#i like how they apologized in the middle for being rude when like. it was pretty informative

[kenntoria]

synopsis ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ you worry you’re talking too much and tiring nanami out—but he gently reminds you that hearing your voice is the most comforting part of his day.

you don’t mean to talk so much. you never mean to. but something about being around nanami makes it hard to stop.

like the silence he keeps between you two is a kind of warmth, a quiet invitation—not a cage. he’s not the kind of man who needs to fill space with words, but with him, you feel like your words can stretch out and breathe. like they can exist without being pruned down or apologized for.

and that’s dangerous. because you’ve always been a talker.

not in the “life of the party” way, not exactly. more in the way of someone who notices things and says them before deciding if they were worth saying. you narrate your own life, muse aloud about the sky and the way your toast burned and how you once had a friend who sneezed like a kitten.

you do this with nanami while he makes tea, while he reads the paper, while he unbuttons his shirt one button too slow after a long day—

you do this even when you know he’s tired.

and one day, halfway through a story about your neighbor’s parrot learning to curse in three languages, you stop.

you stop because you realize: what if he’s only being polite?

you’re curled up on the couch beside him, his thigh warm where it brushes yours, and you freeze in the middle of the sentence.

“—and then she said he was banned from the window, which is hilarious because—”

you blink. you swallow.

“actually. never mind.”

nanami looks up from where he was folding his glasses in his hands, brow slightly furrowed. “what happened?”

“nothing. i’m just…” you shrug, tucking your feet under you. “talking too much again.”

he’s quiet. not unreadable quiet, not the kind that says you’re right, but thoughtful quiet. the kind that means he’s carefully, quietly disapproving of that thought.

“do you feel like you talk too much?” he asks.

you laugh, but it’s a little hollow. “i mean, don’t i?”

“not to me, sweetheart.”

you look over at him.

he’s leaning back against the couch, looking at you with the kind of patient sincerity that undoes your insides. the kind of gaze that doesn’t flinch or waver, even when you try to hide how self-conscious you’re suddenly feeling.

“but you’re so quiet,” you say. “and you come home from all that work, and i’m just… rambling about parrots and the weird dream i had and that weird bakery guy who always gives me the wrong pastry—”

“i like hearing about those things.” he says it simply, like it’s a fact. not a compliment. not a favor. just true. “i like knowing what your day was like. what you dreamed. what you noticed that i missed.”

your heart squeezes. “yeah, but i go on for so long sometimes.”

he smiles, soft and tired and full of something so fond it borders on worship. “you talking my ears off is the best part of my day.”

you blink. “seriously?”

“seriously.” he turns to you fully now, pressing his knee a little more firmly into yours. grounding you.

“i spend most of my day dealing with cursed spirits or paperwork. everything is bleak or loud or dangerous. then i come home, and you tell me about the bakery guy and the rude parrot and how the sun looked on the windowsill. and for a while, everything feels… fine.”

he hesitates, then adds,

“you make things feel alive again.”

you can’t speak for a second. you just stare at him, wide-eyed and a little overwhelmed, because how is this man real?

and as if sensing that you’re two seconds away from short-circuiting, nanami shifts forward and reaches out, thumb brushing your chin to tilt your face back to his.

“don’t hold back with me,” he says softly. “don’t ever think you have to shrink yourself to keep me comfortable. i want all of it. all of you.”

your throat closes a little. your hands curl into his shirt, right over the center of his chest, and you rest your forehead there, hiding your face.

“…okay,” you mumble into the fabric. “i am going to finish the parrot story. you don’t get to back out now.”

his laugh rumbles beneath your cheek.

“i wouldn’t dream of it.”

and when you start talking again, you swear his arms around you tighten a little. like he’s holding something precious.

like the sound of your voice is exactly what he’s been waiting for all day.

