length. He doesn't waste anymore time to slide it in, the objective of not hurting you still at the back of his mind.

You let out a long, awaited whimper that broke out into a pained sniffle, his entire length stretching you out. Your anchoring onto the wooden panels only grew stronger, Choso stilling in you for a few moments. The two of you create a symphony of guilty satisfaction, Choso himself unable to process that you let him inside of you; luckiest man in the world, he thought.

His grip on the plush of your waist transition into a soothing massage, “..Are you okay?” Concerned, he regards your strained noises.

Tears well up in your eyes, Choso rubbing his hands up and down your back. “..I-I’m fine.” You replied, managing to form some words. Even though it hurts, you didn't want him to stop. You wanted this as much as he did. He inhales deeply, grunting as his hips stroked into you slow and deep. He took you in like a work of art, savoring every minute, second with you.

“Fuck, Choso- just go faster will you? I know you want to.” You choke out, words dying in your throat. Choso obeying the green llight, you felt him grab and twist onto the fabric of the jersey behind you, his hips snapping into you at a faster pace.

A cacophony of skin slapping and moaning echoed throughout the room, Choso brings his hand down to toy with your clit; heightening your stimulation. Your entire body jolting with each of his thrusts, his little praises like 'good girl', and 'you're taking me so well' making your sex pool like mad.

Broken and choppy curses slip past your wet llips, Choso letting go of the jersey and fixing his grip on your scalp, pulling your head back towards him.

His hand sneaks underneath your chin, forcing you to maintain eye contact as you furrow your brows up at him. Your mouth stays wide open, moans no longer heard coming out from it. "Look at me baby," lids shut at the colossal pleasure, Choso needs not to repeat himself; but he does. "I said, look at me," Hauling your eyelids up, a vision of Choso glaring down at you from above— he wasn't the same person as the one half an hour ago.

Choso drops yet another ball of spit into your mouth, patting on the bottom of your chin telling you to shut and swallow, letting out a throaty sound in approval.

Clawing his fingers back into your scalp, he pushes your head back down. His leg lands onto the seat beside you, his thrusts brutally drilling into you deeper than before; Choso definitely rearranging your guts. You let him use you, so he did exactly that. Hell- if you two had a bed, just make sure you have enough saved for a new one the next day.

Makeup was unfortunately ruined from tears and spit, your hair no longer in perfect style from all the grabbing. His heavy balls relentlessly slapped against your clit, Choso huffing quietly.

He takes a hold of your two wrists, prying you from the comfort of the seat and commanding you to stand. Hypnotised, you watched everything unfold; Choso still holding onto your arms behind you as he continued to rut into your hole like a mad man.

Your cheeks were stained with tears, all sorts of unimaginable feelings stirring in the pool of your stomach; Choso already grows bored of the position. He swiftly lides you off his cock, turning you around for the fifth time today so he could see your beautiful face one more time.

Unsure of what was to happen next, you tiringly wrap both of your hands around his neck as he cupped onto the surface of your ass, lifting you up and sinking you down onto his cock. Your head rests against his chest in exhaustion, Choso’s anchored grip slowly loosening, choosing to move into the inside of your legs. Short paced breaths and eyes shutting at the new sensation of him fucking up into you. It was light work to him, carrying you was no problem at all.

Pushing both of you against a nearby wall, your back almost slid up and down the cold panels as Choso grew feral, his cock bullying but thoughtfully kissing your cervix at this unforgiving pace.

You fail to keep your eyes open, body taken over by bliss as he bottoms into you, convinced you had lost your voice. Choso could feel your silky juices move down his shaft, walls constantly clenching around around him.

“Don’t you dare close those eyes,” Choso orders, your hands hysterically tapping onto his shoulders to let him know you were going to snap. Your face winced in pain, you knew that you were going to have a hard time walking for the next week or two.

“..C-Choso,” you choke out, a threshold about to be met as the unfamiliar coil in your stomach urges to let loose.

His thrusts deepening to push you over the edge, cock sloppily moving in and out of your hole; his entire length coated with you.

“Just let it out— let it out.” he desperately whimpered, your mouth forming an ‘o’. His words like a spell, something that will haunt you for days coming. Choso’s eyes faux-sympathetically looking into yours that were blinking like mad as he felt your legs shiver in his grasp.

You shatter and cry at the orgasm that washed over you, bringing yourself to look at his cock withdrawing from your puffy, used cunt. Choso's jaw clenched, beads of white endlessly form at his tip, his balls twitching at the same time your gummy walls pulsed and throbbed around him.

He doesn’t let go of you, bodies still overheating and glistening from sweat. Instead he carries you back to the seats, sitting you down like a fragile porcelain doll. “My legs,” your voice raspy from the endless moaning, “..they’re so sore.”

Choso leans in for a meaningful kiss, your cock-dazed smile forming against his lips. His hands kneading your thighs. The locker room smelled of filthy, sinful sex—but that will just air out in no time. “..You need me to walk you out?”

“Choso, you can’t. There are cameras everywhere.” You grab your purse off the ground, in search of your phone. Almost forty five minutes have passed, your eyes widening. “Huh?! How long have I been gone for?"

He attempts to wipe the stained carpets, a faint white still engraved. Atleast he tried. “Pussy too good I forgot where I was, I’m not gonna lie.”

“Not funny, Choso. I need to get back to your brother!” Scurrying around the room, you pick your jeans off the ground, Choso whistling behind you causing you to turn your head,

“..Guess these aren’t of use to you anymore?” He holds the fragments of your panties up, torn to pieces, the dismaying mempry angering you as you were reminded of it for the second time.

You snap at him, Choso not taking any inch of you seriously. I mean, he literally had you whimpering, fucked you in his jersey and melting under his touch less than five minutes ago. “You fucking owe me a new pair.”

“I’ll buy you a hundred.”

You hurry out into the lobby, looking around for Yuji. Not having time to fix your hair, you almost scream as you walked past a reflection of yourself, mortified at how you looked. It’s okay… he wouldn’t suspect anything, right?

A familiar coral haired person was lounging at the sofas down the end, of course that had to be him. “Y-Yuji? is that you?” The head turning to your direction, it definitely was him; his eyes were shocked to still see you alive and standing before him.

You sit on the free armchair beside him, “..I’m so sorry, something just.. happened.” Nervously smiling, you wipe the residues of dried spit off your chin, your head stuck in one direction to avoid looking at Yuji in the face. Airing yourself with an invisible fan, you look away in all sorts of directions.

“It’s cool, the game got cancelled anyways- and I got my hotdogs.” He points to the four empty wrappers on the table in front of him. Yuji leans back against the sofa.

“..Uh— ..Is that, Choso's jersey?"

Fuck.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24 all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts! it means the world to me, ily guys sm!!🎀🩷

[luvwestwood masterlist]

[kiesbrainjuice]

— HOW THEY WOULD BE AT YOUR FIRST MATCH AS HIS GIRLFRIEND ! nekoma

pairings (separate) : kenma x fem!reader; kuroo x fem!reader; yamamoto x fem!reader

warnings : none, pure fluff

synopsis : with their team they assist to one of your match for the first time as your boyfriend and how they act.

word count : 1.4k

As……sat with the rest of the Nekoma volleyball team, observing your match together for the first time as a couple, the gymnasium was alive with the energy of competition. The squeaking of shoes on the polished floor, the sharp smacks of palm against volleyball, and the thunderous cheers from the crowd created an electric atmosphere. Each member of the team had their own distinct reactions and interactions, adding depth and commentary to the scene unfolding on the court.

KOZUME KENMA

Kenma, with his usual composed demeanor and sharp focus, was sitting attentively, his cat-like yellow eyes fixed on you as you moved across the court with agility and skill. His fingers twitched slightly, as if itching to set a ball himself. Beside him, Kuroo Tetsurou, Nekoma's charismatic captain and Kenma's closest friend, couldn't resist teasing him.

"Hey, Kenma," Kuroo whispered teasingly, nudging him lightly with an elbow. "Looks like you've got yourself quite the talented girlfriend there. Bet she could kick your ass on the court, huh?"

Kenma glanced at Kuroo, a faint blush tinting his cheeks, though his expression remained calm. "Shut up, asshole," he replied softly, a hint of pride in his voice as he watched you execute a perfect receive.

On Kenma's other side, Yamamoto Taro, the enthusiastic and lively wing spiker, leaned forward eagerly, nearly falling off his seat in excitement. His mohawk seemed to quiver with each point you scored.

"Holy shit, did you see that spike?" Yamamoto exclaimed, his voice carrying a mix of admiration and excitement. "Your girl's a fucking beast out there, Kenma!"

Lev Haiba, the towering middle blocker known for his straightforward nature, nodded enthusiastically, his long legs bouncing with pent-up energy. "Damn straight! I wish I could spike like her," he remarked, his admiration evident as he watched your every move with awe. "Maybe she could teach me a thing or two, eh Kenma?"

Yaku Morisuke, the meticulous libero with a keen eye for detail, observed with a nod of approval. His sharp eyes followed your movements, analyzing your technique with professional interest.

"Her defensive plays are solid as fuck," Yaku noted, his voice quiet yet filled with appreciation for your technique and strategy. "She's got some serious skills, no wonder Kenma's into her."

Inuoka Sou, the energetic and enthusiastic wing spiker who often wore his heart on his sleeve, leaned towards Lev with a mischievous grin. His spiky hair seemed to bristle with excitement as he watched the match.

"Hey Lev, think she'd mind dating a guy who's always this hyper?" he joked, earning a playful shove from Lev in response. "Or is she more into the quiet, brooding type like our Kenma here?"

Kenma, who was usually more focused on strategy and analysis, found himself enjoying the banter and camaraderie of his teammates. Despite his reserved nature, he appreciated the playful teasing and supportive atmosphere they created around him. However, as the match progressed and the comments became more frequent, he started to feel a bit overwhelmed.

Kuroo, noticing Kenma's growing discomfort, couldn't help but push a little further. "Come on, Kenma, spill the beans. How'd a gaming nerd like you land such a hottie?"

That struck a nerve with Kenma, who was feeling a bit more sensitive than usual. His fingers clenched tightly around the edge of his seat, knuckles turning white.

"For fuck's sake, Kuroo, can you lay off?" he muttered, his tone sharper than intended. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes briefly narrowing as he refocused on the match, trying to ignore the heat rising in his cheeks.

Yamamoto, sensing Kenma's discomfort, quickly changed the subject, trying to lighten the mood. His voice boomed across their section of the bleachers, drawing curious glances from nearby spectators.

"Holy crap, look at that save!" he exclaimed, clapping enthusiastically. "[Name] really knows how to keep us on our toes. She's got reflexes like a damn cat!"

Lev, noticing Kenma's reaction, exchanged a concerned glance with Inuoka. His usual carefree expression sobered as he realized they might have taken the teasing too far.

"Hey, Kenma, sorry if we're being assholes," Lev said sincerely, his usual straightforward demeanor softened. "We're just stoked for you, you know?"

Kenma glanced at Lev, his expression softening slightly. The tension in his shoulders eased a bit as he realized his teammates' intentions were good, even if their execution was lacking.

"It's fine," he replied quietly, his tone more resigned now. "Just… dial it back a notch, okay?"

Yaku, ever perceptive, decided to steer the conversation back to the game. He leaned forward, his eyes never leaving the court as he spoke.

"Alright, you bunch of idiots, let's focus on supporting [Name]," he suggested calmly, his voice a reassuring presence amidst the playful banter. "Save the relationship gossip for later, yeah?"

As the match continued, Kenma gradually eased back into his usual focused state, his mind analyzing the game and your strategic plays. He appreciated his teammates' support and their willingness to lift his spirits, even when their teasing occasionally rubbed him the wrong way.

Throughout the rest of the match, the gymnasium echoed with cheers and encouragement from the Nekoma team. Kuroo's strategic insights, Yamamoto's enthusiastic shouts, Lev's amazed gasps, Yaku's approving nods, and Inuoka's excited commentary all blended together, creating a symphony of support for you on the court.

Kenma found himself swept up in the excitement, his usual reserved demeanor giving way to small smiles and quiet words of encouragement. He realized that despite their occasional teasing and crude language, he was lucky to have teammates who cared about him and respected his feelings, making the experience of being your boyfriend and a member of the Nekoma team all the more meaningful.

As the final whistle blew and you emerged victorious, Kenma felt a surge of pride. He stood up with the rest of his team, ready to congratulate you on your win, grateful for the unique and boisterous family he had found in Nekoma.

TESTURO KUROO

Amidst this chaos, Kuroo Tetsurou sat with his team, his sharp hazel eyes fixed on the court where you were playing. It was the first time he was watching you compete since you'd started dating, and the usually composed captain found himself on the edge of his seat.

Kuroo's wild black hair seemed even more disheveled than usual, a testament to the number of times he'd run his hands through it in excitement. His trademark smirk played on his lips, widening every time you made a particularly impressive play. The red jersey of Nekoma stretched across his broad shoulders as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.

Beside him, Kenma Kozume sat hunched over his handheld game, the blue light illuminating his face. Despite his apparent disinterest, Kenma's cat-like eyes flicked up to the court periodically. During a lull in the game, he nudged Kuroo with his elbow.

"Your girlfriend's not half bad," Kenma muttered, thumbs still working the controls of his game. "Maybe she could teach you a thing or two about receiving."

Kuroo's grin widened, revealing teeth that glinted in the gymnasium's harsh lighting. "Oya? Sounds like someone's jealous. Don't worry, Kenma, you're still my favorite setter. No one sets a ball quite like you do."

Yamamoto Taketora, sitting on Kuroo's other side, was a stark contrast to Kenma's calm. The wing spiker was practically vibrating with excitement, his mohawk quivering with each enthusiastic movement. He leaned forward so far he was almost falling off his seat, eyes wide as saucers.

"Holy shit, Kuroo!" Yamamoto bellowed, his voice carrying over the crowd noise. "Did you see that spike? Your girl's a fucking monster! She just blew past their blockers like they were standing still!"

Kuroo chuckled, a deep, rich sound that rumbled in his chest. "Language, Yamamoto," he admonished without any real heat. "But yeah, she's pretty incredible, isn't she?" Pride colored his voice, his eyes softening as they followed your movements on the court.

Lev Haiba, all 194 centimeters of him folded awkwardly into the spectator seats, craned his neck to see over the heads in front of him. His green eyes were wide with wonder, a childlike enthusiasm painted across his features.

"Kuroo-san," Lev called out, voice filled with awe, "do you think she'd teach me how to spike like that? It was so cool! The ball just went 'whoosh' and then 'bam'!"

"In your dreams, string bean," Kuroo laughed, reaching over to ruffle Lev's silver hair. "You've got a long way to go before you're on her level. Maybe focus on receiving first, eh?"

Yaku Morisuke, the team's libero, sat with his arms crossed, a look of professional appreciation on his face. His sharp eyes hadn't left the court once, analyzing every move and play.

"Her receives are solid as fuck," Yaku commented, nodding approvingly. "She's got quick reflexes and good form. No wonder she caught your eye, Kuroo. You always did have a thing for skilled players."

"What can I say?" Kuroo shrugged, his casual tone belying the warmth in his eyes as he watched you seamlessly transition from defense to offense. "I've got excellent taste. In volleyball and in partners."

Inuoka Sou, unable to contain his excitement, was practically bouncing in his seat. His spiky hair seemed to stand even more on end as he turned to Kuroo, eyes shining with curiosity.

"Man, Kuroo-san, how'd you score such a badass girlfriend?" Inuoka asked, voice filled with a mixture of awe and mischief. "Did you use some of that sneaky captain charm? Or was it the hair?"

Kuroo raised an eyebrow, his smirk turning decidedly mischievous. The gymnasium lights caught the angles of his face, accentuating his sharp features. "Now, now, Inuoka. A gentleman never kisses and tells. But let's just say my killer looks and sparkling personality didn't hurt. Plus, I can be pretty persuasive when I want to be."

The team erupted in a mixture of groans and laughter. Even Kenma looked up from his game, rolling his eyes but unable to completely hide the small smile tugging at his lips.

"Your head's getting too big, Kuro," Kenma muttered, using the childhood nickname that only he was allowed to use. "It'll affect your jump serves. You won't be able to get off the ground."

"Aw, don't be like that, Kenma," Kuroo grinned, draping a long arm around his friend's shoulders and pulling him close despite Kenma's half-hearted protests. "You know you love me. Who else would set for you during our late-night practices?"

As the match progressed, the team's commentary became more animated. Kuroo found himself caught between watching you play and managing his rambunctious teammates, his captain instincts kicking in even off the court.

"Oi, Lev!" Kuroo barked, noticing the first-year's wandering attention. "Stop drooling and pay attention to her footwork. You might actually learn something useful for once."

Lev straightened up so quickly he almost toppled backwards, eyes wide. "Yes, Kuroo-san! I'll watch carefully!"

Yamamoto, never one to miss an opportunity for mischief, leaned in with a sly grin on his face. "So, captain," he drawled, waggling his eyebrows suggestively, "when are you gonna show us some of those moves off the court? You must have some pretty smooth lines to land a girl like that."

Kuroo's eyes narrowed playfully, a dangerous glint in them that made Yamamoto gulp. "Careful, Yamamoto. Don't make me assign you extra diving drills at practice. I'm sure Yaku would be more than happy to spike for you."

"Shit, sorry!" Yamamoto backpedaled quickly, hands up in surrender. "Just curious, you know? No harm meant!"

Yaku snorted from his seat, a smirk playing on his lips. "As if Kuroo needs any encouragement to show off. He's got an ego the size of Tokyo Tower."

"You wound me, Yaku," Kuroo placed a hand over his heart in mock hurt, his expression one of exaggerated pain. "I'm the very picture of modesty. A paragon of humility. A beacon of-"

"Bullshit," Kenma interrupted, not looking up from his game.

This elicited a chorus of disbelieving snorts and chuckles from the team. Even Kuroo couldn't keep a straight face, his laugh joining the others.

As the match neared its end, the energy in the gymnasium reached a fever pitch. The score was close, and every point was crucial. Kuroo found himself on his feet, previous cool demeanor forgotten as he shouted encouragement.

"Come on, babe! Show 'em what you've got!" he yelled, voice hoarse from cheering. His fists were clenched at his sides, body tense as if he could will you to victory through sheer force of will. "You've got this! One more point!"

When the final whistle blew, signaling your team's victory, Kuroo let out a whoop of joy that was nearly drowned out by the roar of the crowd. He turned to his team, grinning from ear to ear, pride and excitement radiating from every pore.

"That's my girl," he said, voice filled with a intoxicating mixture of pride, admiration, and a hint of playful challenge. "Think any of you can top that performance? Because that, gentlemen, is what we're aiming for."

Lev, ever eager to prove himself, jumped up so quickly he knocked Inuoka's drink over. "I'll train hard, Kuroo-san! I'll be just as amazing someday! Maybe even better!"

"That's the spirit, rookie," Kuroo laughed, slinging an arm around Lev's shoulders. Despite the height difference, Kuroo managed to make the gesture look effortlessly cool. "But for now, let's go congratulate the real star of the show. And remember, best behavior, cats. We're representing Nekoma."

As they made their way down to the court, pushing through the crowds of spectators, Kuroo felt a surge of affection - for you, for his sometimes annoying but always entertaining team, for this crazy, volleyball-filled life he led. He might give them hell during practice, but moments like these reminded him why he loved being Nekoma's captain.

"Alright, you bunch of alley cats," he called out to his team, voice carrying over the post-game chaos. "Let's show [Name] how Nekoma celebrates a victory! And if any of you embarrass me, I'll make sure you regret it at our next practice."

With a chorus of cheers, catcalls, and a few nervous gulps, the Nekoma team descended upon the court. They were ready to celebrate your win and, despite Kuroo's warning, no doubt find new and creative ways to tease their captain. But as Kuroo's eyes found you amidst the crowd, your face flushed with victory and eyes shining, he knew he wouldn't have it any other way. This was his team, this was his life, and he was loving every minute of it.

YAMAMOTO TAKETORA

But no one in the building was more fired up than Yamamoto Taketora. The wing spiker with the signature mohawk was practically vibrating in his seat, his eyes wild with enthusiasm as he watched you dominate the court.

"HELL YEAH!" Yamamoto roared, pumping his fist in the air as you scored another point. His voice, always loud, seemed to shake the very foundations of the gym. "That's my girlfriend out there! Did you see that spike? Holy shit!"

Kuroo, sitting next to him, winced and rubbed his ear. "Yamamoto, we're right here. No need to burst our eardrums."

But Yamamoto was too hyped to care. He leapt to his feet, nearly knocking over Kenma's handheld game in the process. "Sorry, cap! I can't help it! She's just so… so… AWESOME!"

Kenma sighed, rescuing his game console from Yamamoto's flailing arms. "We know, Tora. You've only said it about a hundred times in the last ten minutes."

"But Kenma!" Yamamoto whirled around, eyes blazing with passion. "Did you see how she received that serve? It was like… like… GWAH! And then BOOM!" His arms windmilled wildly, nearly taking out Lev in the process.

Lev ducked just in time, his long limbs tangling as he tried to avoid Yamamoto's enthusiastic gestures. "Yamamoto-senpai, please be careful! But you're right, [Name]-san is amazing! How did you get such a cool girlfriend?"

Yamamoto's chest puffed out with pride, a grin splitting his face from ear to ear. "Well, you see, Lev, it's all about confidence! You gotta be bold, you gotta be brave! You gotta-"

"You gotta stop scaring every girl in school with your loud voice and intense staring," Yaku interrupted dryly, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"Yaku-san!" Yamamoto wailed, clutching his heart as if mortally wounded. "How could you say that? I'll have you know, [Name] loves my passion!"

Inuoka leaned forward, eyes wide with curiosity. "But seriously, Yamamoto-senpai, how did you and [Name]-san start dating? You used to get so nervous around girls!"

Yamamoto's face softened, a rare moment of calm settling over his usually energetic features. "Well, you see…" he began, but was cut off by a collective gasp from the crowd.

You had just pulled off an incredible save, diving to keep a seemingly impossible ball in play. Without missing a beat, Yamamoto was on his feet again, bellowing at the top of his lungs.

"THAT'S MY GIRL! DID YOU SEE THAT? DID YOU FREAKING SEE THAT?" He turned to his teammates, eyes wild with excitement. "Tell me you saw that! It was like… like… she flew! Like a tiger! A flying tiger!"

Kuroo chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "We saw it, Yamamoto. The whole gym saw it. And heard you."

But Yamamoto was beyond caring about volume control or public decorum. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "[NAME]! YOU'RE AMAZING! YOU'RE THE BEST! I LOVE YOU!"

His face immediately turned beet red as he realized what he'd just yelled in front of the entire gymnasium. The Nekoma team stared at him in shock for a moment before bursting into laughter and cheers.

"Wow, Yamamoto," Lev grinned, clapping him on the back. "That was so cool! So brave!"

Kenma, despite himself, cracked a small smile. "Well, that's one way to confess."

Yamamoto sank back into his seat, face burning but eyes still fixed on you. "I… I didn't mean to say that out loud," he mumbled, but there was no real regret in his voice.

Kuroo draped an arm around Yamamoto's shoulders, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Well, well, well. Our little Tora is all grown up. Confessing his love in front of the whole school. I'm so proud."

"Shut up," Yamamoto grumbled, but he couldn't keep the smile off his face. "It just… came out."

As the match neared its end, Yamamoto's energy seemed to only increase. He was on his feet for every point, cheering so loudly that people in the next prefecture could probably hear him. When the final whistle blew, signaling your team's victory, Yamamoto let out a roar that put his previous shouts to shame.

"WE WON! [NAME] WON! DID YOU SEE THAT? MY GIRLFRIEND IS THE BEST VOLLEYBALL PLAYER IN THE WORLD!"

Before anyone could stop him, Yamamoto was vaulting over the seats, pushing through the crowd to get to the court. The rest of the Nekoma team scrambled to follow, equal parts amused and mortified by their teammate's antics.

As they reached the edge of the court, Yamamoto skidded to a halt, suddenly nervous. You were there, flushed with victory, surrounded by your celebrating teammates. Yamamoto's usual bravado faltered for a moment as the reality of his public confession sank in.

Kuroo gave him a gentle push forward. "Go on, tiger. Your flying tiger is waiting."

Taking a deep breath, Yamamoto stepped onto the court. His face was a mixture of nervousness and unbridled joy as he approached you. The rest of the Nekoma team watched, grinning, as their boisterous wing spiker prepared to face his greatest challenge yet: talking to his girlfriend after accidentally confessing his love in front of the entire school.

As embarrassing as it was, Yamamoto wouldn't have had it any other way. This was who he was - loud, passionate, and utterly devoted. And as he saw the smile bloom on your face when you spotted him, he knew that's exactly why you loved him too.

@kiesbrainjuice do not copy or translate !

[guardianofnightmares]

Sunrise

Faint beam of artificial light from a surface danced off yellow armor of an Autobot, giving it a color of a newborn star. Bumblebee graced the Decepticon with a broad smile, its warmth making the hostile gloom around his facial features to dissipate.

To Blitzwing a minibot reminded a stray ray of hope which arrived to safe lost souls from a long dead and forgotten world.

A true rising sun in the realm of darkness.

----------

Alright, fellas, next entry to the @blitzbee-week event is finally here)). The prompt of the second day was "Sunrise" and I decided to go more figuratively with it rather then depicting a literal "appearance of the sky" at a particular part of a day. As you can guess by a provided description, Bee basically becomes a "leading star" for a brooding Blitzwing, who, as it seems, is not that thrilled by discovery of his partner.

Just as a previous entry to a mentioned event, this picture is dedicated to my fanfic called "TFA: Icarus". Here's a [link] for the series "folder" which also includes an existing teaser (future prologue) for a story if anyone wants to give it a try. Again, can not thank you enough for all the support you've shown for it so far, I will try my best to come up with updates soon enough.

As it usually goes with such works of mine, I will provide the full snippet of one of chapters, which a depicted scene is taken from, under a cut line for anyone wishing to read more about the scene. Hope you'll enjoy it)

To the surprise of many comrades he’d worked with, the Triplechanger proved to be the most patient mech on a team when it came to long lasting missions. Usually he didn’t find it difficult to lay low and wait for orders to come, even if it meant to stay idle for several solar cycles. It was a useful trait of character which Decepticon rightfully prided himself of. 

Yet, even a seemingly boundless patience had its limits. 

“Can you see anything of use out there?” Blitzwing finally asked his unfortunate “partner in crime”.

A brightly colored mech slipped on the spot upon hearing Con’s voice but managed to regain his balance. 

“Not yet, Blitzwing, give me a klik!” A minibot shouted over his shoulder, holding on the steel bar for dear life. “Climbing is not as easy as I’m surely making it look in your optics.”

If Bumblebee planed to cheer up a Warframe with such a comment, he failed miserably, for it only seemed to sour up an already bad mood of a tall mech. 

To a Decepticon, it felt like forever since the minibot began his ascend up a steep scarp of a crumbled wall. One would think that, thanks to his light frame, he’d manage to reach the top level in no time. But even this uneven terrain, made of torn sheets of metal and broken cables, proved to be a challenge to an agile Autobot. 

The damned energy chain, which linked limbs of both mechs to each other, clearly was the greatest obstacle for Bumblebee, barely giving him a chance to move as far away from a somber mech as possible. Not to mention that a Decepticon was forced to stand on one pede in order to accommodate his companion’s slow conquest of new heights. 

Admittedly, a Triplechanger considered an option of tearing the bug’s pede he’s bound to off. But that type of cuffs always latched onto anything in their vicinity (while being activated). Meaning, the chances of getting tied to a nearby wall, as a result of said actions, reached more than 90%. 

Tearing his own pede off was not part of a Warframe’s plans. 

“If you haven’t noticed it yet, Bumblebee Prime, we don’t have plenty of time left to hide in these tunnels,” A “former” convict grumbled in response while surveying his surroundings for an up-tenth time. He didn’t notice how a Bot winced at the mention of his new title.

Minibot knew he deserved that snide remark. But it did not make him feel better about his recent promotion to an Elite Guard. Or about a decision to become one for that matter. The decision which led to a situation where an Autobot and a Decepticon got lost under an Iacon city. 

They had to hide in maintenance tunnels from the times prior to a Great War. Tunnels built by Decepticons for Autobots’ use, and left by them to slowly rot in an utter disrepair after the said War was officially ended. Sealed off since the banishment of Warframes from Cybertron, eventually the structure turned into an urban myth not many of currently living mechs remember or even know about.

An old complex Blitzwing and Bumblbee were currently navigating in was once part of the major supportive structure. Meant to protect veins and tubes once full of energon, that section was made of sturdy materials which stoically passed the test of time. 

The Decepticon would’ve lied if he’d said he’s not pleasantly surprised by that discovery. 

But it did not bright up his mood by much - they still needed to find a way to the surface level of a planet. 

“Foolish of me to expect a scout with no field experience to do a Warframe’s job,” the mech muttered under his breath, words bitter on his glossa. “Perhaps I should have been the one to search for an exit after all”.

Blitzwing had no intent for the last sentence to be heard by his peer, but an aforementioned scout, apparently, had nicely tuned audials. 

Figures. 

“And to risk exposing your Decepticon signature to raging authorities? No, thanks!” Bumblebee chirped after successfully reaching for a rod sticking out of a long abandoned structure. “It was already enough of me putting everything at risk by making stupid decisions - I don’t want to see you following my lead.”

Somehow the fact that a minibot admitted his mistakes helped to somewhat cool Blitzwing down. He said nothing in return but did glance at him once prior returning to surveying desolated surroundings. 

Bumbler’s changed since the promotion to the ranks of an Elite Guard. He seemed to act more mature, even if he’s still naive about most things happening around him. For strangers it’d be an unexpected change of character for such an optimistic and energetic Bot as Bumblebee. But Blitzwing was no random outsider, whether he liked to be on closer terms with a current companion of his or not. 

Death of a teammate has effected the minibot on a much deeper level then he’d ever admit to anybody, even to himself. Yet, despite how horrible it might’ve sounded, the Decepticon thought that that was an important lesson every soldier had to live through. And as a mech, who’s witnessed deaths of many of his comrades throughout the Great War, he had to agree that Bumbler was holding up pretty well for someone so inexperienced in mentioned matters. 

Even Blitzwing, who did not know Prowl as well as a yellow Bot did, felt the loss of a mech effecting him as well to a certain degree. No matter how secluded and cold the cyber-ninja seemed to be, he always had a special aura around him, the one that made people feel at ease in his presence. Though how he could so freely speak to a Con about importance of life and probability of peace among Cybertronians remained a mystery to him to that solar cycle.  

What was that thing black and golden Autobot’s talking about during the last conversation of theirs? 

“To have Faith not in Primus, not in The Allspark, but in each other”?

What exactly made him see it being possible back then and, especially, at a current stage of the reignited conflict between factions? Triplechanger had no answer to that question either. He didn’t view how the world should work the same way Prowl did. Could not fully comprehend the intricacies of a philosophy of an Autobot, but, at least, did not lack the courage to make it very clear during a mentioned discussion of theirs.

Blitzwing didn’t have Faith in anyone anymore, and he surely wouldn't in a foreseen future. 

For who could remain being supportive of their unhelpful, unwanted partn-… Autobot, while being lost in Allspark forsaken place with no means of escape?

…

“… -es! I see the gap in a wall!.. Blitzwing, I actually see it!”

The joyful voice tore Triplechanger from a deep melancholy state he slipped into while looking down a dark tunnel to his left. He raised his ruby optics, their faint glow barely lighting sharp features of his blue faceplates.

“Right where you’ve predicted it to be,” The Autobot added after turning around in order to face his unfortunate companion, unintentionally giving him quite a peculiar view of his small form.

Faint beam of artificial light from a surface danced off yellow armor of an Autobot, giving it a color of a newborn star. Bumblebee graced the Decepticon with a broad smile, its warmth making the hostile gloom around his facial features to dissipate.

To Blitzwing a minibot reminded a stray ray of hope which arrived to safe lost souls from a long dead and forgotten world.

A true rising sun in the realm of darkness.

...

Blitzwing huffed in mild annoyance at himself and his artistic side of a processor - it was not the right moment for poetic comparisons. Hope and Faith had no place in a situation he was stuck in, only cold calculations. He and Bumbler had to get out of that place, no matter the cost. And the sooner they’d get rid of an energy chain, the better.

[lnfours]

bucket hat protector ™️ | l.n

summary: a blurb about how you’re the only one lando trusts with his bucket hat

warnings: fluff, language, currently signing my soul over to this boy.

masterlist | ask box

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

the garage was busy, buzzing with excitement as the start of the qualifying race neared closer and closer. you had seemed to somehow lost your boyfriend in the sea of orange, but the quick glimpse you got of the highlighter yellow bucket hat caught your attention. you made your way through, smiling as his eyes met yours and he reached out to pull you closer to him.

“there you are,” you smiled, “lost you for a second, but thankfully you’re very hard to miss.”

you tapped the brim of the bucket hat that sat on top of his curls. he smiled back down at you, taking off his hat before plopping it down onto your head.

“and now it’s your job to protect it with your life.”

you put a hand over your heart playfully, the hand that wasn’t holding his helmet snaking around your wrist, “lando norris is trusting someone with his hats? oh, it’s such an honor.”

he smirked down at you, “only you, baby. no one else.”

you smiled, reaching up and placing a gentle kiss on his lips. the smiles got too wide, your lips breaking the kiss as you brushed back a loose hair from his forehead, “i love you.”

“i love you,” he said, tugging the mask over his head before slipping the helmet on, “i’m serious about my hat though.”

you giggled, helping him do the straps under his chin, “i know, trust me, it’s in good hands.”

his eyes were squinted, a sign that he was smiling in the helmet.

“2 minutes!”

you wrapped your arms around his neck, “good luck, i’ll be here cheering you on.”

he nodded, “i love you.”

“i love you.”

you let him slip out of your grasp as he made his way over to the car. as he walked by, you gave oscar a high five, a new pre-race ritual for the two of you, but this time he called back over his shoulder.

“he put you in charge of the hat? you’re a lucky girl!”

you laughed, backing up toward the back of the garage as they rolled the cars out to get started on the race. it was a rainy morning, which meant that this race was bound to get interesting.

once it had started, you kept your eyes glued to the screen in front of you. it had felt like it had been ages by the time Q2 came along, taking a deep breath as lando and oscar kept fighting their way through. you held your breath towards the end of Q2, only letting it go when both mclarens were now safely making their way through to Q3.

and it wasn’t long until you were cheering with the rest of the garage as lando finished Q3 in P2. you clapped, the biggest smile on your face as he made his way back into the garage, the team celebrating upon his arrival.

he thanked his team, eyes looking for you behind the familiar faces. but just like you had seen earlier, the highlighter yellow stuck out in the crowd of papaya. now he understood what you meant when you said he was the most identifiable out of everyone.

he made his way to you as you congratulated oscar, taking off his helmet and tugging the mask from his head. almost instantly, he was wrapping his arms around your waist, yours wrapping around his neck as he squeezed you against him tight.

“i’m so proud of you, you did great.”

sure, he he’d heard it before, but it always felt different coming from you. you could tell it felt different for him coming from you when you met his eyes and they were full of adoration.

“thanks to you,” he said, “not only are you my good luck charm, but now you’re my certified bucket hat protector.”

you laughed, reaching up and taking it off before plopping it onto his fluffy, messy curls, “it’s been an honor, my love.”

he leaned down and kissed you sweetly, “i love you.”

“more than the bucket hat?”

he scrunched his nose and twisted his lips in fake, deep thought. you laughed and hit his chest playfully, letting him take your hand as you made your way to the drivers room.

“i guess i can squeeze you at the top of the podium, right above the bucket hat and those little sausages.”

“so what, stroopwafels are P4?”

his eyes widened, “shit, we might have to do some rearranging.”

you rolled your eyes, laugh echoing through the hallway as he smiled down at you, “never change, lando norris. never change.”

[zegrasdrysdale]

Could you write some thigh riding smut with Ethan Edwards? Reader and Ethan are just friends when it happens so maybe they’re hanging out and it somehow leads to sex. Bonus points if there’s jealousy and dirty talk lol

[ that way ] e. edwards

paring : Ethan Edwards x fem!reader

summary : jealousy gets the best of Ethan's best friend when she comes into town to watch him play some hockey

warning(s) : smut ! spoilers for "my best friend's wedding" (1997 movie), jealousy, dirty talk, thigh riding, multiple orgasms, p in v penetrative sex, protected sex

author’s note : you asked, i rewrote multiple times bc i wasn't happy w it, it deleted itself once, then i delivered (i hope). enjoy <3

༺═──────────────═༻

The puck finds the back of the net. The lamp lights up and the horn goes off. Everyone that’s wearing a yellow and blue jersey in Yost Arena is on their feet immediately. (Y/N) celebrates with the crowd in her borrowed jersey. She smiles and cheers while all the Michigan boys come out onto the ice to celebrate their overtime win right in front of her.

Ethan looks up into the stands right at his best friend. He points at her with a smile on his face even though she’s about six rows off the glass. She waves at him before he goes back to celebrating with his team. He gives helmet taps and he gets helmet taps.

He looks good in full gear on the ice. She may have to come to Michigan more often to come watch him play. It's very rare that she gets to come out to watch Ethan play for Michigan. It's not like she hasn’t been watching him play their entire lives. Even when she wasn’t allowed to go out and watch him play.

One time when she was grounded at 13, she snuck out of the house to go watch him play despite knowing both of Ethan’s parents were at the game. They didn’t snitch on her though. She was thankful because she got to watch him score two goals and get an assist on the game winner. She's been like a daughter to them since she and Ethan met in preschool.

Slowly, the players make their way off the ice and she finds her way to the hallway with the door that leads to the locker rooms. She leans against the wall outside the door because she doesn’t want to see something that would scar her for life.

She shoots Ethan a text so he knows she’s waiting for him. He doesn’t respond so she assumes he’s either talking to his coach or taking his postgame shower.

To keep busy, she scrolls through her social media and likes a few posts. She tweets pictures of Ethan on the ice when he was warming up and when he scored a goal in the second period. They quickly begin to circulate on Twitter and Instagram.

The door opens and some of Ethan’s teammates begin to start walking out with their wet hair and casual clothes on. Some of them say hi and that it's nice to see her as they walk past. Rutger tells her that Ethan is coming out “soon”. Soon for Ethan Edwards is either five minutes or a half an hour.

“Soon” this time means ten minutes. Ethan comes out in a button up, his letter jacket, nice dress pants, and a Michigan beanie. “Hey,” he says. “Glad you could make it. Sorry I didn’t get to see you before the game started.”

She smiles and gives him a side hug. One of his arms drapes over her shoulders and her arm wraps around his waist. “I’m here for a few days so you can make it up to me,” she tells him. “What do you think of the jersey? Stole it from your closet after Seamus let me into the house.”

Ethan backs away and looks at (Y/N) in his jersey. She turns in a slow circle so he can get a good look at her in the jersey. “Looks better on you than it does on me,” he admits. “Good to know that you still rock my name and number on your back.”

(Y/N) laughs but she wishes she could rock his name in another way. “So what’s the plan for tonight?” she asks. “Just hang out? Watch a movie? Show me around Ann Arbor?”

Before he can respond, a girl comes running up from behind Ethan and jumps on his back. She wraps herself around him. “That was a sexy goal you scored tonight, Eddy,” she says into his ear. “Looked good doing it too.”

Ethan smiles and turns his head to look at the girl in the Michigan hockey hoodie. “You think so?”

“Know so,” she giggles. “You’re so hot when you put the puck in the back of the net.” The girl begins pressing kisses against his jaw. He laughs and (Y/N) bites her bottom lip so she doesn’t say anything. It takes everything not to say some snarky comment.

She knows girls constantly throw themselves at him. Ethan isn't afraid to call her after one of his one night stands. He is one of the most attractive guys she knows, he’s super smart, and one of the most talented hockey players that she's ever seen play. He knows it too and doesn't shy away from the attention.

It isn’t a secret that girls on this campus want to hook up with him or be with him.

What is a secret is her feelings for her best friend. She is no better than the girls that throw themselves at Ethan. If she could then she would, but they’re friends and that would be crossing a line that shouldn’t be crossed. There's no going back if that line gets crossed.

And she's terrified of crossing that line. It doesn't mean she doesn't get jealous of other girls that tell Ethan how sexy he is and how good he looks when he scores goals without crossing that line. She wishes she could be one of those girls that gets to throw herself at him.

"You and your teammates should come to the party that happening at the house tonight," she suggests. "I think it would be super fun to hang out with the hockey team. To hang out with you. You can even bring your little friend here. She looks like she could use a good party." The girl looks her up and down in Ethan's jersey.

That last comment really pisses her off though. She completely loses her filter, and she's not even sorry.

"Who do you think you're talking to?" she asks, eyes boring into the girl on Ethan's back. "You can hop right off my boy's back now and find someone else to fuck tonight because I promise you that he isn't interested in fucking you. Bye bye." She waves goodbye to put some emphasis on her words.

The girl lowers herself back to the ground with a roll of her eyes. Ethan looks between the nameless girl and (Y/N) as the nameless girl shoulder tackles her. She resists every urge to punch this girl in the face despite the pain in her shoulder as she walks away.

She looks back at Ethan when the nameless girl leaves the arena. She follows her outside so they can go home after a minute. He blinks at her when they get in his car before he says, "I don't think I have ever seen you get like that."

"Like what?"

"So possessive," Ethan tells her as he starts his car. He pulls out of the parking spot and heads toward the house he lives in with Dylan, Tyler, and Luca. "Almost like you were jealous of her."

Her head snaps in his direction to look at him. "I wasn't jealous of her," she lies. "I was protecting you. The amount of calls I've gotten at two in the morning because you're upset that another girl left you in your bed is a little ridiculous."

"You're not wrong about that," he comments. "I guess it is ridiculous."

Every time Ethan's girl of the night leaves him after a party or bringing a girl back after a game, he calls his best friend and she gets to hear all about the sex or how he thought she was the one that wasn't going to leave him.

She's gotten very tired of it so she's taking a stand for him.

"So, you never told me what the plan was for the night since it's my first night in Ann Arbor," she says as Ethan turns out of the parking lot. "We could go to that party she was talking about if you want, or I'm perfectly okay with staying in tonight since you have another game tomorrow."

Ethan glances at her as she drives. "Is there something you'd like to do?" he asks. "You're here for a week so I'm also okay if you don't want to go out tonight. There will be parties during the week we can go to if you're okay with snacks and a movie or two. I'm pretty sure my roommates are going out tonight anyway so we'll have the house to ourselves to catch up."

Ideas flow through her head. She wants to do a lot in the next seven days that she's in Michigan before she heads back to Alberta.

Tonight though, she just wants to spend time with Ethan without worrying about which girl is going to throw herself at him next.

"Movie night with snacks sounds really nice," she eventually tells him.

He smiles and makes a turn. "You can look through my Netflix when we get back to the house," he tell her. "I need to take a longer shower when we get back so while I'm in the bathroom, you can find a movie that we can watch."

She nods and scrolls through her phone while Ethan drives. It's not a long drive from Yost to the house he shares with three of his closest friends and teammates. It's maybe ten minutes before Ethan pulls into the driveway. There are no other cars in the driveway so he was right about them having the house to themselves tonight.

A very excited (Y/N) gets out of the car and Ethan is quick to follow her. She has an idea of what movie she wants to watch but she has to check to make sure it's on Netflix before she gets too excited about it.

Ethan disappears into the bathroom that's attached to his bedroom. She disappears into the kitchen to gather some snacks for them to eat while they have their movie night.

She makes some popcorn but also puts together a candy bowl filled with M&Ms, Reese's Cups, mini Twix, and Hershey Kisses. Sweet and savory choices for them. She even grabs two cans of soda that are in the fridge so they have something to drink.

When she walks into Ethan's room with the bowls of snacks and cans of soda, he is walking out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. She has to look away before she stares at the water droplets rolling down his chest.

"Jesus, E," she gasps. She almost drops the snacks and drinks so she can cover her eyes. Ethan uses his hands to cover his crotch like she can see through the towel around his waist. "You couldn't have brought clothes into the bathroom with you?"

"I did," Ethan replies. "I forgot underwear. I opened the door so see if you were in here and you weren't so I wrapped a towel around myself. You were in here when I came out to put on underwear."

She glances at Ethan as he pulls up the pair of boxers over his waist. His back is to her so she admires him from behind for a second. His thighs are insane and every single back muscle works as he dresses himself. He turns his head to look at her as soon as he's wearing a shirt again. She quickly looks at the snacks in her hands to act like she wasn't watching him get dressed.

"Warn a girl before you walk into a room with nothing but a towel on, Ethan," she tells him as she sets the bowls and cans down on the table next to his bed. She crawls onto the mattress and grabs the TV remote.

"It's not like you haven't seen me naked before," he says.

"It has been literally like fifteen years since I saw you naked," she retorts. "It's your fault we were even in that situation because you decided to cover both of us in mud. Your mother decided that it would be funny to bathe us together."

Ethan laughs and crawls onto his bed next to her. "My bad," he says. "Anyway. Did you find a movie to watch or are we winging it?"