[katsukilvr]

everyone else thought you and katsuki bakugo were dating except you guys ༄ fluff, oblivious bakugo and reader, swearing, slight angst, kinda corny lol

you were a staple in katsuki bakugo’s life.

your moms were bestfriends, and they had you both at relatively the same time so you were there before he built his walls, before his ego skyrocketed, before his quirk developed, and you became as natural as the hair on his head and the explosions from his hands.

he learnt to respect you. to treat you with kindness cause when he eventually did test you in middle school, he learned how it felt to not be in your presence for once.

safe to say it was hell.

he had yelled at you, he had a bad day, his friends bothering him, drowning in homework, and training for the entrance exam when he snapped at you and dismissed you away like he did with his usual friends that just followed him around like little puppies.

he quickly learned that you weren’t gonna beg for his forgiveness like the others.

you went distant after that. you didn’t reach out, didn’t say hello the sing-songy way you did every time you saw him, didn’t come over, and suddenly his heart ached. he didn’t know why. it was a strange and unknown feeling and all he knew was your absence was causing this emotion. this weird, yearning emotion, and he knew he’d do anything to get rid of it and get back the bubbly girl he knew.

he came to this realization at 8PM. it was raining. he didn’t care. you guys were neighbors anyway. he quickly threw on a jacket, putting on his hoodie and shoes, running over to your two story house. your bedroom was on the second story but it had a tree next to your window and he often scaled it to hang out or sneak you out, except this time he didn’t like the reason he was climbing it. he got cuts on his hands, almost slipping and falling two stories as he managed to reach your window, tapping on the glass lightly as he peered inside.

“cmon y/n. open up.” he called out, tapping a little harder before you came to the window, opening it up.

“what do you want?” you said, your once warm and gentle voice now cold and distant while you crossed your arms, a displeased and annoyed expression on your face.

“please.. just let me in.. and hear me out.” he said gruffly, already climbing inside, knowing you’d let him in anyway. “i was.. i was being an asshole. i’m sorry. you don’t have to forgive me, but—i miss you goddamnit and i don’t like not being with you everyday.” he muttered, the words feeling weird on his tongue. he’d never apologized to anybody else other than his mother and it was a rather foreign feeling, but he’d say and do anything to get you back.

you stayed silent, contemplating as you looked up at him. you knew how hard it was for him to apologize, let alone come here and speak to you instead of letting you crawl back to him. you just sighed, pulling him in for a hug, immediately getting wet from his soaked clothes.

he let out air he didn’t know he was holding, a sigh of relief, his hand immediately finding a place in your hair, his arms wrapped around you. god knows how good it felt to have you there, in his arms, with him like you should be.

after that day, he never disrespected you again.

he never realized what that feeling was, what love was, because yeah, he loved his mom, he loved his dad, but it was an entirely different feeling with you that he didn’t recognize.

additionally, he always thought romance were silly. he never understood romcoms, shipping in shows, soulmates, stories about ‘the one’, and so and so forth. it was always his one and only goal. being the number one hero. so he convinced himself, over and over again, that love wasn’t for him, that it was a distraction, an obstacle that would try to take him down. completely oblivious to his love in front of him all his life.

the years that followed, he’d grown more, emotionally, physically, and maturely too. he was still loud, rude, ill mannered, but he recognized how his words and actions affected others, partly due to you as well. you were the only one that could keep him in line while at UA.

of course, all you friends noticed that too. they noticed when he’d hold the door open for you without you asking. when you were the only person he’d walk to class with. when you’d always partner together during class projects. and when the dorms were enforced, he even requested to be next to you, like how your houses were next to each other. it was rare to see him in his own dorm, since he was always in yours, even if you weren’t in it, he just enjoyed being there.

so it was a shock when you told mina that no, you weren’t dating, and no, you hadn’t put him under a love spell like that girl from descendants.

“he is SO in love with you, y/n, how do you not see it?” she cried, giggling a bit as she laid down on your bed as you guys gossiped. it was a rainy night, katsuki was training in the gym, the one time he’s not glued to your hip. so you, mina, and jirou all had a girls night in. you guys talked, watched movies, and ate food. somehow you guys got to the topic of guys when mina asked you how long you and katsuki had been together.

you were immediately confused. “together? what do you mean?” you laughed, looking at the both of them look at each other. “how long have you been dating?” jirou repeated mina’s question.

“we’re not dating.”

they both gasped, “what do you mean your not dating? he’s SO nice to you.” mina exclaimed, giggling as she moved to lay on her stomach, her head resting on her hands. “yeah, he scowled at me and gave me a dirty look today just for laughing too loud and you tease and make fun of him and get nothing but a lil’ smile.” jirou said and laughed, rolling her eyes.

“well that’s just how he usually acts” you murmured, thinking back to the years before, “do you think he likes me?” you gasp, furrowing your eyebrows.

mina and jirou face palm, “girl.. yes.” they laughed and shook their head.

that’s when they all heard keys jangling and the lock unlocking (yeah he has a key to your dorm, and you have a key to his). “y/n, where’s my copy of—..” he said before being met with the stares of the three girls. he furrowed his brows, a strange look on his face, giving them only a nod as a hello as he moved to search through her drawers for a copy of NANA that he let you borrow.

the girls giggled behind him, mouthing “speak of the devil” and wiggling their eyebrows. you just rolled your eyes, dismissing them.

they both left quickly after with their own excuses, leaving you and katsuki alone. he finally found his copy, moving to your bed and plopping down next to you. “what was that about?” he said, opening up the manga. you rested your legs on his, and he started to trace his fingers up and down them as he read. “oh.. uh nothing. just a girls day.” you said, picking up your phone. you didn’t know why, but you’d gotten goosebumps. you never got goosebumps when katsuki touched you. or got close to you. damnit mina, why’d you get in my head? did katsuki like you? or was this normal between the two of you?

thoughts like that raced through your mind for the next few days.

you saw him in a new light, a beautiful.. handsome, kind of light.

every gruff “this reminded me of you”, everytime he came over, every time you guys went out to eat, or when he’d buy you those shoes you wanted in an instant, had your heart fluttering more often and he sensed this change, while he didn’t know it was you slowly catching feelings for him, he thought he did something wrong, and he went to his best friend (besides you).

he was pacing around in kirishimas room, running a hand through his hair as he ran through the reasons he could have pissed you off. it’s not like you’ve been distant but everytime he’d do something nice, you acted different and had him overthinking. A LOT.

“shit. i don’t know what i could’ve done to tick her off man, i dunno.” he grumbled, sitting down on the edge of kirishimas bed. “why don’t you just talk to her, man?” kirishima said, furrowing his brow as he organized stuff in his room. “it shouldn’t be hard to talk to your girlfriend, man, me n mina talk about our feelings all the time.” he explained further, glancing at his distressed friend when he suddenly looked up at kirishima. “girlfriend? she’s not my girlfriend idiot.” he grumbled, his head still in his hands. kirishimas eyes widened quickly, before returning to normal. he paused his task, sitting next to katsuki.

“she’s not?”

“no.” katsuki mumbled, his distress turning into confusion. “what makes you think that?” he said, scowling at kirishima.

“you treat her like royalty, man, you look at her like she hung the moon.” kirishima laughed, shaking his head, “you treat her better than most guys treat their wives.” he said, looking at the floor.

“well.. that’s just.. i don’t know. i’m used to it. she deserves it, yknow?” bakugo muttered out, sort of speechless. “i’ve treated her like that since we were in diapers, kiri.” he scoffed, running his hands through his hair. “well why?” his friend said, looking at bakugo. “well this one time, we got into a fight, a while back, and she didn’t talk to me for a fucking week.” he said gruffly, almost paining him to even think about that event. “it was horrible, i would’ve done anything for her back.. that’s when i knew i couldn’t lose her again.” he said, shaking his head, meeting his friends eyes.

“is it possible you like her?”

bakugo furrowed his eyebrows, slowly connecting the dots. like her? he scoffed, thinking about it for a second.

“i mean.. i love mina. i’d do anything for her, genuinely. she’s my world. it was love at first sight, bro. i think she’s the one.” kirishima said and laughed softly, shaking his head, “like my safe space. i wanna be with her all the time, yknow?” he explained further, “do you feel that way about y/n?” he asked, glancing towards bakugo.

oh.

he was silent. putting together the dots, connecting the puzzle pieces. he considered himself smart. he always did. but how could he be this dumb? this oblivious? he always felt that way towards you.

he nodded, sighing as he stood up. “i gotta go.” he grumbled, grabbing his bag and waving bye to his friend. he practically ran to his dorm, needing space. needing time to think.