She loads his Netflix account and replies, "I think I know what I want to watch but I have to make sure it's still on here. If it's not then we'll wing it."

"Okay," he slowly says. "What movie?"

As soon as he asks, My Best Friend's Wedding pops up when she goes into the romance movies section. Ethan raises his eyebrows and looks over at her when she clicks it. "Seriously?"

"What?" she asks. "It's a romcom. I know you don't watch many of those so I thought we could watch one of my favorite ones." Ethan frowns. "Come on, E. You'll love it. I promise."

He sighs as the movie begins to play. “If I hate it then we are going to watch Miracle or Mighty Ducks,” he tells her. Sounds like a plan to her so she nods in agreement.

She hands Ethan his soda and he cracks it open.

Picking My Best Friend's Wedding was kind of a hint in a way since Julia Roberts' character is in love with her best friend, who is marrying someone else. She didn't lie when she said it's one of her favorite romcoms though. She adores this movie and loves Julia Roberts.

He seems very into the movie though. Not once does he complain about how stupid it is. It's throwing her off a little bit.

Ethan reaches over her to grab one of the snack bowls around what she thinks is the halfway point of the movie. "I could've given it to you, asshole," she tells him. "You didn't have to reach over me when I'm trying to watch the movie."

"I just wanted some candy," he replies with a mouthful of chocolate. "I need to munch while watching the movie, (Y/N)."

She laughs and looks over at him as he stuffs a Reese's Cup in his mouth. She steals one of the Hershey Kisses out of the bowl and tosses it into her mouth. Ethan smiles and does the same. She shakes her head and goes back to watching the movie.

As she watches one of her favorite scenes toward the end of the movie, she's slightly on edge. She's very still the entire time. It's the scene where Julia Roberts' character Jules tells her best friend Michael, played by Dermot Mulroney, that she is in love with him and they share a kiss.

When she quickly glances beside her at Ethan, she finds him already looking at her. She quickly turns her head and looks away from him. Her cheeks begin to heat up like she’s embarrassed that he caught her looking at him.

He catches her chin and turns her head back so she’s looking at him again before she’s fulling facing the movie.

“Eth-”

“Please don’t say anything or else I won’t be able to do this,” he says to interrupt her.

She raises her eyebrows in confusion as Ethan’s thumb brushes over her bottom lip. His eyes flicker down to her lips before moving back up to her eyes. The eye contact they’re holding makes her entire body shake with excitement and anticipation.

Ethan doesn’t make any moves. His eyes float and study every part of her face, taking in every detail that he can see in the mostly dark room.

Very hesitantly, she throws a leg over one of his thighs and she straddles his leg. Ethan pushes her hair behind her ear and cups her jaw.

The entire time, they hold each other’s eyes. The tips of their noses touch every time Ethan moves in then backs away like he’s unsure.

“Do something,” she whispers, desperate. Her hands rest on his chest. “Ethan. Kiss me.”

He wastes no time.

Ethan sits up and wraps his arms around her waist to pull her closer to him. He crashes his lips to hers like he’s done holding back. She leans into him and deepens the kiss, pushing him back until he’s sitting up against the headboard.

The movie is soon forgotten about behind her. All she can hear is her own heart pounding in her ears. She no longer had any idea of what is going on behind her because she’s so focused on what’s in front of her.

She feels Ethan’s hands slither up the back of the jersey she’s still wearing. She never took it off and switched to a pair of black Lululemon shorts after she took off her leggings. A smile forms on Ethan’s lips when he realizes that she still has on his jersey.

Ethan’s fingers run up and down her back at the same time hers find their way under Ethan’s Michigan hockey t-shirt. She presses her fingers into his abs and sighs. All she has wanted to do since Ethan built up the muscles he has now is touch them.

Now she can.

“Take it off,” Ethan mumbles into a kiss as he pulls at the jersey. “I love seeing you in it but it needs to come off right now."

She reaches down between them and pulls the jersey over her head, breaking the kiss in the process. When she gets the jersey off, she sees Ethan’s eyes are on her body. She bites her bottom lip and grabs the bottom of Ethan’s shirt.

Might as well get it off now before they get distracted again.

Ethan gets the cue and sits up. She pulls the thin fabric off of him and tosses it to the floor with the jersey. Her eyes meet his and she finds a hunger in them that she's never seen before.

Friends definitely don't look at friends that way so something is changing between them. Goosebumps form on her exposed skin as she realizes that this could be the beginning of something new. Their whole relationship is changing with every second and every touch.

He cups her jaw with both his hands and runs his thumbs over her cheekbones.

"You have no idea how much I've wanted you like this," Ethan softly confesses, looking between her eyes.

"I think I have an idea," she whispers as she leans in to connect their lips again.

Their lips make contact with each other and she presses her chest flush against his. In the process, she rolls her hips and grinds her clothed core on his thigh. She gasps at the pressure and Ethan's hands fly to her waist.

She tries it again and lets out a soft whine. She's surprised at how good it feels. Ethan smiles into the kiss as she begins to use his thigh to get off.

It makes sense to her that she would like this. She was just thinking about his thighs earlier when he was getting dressed.

The kiss breaks and she rests her forehead against Ethan's. Soft pants pass her swollen lips and Ethan smiles. "Gonna use my thigh to come?" he asks. "You gonna get off using my thigh, baby?"

"Mhm," she hums. "Feels good. Kind of in love with your thighs, E."

He laughs and helps her move her hips.

She can feel how muscular his thighs are through her shorts and his sweatpants. Just like she thought earlier - his thighs are insane.

A knot already forms in the pit of her belly. Her breathing has gotten very labored and she claws at Ethan's chest, definitely leaving behind some scratch marks he'll get teased for later by his teammates.

"Ethan," she breathes out. "Fuck."

He presses kisses to her jaw. "I got you," he tells her. "Go ahead. Come."

Almost like she was waiting for his permission, she comes with a cry. She ruins her panties and probably her shorts at the same time. Her fingers find Ethan's hair and she lightly grips his locks because she needs something to hold onto.

Ethan peppers her jaw and cheek with light kisses as she lays her head on his shoulder while she comes down from her high. He lightly brushes her hair out of her face and she hums a little "thank you".

"Feel better?" he asks. "Got it out of your system?"

She rolls her eyes and lifts her head as soon as she has enough strength to. "For now," she retorts. "Right now though, I need you to get inside of me because it's all I've been thinking about for years."

He smiles and quickly rolls them over so she's on her back. "Your wish is my command," he says as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of her ruined shorts and panties. "Hope you don't need to walk in the morning."

Her eyes widen as he pulls off the shorts and panties in one go. She lifts her hips off the bed to help him out. She's completely exposed to him now since she went without a bra under the jersey. She crosses her arms over her chest.

Ethan is quick to grab her hands and uncover her body. "Don't hide from me, baby," he tells her. "You're beautiful. I've always thought you were beautiful. You never have to hide from me."

She nods and Ethan gets on his knees between her legs. She watches as he pushes off his boxers and sweats. His dick pops out of his boxers and she bites her bottom lip.

Yeah, she’s not going to be able to walk in the morning. It really is a good thing she doesn’t have to go anywhere.

He leans over and reaches into his bedside table. He had a tiny silver package between his fingers when he comes back to hover over her.

“I need to make sure you are absolutely okay with this,” he says. “You aren’t going to regret this or anything like that. I don’t want you to think that I’m pressuring you-”

“Ethan, if you don’t fuck me in the next two seconds, I am going to get up and go find someone who will,” she interrupts.

His eyes darken when he makes the comment about going to find someone that will fuck her. “Oh hell no,” he mumbles before he tears the condom package open with his teeth. She smiles as he slides the condom onto himself.

Her fingers find a home in Ethan’s hair when he leans over her. She holds his locks from falling into his face since he does have longer hair. He lines himself up with her and meets her eyes. “I trust you, E,” she tells him. “I have always trusted you.” I love you.

With her reassurance, Ethan slowly pushes into her. She gasps and bites her lip. “Fuck, (Y/N),” he breathes out. “So tight. God.”

Being tired of hearing him talk, she leans up and presses her lips to his. She wraps her arms around his neck as he bottoms out in her. Ethan presses his hands into the pillows on either side of her head so he doesn’t crush her.

She rolls her hips so she feels Ethan move inside of her. A soft sigh passes her lips into the kiss. Ethan leans into her and deepens the kiss. Her fingers drag down his back as he finally begins to roll his hips so he moves in and out of her.

The sound of soft whines and moans fill the room until the sound of the bed creaking follows when Ethan speeds up his movements. She breaks the kiss and arches her back off the bed and Ethan kisses her chest.

“Such a good girl for me,” Ethan pants. “Making these pretty noises. Does my cock feel good inside you, baby?”

“S’ good,” she breathes out. “Feels so good, E. You make me feel so good. Fuck.”

He smiles against her skin. He pushes one of her legs up and lets it hook around his arm, and he’s able to move even deeper inside of her. She cries out in pleasure and her head begins to spin.

It’s been years since she realized that she was in love with her best friend. He is all she has wanted since they went to prom together in their senior year of high school.

Even if he doesn’t love her, the fact that he is on top of her means that he has to feel something for her.

Right?

This is a welcomed change in their relationship. Going from friends to this is welcomed.

Her legs begin to shake as her second orgasm of the night starts to build in her belly. Ethan changes his pace every so often but continuously moves deep into her so he’s completely inside of her.

She’s pretty sure her breasts are marked up because of the way Ethan keeps nipping and sucking at the skin. It doesn’t bother her.

Getting marked by Ethan is never going to bother her.

Ethan pulls out then slams into her. “Holy fuck,” she cries out. “Shit, E.”

“Just wanna make my girl feel good,” Ethan pants.

He does it again and she clenches around him. She comes without warning and with Ethan’s name on her lips. Her entire body shakes and her vision goes white.

It’s probably the hardest she has ever come in her life. No one has made her feel as good as Ethan has.

It must be a minute before she comes to because he has a cloth in his hand and is cleaning her up. Her breathing is extremely labored and her entire body feels heavy. He tosses the cloth to the floor with their clothes and she looks at the TV.

‘Are you still watching’ lights up the screen and she can’t help but smile at the realization of what just happened.

Ethan pulls the blankets over their naked bodies and asks, “What’s with the smile?”

She looks up at him and says, “I really liked it. I liked being able to touch and kiss you.”

“So, what I’m hearing is that you wouldn’t mind doing it again?” he questions.

“Absolutely not.”

A loud knock rings out throughout the room and Luca is on the other side as he says, “Walls are thin! I don’t feel like buying ear plugs so please keep it down! Also, it’s about damn time.”

She covers her mouth and laughs. Ethan rolls his eyes and gets comfortable. “I need to move out and get my own place.”

“I second that.”

༺═──────────────═༻

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[desperate-gay]

Pent Up Energy

Alex Morgan x fem!reader

SMUT 18+

summary: alex is upset and you don’t know why

a/n: 100% based off the game last night

Beads of sweat roll down the side of your head from the exhaustion. Colombia has decided not to play cleanly, instead wanting to be as physical as possible and you were bearing the brunt of it. Only 20 minutes into the game you have gotten tackled at least 3 times, each moment being more brutal than the last.

Luckily, there hasn’t been too much conflict between anybody, but that’s until your thoughts are interrupted by a bunch of shouting. Looking over to the left, you see your girlfriend stepping in the face of a Colombian player as the rest of the visiting team tries to meddle in. You quickly rush over to stop Alex, noticing she’s getting more heated every moment.

Slipping your way through the multiple bodies, you place your hand on the forward’s chest, gently pushing her back. You try your best to defuse the situation, but she just ignores you and continues to yell at the player, earning her a yellow card from the ref.

When she notices your hand on her chest, she wipes it off while scoffing before walking away. Trinity notices and quirks an eyebrow towards you, but in response, all you do is take a deep breath and shrug.

After the halftime whistle blew, Alex stayed clear of you. Usually, you both pep each other up for the next half but instead, she stayed quiet and to herself until everyone was sent back onto the pitch. Horan pats you on the back, giving you a sympathetic smile before running over to her position.

The game never dims down with players all showing their fiery side, specifically Alex and Trinity. That ends up playing a part when they both end up getting subbed out at the seventy-second minute.

“You played well.” You whisper, brushing your hand against Alex’s passing body. She spares you a quick look before walking off and onto the bench. Sighing, you lean down to fix your socks and peek your head over to your girlfriend only to see her staring into space with a stoic look.

The rest of the game is grueling but rewarding as you have beaten Colombia and are advancing to the semifinals. After an hour or so you’re boarding onto the bus, taking an open seat and hoping for your girlfriend to join you. Sadly, when she gets on, she doesn’t even glance toward you and decides to sit several seats behind you.

Slightly frustrated with the brunette, you huff and drop your head back against the cushion of the headrest before being interrupted by a giddy smile. You can’t help but smile back at the sweet girl.

“Hi, Naomi.”

“Hey, what are you doing once we get back to the hotel?” She asks while readjusting herself and setting her bag down by her feet.

“Well, I was planning to see if I could room with Alex, but it doesn’t seem like she wants anything to do with me at the moment.” You send Naomi a weak smile which she returns with a sympathetic one.

“Nonsense, we all know Alex gets moody at times but never directly at you. I’m assigned to be her roommate so why don’t we switch? I heard you got Soph anyway.” The defender digs in her bag, pulling out a keycard and holding it out to you.

You wearily accept the card with a small thank you and give her yours in exchange. For the remainder of the ride, Naomi helps you cheer up with a few stories and jokes about her little hangouts with some of the team.

“Time to cheer up the monster.” You groan in which Naomi just laughs and offers you a hand to stand up.

“I believe in you. Go save your knight in shining armor.”

“More like my beast.” You grumble, receiving chuckles from some of the girls who have overheard, none of them being Alex, thankfully, as she is still getting off the bus.

Walking into the hotel, you make your way to your room and are met with your girlfriend soon after. You shyly glance at her and see her confused gaze.

“I thought I was roomed with Girma?” Alex frowns while you give her a look of slight discomfort.

“Umm, Naomi wanted to trade so she could room with Soph and I thought rooming with you would be nice. I could go switch it back if you want.” You whisper, slightly scared she doesn’t want you near her and your voice might betray you.

“No, just stay with me.” The girl mumbles, opening the door with her key and rushing in with her baggage.

Your eyes follow her movements like a lost puppy while you stand by the door. Alex takes in the silence and looks up at you, stopping her scavenging in her back.

“What?” She asks, looking at you with an annoyed expression. You swallow back your nerves before making your way over to the bed and getting everything that you need out of your bag and ready for the night.

The thick silence lasts for around twenty minutes before you begin to feel irritated. Alex is in the little kitchen, leaning against the counter and looking at her phone.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” You finally ask gently, trying your best to keep your growing frustration with the striker at bay.

“Nothing.” Her tone remains empty, clearly not wanting to open up.

“It has to be something. You’ve been avoiding me all day, along with being quiet.” You explain, walking over to her but still keeping a little bit of space between the two of you.

“I told you, I’m fine.”

“Alex, you did amazing out there today, we won 3-0 and we’re advancing. If it’s about the card-“

“It’s not about the fucking card!” Alex finally snaps, dropping her phone on the counter and looking at you with a fiery gaze, but it doesn’t tear you down.

“Then tell me what it’s about, please. I can’t have you concealing all this anger. It’s not fair to you or me.” You try, voice becoming more and more desperate.

“Just shut up,” Alex warns, clenching her jaw as her hands tighten on the counter while shifting her eyes away from you.

“I’m just trying to help-”

Your sentence is cut off when your girlfriend storms over to you and she reaches out, gripping your jaw while pinning you against the wall. You look up at her with wide eyes, taking in her appearance. Wet hair, red cheeks, a zip-up training kit covering her body, and blown pupils.

“I said to shut up.” She grits, her hand never leaving your face. Her eyes look down at your lips for a split second and you luckily notice.

Without warning, she smashes her lips onto yours in a harsh kiss. Nothing about it is sweet or romantic. Both your tongues and teeth clash together like you’re trying to see who can last longer to this roughness. The hand on your jaw leaves and finds a new place around your neck, controlling every movement of your head.

“God you’re so hot. You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to have you all to myself again.” The taller girl rasps against your lips before moving down to nip at your neck.

While she attacks your neck, you finally put two and two together. You realize Alex may have been aggravated by this game but all of her pent-up anger mainly resulted from a little sexual frustration. With the NWSL preseason starting and the Gold Cup, you both have been busy at training camp and too exhausted to even think about starting anything.

But with Alex, she needs an outlet after she’s played, which is mainly sex. She can finally have total control of something and that something being you. You’re at her total submission, allowing her to do whatever she wants to you and making you do whatever she wants to her.

Her lips disconnecting from your neck pulls you out of your thoughts. You look up at her with your doe eyes and watch as her tongue licks her lips while she eyes you up and down.

Soon her hands grip your waist and tug you over to the bed. She sits at the end of the mattress and leans back with her hands holding her up while you remain standing in front of her.

“Strip,” Alex demands, watching as you slowly grip the bottom of your shirt and cautiously pull it over your head. When she takes sight of what seems to be a new bra, she sits back up and grips your naked hips.

“If you need to use me, use me, Alex.” You say boldly, returning her lustful gaze. Her jaw almost drops before she quickly starts unbuttoning your jeans and yanking them down so you’re only in your bra and panties.

“Get on the bed.” When you don’t immediately do as she says, she pulls you down herself making you squeal in the process. “When I say to do something, you listen, got it?” You nod your head, earning you a satisfied grin.

Alex’s body hovers over you with her wet hair curtaining any view other than her face. You blindly reach down and tug on the zipper of her hoodie, asking if you can take it off. She swiftly sits up and removes all of her clothes, leaving her bare.

“I guess I should take these off you now, shouldn’t I?” She taunts, hooking her finger on the waistband of your panties and letting go of them with a sharp snap against your skin.

“Please, Alex. I need you.” You whine, bucking your hips closer to her hand. She chuckles before leaning down and kissing on your chest. Her hand reaches around your back and unclips your bra, letting it slide down a little before taking it off altogether.

Instead of moving down, her lips move up your neck and to your ear. “So beautiful, I can’t wait to have you trembling underneath my touch and screaming for me to let you cum.” Her breath fans against your ear while her breasts are smushed against yours. She tugs on your earlobe with her teeth before sitting back up, admiring your body.

“I bet you’re already wet for me even though I have barely touched you. You probably like me roughhousing you around to my pleasure. So obedient for me.” You moan as she carelessly speaks of you while trailing her finger down the center of your stomach.

“Alex, baby, I need you. I need you to touch me, please.” Your body squirms while she continues to trace her finger down to your core.

She finally dips her hand in and spreads your arousal around, completely lost in her head on how wet you are. Her finger teasingly dips into you but only for a split second, causing you to whine out.

“God, I’ve missed this pretty pussy so much.” Your girlfriend groans before angling her arm in an awkward manner and plunging two fingers into you.

Her body leans down so her lips can latch onto your breasts, leaving hickeys anywhere she pleases. Moans spew their way out of your mouth at the long-needed pleasure, but her thrusts are nowhere near fast enough to get you off, mainly because of the way her arm is angled, so you reach down with a huff and kick off your panties, leaving no restraint for Alex.

“Faster.” You pant, rolling your hips with each thrust of the forward’s hand. She chuckles and moves her arm lower so she can pump in and out of you at an ungodly pace.

“Is this what you want? Want to get fucked so hard you won’t be able to think properly, huh?” She questions without her fingers even stuttering. The loud wet noises of her thrusts echo throughout the hotel room along with your whimpers and moans.

Her finger reaches a point inside of you that has your head spinning. The build-up in your lower stomach becomes more apparent as your core tightens around your girlfriend’s digits.

“I’m gonna cum, baby.” You moan, digging your nails into her bicep, leaving dark crescent indents in her skin which she loves.

Suddenly, the pressure in your stomach subsides due to Alex pulling her fingers out, making you whine at the sudden emptiness.

“You’re not gonna cum that easily, sweets. I still have so much I want to do to you.” She says in an uncharacteristically sweet tone while placing a kiss on your cheek.

Both of her hands rub up and down your sides as she kisses from your sternum down to your thigh. She bites at the inside of your skin before soothing the sting with her tongue. Alex looks over and sees your hands clenching and unclenching the sheets below you while your breathing picks up in impatience.

“So beautiful.” She whispers against your thigh before pushing it open with her large hand and latching her mouth onto your core. She lets out a low groan at the taste of you while dipping her tongue into you.

Your hips twitch into her as her tongue laps around your clit, sucking and licking the swollen surface. Your girlfriend’s hands lay flat on your stomach as she pushes her head further into your wet heat. Subconsciously, your legs begin to close in on Alex’s head as the familiar knot in your stomach returns.

Just as your hips begin to rise to your release, the brunette once again detaches herself from you, making your orgasm fade away. Tears start to build up in your eyes in frustration from the denial, but Alex wipes them away with her thumb.

“It’s okay, baby. You’re doing so good for me.” She coos, placing a few pecks on your lips in reassurance. “Do you think you’ve been a good girl?” She asks, pulling you to sit up so you’re both facing each other.

“Yes, yes, I’ve been a good girl.” You nod, nuzzling your face into her neck for some sort of comfort.

“I think so too.” Alex brushes your hair behind your ear once you pull back to look at her. She grabs the back of your neck and brings you into an intoxicating kiss, roaming her tongue inside the roof of your mouth

Alex pulls you onto her lap without breaking the kiss, placing you onto her slanted thighs due to her sitting on her legs. You grind slowly against her, attempting to get some kind of friction as your chest presses up against hers. Your girlfriend smirks into the kiss, feeling your arousal smear across her skin.

She slips two digits back inside of you, curling them into your g-spot. A loud moan escapes your lips as your legs tighten around her waist, causing the heels of your feet to push into her back. Your hands also find their way to her shoulder blades, leaving dark red scratches as she pumps her fingers into you.

“Right there.” You gasp as Alex thrusts her fingers into the perfect spot. The bed frame pounds against the wall from your girlfriend’s digits bouncing in and out of you.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” She whispers into your ear, pressing a sweet kiss under it to your jaw. You quickly nod your head as your eyes squeeze shut with a loud moan, enticing the girl below you to thrust faster.

“I’m gonna, oh god, ‘m gonna cum, baby.”

“Cum for me.”

Your walls clamp around Alex’s fingers as a flow of juices runs down her hand while you moan in ecstasy, grinding down to push you through your orgasm.

Once your hips stop, she pulls her fingers out of you and places them in front of your mouth. You obediently open and suck, licking off all your arousal while swirling your tongue around them. She watches you with blown-out pupils and a slacked jaw.

“If you think we’re done after you just did that, you’re sorely mistaken.” Her arms wrap around her waist and slam you back onto the bed, making you giggle at her riled-up nature.

The next morning you make your way into the breakfast lobby with Alex’s arm around your waist. Right as everyone catches eye on the both of you, a bunch of whistling and whooping sounds through the room.

“Get it, Morgan. Didn’t know you could do all that.” Trinity cheers while smacking on her gum with a smirk.

Everyone gets their little comments in while your girlfriend just smiles smugly and continues to kiss your temple with her arm remaining on your shoulders. In your flustered state, all you do is hide your face into her neck and try to avoid all of the attention.

[me-loving-woso]

Bruises, Apologies and Cookies?

You already know the drill. I don't know what this is. It took me a month to do it and it's not proofread. It's 17k and you have to imagine this as an AU in which Jorge Vilda is not the coach of Spain, but it's in therapy for his misogynistic tendencies and anger issues, and the Italian national team is actually a good team. I really hope you enjoy this.

Prompt: You start to hook up with Alexia, but then you realise you aren't meant to play against one another. (I'm bad at summaries.)

Here is Part 2

-

You were traveling to Barcelona today.

Your team and the Barca team had organized the game for the Gamper trophy, and you couldn’t wait to play against your dream team. Barcelona and Chelsea have always been the team you supported when you were young, even though you were neither Spanish nor English.

You have always loved playing football since you were little. And the fact that you were raised in Italy and were Italian, one of the best countries to experience football, made your love for the sport grow even more. But you knew you couldn’t go far in your country because women’s soccer wasn’t very developed in Italy, so as soon as possible, you decided to leave for the US. There, you studied to become a physiotherapist and played ‘soccer.’

You weren’t known for your speed or physicality but your football IQ and passes. At first, your coach put you as a striker, but then he soon realized that scoring wasn’t your forte. But when one of your teammates in midfield got injured, your coach put you as a defensive midfielder, and the rest was history.

You would control the midfield and give confidence and calmness to the defenders and midfielders; you had a style that reminded people of Busquets.

In college, you met your best friend, who was also Italian. She was your number 1 supporter; she would always come to your games, cheer for you, and support you even when you transferred to your first real club, Atletico Madrid. 

To the world, you were known as one of the cleanest players in La Liga, your timing was always perfect when you tackled someone, and you were able to anticipate the player’s moves so well that, in most cases, you didn’t even have to tackle them, you would snatch the ball away from them before they could pass it to someone else.

This made you one of the only players to never receive a yellow card for a foul. You only received one when you took off your shirt for scoring the winning goal for the Copa de la Reina.

After two outstanding seasons at Atletico, Chelsea called you, but not even after a year did you send in a transfer request, which you never did; you always waited for your contract to finish.

After a disastrous year at Chelsea, you wanted to go back home to Italy, and two clubs from your country showed interest. Roma and Juventus. You never supported Juventus as a child, so the decision was a no-brainer for you. You were back home, playing for a great team and sharing the pitch with your friends from the national team. You signed a contract until 2024, and you would respect it, even though you received many offers from other clubs, one in particular being Barcelona. But whenever the coach of Barca called, you told him about your wish to finish the season with Roma; they respected your decision and said they would try to get you during the summer window.

-

This left you playing the Joan Gamper trophy against your dream team, and you got the impossible task of marking Alexia Putellas. It was the first time that you were playing against her. Over the years, you had the opportunity to play against her, but between injuries or other stuff, you never managed to do that. So you were looking forward to it. 

During the warm-up, you found yourself stealing glances at her; she was even more beautiful in real life. As you saw her train, you tried to find a way in which you could stop her. She was quick, physical, and loved going deep. So the only way to possibly stop her was to anticipate her and not let the ball go over you to her or stop her before she could pass you. You loved a good challenge.

As soon as the game started, Barcelona came at your defense hard, but you wouldn’t let the ball go past you. As soon as you had the ball, you would pass it to one of your teammates or opt for a long pass if your number 9 was free.

Even though you were extremely clean in your tackles and respectful, you were famous for cursing in Italian whenever you had to run; you hated running, and whenever you would recover a ball, you would subtly celebrate in your opponent’s face. You were very competitive in that sense, and you knew that not many opponents went past you, so this furthered, even more, your competitiveness.

In the first minutes of the game, as you analyzed your opponent’s playing style, you realized nobody would dare to move the ball through the center; they knew they wouldn’t get past you, and you smirked at that realization.

The first time you had to mark Alexia was an offside kick for Barcelona; you shielded her with your hands, not making her move. You were shorter than her; you reached her shoulders, so you knew she could physically overwhelm you well enough, so you had to find another way to stop her. She was brilliant when playing. She could see the spaces and know exactly where to place the ball to her teammates, so you knew that distracting her even a second would help you anticipate her and stop her from going forward. 

As she was trying to unmark herself from you, you wanted to distract her by talking in Spanish, “They always call you La Reina because of your skills, and now that I’ve seen you in action, I can confirm that you live up to that nickname.” She slightly blushes.

“It’s not bad having someone like you watching me destroy your team.” She pushes you slightly to show her teammates that she is free. “I must say, though, that you look pretty good out in the field.”

Now it’s your time to blush; you turn your head to face her quickly, turning your neck upwards to look at her hazel eyes, “Flattery won’t get you past me.” You wink. “But I won’t tell you to stop; I like where this is going.”

Her teammates kick the ball, which makes you both go back into game mode.

The second time you talked to her, it was during a corner. They were using her as a decoy to make your team change the positions on the corner kick, but you soon realized that, and you went to mark her “You know, I think I’m actually enjoying this game more because I’m playing against you.”

“Is that so? I’m glad you are enjoying this. But don’t think I don’t know you are trying to distract me.”

“Me? I would never distract you in any way!” You act offended, putting your hand on your heart.

“Then you are secretly trying to win my heart.” She smirks, taking her eyes off the ball and looking at yours.

“Well, if winning your heart gets me a victory on the field, consider it a strategic move.” You remark, grinning as you see the captain of the other team a fraction of a second distracted, making the ball perfectly fall into your feet.

With a calculated movement, you dribble past her while she gives you a shocked look and sends a perfect ball to your teammate, who starts the counterattack. Nobody was expecting that, so your number nine, Giacinti, ran all the length of the pitch without any dangerous opponents, leaving her only with Paños. She scored, and you were finally 1-1.

As soon as she scored, you could see that Alexia’s expression changed sorrowfully as she blamed herself for the goal while you screamed, running to your teammate who had just scored.

As soon as you get on your field to restart the match, you walk past her, and she shakes her head sarcastically, “I thought I was good at playing mind games, but you, you’re on a whole new level.”

She walked past you, “Mind games? Nah, I’m just enjoying the company of a certain someone on the field.” You remark innocently.

After 45 minutes of intense battle between you and Alexia, in which you basically won all of them, Alexia became increasingly irritated. She was getting more sloppy and aggressive, but you expected that, so whenever you had the ball or just snatched it from her, you would pass it to one of your teammates as soon as possible.

The first half of the game ended, and you returned to the dressing room. You were still on a draw, so you only needed a goal to shock Spain and win the Gamper trophy, which was your objective. So during the break, you strategized ways to score that damn goal. After the 15-minute break, you returned to the pitch and knew what to do.

Roma was starting the second half. Giacinti passed you the ball from the center of the pitch immediately after the whistle, and she began her run. You stopped the ball and kicked it high, precisely where she needed it. She had only to dribble past Ona Batlle to score and did it perfectly. 

For now, you were winning, and you could see that Barcelona was getting even more frustrated. They needed to win that trophy; it was their trophy. 

You again found yourself in the same position as the corner kick-off. Alexia was outside the area, and you were marking her again. “If you get past me, I’ll let you swap shirts.” You smirk arrogantly. 

“You’ll let me?” She chuckles ironically, not making the same mistake and, this time, focusing on the ball.

“Yes, I’ll let you.” You wink at her, putting your arm on her chest, trying to put yourself in front of her. You swear you could hear her heart beat a little faster.

“Are you sure you are okay? I swear I could hear your heart beat faster.” You tease her.

She blushes, forcefully removing your arm from her, “You are making it really hard for me to focus, and it’s not just because of the game.”

“Oh really? Maybe I’m just trying to give you a good reason to remember this match and me.”

“You wish.”

“Joking aside, do you wanna swap shirts after the match?” You quickly glance at her.

“You’ll get to see my shirt every day next season.” She raises her eyebrow knowingly.

“Wait, you know?”

“Of course, I know; I was the one that suggested you to the coach.”

“Really?” You smile dumbly at her, a mistake nearly costing you a goal. She manages to get the ball and throws a beautiful cross, which thankfully was stopped by your defender Linari. You sigh in relief and get back to the game. 

The game was getting more and more aggressive as time was running out. You didn’t know how, but you were still winning. As you were waiting to intercept a long pass from your ex-teammate from Atletico, Mapi Leon, Alexia was trying to anticipate it.

You managed to quickly control the ball, and with your first touch, you passed it to Giugliano. Still, she didn’t see that you already had given the ball away because she raised her knee to try to control the ball, but there was no ball to control. Instead, she hit you where it would hurt the most: right on your groin. It hurt. It really hurt. You wouldn’t expect it to hurt that much when you were a girl, but it did hurt. So much so that you skipped a breath and mumbled in your mother language words that you wouldn’t repeat. The game was still ongoing, but you needed a minute, and Alexia noticed that. 

“Hey, are you okay?” She asks worriedly, putting your hand on your shoulder while you are crouching down.

“Alexia, you didn’t hit the ball. And you got a powerful leg, I must say.” You sit down on the grass, visibly in pain. Your captain, Bartoli, noticed that, and she soon stopped the game and went to you.

“Tutto bene?”

“Si mi serve solo un secondo, questa qui- pointing to Alexia- mi ha dato un calcio.”

“Dove?”

“Nella figa,” You say, putting your hands over your head while your skipper laughs.

“Cazzo ti ridi.” You say, laughing too at the situation. Then, some of your teammates swarmed you, pushing Alexia away, who took a step back embarrassingly.

As your skipper told everyone what happened, some other teammates started laughing, making the tension of the match crack. You show the finger to all the teammates who laughed at you, still in pain. 

“Riesci ad andare avanti?” The defender asks you, trying to keep a straight face.

“Si, si dammi solo un minuto, andate pure.” Your teammates slowly return to their positions, and Alexia approaches you. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t think I hit you that hard.” She gives out a hand for you to grab to help you stand up to your feet.

“Don’t worry about it. It has always been a dream of mine for a hot woman to hit me on the groin.” You chuckle sarcastically, clearly not understanding what you have just said.

“You think I’m hot?” She grins while you clean off the dirt from your shirts.

“So not the point.” You say while returning back to your position. 

The match went on more fluidly, with your team more defending rather than attacking; you unconsciously avoided Alexia all game, swapping marks with one of your teammates for Aitana, which wasn’t at all that better, but at least she didn’t make you feel all hot and confused as the captain of the other team did. Eventually, you did lose the game, 3 to 2, but you thought this was a great way to begin the season.

As you went into the dressing room to get ready for a night out with your friend, you heard the cleats of a person behind you. You turn around, and your body winces, reminding you of the pain that you experienced earlier.

“Hey!” She walks up to you, still dressed from the match.

“Hey.” You reply awkwardly.

“Soo.” She crosses her arms and begins rocking her legs. “You said that if I got past you, you would swap shirts with me.” She smiles innocently, waiting for your reply.

“Well, that was before you made me lose the capacity to have children.” You say dramatically.

“Okay, that’s a little too dramatic. I didn’t mean to hurt you; I honestly thought that I was hitting the ball.” She says sorrowfully, looking down.

“Well, you didn’t.” You chuckle. Making her laugh.

“What were your teammates laughing about earlier?”

“I just told them what had happened. I would have laughed too if I wasn’t in so much pain.”

“Why would you? You were hurt!” She returns her gaze to you while you give her a shy smile.

“Well, you would laugh too if someone like Leo Messi would hit you in the groin like that. Even though I deeply doubt it.”

“So you think I’d have a future as a kickboxer?”

“Definitely.” You beam at her, clearly entranced by her. She was slightly biting her lips in an attempt to shy a smile; you thought to yourself that she had really gorgeous eyes. 

“So the jersey…” She suggests clearly understanding that you were slightly zoned out. You blush, a little embarrassed, and take off your shirt quickly, folding it, and then you hand it to her. 

“It’s a little dirty; I’m sorry.”

“You just ran on the pitch for over 90 minutes; you don’t have to apologize.” She takes it from you as her fingers lightly brush yours. What you noticed was that her hands were warm. It felt weird to you, as most people in your life had cold or sweaty hands, which you hated, but hers were different. They exuded this feeling of comfort that made you miss her touch as soon as she took the jersey from you.

You blink once, trying to return to the real world, waiting for her shirt. 

“Am I going back to Roma empty-handed?” You joke, while she was most definitely not looking at you in the eyes but more at your body, making you feel a little self-conscious.

“Oops, sorry.” She quickly removes her jersey, but as she is about to remove it, she stops, “Now this is embarrassing. I’m stuck.”

You chuckle, standing on your tippy toes, “Can I help you?”

“Yes, please.” You raise your hands, take the hem of her shirt, and pull it up; as soon as her head is free, her eyes lock in with yours, making you gulp slightly at the intense eye contact, lowering your feet, clearly showing the prominent height difference.

“Thank you.” She whispers, never taking her eyes off you. Your mind was getting hazier for every blink of your eyes, and you felt your cheeks redden. You thought you needed to take a step back to recompose yourself and clear that haze in your brain, but something about how she looked at you made you not move for even an inch. “How long are you staying in Barcelona?”

“Tomorrow, we are leaving.” You tell her truthfully without thinking, nor blinking, for that matter.

“What are you doing tonight?” She asks you seriously, moving her gaze dangerously close to your lips.

“I’m going out with Mapi and some of your teammates. We wanted to catch up, and she wanted me to meet some of you guys and her girlfriend.” You say, never moving your gaze from her; you couldn’t.

“ISo we’ll see each other there. And after that?” Her expression exuded an energy that you couldn’t quite understand

“What?”

“What are you doing after that?” She speaks more clearly, enunciating every word.

“I’ll probably go back to the hotel and sleep.” You reply honestly.

“I want to make it up to you. Will you let me do that?” She asks shyly, softening her gaze a little.

You, dumb as you are, don’t get what she was suggesting, making you, for the first time, take your eyes off hers and look down, which uncoincidentally was her chest. Still, right now, it doesn’t concern you that much. “You don’t have to; I know it wasn’t on purpose.” You reply innocently.

What actually concerned you was how nonchalantly, with her index finger, she gently raised your chin, making you look at her again, making you want to giggle from the nervousness.

“Are you sure?” She smirks, clearly understanding the effect that she was having on you.

The following words were some of the most honest words that ever came out of your mouth. “No, I’m not sure.”

She chuckles, “Give me your phone.” She tells you rather than ask you, making you once again be sure about your sexuality.

“It’s in the locker room.”

“Go get it.” She instructs you while she leans against the wall, still shirtless. She clearly knew what she was doing and why she was doing it.

You reply with a short nod, and without saying anything, you walk to the dressing room, your body on autopilot, with your brain still not functioning correctly. You get in the locker room and are soon swarmed by your team congratulating you, but you only have a task in mind: get the phone to Alexia. So, after some short answers, you quickly return to the hallway, searching for the woman.

She had your shirt around your neck with her back on the wall and followed your movements with her eyes, never taking her gaze off you.

You put yourself in front of her, taking her hand from her sides and placing your phone. She turns on the phone and sees your lock screen; it is a picture of your dog. “Cute dog.” She comments while she hands you back the phone so you can type the password. Then you hand it back to her, and she puts her number in your phone.

“If you are not too tired after we go out for drinks with the team if you want, we can do something else later.” She gives you a soft smile, giving you back your phone.

“Something else like what?” You tease her; riling her up is becoming one of your favorite things.

“Anything you are up to.” Raising her eyebrows, you place your hand on her stomach, gently scratching her skin. She stiffens at the contact but then relaxes, giving you a soft smile.

“What makes you think I am going to say yes?” You once again tease her.

“By your willingness to give me your phone and your hand placement.” She smirks while you retract your hand from her almost unconsciously, feeling the heat of your slight embarrassment settle on your face.

She opens her legs to reach your height, and with a small tug, she makes you come closer to her. She takes you by your sides, gently stroking the skin with her thumb. You were rather small-built, and she had big hands, which you were modestly and unceremoniously obsessed about. Her sudden pull on her made you stumble slightly, making you place your hands on her shoulders to stabilize yourself.

“So, what do you say? Will you let me take you out tonight?” You gently massage the back of her neck while playing with her baby hair.

“I’ll let you know.” You remove yourself from her, already missing the contact, and return to your teammates, leaving her in the hallway.

As soon as you sit in your cubby, you open your phone to see if she isn’t lying and actually put her phone number in your contacts. She did. In style, you could say. She saved herself as Your Favourite Kickboxer ;). That woman had some nerve, you thought, but it made you chuckle in surprise a little too loud, which got the attention of some of your teammates. They began asking you why you took so long to return to the locker room or were smiling dumbly at your phone. You soon shut down any suggestive questions and went in for a shower, making your friends more and more curious.

As soon as you leave the locker room, you meet Mapi and her girlfriend outside the pitch; between hugs and greetings, you enter their car and begin driving to a local bar with them. But before entering the place, you cannot not bring yourself not to text the woman who had been on your mind since the beginning of the day.

‘So you are my favorite kickboxer?” ‘I must say you got some nerve. The first time we met, you kicked me in the groin, and then you already put the salt into the wound.’

‘I had to find a way to make you recognize me.’ She replies almost immediately

‘I don’t know many, Alexias.’

‘Where would the fun be if I only put my name on it?’

‘Fair enough. Now I have a place I need to be. I’ll see you later?’

‘And I have a dog to feed. Yes, I’ll be there in 20 minutes.’

You were ordering some drinks and food while most of her teammates came to the bar and introduced themselves to you. But you were only waiting for someone who made you feel more today than any other girl in the last couple of years. 

“So, what happened with Alexia during the match?” Patri, one of your friend’s teammates, asks you.

“Yeah! I thought it was something serious, but then I saw your teammates burst out laughing, so I didn’t worry too much. Alexia was mortified, though.” Mapi adds, making the conversations shift towards you, waiting for you to answer.

“She didn’t tell you?”

“Oh no, she didn’t. She was very frustrated; you basically turned her into a beginner.” Your friend jokes, earning approval from her teammates, praising your skills.

So you tell them what happened, to make some wince, while your friend who has known you for years now releases a surprised chuckle.

“So that is why your teammates were laughing?”

“Yes, they are assholes. You too.” 

“I’m not laughing at you.” She reassures you. “Alexia has never been that clumsy; she must have been distracted.” She raises her eyebrow knowingly.

“I wasn’t distracted; I just thought the ball was still in the air.” You see a figure approach your table, making many heads turn around to see their captain. Her aura made it evident that she was their leader. As if she had this mask on, which showed her subtle leadership, making you smirk thinking that earlier that day, when you saw glimpses of a different Alexia that probably they didn’t see.

“Good game today, Y/n right?” She extends her arm for you to shake her hand. You innocently take it, thinking that if she wanted to play the game that you were strangers and that literally two hours before didn’t grab you by your waist nor kept looking at your lips, you would comply and play her same game.

“Thank you, Alessia, right?”

“It’s Alexia.” She said, a little irritated, still keeping her hand in yours.

“Oh, sorry, you know me, still working on my Spanish.” You wink at her, with both of you knowing that you did that on purpose.

After your ‘introduction’ to Alexia, the team divided into little groups, making you sit with Mapi and Ingrid, who were the real reasons you were there, and Keira and Lucy, whom you had already met playing against them during your time at Chelsea.

“So when are you coming to Barcelona?” Your friends ask you excitedly.

“What makes you think I want you again as a teammate?” You tease her, making her face turn into a shocked expression. Making the other people at the table chuckle at your witty reply.

“Well, Barcelona has always been your dream. We were supposed to transfer together that year, but you abandoned me for Chelsea.” 

“And I still regret it to this day.” You smile sadly, playing with your food. The year you transferred to Chelsea was one of the worst years of your life; you hated talking about it. It nearly destroyed both your career and yourself. “But the past is in the past, and I still have a contract with Roma.”

“Which will expire in 2024…” Your friend suggests making your room your eyes playfully at her. Making her girlfriend give her a warning look.

“Yes. I am well aware of my contract obligations.”

“So, Y/n.” Ingrid tries to change the subject of the conversation. “Are you single? Boyfriend, OR girlfriend?” You see Alexia from across the bar subtly turn her attention towards your table, waiting for your answer, making you internally chuckle.

“Me? No. I got traumatized.” You laugh to not cry. It was still a sore spot for you; your previous relationship ended badly for you, and you would be lying if it didn't make you more adamant about beginning a new one.

You saw people give you a puzzled look, so you explained what you had just said, “I was in a relationship with this woman for more than four years, but then we ended terms badly. But now I’m great! I’m focusing on my career, and I have a dog, so I’m good!” You try to lighten up the mood; you would hate yourself if the mods of the people around you would change because of you.

“You have a dog?” Lucy asks you excitedly. You quickly take off your phone and show her your lock screen with a picture of Argo, your dog. The fact that you had a dog created a lot of attention towards you; the team swarmed your phone to see the picture, making you chuckle shyly at all the attention given to you.

As the night progressed, you and Alexia would often find each other’s eyes and would share a small smile, something that made you look forward to the next interaction that you would have with her.

You didn’t exactly know what was going on between the two of you; she was making you confused, but at the same time, she made your heart flutter whenever you caught her looking at you.

You didn’t know what it was about her tonight, but you thought she looked stunning. Maybe it was the fact that she wore this comfortableness to her actions that made you want to bask in her aura, or perhaps it was the fact that she wore her hair down, and you literally turned into a gay panic for any pretty girl. Realistically, it was more the latter option.

As many of the girls went home or went to get drinks, this left you the opportunity to be alone with Alexia for the first time in the night. When you sat beside her, she was checking something on her phone, and you decided to make the first move. 

“Hey.” You utter, almost whispering. She takes her eyes off her phone and smiles.

“Hey, you. Are you having fun with your future teammates?” She raises her eyebrows knowingly.

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Everybody thinks I’ll become a Barça player, but what if instead I’ll become a Lyon player?” You joke, both knowing that you would never do that. “But yes, I’m having fun, even though there is someone who has been on my mind all evening.”

She looks around to see if anyone is watching your interactions and then leans closer.

“Oh really? Who is this person?” 