should he push this feeling away? would it affect his career? many pro heroes have wives.. but all might didn’t, and he was the greatest. what would he even do about this? he didn’t know jack about romance. and did you even like him back?

that question stilled his spiraling mind.

did you like him back?

how could he know? your bubbly with everyone, too fucking chatty with icy-hot. you give that stupid beautiful smile to every stranger that passes and you ramble to anybody that would listen… was he as special to you as you were to him?

this had him faltering in classes, in training. he could not take his mind off it. off you. he over analyzed everything. every smile, every touch, every word that hung off your lips had captivated him.

he was tired of this. he didn’t wanna keep worrying. he didn’t wanna overthink for days. he was gonna ask you out. he was katsuki bakugo, goddamnit. he already knew what you liked, what flowers were your favorite, your favorite color, places that’d take your breath away, etc. he had planned the dream date, so why was he so nervous?

he ended up coming over, asking to hangout. you guys normally did, but he was extra jittery, extra sweaty, more than he usually was, which is a lot coming from him since his quirk was basically sweating. he stuttered more, was silent more which made you confused, suspicious even. mina had told you to get pretty today, have your nails done, your hair done, so you were already on edge.

either way, you had a great time, you laughed a lot, fleeting touches made you flustered, and butterflies stirred in your stomach. by the end of the night, he took you by a lake next to the school and you squinted at something you saw in the distance.

were those candles? a picnic blanket? a basket?

“kats? what’s that? do you see it?” you laughed, wondering why you guys were walking there. until it clicked, it was for you. you blushed lightly, looking around at what he set up. he had your favorite flowers, chocolates, new shoes, and food.

he was behind you when he spoke up, clearing his throat. “i.. uh.. this is for you.” he grumbled lowly. “i’ve liked you for a while, y/n.” he said, laughing nervously. “your fuckin’ beautiful, and funny, and i’d do anything for you.” he said, taking a step closer, looking down at you.

butterflies swarmed in your stomach, you were suddenly nervous and laughing, you couldn’t stop smiling.

“will you be my girlfriend?” he murmured, cupping your face in his hand. this was out of character for him. he didn’t know what he was doing, he hoped his hand wasn’t too sweaty, he hoped you didn’t notice his hand shaking, or his heart pounding in his chest.

you nodded, “yes.” you smiled softly, stepping closer and when you said yes, it felt like the weight of the world was lifted off his shoulders. he leaned in closer, not wanting to make you uncomfortable he spoke up, “can i kiss you?” he said, letting out a small chuckle. you nodded and he leaned in, his other hand coming up to cup your face as well as you kissed. you both were inexperienced, but you didn’t care because it felt right. it felt right to hold him closer, to rake your hand through his hair, to kiss until you ran out of breath and when you did, he whispered something against your lips.

“i cant believe i waited this long to make you mine.”

[lambilegs]

AN AMOROUS KISS WITH THE ONCE ENEMY.

day two of sevika week: first time.

set in the universe of this fic.

contains: royalty!au, sevika and reader are part of enemy kingdoms and have been pushed into an arranged marriage with each other for the sake of peace, reader lives with a toxic family, smut (minors + ageless blogs dni), sevika has a dick, mentions of breeding and pregnancy, soft sex, praise, reader is called "wife" and "girl," reader's body is referred to with the terms: "pussy," "cunt," "clit," and "tits"

a/n: this is inspired by an m4f audio I came across on reddit, made by u/AugustInTheWinter -- I haven't listened to it in full, so I can't guarantee all the content in it, so please check his warnings and keep it all in mind.

dividers by: @/strangergraphics and @/anitalenia

The last thing you expected upon Sevika’s arrival was for her to cup your face and plant on you the most amorous kiss you’ve ever received.

She’s been gone for two incredibly long months on account of counseling she’s had to do in several different provinces for the sake of peacekeeping. Your family jumped at the opportunity to have you back home, and while the prospect at first seemed tempting, it took only five days of staying with them to remember why you had agreed to the marriage of allegiance with Sevika in the first place. 

Everything feels… tighter around the throat. The rules that had governed you all throughout your childhood were now wound back around your neck, forcing every interaction to have controlled coldness and false niceties laced in. Prior to your marriage, this sort of life came naturally to you, like a sort of second skin you donned with ease every morning and tore off during the late hours.

But, after ten months of marriage to Sevika, living in her country and experiencing a whole new way of socializing, one that prizes bluntness and passion above all else, this world you once called home feels foreign now. You can already picture your wife’s – God, your wife – reaction had she been staying here with you. She would’ve barked out a crude laugh at your mother’s insistence on what subjects can and cannot be broached in a formal dinner. She would’ve kept you in her stare during balls no matter how impolite it was deemed for a woman to give her spouse the “sinful gaze,” as your aunt once hilariously put it.

But, oh, how that sinful gaze feels like Heaven after being tied to her for so long. At first, you viciously hated it. You thought the way she looked at your body was pure filth, and you tried hard to ignore the way it made arousal bloom between your thighs. You were also under the impression that twisted into that stare was contempt and pure arrogance at knowing you were putty under her hands. And in hindsight, you’re sure that was the case.

But, then, the two of you spent time together after the wedding night. You still cannot decipher if it was the most blessed or stupid decision you’ve ever made. The wedding night turned into an immediate argument in the morning. And that argument unfolded into weeks of bickering. Then, a vulnerable night where someone at a dinner party made a rude comment about your people made you struck with tears – and, shockingly enough, made your wife fist the table cloth and defend you.

A rare moment of kinship turned into shared smirks in the middle of shooting snarky remarks back and forth. It turned into her squeezing your hip during public outings and biting back a chuckle whenever you shot her a glare. It turned into her reading her book aloud to help you sleep during the anxious nights. It turned into you advocating for her when her father dismissed her. It turned into fights over you defending each other and the pride broken in doing so, ending with mumbled apologies and feeble attempts to grab one another’s hand.

Somewhere, tucked away deep in your soul, it turned into an actual marriage. It turned into that four letter word you still can’t manage to unleash from your throat when faced with her cocksureness. 

You gasp as her lips move against you in the fluid dance that nights upon nights of intimacy, all done under the justification of needing to produce an heir, have trained you both in. Your fingers twist eagerly into the fabric of her vest, pulling her in so that your fronts are squished together. She’s so tall, so lovely, so fucking strong. So warm when she’s on top of you, so dependable during the nights you meekly turn into her side when a nightmare leaves you feeling like you’re plunged into cold water. So steady – firm in her stance, cold and rough around the edges, but an inside, so tender and soft. An inability to ever deny you the care you need. You both know that. But, not only you. You’ve seen her show that care for so many people, including the ones she holds dearest to her chest and the strangers who have nothing to give her in return. It makes your admiration of her swell tenfold.

When she grabs your ass, nails digging into the plush of it, your mouth opens in a choked gasp. You can feel the longing for her, the desperate need for skin-on-skin contact. And you’d be uttering a terrible lie if you say that you don’t feel the same way. These last two months have been downright torturous, your brain itching for her thoughts on what you read, your face aching for the grins she causes in her rare moments of awkwardness, your body yearning for her rough touch. 

She pulls away from your mouth with a wet squelch, and through the heaving breaths, you finally take her in. Her hair has grown longer, black strands hanging in her eyes, and her eyes are shadowed with dark under eye circles. And yet, the light in those grey irises doesn’t falter even once, searing through your skin as her gaze shifts over your face. The sharp focus of the movement causes your stomach to flip. Did she miss you? Did she envision your face at night as much as you did hers?

Your mind barely has time to run through more questions before her hands lift to your face and she’s pulling you into another impassioned kiss, muttering, “You been sleeping well?”

The soft question nearly brings you to tears. Still passively hanging your mouth open, letting her tongue lick into the crevices of it, you shake your head from side to side. You had grown quite accustomed to having her nearby during the late hours.

Her kisses sloppily move to your cheek, her next words firm with determination. “You will tonight.”

When she loosens your robe, her eyes take you in, focused and half-lidded, hand rubbing at your tummy. “Fuck. Get on the bed now.”