“Well, she is very tall, at least for me, and extremely stunning, and did I mention she has a really pretty smile? Oh, She has really beautiful eyes that, if you look closely enough, you can see some shades of green here and there. And, of course, she has a very powerful left leg.”

“I’ll let you know if I find her. For now, you are stuck with me.” 

“Too bad. I really wanted to ask her something.”

“What did you want to ask her?”

“Well, a question has been burning in my mind for the whole evening.”

“Which is?”

“Wouldn’t you want to know?” You tease her as Mapi and Ingrid come back to the table and begin a conversation with the both of you about her cat; then you hear the sound of your phone; you really hoped it wasn’t your coach wondering where you were.

You didn’t expect a text from the person in front of you.

Your Favourite Kickboxer ;)

‘Meet me in the bathroom’

You look at her, slightly puzzled, but she spurs you on with her eyes. She stands up from the table and excuses herself to go to the bathroom, thus beginning your thoughts on what justification to find to excuse herself from the table.

If you said that you had to go to the bathroom too, it felt like it would be weird, but if you threw a glass of water at yourself, it would be deemed as overdoing. Amid the panic, as you feel that time is running out, you do the second option and try accidentally throwing your glass of water on your hands. For your delusional mind, you thought that your plan actually worked perfectly, whereas for the other two people at the table, it just felt confusing and unnecessary.

You quickly go to the bathroom to dry your hands when you feel two hands sneak up on your waist from behind and perfume that is completely intoxicating you. You turn around with your hands leaning on the sink and finally see the woman consuming every fiber of your being just with her gaze. It was hungry, but at the same time, it transmitted this softness that totally fucked up your brain, not understanding clearly her intentions. But you didn’t care as of right now; that would be a problem for the future you. 

“Took you long enough.” She chuckles gently, caressing your clothed waist. 

“I had to find a way to excuse myself.” You put your hands on her shoulders, eliminating more space between the two of you, turning your lips in a soft grin when you saw her hunching a little her back to better look at you.

“Come home with me tonight.” She whispers earnestly while she slots her leg between yours, coming impossibly closer to you. Only a few inches divided you from her, her lips from yours. You didn’t drink that evening but felt utterly intoxicated by her. Everything about her made you want to throw caution out the window or, given the setting, down the sink.

You couldn’t speak. At least not something coherent, so you slowly nodded. Her lips were mere centimeters from yours, making you want so badly and so needily to close that unnecessary space and finally taste her. You thought she was reading your mind because your noses touched, making her wait for you to do the final step. 

You put your hand on her chest, “As much as I want to kiss you.” She released a low moan, making you shiver and forget your train of thought. “As much as I want to kiss you because I really do.” She lets her head fall over your shoulders, lightly kissing your neck, making a shiver course through your body, filling with goosebumps in the area. “We have friends to go back to.”

“Mmm mmm.” She goes back to kissing your neck, lightly pulling your hair to move your head to give her better access, which you obviously grant her.

“Alexia.” You warn her weakly. You were really enjoying what she was doing to you.

“Ten more seconds.” She muffles while she moves her hands all over your waist, shoulders, and back, trying to take you all in, not wanting to let go of the moment.

After at least half a minute, you warn her once again. “Alexia.”

You feel her inhale by the tickling on your neck that the air to her lungs was causing. She turns her head to look at you and then quickly pecks the corner of your lips.

“I’m done.” She quickly goes out of the bathroom, leaving you frozen in the spot recounting what just happened, still feeling her hands and lips on you.

You turn around to the sink and wash your face to sober up. It didn’t work. And you went back inside the bar.

Mapi was paying the check for her and Ingrid, “Oh hey. We are about to leave. Is it okay for you?”

“Oh, don’t worry. Alexia offered to bring me back to the hotel; she told me that she had to go that way to get to her house, so it would not be a problem for her. Plus, I know you live on the opposite side of where I’m staying.”

“Are you sure? Because for me, it’s not a problem.” She asks.

“I’m sure.” You reassure her. You saw Alexia getting her stuff and yours. “I’ll see you during National Break?” You tell her, hugging her tightly, that you missed being on the same team as her.

“Don’t do anything stupid, okay?” She advises you, making you subconsciously look at Alexia, who is talking to Ingrid.

“Me? Never.”

You go to Ingrid, hug her goodbye, and tell her it was a pleasure to have met her. Then Alexia hands you your stuff. And you go to her car together.

In the car, the air filled with a kind of tension that you couldn’t quite grasp. Less than eight hours ago, you didn’t even know each other, but somehow, the ride to her house wasn’t awkward. It was full of anticipation for what was about to come. “How long have you known Mapi?” She tries to break the silence, genuinely curious about how you know her friend and teammate.

“We played for Atletico Madrid together, became fast friends, and have been in contact ever since. It was true what she said; we were meant to transfer together in 2017. We loved playing together. But then life got in the way.”

“You know, it’s so weird that our teams have played so many times against each other, even in Champions League games or Euros, but today was the first time we actually played against each other.” She points out, never moving her eyes from the road.

“Well, look how it played out.” You joke. 

“I already apologized many times, actually. But I already told you I’ll make it up to you.” She smirks, placing her hand on your thigh, drawing little shapes on your jeans.

“I wonder how.” You whisper to yourself, focusing on the hand that is right now inching closer and closer to your center.

As soon as you get to her home, and as she opens the door to her house, you make her turn around to you, and you pin her against the door; with your hands on her muscular waist, keeping her there, you go on your tippy toes, and for the first time during the night, you kiss her. It was soft and made her understand how much you wanted this, almost reassuring. You could see that she was nervous during the car ride, and you wanted to take some of it away. Honestly, you were nervous, too.

You usually weren’t one for hookups; you’d always preferred to have something serious or nothing at all. But there was something about her that made you change that idea.

You knew it was wrong, that after that night, you would probably see her again on the pitch, and knowing what you were doing now would distract you. But she was there, looking beautiful as always, clinging to you, with her hands covering your cheeks, making the consequences worth it.

“That was definitely worth waiting for.” She chuckles, putting your foreheads together. “Let’s get inside.” She utters, almost whispering, taking you by the hand and bringing you inside her home. She closes the door and pushes you to the wall, covering your body with hers. Her hands were roaming everywhere as she brought you into a searing kiss. Her perfume intoxicated your nostrils, and all your senses had become her. You lose yourself in her sensations as she picks you up from the ground as if you weighed nothing, and you wrap your legs around her. You stop the kiss to look at her. She was beautiful. She was wearing a contagious smile that contrasted her blown-out pupils; this softness of her, even during these moments, made you go crazy. 

 “Take me to your bedroom.” You whisper softly, placing a soft peck on her lips.

-

As you lay on her bed in pure carnal bliss, looking at the wall, you thought you were hallucinating. She was actually there, and this was happening, or better, it had just happened. And as you lay there, you thought you were happy. Maybe it was just her or the fact that she had just given you more than an orgasm, something that hadn’t happened for more than two years since you broke up with your ex-girlfriend. 

You were still in your head, which worried the woman lying beside you a little. She shifts to your side and puts a hand on your waist, giving you soothing strokes to ask for your attention. You turn your head, snapping out of your thoughts.

“You okay?” She wonders, furrowing her eyebrows, worried that she had taken things too far. You hated seeing that expression on her, so you kissed her lips, trying to convey all your feelings instantly.

You thought it was an awful lot of emotions for a simple hookup, but that was a problem for a future you.

“I’m great.” You reassure her, shifting, laying on her side, and indulging in some cuddling. She drew patterns on your back while you ran up and down with your fingers through the middle of her chest, making her sigh contently. It wasn’t a touch with any malicious or sexual motive but a way to touch and memorize her body. To never forget the fantastic night that she has given to you.

She brings you closer to her, and your lips meet again. It was the softest kiss that she had given you. You get on top of her, pulling her hands on your back until they reach your breasts, making her understand what was on your mind.

-

That morning, you woke up with your hair disheveled and a nasty headache. You hadn’t slept at all, and you were clearly late.

You look at the clock and curse to yourself. Alexia was still sleeping peacefully beside you, lying on her front, showing all her tattoos on the back. You caress her muscular back, trying to wake her up. This might be a hookup, but you weren’t an asshole, so you would at least wake her to tell her that you would leave, and frankly, you didn’t want to intrude; she might have places to be.

“Ale. Svegliati.” You whisper, making her twitch her eyes, slowly waking up. She opens her eyes to see her surroundings, then closes them again, and her face adorns with the most relaxed smile you have ever seen. You thought you didn’t know someone more cute than she was right now. 

“Hey.” Her voice was still raspy and low, and she had no intention to move from her position. “We fell asleep.” She points out. You were meant to leave around 2 AM to return to the hotel so that nobody would notice you were gone. But now it was too late. It was already morning, and at 10 AM, you needed to take the bus to leave for the airport.

She gets up from the bed and goes to the bathroom, still naked, making you glance at her body hopelessly. You get dressed, putting on the same clothes you had on the night before, when she gets back in the room, with clothes on this time, and sit next to you, putting some shoes on.

“So breakfast?” She asks casually, while you stare at her dumbly, not expecting that question. More expecting her to kick you out of the house. 

“Well, it’s the least you could do.” She continues, almost as if she was stating the obvious. “After all we did last night, we don’t have to act like strangers.” She explains shyly.

“How about coffee?” You offer instead, with both of you clearly not wanting to let each other go. “I really have to be back at the hotel. Actually, I should have been there two hours ago.”

“Sorry. I completely forgot to put the alarm on. Usually, I sleep in after a match.”

“Don’t worry about it. You have already made it up to me enough last night.” You joke, making her crack a smile.

“I had a really good time last night.” She hides her face, turning her head down to look at her shoes.

“Me too.” You reply, placing a hand on her knee. 

“So, coffee?” She turns to you, hopefully.

You slowly nod, standing up and waiting for her to lead. She takes you to this small coffee shop near her house with her dog. Which you finally met, as you were a little too occupied last night to properly meet her.

She brings you coffee at the table, and you fall into a very peaceful conversation that people who have known each other for a long time would have. It was as if you had just clicked. There was no awkwardness, just conversations flowing simply and carelessly. She offers to bring you back to the hotel.

You hug her awkwardly, saying you would see her again during the national break for the scrimmage against Spain, the first game after winning the World Cup.

As you quickly snuck up to your room, hoping nobody from your team would see you, you had a quick shower to wash off the night before and pack up your stuff, clearly focusing a little more on putting away the shirt you swapped with Alexia. As you looked in the mirror, you saw the heavy bags under your eyes. You were sleep-deprived, so you put some sunglasses on to hide it from your curious teammates.

As you are on the way to the bus, you reminisce the night before and mentally curse yourself for all the feelings that you put aside during the whole day for the future you, which coincidentally was you of now. 

You were the last to go inside the bus, making your teammates tease you and whistle jokingly to you, making small comments like “Rough night?” Or “Did you have fun?”

You sit next to your usual roommate, still with your sunglasses on and about to put your headphones in, when she turns to you expectantly.

“So, how was your night out.” Air quoting the last part, giving you a knowing grin.

“It was good. How was your night.” You ask innocently.

“Cut the crap! You have your sunglasses on, you didn’t come back to the room tonight, and you have a slight limp. Who is it? Is it your defender, friend? Or is it someone else from the group?” She wonders curiously, making you roll your eyes at her and sigh loudly, clearly showing her your annoyance.

“A, I did come back to the hotel! You were just asleep!” You try to sound as convincing as possible. “B, Mapi is in a relationship, and she is like my sister! I would never hook up with her!” 

“So there was someone.” She smirks.

“I didn’t say that. You’re just going crazy. Did you eat some hallucinating mushrooms? Did you think that they were normal mushrooms, but instead, they tasted strange?”

“You’re an idiot. But whatever you did last night, I hope you had fun.”

“I didn’t do anything out of the normal stuff you do when you go out with your friends. But yes, it was nice. Now I’ll sleep.”

-

It was a national break, which meant that you were in Roma, this time, to train with your fellow national teammates. After your underwhelming World Cup and Euros run, you just got a new coach to train your squad. You really hoped that she would be better than the last one.

You were on the training pitch joking and laughing with your other teammates, juggling and passing the ball to each other, when she came on the pitch, making everyone stop in their place looking at her.

As she introduced herself to everyone, you could already see that she was not there to joke around. She was serious and precisely decided her words, but she was passionate about her new job.

“We have two weeks to prepare for the friendly against Spain. I want to create a team with a good mix of experience and fresh talent. All of you are talented girls, but I want to see you in action to create an efficient and strong team.”

The three captains go up to her and introduce themselves and the squad. While you began to juggle the ball to keep your mind off the current situation. You always hated when you changed coach; you thought you needed to prove yourself to them to be accepted in the squad, making you completely doubt your capabilities.

What made you nervous was that she wanted to rejuvenate the squad. Your previous coach tried to do that, but she failed miserably. Many great players were left out of the roster that you could’ve definitely used in the World Cup, so you really hoped that her plan was better than the other’s coach, hoping that she wouldn’t take you off the roster. 

So you gave it your all in practice, trying to impress her and, at the same time, prove to yourself that you deserved to be there. Even running laps without complaining, shocking your teammates, as it had become an inside joke that you wouldn’t run even if the world was ending. Which wasn’t quite right. Yes, you hated running, but on the pitch, you gave it your all.

They called you the female version of Daniele De Rossi since you played in Roma and had his number on, and sometimes gave you the same nickname as him, Capitan Futuro, because of your leadership and tenacity, even though when people looked at your style, they were more reminded of Pirlo’s or Busquets. But he still remained your idol. 

As soon as you finished practice, you were about to leave the pitch when the coach called you to come to her, making your heartbeat from the nervousness. 

“Y/n, come here for a second.” She made you a sign with your hand, and you ran up to her.

“Hey, Mister.” You smile politely at her, crossing your arms.

“Good job today, I have to say-“

“That I didn’t make it to the team? I know. I am a very particular player, so I get it if you want to have someone that better fits your team. I get it; I’ll pack my stuff.” You ramble quickly out of nervousness.

The coach chuckles at your antiques, “Rule number 1, Y/n. Never underestimate yourself. If you think you don’t deserve to be here, then you shouldn’t.” She says seriously, making you unconsciously straighten your back.

“I know; it’s just you are known as a brutal coach who doesn’t care about others’ opinions and is known to make very bold choices. I know that I deserve to be here; I’ve always been on the starting 11 in any important match, when not injured, of course. It’s a great honor to work with you.” You praise her, trying to make up for the bad impression.

“Likewise. But I have to ask.” She begins while studying you curiously.

“Sure, ask away.”

“Why are you here at Roma when you could be anywhere else? Who can actually give you the chance to use your full potential?” She asks so directly, making you blink twice.

“What, sorry?”

“I know that Barcelona, Lyon, Chelsea, and Arsenal all wanted you and actually offered big money to Roma for you, but you always declined. I wonder why, that’s it. I just think you are wasting your prime here.”

“I have a contract with Roma until 2024, then I’ll decide my future. As for the teams, I know that they are interested. Barcelona phones my agent almost every year. But I already informed them that I won’t accept any offer until the end of the season. I feel like I would let down the club. I told them that I would be there until 2024, so I’ll be there until 2024. It’s the least I could do after everything they did for me.”

She raises her eyebrow, amused, “Well, that didn’t happen for Chelsea. I followed your career and thought you were having a great season with the club.”

“I left Chelsea for personal reasons.” You turn your head skeptically. “With all due respect, coach, why are my career choices that important?”

“I just want to understand if I am going to make the right choice.”

“What choice?”

“You, Y/n, are going to be my new team captain.”

-

As soon as you go to the locker room, you go to your three team captains and ask them for an explanation.

“You know, they want to strip off your captaincy.” You say, wearing a disgusted expression to Cristiana Girelli. “You cannot let her do that! It’s disrespectful.” You say angrily.

“Y/n, look at me. I told her I wanted to step back from the national team. I’m getting older, and my time has already come. This is a new era. And you are the perfect skipper. They call you the Capitan Futuro for a reason.”

“But what about Barbara? And Elena? They are too, the captains.” You say sadly, clearly not wanting to take their place.

“Barbara decided to step down from the national team like me. Elena thought that you were the right choice as a skipper. She’s going to be your co-captain. We’ve already arranged everything. You just have to say yes.” You always looked up to Cristiana; she was your mentor, especially in the national team. If you were the player you are today, it was partly because of her.

“Do you think I could be a good skipper?” You ask her shyly, “I’ve never been an actual captain; with Roma, I’m the third, but the actual one? Do I make the cut for it?” You hated yourself for being this insecure.

She takes you by the shoulders. “You, Y/n, transmit something when you are on the pitch that not many people do. You make the team more calm and lucid. Knowing that you are back there allows everyone to be more free on the pitch. You are our most important player, on and off the pitch. So the armband is yours. You deserve it.” She gives you a reassuring hug, “Now go back to change; you are all sweaty!”

-

As the two weeks passed, you were really happy with the coach and the team. When the team found out that you would lead them, they were ecstatic, making you a little more comfortable with your new position.

The Spanish team would arrive two days before the match, and you were happy to see Mapi again and extremely stressed out to see Alexia. You didn’t talk or text after the night that you shared together; you both followed each other on Instagram, which you were stalking daily, but you didn’t give much thought to that.

You weren’t a simp. Especially for a girl that you have seen only for a day. You had some self-respect. That is what you were trying to convince yourself to believe. So you told yourself that you would avoid her at all costs. You were the skipper now, and you had to be extremely focused.

The plan failed miserably when you asked Mapi two nights before the match to meet up at a place for some drinks. She had never been to Roma and wanted to visit the city. What you didn’t expect was for her to invite some of her teammates. It’s not the fact that there were other people with you because you loved the Spanish girls, especially the ones from Barcelona, as you had already hung out with them previously.

Still, you were really scared of meeting Alexia again. Your fear turned out to be plausible because of the five players there, Alexia was one of them.

During the afternoon, you showed the Spanish girls, Roma, while they teased you, saying that you were almost better as a tour guide than a football player. They didn’t know you were making stuff up along the way, trying to act cool and knowledgeable.

You could see that Alexia would sometimes look at you, as her gaze would pierce holes at the back of your skull, but whenever your eyes would meet, you would soon avoid her gaze. You told yourself to avoid her, and that is what you did. What was more painful, though, was that she would look like a kicked puppy, making you feel very guilty for what you were doing.

After walking for a while, the girls wanted to try the typical ‘Aperitivo’ famous worldwide, so you brought them to a little place with a great view that you knew wouldn’t disappoint. They all ordered Aperol Spritz, apart from you, making them look at you a little puzzled.

“Oh, I don’t drink that much.” You explain while Mapi raises an eyebrow and chuckles.

“Okay, I usually don’t drink during the season.” She raises her eyebrow again.

“I only drink on special occasions.” Eying Mapi for making you sound like an alcoholic.

“When we won La Liga in 2017, we went out to party, and she didn’t hold back.” She glances at her, trying to make her understand to stop talking.

“And we are done with the conversation now. So, how’s Barça?”

You begin to share stories and funny anecdotes about your respective clubs, making you really happy to have decided to spend the afternoon with them. They were a tight group, and you could see that they deeply cared for one another.

As you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, you quickly clean your hands, thinking about some random stuff, when your thoughts were interrupted by the door of the women’s bathroom swinging, finding yourself in front of you, the person you were categorically avoiding.

“Alexia, Hi!” You say, still a little shocked. She was still at the door, clearly trying to make some space between the two of you. She closes the door and then turns to you, crossing her arms.

“Are you avoiding me?” She asks you to wear this vulnerability, which is very uncharacteristic. Making you want to do anything to reassure her that it wasn’t true and make her feel better. You hated seeing her like this. But you were avoiding her.

“I-I.” You didn’t know how to reply.

“Because it’s very annoying, especially when we decided to be civil about this and not act like strangers. If you have a problem, that’s on you.” She was irritated and had every right to be; you were acting like an asshole, and she didn’t do anything to deserve that treatment. She was about to leave when you gently grabbed her hand,

“I’m sorry, okay? I just wasn’t expecting you to be here today. And you come here looking like this. It’s not helping.”

“Looking like what?” She takes a step closer to you, wearing a proud smirk. 

“Stop looking at me like that.” She was making you go crazy; your mind was hazy, fully intoxicated by her.

“Like what?” 

“Like you’ve seen me naked.” You reply. She replies, only smirking more and raising her eyebrows. She has seen you naked, and she was acknowledging that. She was coming closer to you, making you retreat to the wall.

“Alexia…” You warn her once. She knew that it wouldn’t stop her because you were enjoying this. “We have to act like professionals.” She took you by the waist and began kissing your neck. “This. It is not professional. It’s wrong.” You barely utter, trying to contain any sign that you are enjoying this. Which you were. So damn much.

“Your heartbeat says otherwise.” She gives you a kiss where you are most sensitive on the neck. She still remembered. Making you shiver. “Your skin tells me otherwise. It’s covered in goosebumps.” She leaves a small kiss till she reaches the back of your ear, whispering, “Tell me to stop, and I will.” 

You couldn’t reply. She was right. You didn’t want her to stop. You missed how her kisses made you feel, how her perfume intoxicated all of your senses, or how her hands, warm and comforting hands would roam all over your body in search of new skin to touch. She was lighting a fire that you knew you couldn’t put out. And frankly, you didn’t want to; you wanted that fire to consume you, leaving nothing but her behind.

“We can’t hook up in here.” You state, closing your eyes, getting lost in her. 

“Are you sure?”

“Come back home with me.” You blurt out, clearly not thinking about the consequences.

“So much for acting professionally.” She winks and then leaves you alone in the bathroom once again. You really had to stop going to the bathroom when you were out together.

When you both come out, you quickly find an excuse for you to leave. Thankfully, they had the hotel nearby, so they wouldn’t have to leave by car. Alexia told them that she had to buy some souvenirs for her sister, so she was going to come back late.

-

You get to your home by car, which fortunately wasn’t that far from where you were with your friends before, and you make her quickly come in, leading her without any hesitation to your bedroom. You were a girl with a mission.

As soon as you enter the room, you push her onto the bed and get on her lap, taking off your shirt in the process. She places her hands on the back of your shoulders, finally being able to touch your skin. You sigh at her touch as if you were finally able to breathe again.

Your faces were inches away from touching, but neither of you wanted to take that step, juggling anticipation with teasing. You were the one that surrendered, whispering, “Kiss me” To her lips as they soon met yours. It was excruciatingly slow, passionate, and tender. It was the first time that you kissed since the first time, and you finally realized just how much you missed it. Maybe too much for a simple two-night stand, but again, it was a problem for the future you.

As you lay together once again, this time in your bed together, both exhausted, even though it was barely time for dinner. She was lying on her front, with the sheets draping down her body, showing her strong back. She hugged the pillow, still keeping her eyes closed, fully relaxed. You loved seeing her like this. You let yourself leave a kiss on her temple while still stroking her hair, making her smile. She took your hand and slowly interlaced it with her, then kissed the back of your hand. “Hungry?” You ask her when she nods profusely.

“What do you want to eat?”

“Whatever you have.” You go to get up from your bed, and you throw on the first shirt that you find, which was hers, and you leave the room.

“Come back quickly. I want to stay in bed with you.” She tells you, making you chuckle at her cuteness.

You quickly retrieve some cookies and Nutella and return to your room. You place the food near your nightstand and roam for a shirt in your closet.

“Do you want a shirt?” You ask her.

“Yes, please.”

You throw her one of your old shirts from when you were younger, and she puts it on right away and subtly smells it.

Then you offer her some food.

“Where did you get these? They are so good.” She asks you while taking a huge bite.

“I make them.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah. Usually, before a match, I get a little nervous, so I bake. It’s my way of coping with anxiety. I usually share cookies with my teammates in secret. So that our nutritionist won’t say anything.”

“These are good!” She says. “They are very similar to the ones that Mapi did once.” Then it clicks for her. “Wait. Were you the one that taught her?”

“Who do you think she got the recipe from?” You chuckle.

“Yours are better, though. Like way better.”

“I know ’cause my recipe differs from the one I gave her. Mine is the real one. My dad would always say to never give out your recipes. They are a family’s inheritance.”

“You Italians are so weird with food and so extra.” She remarks, making you playfully slap her shoulder.

“We are not extra; you Spanish people are extra with your paella and the Jamon Iberico, or ‘Patanegra.’ You can find it cheaper here, and it is just as good.”

“That’s offensive. It’s like saying that Italian food is better than Spanish.” She says, clearly trying to rile you up.

“You did not just say that!” You put your hands on her thighs, looking at her, shocked.

“I did. And I don’t regret it.” She gives you a small peck on the lips and then goes on eating her cookie.

“You are lucky that you are cute.”

“Or else what? You are going to throw me out of your home?” She remarks playfully.

“I could if I wanted to, but then I’d be here all alone, without any clothes on, without anyone to keep me company.” You pout jokingly, making your voice even more needy to make fun of her.

In a swift movement, she pins you down the mattress with her fingers running up your thigh. “Thankfully, you are not alone.” She gives you a quick kiss. “By the way, you do look good with my shirt on, but you know what would make you look even better? If you took it off. So be a good girl for me and take it off.”

It was past midnight, you were both exhausted, and you were nearly falling asleep. You were lying on her side, slowly tracing her facial features with your fingers, trying to remember every little crease and mole that made up her skin.

“What are you doing?” She smiles, feeling slightly ticklish

“I’m trying to memorize your face. For the next time, we will see each other.” You say earnestly, not stopping your caresses.

“See. You cannot say stuff like that and expect me to not have a reaction.” She chuckles lightly.

“Maybe I want you to have a reaction to my words.” You say innocently, stopping your movements to kiss her soft lips.

“What are we doing here? What are we?” She asks you, making you retreat from your position sitting up.

“I don’t know.”

“Me neither. But I like this. Whatever this is.”

“Me too. We don’t have to label it. Can we just be? Is that okay for you?”

“I’m okay with it. Now come back here.” She offers her embrace to you, which you gladly accept, burying your face in her hair while she fatherly strokes your back, making your skin full of goosebumps. You sigh contently at the sensation.

“Can I ask you something?” You move yourself to better look at her.

“What?”

“I know that we are not an item or whatever, but I was just curious as to what happened with Chelsea. You can totally tell me to fuck off, and I won’t bring up the argument again, but you are known for always being very respectful to your clubs, and you always wait for a contract to finish before transferring, so I was wondering what made you change clubs.”

“Are you asking because you care or because you want a story? Because I really don’t like to talk about it, and if you don’t care, I’d rather not talk about it.”

“I asked because I care. I ask because since I have known you, I want to get to know you. I ask because you are a great person and I care”

“Okay,” You take a deep breath, and you begin. “This is going to be a long story.” You chuckle. “What do you know about my history with Chelsea?”

“I know that you transferred there after being at Atletico, but you sent in a transfer request soon after, and you came to Roma. That’s it.”

“You don’t know the reason, though, right?”

“There were just rumors, but I don’t know anything, and I don’t tend to believe rumors, as the majority of them are false.”

“Okay. So, to begin my story, we have to go back to my college years in the US. So basically, during those years, three major things happened: I got my degree in physiotherapy, met my best friend, and got a girlfriend who also wanted to become a physiotherapist.”

You told her how she was British and how you thought she was perfect for you. “Frankly, looking back at it now, we were very toxic for each other. We loved each other very much, but it was our first real relationship both of us. And honestly, I thought that I was going to marry her; maybe it was just me who was so in love with that girl that I didn’t even know how to distinguish and understand her flaws. But again, she was my first real relationship, and she knew how to use my weaknesses against me to get me to do what she wanted. My best friend hated her; probably, that should have been the first sign. We would fight and then make up, and then she would guilt trip me into doing stuff for her.”

“That doesn’t look like a really healthy relationship.”

“Well, yeah, I was really young and dumb. But anyway, when I went to Atletico, we tried to have a long-distance relationship. She found a job as a therapist at the Chelsea women’s team, and her career too was taking off. When Mapi and I finished the contract with Atletico, and she moved to Barça, I was to move there too. I knew that Barcelona was interested, and Barça was my dream. Honestly, it still is. But then she called me, the day before deciding on my future, saying that her mom was sick and she needed me. Probably, she just wanted to be able to see me more. So I stopped waiting for Barça's proposal and told Chelsea I would transfer for them. In the beginning, I loved being at Chelsea. I have always supported the club, and I fit their style of play. My career was taking off quickly, and I was wearing myself thin. Her mom was getting worse, so my time was divided between training and hospital visits. For my ex-girlfriend, her mom was like my dad to me. So, I understood how important she was to her, and I thought that if I stayed with her mom and kept her company, my ex would be happy. That is what I would want if my dad were to be sick. I would just want him to have all the support, not caring about myself if that meant for him to improve.”

“That’s not very healthy.”

“But if it were your father, you would do the same thing too, right?”

“Yeah.” She replies sadly. “I did the same thing.”

“So I guess I started neglecting my ex a little? I think. I know she was suffering, and I knew I could’ve done more to give her the support she needed, but I didn’t. I would train, go to the hospital, and then sleep. I was exhausted and couldn’t keep up with myself and her needs. Looking back at it now, I probably would have done things differently; I would’ve tried to not wear myself out that thin.”

“You were young.”

“Yeah, I guess. So I remember that one day, and I still remember the date. Don’t ask why; I just do. Her mom was getting worse, and she was exhausted, so I thought that I would let her go to sleep while I would try to keep her mom company. As she left, I stayed with her until the time was up, and I went back home and I-“

“No, she didn’t.” She says incredulously.

“Yeah. I caught her cheating on me with one of my teammates.”

“That whore.” She replies angrily.

“Well, she eventually married that woman, so I guess not.” You chuckle at her angry expression. “She told me that I wasn’t giving her the support that she needed and that the other girl was giving it to her. I got all of my clothes and left. I was still playing at Chelsea, but then word spread out that I was the one that cheated. Everyone started to treat me differently. I didn’t play anymore; I was always on the bench, and nobody talked to me. I reached my last straw, so I requested a transfer. Barça tried to sign me; I also wanted to go there. Everything was settled; I was about to leave when they blocked the offer and allowed me to decide between two Italian clubs, Roma and Juventus. And here I am.”

“So you stayed with her dying mother, and she had the audacity to cheat on you?”

“I guess? I don’t know Alexia. So much time has passed, and I don’t want to think about it anymore. She’s happy now, I guess. Honestly, I am happy too. I am really glad though that you won the Champion’s League final against them.”

“I am even more glad, too, now.” She brings you on top of her and gives you a hug, kissing the crown of your hair. “I am glad that you trusted me enough to tell me this. I hope that you know that you deserve better than her. You deserve the world. Her actions don’t define you, and don’t even think that you deserve what she did to you.”

“But what if-“You say insecurely when she interrupts you.

“No what ifs. You did what you thought was right, and by doing so, you put yourself second to everything else. You have no right to blame yourself for what she did.” She puts her hands on your cheeks and makes you look at her. “Okay?”

“Okay.” It was incredible how she knew what exact words to say and how, by her saying them, you actually believed them somehow.

Suddenly, you felt your heart crack open for her to enter inside it. And you realized that what you had with her wasn’t just sex. It was something deeper. In so little time, she was able to heal you from your past and open up again. And that scared you, no, it frightened you.

You had built the highest walls, and for the two days you had been with her, she could make them crumble. You were feeling too much; she was making you feel too much. You wanted to run away. Clear your head. Push her out of the way and never see her again. But you couldn’t bring yourself to move from her. Her embrace was what had grounded you. You weren’t drowning in her. She was your oxygen. And you were finally surfacing up from the depths of your mind to finally heal. This realization hit you like a ton of bricks, making you do the first thing your mind could think of. Which was kissing her.

You kissed her hard and passionately, trying to convey all the emotions to her, to show her how much her words affected you. Your action caught her by surprise, but she soon adjusted to it. You trail your kisses down her chest, then to her abdomen. Praising the body of the woman who had made you feel more today than anything your ex or anyone had ever done previously. 

-

The morning after, you wake up with an arm draped around your waist, holding you down. She tightens her arm around you as you try to tangle yourself out of her embrace.

“So you are just pretending to be asleep.” You smile at her, trying to take off her strong and dead-weight arm from your body.

“Five more minutes.” She fully snuggles into you.

“I have to shower, and you have to get back to your teammates.” You try to reason with her. “And we have to have breakfast.”

“Five more minutes.” She continues.

“Okay, but only five.” She pulls herself on top of you, spurring you to play with her hair, which you do, and the five minutes turn into ten. And then you both realize that you have to get up.

You decide to shower together ‘to save water.’ You both wash each other’s hair and back, this act of intimacy making your heart swell with affection for the girl who was currently hugging you from behind. 

You both have breakfast in your little kitchen, with conversations flowing effortlessly, alternating between joking around and surfacing more serious topics.

You could not but point out to yourself that this was what was supposed to feel like when you were in a relationship with someone. But you weren’t in a relationship with her. She liked the idea of not labeling this thing between the two of you and hell, you didn’t want to complicate stuff just because of some confusing and all-over-the-place feelings.

You bring her back to the hotel, telling each other that you will see them during the match that will take place the next day.

You put your sunglasses on, which you thought maybe were your post-hookup outfit choice, and you get to the training center. It would be your last session before tomorrow’s game.

As soon as you enter the locker room, your teammates from Roma chuckle at you.

“Fun night?” They tease you.

“I don’t know what you are all talking about.” Making some other teammates look at you curiously while you showed them the finger.

“So basically, we think Y/n is hooking up with a Barça player. So now she gave us another clue: She is Spanish.”

“I’m not hooking up with anybody. And it’s none of your business; I’m your captain. Get back to train!” You say, slightly irritated.

You quickly put your training gear on, realizing you were still wearing Alexia’s shirt, and then get on the pitch.

The coach comes soon after and calls you to revise some tactics.

“So you, Y/n, if Putellas is starting, you are going to be the one that will mark her.” Her surname makes your mind have flashbacks of your previous night. “You basically annulled her in the last game, so expect you to do the same tomorrow.”

“Yes, coach.”

“If Patri starts instead, you will mark Bonmatì.”

That evening, you were nervous, to say the least. It was your first match as the Italian captain, and you really wanted it to go well. So you started baking. You baked enough cookies for an army.

So you decided to leave some for Mapi, who has always loved eating them, and your pathetic ass also saved some for Alexia in the hopes that she would come and find you after the game.

It was match day. Alexia was in the starting 11, and your parents were in the stands supporting you, and as you were leading your team to the pitch, you felt a sense of pride. 

As you go to exchange the badge with the captain of the other team, Alexia, she tries to contain a smile that was creeping on her lips.

You shake her hand and give her the Italian badge. “Hello, Captain.” You greet her.

“Hello to you too, Captain.” She replies. You finish the formalities, and then you go to each other’s respective pitches.

Today, you would give it your all; nobody would stop you.

You were all over the pitch trying to help your teammates and leading them to score, but unfortunately, the Spanish team was a force to be reckoned with, and they exploited all of the weaknesses of your team. They were world champions for a reason. Thankfully, you were able to hold off a draw.

The first time that you had to mark Alexia, it was a free kick for Spain because of an offside.

“The armband has a good look on you.” She beams at you proudly.

“Well, the star looks good on your badge.” You reply. 

“Don’t you dare try to distract me.” She warns you.

“When did I ever do such a thing?” You reply dumbly. “I should be the one warning you not to kick me!” Mapi was about to throw the ball; thankfully, it didn’t land in the direction of Alexia because seeing her again on the pitch was making you feel a little distracted, and you’d really hate it if your team lost because of one of your mistakes. 

The rest of the times you interacted with her, you would snatch the ball away from her in most cases. You were working tirelessly, trying not to concede a goal. At half-time, you were exhausted, but you had something to prove. After half-time, Alexia was getting more annoyed; she really wanted a win as it would be their first win after their World Cup.

You knew you would get subbed off at the 70th minute to give some space for subs, so until then, you would give your 100%. It was the 65th minute, and there was a throw-in for Spain. Alexia was trying to get the ball from her teammates, and with a miscalculated movement, she quickly moved her elbow, which hit your nose, making acute pain grow in the middle of her face.

“Cazzo!” You scream. You throw yourself to the ground, still in pain, smelling iron and feeling a warm liquid in your hands.

The game quickly stopped, and Alexia turned to you, kneeling and touching your scapula. 

You were mad; you had once broken your nose more than five years ago, and it wasn’t pretty, and hated when people touched you when you were irritated, so you lashed out at her. “Don’t fucking touch me.” You squirm away from her touch,

“I’m sorry.” She says regretfully.

“You fucking did it on purpose, huh? If it’s broken, don’t you dare talk to me again!” 

Your team swarms you, pushing Alexia away. 

Linari, remove your hands from your face while keeping your eyes closed. “Is there blood? Wait, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know, or else I am going to cry or faint.”

You open your eyes for a moment and look at your teammates; they all are very worried. Linari was stomping towards Alexia, screaming in her face, but you couldn’t hear properly; your mind was a little hazy from the pain. 

You look at your hands; they are full of blood, and you begin to panic. You sit up and begin touching your nose, removing more blood, but you can still feel it flowing. 

The medics were running to you. “How bad is it?”

They inspect your nose, “It’s not broken; the impact broke some blood vessels, and you burst your lip. That’s why there is so much blood.

“Can you make it stop? I want to finish the game.” You look at your coach; she signs you to come off the pitch. 

You stand up, take your armband off, give it to your co-captain, and leave the pitch. You go to your coach, who reassures you that she doesn’t want you to risk anything for a friendly

-.

The medics brought you to the physio room and gave you some ice to put on your nose. Thankfully, the bleeding stopped soon after, and you were left watching the game on the TV while waiting for your teammates. You were happy that your team was able to hold a draw. As soon as the game finished, you were swarmed by your teammates checking up on you. You told them that you were okay, and then you began laughing and joking.

They stayed there for five more minutes, and then you heard a knock on the door, and you saw some of the Spanish girls checking up on you. Your team slowly exited the room, giving the death stare at Alexia, who shamefully wouldn’t look at you.

“You okay?” Mapi asked worriedly.

“I’m good. Thankfully, it is nothing serious; the impact burst some vessels, that’s why there was so much blood.”

They stayed there for another five minutes while Alexia stayed in the corner awkwardly looking at her teammates, never looking at you. As they were about to leave, you called her to stay a little longer.

“I’m sorry if I lashed out.” You say regretfully, holding out your hand for her to grab it while pulling her near you. “I know that you didn’t do it on purpose. It’s just- I had already broken my nose and didn’t want to break it again.”

“I’m really sorry.” For the first time, she looked at you; she had this kicked puppy look that you hated seeing on her face.

She takes the ice from your hand and slowly takes it off your face to check the bruising.

“Do I look that bad?” You try to joke; half of your face is red and really swollen.

“You look beautiful as ever.” She smiles.

You blush at her words, “You just say that because you were the one that caused it.”

“You know that I got screamed at by your teammates?”

“Linari?”

“Yep, Apparently, she knows Spanish really well. Honestly, I deserve it. If my teammate got kicked and punched by the same person, I would have had the same reaction.”

“Maybe you should stop then. Cause I really don’t want to know what will happen next time.” You joke.

“Maybe we aren’t meant to play against each other.” She remarks suggestively.

“Maybe not…” You reply. She kisses you on the forehead,

“Can I kiss you?”

“Just be gentle; it still hurts a little.” She gives you a feathery kiss, so gentle and so soft that it seemed like it was just a mere graze. She lingers her lips there for a couple of seconds as if she wants to savor this moment, and you both hear the door open, and you break off the kiss, pushing her away from you. You turn around and see your tattooed ex-teammate and friend staring at both of you, shocked.

“Oh wow. That was very unexpected.” She releases a surprised chuckle. “I’ll come back another time. I just left my sweater in here before.” She retrieves the sweater and she is about to leave when she turns around to the both of you, “I have to ask, though, when did you start dating, or whatever this is?”

“We are not dating.” Alexia turns to look at her, with her shoulders high and a serious face. She was closing off.

“Yeah. We are just casually keeping each other company?” You tentatively back up Alexia’s claim, clearly not realizing how weirdly you phrased it. Alexia’s face turned quickly to look at you weirdly. “Okay, that sounded a little bad. I apologize.”

“So you are hooking up?” Mapi concludes.

“Mapi!” Alexia rolls her eyes at her.

“What? It is true!” You slightly nod, making the other team's captain roll your eyes at you, too.

“I’d rather not discuss my sex life with you! I already know that in a matter of days, everybody from Barça will know, so the less you know, the better.” 

“I would never tell anyone!” She replies, offended.

While you sit there still in the bed, observing the interaction between the two friends, clearly annoyed with each other, you could see though how much they cared and loved one another. 

“So you wouldn’t tell Ingrid, right? I swear to god, you tell everything to that woman.” 

“She’s my girlfriend!”

“Yes, but still, you can’t keep a secret for shit!”

“Well, at least I didn’t nearly break her nose and kick her in the groin.” She comments calmly, making you release a surprised chuckle, making the two girls turn to look at you but soon shift their attention to each other again.

“For the last time! I didn’t do it on purpose!”

“Okay, that’s enough. As much as I don’t care about this bickering, I think it’s enough for today.” You go to stand up, but Alexia froze you with her gaze. Making you not move from your position “Now come and hug me. I won’t be seeing you for a long time.” You open your arms, and she walks right in them. 

“Take care, okay?” She says to you.

“I will. You too.”

“Let me see if I remember correctly. Ti voglio bene?” She asks, with her broken Italian accent.

“Si, Ti voglio bene anche io.” You chuckle. She exits the room, smirking at Alexia, leaving the two of you once again alone.

“Oh, I totally forgot. Can you pass me the bag that is under the table over there?” You point the bag with your finger while she quickly retrieves it and puts it on the bed next to you, where you are sitting, with your feet dangling in the air.

You quickly open the bag and hand her a little bag. She looks at you confused and then opens it.

“I made you cookies.” You explain, making her smile excitedly at the pastry.

“Why?” She turns to you incredulously, shocked by your kindness.

“Two days ago, you said that you liked them, and yesterday night, I made a batch for the team, so I thought that you would love to have them for your trip back to the airport. I made them also for Mapi.”

Her expression changed from incredulity to shock and then a mix between guilt and thankfulness. Seeing the shift in her face, your mind is plagued with doubt. “Did I overstep? I’m sorry. I just thought you might like something to eat. I always get very hungry after a match. I should’ve asked. I’m sorry.” You ramble quickly while you try to take the bag away from her, but she tightens her grip on them.

“No, you didn’t overstep.” She reassures you and gives you a big smile. “It’s just, nobody has ever done anything like this before. Thank you, Y/n. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s nothing, really. Even though you don’t deserve them, you still can have my cookies.” You tease her.

“Thank you. Thank you for the cookies, and thank you for the kiss. I have to get back to the locker room, or other people will start to wonder what we are doing here. I’ll see you tonight?” She asks as if it was the most normal thing.

“I can’t tonight. My parents are here, they came here from home to be at the match. Plus, I don’t think that we can do anything tonight.” Circling with your finger, your face.

“I just wanted to check up on you. Can you send me a text if it gets worse, please? I’m really glad, though, that there is someone with you tonight. I don’t think I could’ve slept well tonight if I knew that nobody would take care of you when I nearly broke your nose.”

“You are worrying too much. It’s just a bruise.”

“Yeah, but I don’t bruise the people that I dat- that I care about.”

“Ohh, you care about me!”

“Shut up. Do you want me to take the cookies to Mapi?”

“Yes, please.”

“I have to go now.” She hesitates. “Can I have a hug?” She asks shyly. You make her a sign to come to you, and she gently brings you her strong embrace, lightly pecking your neck in the process.

“I’ll see you next time?” She asks, hopeful.

“Goodbye, Alexia. Have a safe flight back home.”

-

‘Are you okay? Does it hurt?’

It was the third text that she had sent you that night. Every time, you would reassure her that it was nothing, just a bruise, but she didn’t care. She would ask you to send an update about your well-being every hour. 

‘I’m okay, Alexia. Stop worrying too much.’

‘I don’t care. In an hour, I’ll send you another text.’

‘Don’t you have like other stuff to do than worry about me?’

She sent you a picture of her and Mapi eating the cookies you baked. ‘Yes, but I can multitask. Like rn, I’m eating your cookies.’

‘I’m glad that you like them.’

‘You’ll have to teach me how to do them.’

‘You wish, haha.’

“Who are you texting?” Mapi asks suggestively to her captain, seeing her smiling at her phone.

“Me? Oh, Y/n, I wanted to see if she was okay.” She replies, never taking her eyes off her phone.

“You are down bad for that girl.” She grins.

“No, I am not. We are just casually hanging out. Plus, she told me that she didn’t want to label it. To ‘just be’.”

“Well, I don’t usually bake cookies for nightstands when they nearly have broken my nose.”

“She was just being nice because I told her that I liked them when I went to her place.”

“So you didn’t have to buy souvenirs?”

“Are you really that dumb?”

“Well, well, well, I didn’t know that you had it in you to have a nightstand. Not even her, honestly.” Alexia pulls her head down, not looking at her friend sadly. “Oh my god! You like her, like her!”