You bite your lip in eagerness, arousal coursing through you. You’re already damp between the legs, your wetness smeared on your inner thighs. You know it’s probably a horrible idea to be doing it here, at your parents’ estate (you try to ignore just how touched it makes you to know she made a detour on her journey home just to visit your parents’ and ensure you make the rest of the trip together). But, there’s something tantalizing about it. This kingdom, so rigid, so seeped in structure and sense, totally demolished in this small way. In the tangle of limbs, the hot mix of breaths, the depraved claiming she always stakes on you.

When you get on all fours, anticipating that she’ll want it fast and hard after the time spent away, she chuckles softly. 

When you feel the slippery softness of her lips upon your spine, you gasp. A surge of heat shoots through you as she murmurs, “Get up. I want to see your face.”

The request makes your stomach tighten up, a wave of tenderness rolling through you. God, you want to see her too. So badly. You’re almost seized with fear at the enormity of your want, at the vulnerability that’ll be tethering you two together through this round of lovemaking. Lovemaking. Before, it was just sex – something you convinced yourself was only done for the necessity of bearing her child. Now, it’s something completely different. It’s another way you two have learned to mold yourselves together and allow your souls to dance in companionship.

Her skin, set ablaze under the warm light of the fire, is toasty under your roaming hands. She sits up with her back leaning against the headboard, your body curled up in her lap. You’re gasping pitifully as her dick slides between your pussy’s soaked lips, the hot weight of it getting slick as she grips your hips and helps you rock back and forth. Nails digging into her broad shoulders, breasts crushed together, your moist breaths fan against her cheek as you press messy, mindless kisses to the corner of her mouth.

Mind softened and turned malleable from the feeling of her cock brushing against your stiffened clit, you breathe out, “I missed you.”

She makes a small noise in her throat, then mutters, “Don’t tell me you’ve gone soft during my time away.”

The lack of reciprocation stings, and you immediately pause to pull back with a glare. “Will you not say it back?”

She levels you with a deadpan stare. “My dick is about an inch close to being inside you.”

You scoff, “Yes, and that’s how close you’ll get unless you tell me you missed me too. Or did you not?”

At the soft crack in your voice, one that has your face heating in embarrassment, Sevika’s eyes sharply flick to you. A moment later, she leans into you, grabbing the base of her dick and encouraging you to lift your hips. Mouth pressed to your jaw, almost as though she can’t bear to meet your gaze, she murmurs, “You think I would’ve added two days to my journey home unless I did?”

Your chest aches.

When she slowly splits you open on your dick, you immediately begin rutting desperately on her, the time apart feeling like an extended eternity. 

She bites her lip, hard, the corner of it quirking up in clear amusement. “Needed it that bad, huh?”

Despite the taunt in her voice, you can hear the way it trembles, and you know it’s taking her every ounce of willpower not to thrust into you the way she desires.

You take advantage of the weak point, pressing your palms on her chest and swivelling your hips in circles, slow and measured. Her dick twists in you just right, and a low whine flows from your mouth.

Sevika grits her teeth from where she sits, the muscles of her chest flexing under your touch. “You’re so, fuck–”

She barely gets the sentence out before her thick arms wrap around your waist and she’s bending her knees to give herself the leverage she needs to begin pumping her hips up. You cry out in shock, a hand feebly pressing to the bed frame as her cock darts in and out of you without falter, your hole gushing with juices mixed in with her precum. One hand grips your ass, kneading and smacking, while the other is braced against your back, keeping you still as she pounds into you like her personal toy. 

It’s pure ecstasy, rough and passion encapsulated in the quick, uncoordinated movements. But, what has your entire body eventually spiralling to orgasm is when she slows down. Continuing to hold you still, she rocks in and out patiently, leaning away from your shoulder to press her sweaty forehead into yours, the hairs plastered onto her skin making yours tickle and itch. Her eyes remain narrowed on how your mouth falls open in pleasure, utterly intent. You roll your hips to meet her thrusts, which are wet and loud with the cream you’re certain is coating her cock and your walls.

The forced eye contact has you crumbling from the inside out, feeling as though your insides are laid on display for her. And after so much time apart, basking in her desire and touch like this has you feeling like it’s the first time again. 

The feeling is only exemplified by the praise she begins to grunt out, so different from her usual humiliation and teasing. 

“Fuck, how did I stay away from you for so long?” she rasps, her voice rough like sandpaper. “This sweet little cunt, this pretty little face.”

A stuttering moan is racked from your throat, flutters twirling through your stomach. She thinks you pretty. God, she thinks you pretty. It feels silly to get so excited by such a revelation, considering she’s your wife, but you can’t help it. She makes you feel like everything is the first time, like she’s your first love. She isn’t, but when she looks at you like your body is a hidden gem found in a cave, when she mocks you and teases you and tentatively asks for your opinion as though you’re important, you can’t help it. She makes you feel wanted. And you want her just as badly, if not more.

Overwhelmed by the weight of your thoughts, you weakly utter, “I– don’t leave me again.”

The plea is more open than you had anticipated, brokenly uttered, honest to the core, and anxiety shoots in you as she slows down even more, her cock gently scraping against your walls.

“I won’t,” she says through her teeth, her voice hard. “I won’t leave you to the wolves.”

An instant need to defend your family rears its head, and you whisper, “I managed.”

“Just managing isn’t good enough for me.” She starts thrusting faster, holding the back of your head and keeping it still as she whispers, “You’re my wife. I’m gonna make sure you have better than that.”

Her words and movements make you sag into her, arms winding about her neck as you clutch on tightly. Her cock plunges in and out of you faster and you moan senselessly against her shoulder, lifting her hand from your waist to suck on her fingers.

“Messy girl,” she grumbles.

When she comes in you, your entire body is thrown into a fit of shivers, the thick strings of it bursting into your hole and filling you up delightfully. Keening, you press yourself down on her harder, trying to suck in every drop of her seed, downright greedy for it.

Deliriously, you pant, “More, more, more, give me it all, shove it in me. Please, please, breed me, get me pregnant.”

“Such a fucking needy girl,” she groans, continuing to thrust hard and deep into you, forcing her come into your hole as much as she can. “Take it, fucking take it.”

Moments later, the knot in your tummy releases, rolls of overbearing, heavy pleasure coursing through you as you bite into her shoulder, trying to muffle your noises. She hisses at the dig of your teeth, but you don’t care, wanting so badly to mark her up as your own. She’s no one else’s. She’s yours. Yours, yours, yours.

The words are right on the tip of your tongue, hanging precariously. 

But, your adoration of her is triumphed by your fear of your rejection. So, you hold it in, content to keep her like this, her softening cock still inside you. 

Her fingers smooth along the pimples of your back, ghosting over your skin and making you squirm. 

When you clench onto her tighter, she sucks in a small breath, muttering, “Already needing round two?”

You weakly smack her bicep. “Shut up. I can’t help it.”

The rest of her arm wraps around you and you nuzzle further into her. It feels familiarly like a hug, and your chest throbs at the affection. Because, truly? As much as you relish in the sex, the aftermath, the excuse to hold each other without undergoing the intimacy of asking for it and making your needs evident, is just as fulfilling.

Wanting to linger in the moment, you ask quietly, “How was the trip?”

“Tiring.”

“Thank you for the details.”

She huffs. “I’ll give them to you tomorrow.” 

After a pause, she asks, “How has the homeland been?”

You know her well enough by now to recognize the veiled message. Do you miss it here? Do you wish you hadn’t married me?

You press your nose into her collarbone. “Tiring.”

Her hold tightens. “I’m here now.”

And just like that, you hold on tighter, melting into the deep timbre of her voice, the words no longer a threat of dread and anger, but one of hope and comfort.

[ferrstappen]

all because i liked a boy l MV1

a/n: so... hey, its been SO LONG! this is a series i've been thinking about since like September last year?? and it's been sitting on my drafts forever and finally got the inspo and some help to finish it <3 i really hope you like the concept <3 i have the idea for a fourth song but i'll wait to see if you guys like it <3

pairing: Max Verstappen x female!singer!reader

word count: 5.3

summary: three songs summarize your relationship with Max.

first song: into you - ariana grande

There wasn’t a single person who didn’t wish to be a fly on the wall everytime Max Verstappen met his fellow Tag Heur sponsor, a true pop star, and the stuff of all his problems. 

Max had never been too fond of all the publicity that came with his job, he mentioned it every time there was a chance to: “I’m only here to race”. His statement remained truthful, but he couldn’t deny he now looked forward some events, dressing up and showing up. 