“I don’t know, okay,” She says, frustrated. “In the beginning, it was just physical. But then we began talking and laughing, and I don’t know. She just makes me feel so happy and relaxed whenever I’m with her.”

“Maybe it’s just the good sex.”

“The sex is good. Like incredible. But the little moments we have after are what I look most forward to. She baked me cookies, for god’s sake; how am I supposed to compete with that?”

“Can I say something that I don’t know if it will make you feel better or not?”

“Just say it.”

“When I first met Y/n, she was this shy little girl who just came from the US. She knew very little Spanish, but she had a huge heart. We became very good friends; on the pitch, we worked perfectly; off the pitch, she was my best friend at Atletico. Everybody loved her there. We also met her girlfriend at the time.”

“Total bitch.”

“Yeah, she loved her so much, but what hurt the most was that Kate was bluntly taking advantage of her kindness and generosity. Nobody in the squad liked her. When we were about to leave for Barça together, I was so happy. It was our dream, and I loved playing with her, but then her ex called her, and she wouldn’t wait for Barça. We got into this huge fight; it was the only time I had seen her angry. And then she moved to Chelsea.

What I’m trying to say is that Y/n, is a very kind and giving person, especially to the people she cares about. She always puts herself second to others, especially when they are in need. Giving you cookies might seem like a small and weird gesture, but for her, it is just a way to make your day, even by a little, better. She wouldn’t do this for people she wouldn’t care about.”

-

The third time you see Alexia was during the Champions League game against Barcelona. Talking to your coach, you refused to mark her, so you opted to mark during the game Aitana instead. With Alexia, things were going weirdly. You started texting more since she nearly broke your nose. So now you were friends? You really didn’t know.

The day before the match, the Barcelona team was at your stadium to meet some of your teammates from each other’s national team, but you quickly ran up to Mapi and gave her a hug. She was with some of her teammates, Alexia included, talking to each other. You soon greet all of her other teammates, leaving Alexia last.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” She picks you up in the air and embraces you tightly. “You okay?” She asks you, slowly putting your feet back down on the pitch.

“I’m good.”

“How’s the nose?” She gently pinches it and moves it to see if there is any swelling.

“Stop smothering me. It’s been like six months now.” You take her hand away from you. “And don’t you dare injure me again tomorrow?”

“I’ll try my best.”

 During the last six months, clips of Alexia injuring you from your previous two matches against you went viral. People saying that she hated you or that she didn’t care. Sometimes, even in interviews, people would ask you about your relationship with her or vice versa. And the both of you would simply say that you were just, unfortunate when playing against each other and that you were actually friends in real life. 

-

It was match day, which meant that you were about to face the best team in the world, which frankly scared you a little. It was at home, so you really wanted to win or at least have a draw. 

As you are about to go on the pitch, you meet your friends from Barça in line, and you go and shake their hands to all of them.

“We are swapping shirts after this?” You ask your ex-teammate, hoping that she would say yes. 

“Sure. If I win, of course.” She replies cockily.

“We have a pretty good team, you know. I wouldn’t be so sure about a win.” You sent her a playful smirk while you walked to shake hands with Paños and then Alexia.

“Capitana.”

“Good luck out there.” She smiles, slightly lingering her hand in yours, and then the moment is destroyed by your skipper calling you back.

In the first half, you became the shadow of Aitana; she never got past you. The difference between her and Alexia was that the younger girl was much quicker and more stubborn with the ball.

“So you are not marking Alexia this time?” She asks you, still with the game going on.

“Nah, I’d rather preserve my physical well-being.” You joke, making the younger girl release a small chuckle, then go back to focus on the pitch.

Alexia was looking at your interaction on the other side of the pitch, rolling her eyes and scoffing.

The game was pretty balanced somehow. You were giving it your all, running way more than needed. You could already feel how sore your legs would be the next day, especially when you knew Alexia would be coming over tonight.

It was the 60th minute of the match, you were on the counter-attack, and you sent the perfect long ball to your number 9, and she was running to the goal. You knew that she would be swarmed by the opposing team in a matter of seconds, so you started running too, to give her some support. Your legs were hurting, but you kept on going; you would score one way or another. You were nearly at the box when Giacinti cut the ball perfectly to your right foot, and you powerfully kicked the ball off the right top bin. Everybody stopped, you stopped. All looking at the quick ball, which was currently in the air. Paños dived, but it was too late. The ball already went inside the net. 

You ran to the side of the pitch where the fans were and kissed your badge, pointing at them. This was for them. Then, all of your teammates swarmed you and hugged you.

You raise your arms to make the fans get louder to cheer for your teammates. You were winning against the best team in the world. Now, you just need to keep it up; don’t let any slip or mistake jeopardize the victory.

As the final whistle blew, you could see the disappointed looks of the other team as they registered the first loss of their season, while you just dropped to the ground exhausted. Clearly, the stress from before the match and the running and shooting took a toll on you, and finally, you were able to rest. 

“You ok?” You open your eyes to see Alexia staring at you worriedly.

“I’m good. I just need to catch my breath.” She offers her hands to help you stand up, and you gladly take them. “You were great today. No wonder you scored against us.” You thank her again and search for Mapi to swap shirts.

“So, do you still want to swap shirts?”

“Yes, of course!” She pulls her shirt and gives it to you, and you do the same. You go and hug her, “Do you want to go for dinner tonight?” She offers, while you look at her a little guilty.

“I already have plans. But for the next leg, for sure.” 

“Plans with a certain tall woman from my team?” 

“Who, Ingrid?” You tease her.

“No, idiot. Alexia.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” You lightly blush, looking away from her knowing eyes.

“You know damn well what I am talking about.” She points her index finger at you, smiling. “I’m really happy that two of my favorite people started dating.”

“We are not dating.”

“If you say so!”

“I know so!” You saw all of your teammates leave for the locker room, “I have to go. Take care, okay? Don’t do anything stupid. Ti voglio bene.”

“Ti voglio bene. And you, too, don’t do anything that I wouldn’t do.”

“So you would fuck Alexia?” You began laughing.

“Eww, no. I’ll leave that to you.”

You playfully roll your eyes at her and then quickly hug her. “Bye, Mapi.”

“Bye.”

You quickly go to the locker room, but the UEFA people told you that you had just won the MOTM, so they wanted to give it to you. You pose for the picture, leave to change, and get ready for the night. You were exhausted. You kept yawning and barely kept your eyes open. But that night, you were going to see Alexia, and you really didn’t want to disappoint her. 

That night, you picked her up from her hotel to get to your place; you were having a really relaxed and enjoyable conversation when you got inside your house and led her to your bedroom. You sat on her lap, and as you were about to kiss her for the first time in nearly six months, you yawned. 

“Are you sure you want to do this? You look exhausted. Do you want to sleep?” She asks you worriedly, stopping you from doing anything else.

“No, no, I’m good. I don’t want to waste your time. I’ll be fine.” You go to kiss her, but once again, she stops you. She starts rubbing your thigh, soothing your aching muscles, making you close your eyes in relaxation.

“You are not wasting my time, cariño. I’m just happy to see you. We haven’t seen each other in nearly six months. We can just sleep if you want. We don’t have to do anything if you are not up to it.”

“I really like it.” You leave a small kiss on her nose.

“What?”

“The nickname, cariño.” You explain, feeling a warmth spreading in your chest. It had been some time since anyone had given you a nickname.

“Sorry, it just slipped.” She says, slightly blushing.

“I love it. Is it a problem for you if we just sleep? I’m really exhausted.”

“I’m okay with that. I’m really tired, too.”

“At what time do you leave tomorrow?”

“Not until in the afternoon.”

“Do you maybe want to stay tonight?” You ask shyly, tucking your head in her neck.

“There’s no other place that I would rather be.”

She makes you stand up, searching for something while you look at her confused.

“So, do you have any fresh clothes to change in? I don’t think you want to sleep in jeans.” She asks you while you point at your closet. She opens the first drawer and chuckles. 

“Is that my shirt?” She throws it at you, making your face turn pink.

“Well, it’s comfy, and it smells like you. Correction: It smelled like you. Now it’s just the fabric’s smell.”  

“I thought you had thrown it away.” She remarks sadly, throwing at you a pair of shorts.

“Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know.” She insecurely looks at you, changing the topic. “Can I borrow some shorts?”

“You can borrow anything you want.”

She takes a pair of shorts from your drawer and leaves to the bathroom to give you some privacy, which you thought was unnecessary as she has seen more of you than most people.

She returns to your room and lays down on your bed, making grabby hands for you to join her. You gladly do, sighing as you fall in her embrace, finally relaxing.

“Can I have a small kiss?” You ask her as you put your hand on her chest, quietly feeling her heartbeat.

“Ummm. Let me think about it.” She jokingly puts her hand on her chin, pretending to think. “Just one.” 

“Only one? You are making me work for them?” 

“Yep.” She pulls you for a slow kiss that takes your breath away. You hadn’t been kissing this woman for nearly half a year, and only now you realized how much you missed it. How much you missed her. As you finish the kiss, you both look at each other, “Okay, maybe another kiss.” You smile into the kiss as once again your lips met hers, and this time you melt into the kiss and break it off until you need to breathe again. 

“Buonanotte, Alexia”

“Goodnight, cariño.” You snuggle into her as she tightens her embrace, making you feel safe for the first time since you were little.

The next morning, you wake up with an empty bed. You sit up sadly, thinking Alexia left without saying goodbye or having breakfast. You leave your room and go to the kitchen to get some coffee, and there, you see her. She was rummaging through your cupboards when you walked to her and hugged her from behind.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning, cariño. Did you sleep well?” She feels her relax in your embrace while you snake your hands under her shirt, gently scratching her abs.

“Really, really well.” 

“I’m glad.”

“What are you doing?” You ask her, peeking with your head around her back.

“I’m trying to understand how this thing works.” You turn to see that she has it in her hands, a Moka.

You chuckle, gently pushing her to the side, taking it from her hands, and unscrewing the top of the coffee maker. You prepare the moka, and then you put it on the stove. In the meantime, you go to retrieve some mugs; they were on the highest cupboard, so you had to stand on your tippy toes to get the mugs, but your lover? Could you call her that? Walked behind you while putting a hand on your side and retrieved them for you, making you want to giggle at the action.

“Showing off your height, are we?”

“Me? Never. I’m just helping out my short queen.”

“Oh wow. How chivalrous.”

You both sit down at your little table and bring a piece of cake from your fridge.

“Do you want a piece?” You offer, getting a piece for you.

“Did you make it?”

“Yes, I did. Yesterday morning. It’s still good.”

“I swear to god, Y/N. You’ll get me out of shape if you keep feeding me.” She remarks jokingly, taking a bite from yours.

“Hey! That was mine!” You smack her hand away from your little plate, offended.

You stay together for another hour, and then you go back to the hotel very reluctantly. You didn’t know what it was, but something shifted that night between the two of you. You didn’t know if it was because you hadn’t seen each other in so long or because there were a lot of unresolved and unspoken feelings between the two of you. But when you said goodbye to her this time, it felt sadder and more longing.

You didn’t want to leave her side, nor did she, for that matter. You gave her a last kiss. She called you for the last time, cari��o, and then she left. Leaving you this weird feeling lingering in your chest that you couldn’t quite pinpoint.

-

In the second leg of the Champions’sChampion, you didn’t play as you got injured two days before. It was nothing major, but it still stopped you from playing the match, which you really wanted to. You knew this would be your last season in Roma, and you wanted to bring your team to new heights.

As soon as the whistle blew, your team lost 2-0, and you felt a wave of sadness come over to you. And that was where it really hit you. This would be your last season at Roma, last season with the girls. You went on the pitch with your crutches, picking your teammates up from the ground and consoling them, trying to keep your own emotions at bay. Your team soon huddles up, and your coach makes a speech, but it was all a blur for you. You shut yourself off completely and left immediately after the pitch. 

You go inside the hallway away from the cameras and push your back to the wall, resigned. You didn’t cry. But you needed to isolate yourself and not show any weaknesses to your teammates. At least one of you needed to be strong.

“Cariño?” You hear a soothing whisper while hands cover your face. You recognize the warmth of the hands, which make you bask in contact. “Are you okay?”

“Alexia, what are you doing here? You should be out celebrating with your teammates. You got into the quarters.” You slightly push her away.

“Don’t push me away, please. What do you need?”

“I need a hug, please. Can you hug me?” Your eyes twinkle wetly with a vulnerability that Alexia has never seen before.

She quickly acquiesces to your needs and brings you in a tight hug. Your head was on her chest because of the height difference, and you could feel her heartbeat soothing and giving a rhythm to your brain. She began placing small kisses on the top of your head, and her hands rubbed your back to give you as much comfort as possible.

“Are you okay?” She whispers worriedly.

“I just realized that this will be my last Champions League with Roma and my last year with my teammates. I just feel a little vulnerable. But I’ll be okay, eventually.”

“Let’s get you home.”

“Alexia. I will be no good company tonight. When I am sad, I only watch romance movies or listen to sad songs. It’s not pretty. And you don’t have any obligation towards me.”

“I know, but I still want to. We can do all those things that you listed together. Let me take care of you.” She offers, smiling earnestly at you, making it impossible for you to say no.

“Okay, but if at any time you want me to go, I’ll leave. I’d hate to be a burden.” She rolls her eyes at your stubbornness. 

She kisses your forehead. “Give me five minutes, and I’ll be with you.” She left quickly to her changing room, making you smile dumbly at her. At that specific moment, Mapi casually walks past you, rolling her eyes. “Definitely just hooking up.” She says ironically, leaving without the opportunity to say anything else.

Alexia was back to you in precisely five minutes and ready to leave. Meanwhile, you told your teammate that you would leave alone and be back tomorrow morning, to which she replied with a very suggestive smirk. You honestly really weren’t hiding anymore the fact that you were hooking up with a Barcelona player. All the team basically knew it, also your national team, so it was no surprise.

-

You get to her home, and she soon gives you some of her clothes to make you more comfy and then makes you sit on the couch and gives you a small blanket. Her little dog, Nala, sat on your lap, asking for cuddles. It was almost perfect, it just needed-

“Do you need something else? Do you want some food? Something to drink?” She was acting all serious, and while you just beamed at her, you realized that nobody had ever wanted to take care of you like she was doing right now. Your heart exploded with affection for the woman who was currently making herself so available to your every need.

“I just need you. Can you hold me, please?” She quickly sits on the couch and waits for you to come to her. “Watch out for my leg; it’s still injured.” You lightly warn her so she would make any movements towards your leg.

Your head was on her chest, some romance movie was playing in the background, and she was whispering sweet nothings in your ear, trying to lighten your fragile mood.

“So this is going to be your last year at Roma? You are not renewing?” You shake your head.

“So, where are you going?”

“Is that really a question when you already know the answer?” You tell her you weren’t looking at her face, but you could feel her face adorn with another one of her beautiful smiles.

“You are moving to Barcelona?” She asks, clearly trying to hide her excitement.

“Nothing is official yet, but I already talked to your coach. If everything goes to plan, we will be teammates. But don’t say anything to Mapi. I want to give her a surprise.”

“So we will play together? On the same team?” 

“Si, piccola mia. We will play on the same team.”

“I guess we were never meant to play against each other.” She chuckles jokingly.

“I guess not. I think we were destined to play together.”

[willowsnook]

Hi could i get a short scotch italian soda?

charles leclerc x driver!rider

just shut up and come here

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

Moving from Sauber to Ferrari had been a life-changing moment and you still remembered crying into your dad's arms after signing the contract. Everyone dreams of driving for Ferrari so it really was a dream come true.

You and Charles had been friendly while you were at Sauber but had really grown close when you became his teammate. The media loved the two of you and you both were tagged in thousands of fan edits of you guys dating. Ferrari's PR team was who was to thank for that. They always managed to post clips of Charles gazing at you longingly or you getting flustered when he made a not so appropriate joke.

The most recent viral video of the two of you had come out this past weekend. It was a trivia type thing where you had to answer questions about each other. The question had been directed towards you asking what was the last thing Charles did before bed each night and you had smirked at him mouthing the words jack off making him laugh out loud.

Excited to fuck with him you turned to the camera claiming you knew the answer. Within seconds he flew over at you from his side of the couch, tackling you and throwing his hand over your mouth. His arm was wrapped tightly around your waist and while it was friendly in the moment, the video painted a different story. Max had sent an edit some fan on tik tok had made into the drivers chat with a million laughing emojis.

You laughed it off as you did with most of the stuff fans said about you and Charles. Of course you thought he was attractive, who wouldn't? But you'd seen his past girlfriends and they looked nothing like you. Don't get me wrong, you knew you were hot but not in the sweet, soft-spoken influencer type of way. You were a ruthless driver on the grid who didn't take shit from anyone and that bled into your personality. The F1 reporters both loved and hated you for your quick witted responses to their questions.

"Ready for today?" Charles asked, coming up to you in the garage, sipping his water. You shrugged at his question; you were starting 6th on the grid compared to his 3rd.

"Who knows," you replied. "I'll be happy if the car doesn't fall apart."

He chuckled.

"You've got a chance for the win though, nervous?"

"Only if you'll be the prize," he flirted and you swatted his shoulder playfully.

"In your dreams Leclerc," you said laughing.

"Then I wish I was asleep."

Smiling you walked away and towards your team to do the final checks.

The car felt good during the race. You made your way to P4 and were pretty much cruising with no one close in front of you or behind. You assumed that Charles was fighting for the win as you hadn't seen him.

10 laps away from the finish, you saw a yellow flag.

What happened? You said over the radio.

Safety car. Verstappen and Norris crashed out into the gravel. You are P2, strategy now is to defend for Charles.

Sure enough, when everyone caught up during the safety car, you pulled right behind Charles. Oscar would now be much closer behind than he had been all race.

5 laps to go and you all took off. Charles still had good pace and you were close behind but so was Oscar. He kept going at you over and over any chance he had to pull past but you held strong. You cheered over the radio as you crossed the finish line securing P2 and Charles the win.

As you pulled up next to him, you hopped out of your car just as he was walking back from hugging the team. He swept you up in his arms and twirled you around making you laugh loudly.

"Thank you mon chéri," he said in your ear. "Now we get to celebrate."

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

The music was loud in the club as you celebrated Charles' win and you were definitely enjoying it. Three drinks deep you were in an animated conversation with Lewis who was just nodding along smiling, amused with your drunken state.

Eventually Charles dropped next to you slinging an arm over your shoulder giving Lewis an excuse to escape.

"Having fun?" He asked looking at you, eyes glazed.

"Yeah, just starting to hit a wall," you replied.

"Just let me know when you're ready to go," he said.

"You can stay later than me Charles, I'll just get a taxi back to the hotel," you said and he shook his head.

"You're coming home with me tonight remember," he said and your eyebrows furrowed. "I believe you are my prize."

Your face flushed as you remembered his earlier comment.

"There are a million pretty girls here, I'm sure one of them would love to be your prize."

"I don't want any of them, I want you," he said seriously and your heart rate quickened as you pulled away from him.

"You're drunk Charles," you said and he smirked.

"Maybe I am and maybe that's why I'm finally shooting my shot," he said. "So tell me you'll come back with me so I can fuck that pretty mouth of yours."

You squirmed at his words, closing your thighs tighter together as you grew hot. Noticing, his smirk grew wider.

"I don't know...," you trailed off and he leaned closer to you.

"I think you do know," he said. "So just shut up and come here."

Your resolve crumbled as you leaned into his embrace, pulling his head down to meet yours. His lips collided with yours in a rush of intensity, and his hand gently cupped your ass, giving a soft squeeze. Gasping, you felt him smirk against your lips.

"If this is my prize I guess I have to win every race," he whispered in your ear before attaching his lips to your neck.

"I guess so."

[bluewxrld07]

Hurt My Feelings (Ethan Edwards)

Warning(s): mutual pining, angst, cheating, making out, groping/touching

Ethan Edwards x femalebff!reader (there's also a little bit of Luke Hughes x reader oops ;) )

Summary: Based off of Tate McRae's song Hurt My Feelings :)

She wears your number, but I've got what you like

She's got you right now, but I'm still on your mind

The rink was cold. It always was. No matter how many times she's sat in one, whether it was for a tournament or for just one game, she still was cold no matter what.

She was wearing her UMich gear; supporting a hockey sweatshirt in the the familiar navy blue with yellow lettering underneath her jacket, a pair of grey jogger sweats with their team logo, a UMich hat, and a pair of UMich mittens made by the famous Edwards mother herself. A gift from her two birthdays ago after learning y/n would be attending the same college with Ethan.

Y/n found her seat in the third row opposite from the benches, wrapping her blanket around her legs as she sat. Once she was situated, she looked around the arena, watching as people piled into their seats. Some making their way down to the glass to watch the boys warmups up close.

That's when her eyes stopped and did a double take, following back to the familiar head of platinum blonde hair standing right behind the glass, standing directly across the rink from where y/n was sitting. She wore the oh so familiar home jersey with the number 73 on her back, with leather skinny jeans.

Her makeup looking a tad too overdone, a large sign sitting front of her and her friends with a thirst quote written out on it in big letters. The chomping of the girl's gum also being very noticeable. Y/n fought the urge to roll her eyes as she watched Ethan's girlfriend rave with her friends, probably bragging and talking about the boy himself.

Ethan was not someone who enjoyed signs with messages such as the one written on his girlfriend's board. Course the signs were fine when it was younger kids coming to watch, but he always said it looked desperate.

When y/n and him would lay outside talking about life, he always stated that he would want his future girlfriend to be the one sitting in the stands with his family. Not the one behind the glass with a cliche sign. Sure he didn't mind it when it came to fans, but when it was his girlfriend, it was a different story.

He wanted to be able to come out for warmups, search for her and smile when he did. Be able to look up at her every so often in between drills, waving, making gestures, mouthing something out to her, anything like that.

Y/n was lost in her thoughts when Ethan's mom's voice rung out happily. "Ugh I'm so glad you made it before me! I thought I was gonna be too late and we wouldn't get our usual spots." she jokes, a large smile on her face as she sat next to the college girl pulling her in for a bear hug.

She supported a homemade sweatshirt customized with her son's number and name on the sides of the sleeves, mittens with 73 on both of them as well as a UMich tie blanket.

"You know me, I like to be early thanks to always having parents fashionably late to everything," y/n chuckles as they pulled away from one another.

Ethan's mom gave her a look, knowing exactly what she meant. "Oh sweetheart trust me I know. Why do you think I always tell your parents an earlier time nowadays? So then they're actually on time to things."

"Yeah no kidding. I'm always the one stressing."

As the pair talked, the seats and the edges around the glass began to fill with students and fans. Before they knew it the music started to blare out, cheers increasing as the teams came out for warmups.

Y/n clapped alongside the elder woman, the pair still conversing as they watched the boys skate around the ice.

Y/n's eyes fell to the familiar head of brown hair poking out of the helmet he wore, watching as he shot into the net a few times. Not6 long after did her eyes find his girlfriend once again, seeing the girl bouncing up and down like a toddler and banging on the glass eyeing Ethan as he skated around.

She watched as her and her friends banged on the glass and shook the sign made, trying to get him to notice it.

"She's absolutely embarrassing." y/n hears next to her, looking over to Ethan's mom, whom has a disgusted look on her face while staring at the platinum head of hair across the rink.

"Not a fan of her?" she asks, watching the woman shake her head immediately.

"I tried giving her a chance. I truly did. But she is just not anywhere near his type. Or even respectful for that matter," she admits while shaking her head, finding her song back on the ice. "She got drunk at dinner with us the first time we met her. The second time we met her she got into an argument with my husband." Shay says.

Y/n stays silent and just chuckles lightly, focusing back to the boys on the ice.

Ethan peers up at the stands, scanning them before his eyes find her own. He smiles largely with a goofy smile and nods his head up as if saying 'what up'. Y/n feels her face heat up, butterflies in her stomach.

She nods back at him with a humored smile playing on her lips. His gaze falling to his mom next to her blowing her a kiss. She smiles warmly at her son and sends a million kisses back and cheers for him, watching his focus go back to drills.

Y/n wanted to take that and rub it in his girlfriends face, whom was still desperately trying to get his attention. Yet she was better than that, so she just stayed content in her seat as she watched the boys.

After a while, it was nearing the end of their warmups as her and the older woman had small talk about how school has been. They kept their eyes on the team in front of them, soon seeing Ethan skate up towards the glass on their side of the rink, eyeing y/n whom looked at him with a questioning expression.

He points towards the tunnel where they came from as if saying to meet him over there, her nodding immediately as she unwrapped herself from her cocoon.

She tells the woman next to her she will be right back, the woman shooing her off with a knowing smile.

Y/n makes her way down the steps towards the tunnel, feeling a certain blonde's eyes on her, making her try to hide a humored grin on her face. Ethan skates over slowly and greets some of the younger kids waiting by the entrance for the players.

She leans over the railing with a small smile on her face, watching as he makes his way towards her removing his helmet to look at her clearly.

He reaches his hand up as she re moves her mitten and reaches her own hand down, doing their little handshake together.

"You cold over there Rudolph?" he jokes, earning and eyeball from her.

"Yeah yeah, haven't heard that one before." she scoffs and he laughs at her expression.

"You want to meet the guys and I for dinner afterwards? We might hit up Bell's Diner," he says, and she immediately feels her insides warm.

He's asking her to join him. Not the blonde who was insanely upset on the other side of the rink. Her.

"Yeah I might be up for it." she shrugs, earning a smack to her hand that still hung with his.

I should've known better, you should've known better than me

"Ow, okay, ow, Ethan! Stop that hurts!" Y/n cries out with a laugh, the boy now sitting on her as she was laying on the couch, video game controller in his hands.

"No you stay here." he laughs.

She squeaks out and tries poking at his sides to get him off of her, watching as he twitches from her hands. "Ethan I have class in like fifteen minutes! I swear if you don't get off of me, I'm-"

"What? You're in no place to call the shots, you can't move," he jokes out looking down at her in amusement. Her arms fall other sides, looking up at him with a scowl, then crosses her arms over he chest.

Ethan laughs down at her before unpausing his game, y/n's mouth dropping offendedly. She begins to huff and puff dramatically, her head turning away from him as her sighs get louder each time her ignores her.

Once she sees that her dramatic sighs are not doing the trick, she conjures up a devilish grin.

It's a few moments of silence, but then before Ethan knows it, the girl underneath him begins screaming. He immediately jumps up in surprise from the loud yell she conjures up, the girl now scrambling off the couch and up the stairs to get her bag for class.

She hears his footsteps coming up the staircase as well as the calls of her name with some empty joking threats such as ones like 'I'm gonna throw you into the pool' or her favorite, 'I will force you to play in my spot the next home game'.

She's zipping up her jacket and throwing her backpack over her shoulder by the time her reaches her, an amused smile on both their lips.

"Ethan, no." she giggles, watching him stalk closer to her. She puts her arms out to keep him away. Her breathing getting heavy in between laughs as he gets closer.

She finds herself backing into a wall, completely screwed now as he now stands directly in front of her. His hands find her waist while his eyes are piercing down into her own, a devilish smile on his lips.

The closeness between them made her insides churn with excitement and nervousness, unsure of what was next to come.

"I wanted to spend time with you," he drags out, she rolls her eyes. "I don't see you much anymore."

"I was here yesterday."

"Okay but still, You get so busy with classes this time of year, and I have Hockey. So I don't see you a ton." he says, leaning his forehead on her own, giving her waist a squeeze.

She swallows lightly, her breathing becoming heavy as her heart. pounds in her chest. "I miss you." he mutters, his eyes finding hers.

Her eyes look into his, their faces so close now. Her heart was yelling at her to close the distance, but her mind kept screaming back and chanting girlfriend girlfriend girlfriend.

She watched him close his eyes, his jaw clenching and unclenching.

Y/n closed her eyes tight, taking a deep breath before place a hand on his chest and lightly pushing him back. "I've gotta go Eddy." she sighs, and walks away from him.

Ethan stayed in his spot, her scent still there, captivating as ever. Once he hears the front door close, his head drops back as he lets out a groan and rubs his hand on his face.

"Fuck"

I'm tryna tell myself I'm gonna stay away from you

I should've known better, you've got a way that's gonna weigh-weigh on me

It was New Years Eve, and of course the Hockey team was throwing a big party. They threw one every year. Y/n always helped plan them, per Rutger and his girlfriends pleas.

This year made it harder for her to say yes. She's been avoiding Ethan as much as she can, ignoring his texts and calls. Trying to distance herself from the need she had for him inside. She thought she was doing what was best for the both of them. Their want and need for one another was climbing. So she put a stop to it. At least is trying to.

The Hockey house was definitely bumping, the time being eleven o'clock. So close to ball drop. Y/n accepted that she would either end up kissing some random guy at midnight, or better yet, nobody at all.

Each year, she wished for Ethan to be that one she kissed. To feel his lips on her own. Yet it always ended up being nobody.

Of course Ethan knew she never had a new years kiss, so he would place his lips on her cheek after midnight and claim that that could count as her new years kiss.

She doubted she would get that now. After she had been avoiding him like the plague, stating she was so busy with classes and homework. Or that she was too sick to answer the phone sometimes.

She knew Ethan would see right through her each time though. Even if he wouldn't admit it, he knew her well enough to know her tell when lying.

So now here she stood while So High by Doja Cat played, next to Rutger in a game of beer pong against a couple of the Football boys, in a dress that she felt was too short. But was complimenting her figure so good per Rutger's girlfriend.

She was tipsy, but not drunk. She really didn't feel like throwing up tonight, better yet not having to deal with being hungover the next morning. It was enough of a buzz that she was able to feel at ease, and let loose for the night.

Rutger pulled her in for a hug as they cheered, her sinking the Football guys' last cup watching as they chugged it down.

Y/n a sip of her own drink, Rutger saying he was going to take a break and dance with his girlfriend, Y/n nodding and shooing him away to go be with her.

The girl made her way through the crowd after she finished making another drink, the crowd dancing as if in slow motion with the colored lights flashing around.

As she took a sip of her drink, she stopped in her tracks seeing the familiar boy she had been avoiding.

He was dancing up against his girlfriend, the girl basically grinding all over him as he kissed her neck. One hand gripping the underside of her breast while the other stayed glued lowly on her hip.

Y/n rolled her eyes, feeling the bile in her throat as she looked around the room to find someone. She thought it would be better to try getting over Ethan, by getting under someone else.

The crowd cheered as Rude Boy by Rihanna began to blare through the speakers, her lips turning up into a smirk. Y/n downed the rest of her drink and set her cup down on a nearby table, her eyes finding a familiar pair of blonde, curly hair.

"Hughes," she calls over the music, his head snapping over and down to her with a smile. "What's goin on little y/n/n?" he says back.

He was leaning against a doorway while talking another buddy of his, she held her hands out for him. "Come dance with me Luke," she challenges, his eyes scanning her figure as he bit his lip. Luke hands his cup to his buddy, immediately sliding his hands into her own, watching her lips move and sing along to the lyrics of the song.

They found a spot in the crowd, her eyes still locked on his. Sure Luke was attractive, everything about him was. Which is why she didn't mind how it felt dancing up close with him.

His hands slid away from hers, the girl turning around so her back was up against his chest while his hands found home on her hips.

Her hands slid up over her stomach, to her waist, over her own breasts before finally reaching behind her and sliding them into Luke's hair. The pair swayed together to the music as she sang along to the lyrics, Luke's head falling to the crook between her neck and collarbone.

Luke was tall, only a had a couple inches on Ethan, but still pretty tall nonetheless. His head fell over her collarbone fully, his lips finding a spot right on the bone that made her sigh deeply and grip his hair tightly.

Her eyes began to search in the crowd for the familiar brunette, stopping when she found him with his girlfriend still in their same position.

His eyes, though, staring into her own. Y/n knew she had him in a trance now. Her lips still singing along to the lyrics.

But that's when something else snapped in her. Her eyes leaving Ethan's and looking back down to the boy who was breathing heavily into her neck.

"Lu," she breathes, the boy humming and squeezing her hips as an answer. "I need you to help me out." she admits and he nods, his eyes finding hers for a second. He watches her eye dart towards the brunette and his own girl, Luke's eyes slowly fading over to Ethan and the blonde.

Luke's chin sat softly on her shoulder as they still danced against one another. The boys stared back at one another, Ethan's eyes looking into his best friend's with warning, as if daring Luke to test him.

Luke was always one to help stir the pot if it needed to be. Especially when he knew how both y/n and Ethan felt about each other, but danced around it for many reasons.

So of course when Ethan gave him those eyes, Luke's mind was more than happy to push his best bud past his limits.

Y/n's stayed on Luke's side profile while he stared at Ethan with a smirk blooming onto his face. As they swayed, the bridge to the song came in and Luke's hands began to move. One hand slithered its way to y/n's throat and gripped lightly, causing her to sigh at his touch.

The other hand slithered up too, but stopping on her left breast, squeezing and toying with it over her dress. The feeling of Luke's hands in the right spots made y/n's head rolled back onto his shoulder as she let out a sigh mixed with a breathless moan.

She knew Luke was still staring back at Ethan, who still held eye contact with him as well, Ethan's nostrils flaring.

Luke's eyes broke their stare a moment later, finding home on the soft spot in the crook of her neck he found earlier. Ethan watched y/n's chest heaving up and down as his best friend touched her and kissed her like that.

"Shit, Lu," she sighs into Luke's ear. She could feel him poke her backside as they ground against one another. "Who knew you knew what you were doing." she chuckles breathlessly, earning a hum from the curly headed boy.

"Gotta do what I gotta do to pull his head out of his ass, huh?" he says back to her, his head lifting up to stare back at her.

His hand left her throat, and began to slide down her waist, her hips, to her thighs, his hand moving towards her inner thigh and sliding back up slowly.

Her breathing was starting to become messy as he got closer to where she was dying to be touched. Whether it was Luke or Ethan, in which she hoped Ethan would be the one to do it, but wasn't complaining when Luke knew how to push her own buttons.

Before Luke could finally reach where she desperately needed it, she was snagged from his arms and thrown over a shoulder.

She looked back up to see Luke standing there, tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he saluted to her. She smirked at him in amusement, knowing exactly whose shoulder she was over.

Y/n was taken up the staircase and into the familiar brunette's room, the door shutting and locking behind them.

Ethan set y/n down on her feet once they were in his room, the girl’s eyebrows scrunched up in a frown. That frown changed when she saw his facial expression. 

She couldn’t pinpoint all the emotions running through his mind, but the ones she could see were anger, sadness, annoyance. 

Lust. 

His anger was what she could see the most running through his eyes, arms crossed over his chest. “Did you need something?” She retorts, testing the waters that were already running high. Ethan scoffs down at her, his arms being thrown up in anger at her. “You’re fucking with me right?” He snaps, making her shake her head at his tone. 

“I’m not doing this,” she chuckles bitterly, trying to walk past him but he grabs her arm. “Of course you won’t. You haven’t wanted to in weeks! I don’t hear shit from you, and the next thing I know I'm watching both of my best friends all up on one another? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Y/n lets her tongue run over her teeth, not daring to make eye contact with him. She might’ve been buzzed, but she was not drunk. She was sober enough to be aware of her surroundings, but so aware of them that she was holding back her actions. Because liquid courage was surely a thing right now, and she could not hold back much longer. 

“Hello? You gonna answer me y/n/n?” He says in a short tone, making her snap out of her trance. 

She could hear Rutger’s voice downstairs saying fifteen seconds till midnight, y/n really wanting to get out of there before she couldn’t control herself anymore. 

All these feelings have been building up, her avoiding him not helping her case. Actually made it worse, because of the way her body and mind craved his presence and touch. 

“I can’t right now, Ethan.” She musters out, not making eye contact as she says it. Ethan frowns at her, confusion setting in. “Do what?” He asks. She shakes her head at him, the boy watching as she swallows hard, her chest heaving. 

“Ethan,” she says, her tone was one he had only a few times. It was a warning tone. She still wasn’t looking at him in the eyes. The sound of everyone downstairs counting down till midnight and the music blaring being heard. “You should really get down there,” she says and motions to the door. “Your girl will be wondering where you are at midnight.”  

Ethan storms up to her, annoyed that she won’t even acknowledge him or look at him. 

“Look at me,” he says, his tone stern as he grabs her jaw softly but enough to force her to look at him. Her eyes catch his, he sees that she’s got a certain emotion running through them. 

“What’s going on, y/n?” He mutters to her softly this time. "Why won't you talk to me? What did I do?" he pushes, watching as the gears turn in her mind.

He watches her lip quiver, soon biting it to hide the way it shook. It shouldn't have made him feel a way, but it did. He wanted to be the one biting that lip. Let alone taking away the pain he could see in her eyes.

Y/n rolls her eyes as the crowd yells out ‘one’ followed by a ‘happy new year’. She looks back at him, still staying silent. He says her name one last time sternly. 

“Y/n.” 

“Goddammit Eddy.” she snaps before her hand wraps around his neck, pulling him in for his lips to finally slam onto her own. 

He didn’t take any time to process what was going on, just instantly kissing her back with just as much passion as she did. His hand going to both sides of her head, their lips moving in sync. 

The way his lips felt on hers was nothing like she's ever imagined. They felt like they belonged on her own. What caught her off guard the most, was the fact that he didn't even hesitate to kiss her back.

That's when she realized he felt the same way she did. The attraction was there.

His tongue grazed hers, making his hand slide down and grip her backside. When her mouth opened in a gasp, he slid his tongue inside to let it massage hers.

Her soft moans were like music to his ears, his hands roaming anywhere and everywhere. He wanted to hear them over and over again. It was him making her make those noises. Not Luke. His lips left her own and trailed down her neck, stopping on the same spot that Luke's had once been on. Y/n didn't think it could feel any better, but Ethan made it feel insatiable.

Her hands ran through his hair as his hands roamed wherever they could reach, her gasps and breathless moans going into his broad shoulder. But as he kissed along her entire chest, her conscience came creeping in.

"Ethan," she sighs, the boy's hands raising the hem of her dress slightly, gripping her thighs trying to get her as close as he could in that moment. All that was on his mind was her. She tried his name once again, the brunette still not answering her as he searched for her lips to shush her.

"Ethan hold on," she says in between their kisses. He whimpers in her mouth, making her feel so incredibly weak. She wanted to cave so bad. Wanted to give him all of her. Let him have his way with her, and her with him.

But she couldn't. She couldn't do that.

"Your girlfriend, Eddy." she mutters as she pulls away, putting her hand on his chest. They're both breathless, Ethan going in one last time, teeth going down to drag out her bottom lip which earned a moan from her mouth.

He takes a moment with her, chests heaving against one another.

"You stay here," he whispers, his hands coming up to squeeze her waist.

She just hums with a slight nod. "I'll be back." he says, placing one last kiss on her lips, leaving her in the middle of his room in a disheveled state.

He didn't return that night.

She's where you're waking up, she's got you making up such pretty boy excuses

Oh but I know one thing, she can't stop it happening in my mind

It had been two weeks since the New Years incident. Two weeks since y/n and Ethan had shared that moment in his room. Two weeks since he left you there, only to not return.

He had been the one avoiding her now. But in this case, not under his own choices.

Every time y/n showed up to the Hockey house, she was there. Every time y/n went to a home game, she was sitting in your spot, going to see him at the tunnel instead of y/n.

When she'd text him to meet, he'd say the same things.

E :)

I can't today, I'm trying to focus. I've got a lot going on rn.

E :)

I wish I could, but I've got some stuff going on with the boys.

E :)

I would say yes, but the gf and I have plans tonight!

She knew it wasn't him making the choices, or sending those texts. He always dropped whatever he was doing to see y/n, to be with her.

The boys would've invited her to come with for one, and for two she had planned on seeing some of the guys that night. So y/n knew it was a lie from him.

The classes y/n had with Ethan and the boys was what made it more obvious. He always made up an excuse as to why his girlfriend needed him to sit with her. Or she would already be sitting in y/n's spot, so she'd find somewhere in the back to sit.

Y/n's heart began to ache. She knew deep down that it wouldn't have just happened so easily between them two, and that she couldn't stop him from making that choice. It just hurt because she should've composed herself better that night, then maybe they would've turned out being back to normal at this point.

Y/n sat in the library with Rutger's girlfriend, the pair doing homework in one of the study hall rooms. Y/n had been zoned out, her eyes locked on Ethan and his girlfriend, whom sat outside in the main study hall area talking all happily with one another.

It should be her he is sat with. Them two laughing at some stupid joke Ethan tried making about classes or the assignment at hand. It should've been her getting the quick kisses stolen in between work.

"You really need to get better at hiding your emotions, y/n/n," Rutger's girlfriend says.

Y/n snapping out of her trance and looking up at the girl whom had the whiteboard marker in one hand, the other on her hip with an unfazed look on her face.

"What emotion? I'm fine." Y/n says, her tone squeaky and uneven.

"Yeah and I'm a hockey wag," the blonde girl jokes, making y/n shrug.

"Technically speaking, you are. Unofficially," she pushes, nearly dodging the marker thrown her way.

"Not the point!" the girl laughs, y/n smiling at her comment.

She comes and sits next to y/n, sighing as she sees what her friend was witnessing. Then turns back to look at her a few moments later.

"What happened on New Years?" she asked, watching her friend pale and look at her lap.

"You cannot say a word," y/n says. "I won't-"

"Not even to Rutger."

"Damn that bad huh?"

Y/n nods. "We kind of sort of," she trails off. "madeoutinhisroomandIhadtobetheonetostopitfromgoingfurther"

The blonde looked at her like she had two heads. "I cannot decipher your fast speaking tone, so slow it down for me thank you."

Y/n sighs. "We made out in his room, and I was the one who had to try and stop it. Because if I didn't, we would've kept going." she admits, watching her friends eyes light up.

"I was wondering why he looked so dazed and why his lips were swollen when he came back." she says in a knowing manner.

"Seriously, you cannot say a word! He didn't even come back to me that night, so it means nothing." y/n says as she closes her books, packing up her stuff.

"Girl, he didn't come back because his girlfriend knew something was up."

"I kind of figured with how she's been about me lately."

"Yeah trust me, everyone has noticed." y/n threw the whiteboard marker back at her friend who laughed.

"Don't stress about it seriously. She is just jealous of what you guys have," she explains as they begin to leave the room. "I'm not one to be for cheating, trust me. But with how she treats all of us behind the scenes, I'd say your secret would be safe with me."

Y/n shook her head, her eyes finding Ethan once again. "Yeah well," He must've felt someone staring because his eyes look up from the platinum blonde girl next to him, smile dropping when he finds the familiar girl's stare.

"He can count his day because he's breaking my heart doing it." The two girls then walk away, Y/n's eyes leaving Ethan's.

His eyes following her still as she left the hall.

She's got you right now, but I'm still on your mind

[rwby-encrusted-blog]

~Rooster Teeth is shutting down~

Ruby: This doesn't look too good Jaune ...

Jaune: You mean we're not gonna Get the Relic, Save the world, And Stop Salem?

Ruby: I don't even think we're gonna be able to ourselves or our teams buddy ...

Jaune: *Gives Ruby a hug*

Ruby: Thanks ...

Jaune: Don't mention it.

Ruby: I guess what everyone said about us was true Jaune.

Jaune: You mean that we're attractive?

Ruby: No. That we're just a poorly written protaganist and a Self-Insert. A couple of characters in way over our heads. We were doomed from the start. I mean look at us! We didn't come close to stopping Salem. We let Everybody down. We failed.

Jaune: Evernight Castle...

Ruby: Yeah buddy. We never made it to Evernight Castle.

Jaune: Evernight Castle ...

Ruby: Exactly Buddy, yeah. The place we never got to.

Jaune: Evernight Castle ...

Ruby: Okay, now you're starting to bum me out Jaune.

Jaune: No! Look at that sign! Evernight Castle! Remnant Gifts and Sundries!

Ruby: Evernight Castle is a gift Shop? But if this is Evernight Castle then where's the ...

*The Relics Gleam off on a stand*

R+J: ... Relics ...

Ruby: The Relics they stole! This is Evernight Castle!

Ruby: Jaune! We did make it!

Jaune: Yeah! We did ...

Ruby: *Crying* I guess we did all right for a couple of goofballs ...

Jaune: *Crying with Ruby*

Ruby: *Sniffle* RED LIKE ROSES FILLS MY DREAMS AND GUIDES ME TO THE PLACE YOU LEFT!

R+J: WHITE IS COLD AND ALWAYS YEARNING, BURDENED BY THE ROYAL TEST!

R+J: *sHAKILY* BLACK THE BEAST, DESCENDS FROM SHADOWS!

R+J: *Voices fading* YELLOW BE-AUTY BURNS ... Gold ...

FNDM Members: *Crying, Weeping, Shaking in Fear*

Other FNDM members: *Wiping tears from it's eyes* That's It! That's THe end of RWBY!

Twitter: *Squawks* Shut up and watch the Feed!

Other Other FNDM Members: The Bird's RiGHT! It'd Be the Care CRWBY has for the Show!

~~~~~

R+J: *GASPING*

Ruby: H-HEY! WE'RE ALIVE!

The FNDM: *Raucous, Uninhibited Cheering, more tears but this time of joy*

Jaune: Now let's go get those Relics!