He met her the same week she was announced as a brand ambassador in the middle of her world tour. It had been during the Monaco Grand Prix weekend, thousands of cameras on them while posing. Max was never rude, but he noticed she looked almost nervous to meet him and anxious every time someone from her or the Red Bull PR team asked for some kind of contest, it all made sense when she apologized to him at the end.

“I know you’re not fond of these things so I hope you don’t hold it against me,” Those were the first words she said to him when there were no microphones on their clothes. Maybe someone was recording their interaction, but it wasn’t important. 

“What? I know you don’t have anything to do with it, I’m sorry if I came across as if I was bothered or something, I promise you I wasn’t. Plus, you must be exhausted as well,” Max said earning a smile from her and it was beautiful, kind. 

It made his own smile reach the crinkle by his blue eyes, lasting a bit longer than necessary for someone he just met, the taste of his champagne a little sweeter. 

(Y/N) spent the night stalking him and his girlfriend, she was stunning and they even had a small family of sorts. She had to remind herself he was just being nice, maybe too nice, but the adoration came from her part after hearing his laugh and realizing the smile reached his eyes, and the way his tongue pressed against his lips when his smile got too big, or how he held his breath every time he said something funny, waiting for her laugh.

And she was so weak for it, for him. Even if she wasn’t supposed to, but the events kept coming, the silk dresses and bold lipstick every time they saw each other, posing together, feeling Max’s big, warm hand on her back, hiding from the world to see. 

There was something quietly cinematic about hotel lobbies after midnight; the way the light softened, the silence pressed in, footsteps sounded hesitant, taxis coming and going every few minutes. Max wasn’t supposed to be there, not anymore at least. He’d said goodnight hours ago, disappeared into the elevator with a tired smile and the promise of an early flight.

But there he was.

Still in his suit, tie long forgotten, blond hair a little messier now, he sat at the far end of the bar with a half-finished gin and tonic and that unreadable look on his face, the one he always wore when his mind was loud but his words weren’t exactly ready.

(Y/N) hesitated in the entry to the lavish hotel bar, silk dress and Crocs, makeup a little smudged at the corners. She hadn’t expected anyone else to still be up, let alone him, but something about the way he looked at her: just once, then away, like it stung, made her cross the room anyway.

(Y/N) sat down two stools away, close enough to hear him breathe, far enough that they weren’t really next to each other, allowing to feel the space left between.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” she asked softly.

Max didn’t look at her at first. Just shook his head. “No. Happens after race weekends sometimes. My brain doesn’t shut off, it’s annoying”

She nodded like she understood. Because she did, but still needed to add something. “Maybe if you didn’t spend your free time sim racing…”

He glanced over at her, briefly before chuckling. “Your performance was great tonight, I meant to tell you earlier.”

Her laugh was soft, tired. “You looked miserable the entire event.”

He smiled at that. A real one. The kind that tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I was,” Max admitted. “But that part? I liked that part.”

Silence wrapped around them again, not heavy, just full; full of things they’d never said out loud. Full of questions neither of them had the right to ask.

She traced the rim of her glass with one finger. “She seems really lovely.”

Max’s jaw twitched, dreading the subject. “She is.”

(Y/N) didn’t look at him. She just nodded.

“You two look like you’ve got it all figured out.”

There was a pause.

Max exhaled slowly. “Yeah.”

Another pause.

She turned her head slightly, finally meeting his eyes. “I hate how easy it is to talk to you.”

Something flickered in his expression. “I know,” he said quietly. “I hate it, too.”

That was it. That was everything.

No closeness. No touching. Just two people sitting in the space between what they wanted and what they’d already promised to other people. His fingers tapped against his glass. Her foot brushed the leg of the stool, never his. 

They never touched.

“I should go,” she said eventually.

Max nodded, blue eyes unreadable again. “Yeah.”

But neither of them moved right away. It was always like that, every moment together stretching a little too long, never enough to say it out loud, just enough to feel it.

“Goodnight, Max.”

As he listened to those words he looked at her, really looked. Eyes searching, almost soft, like if he were someone else, or if this were some other life, he might have reached for her hand.

But this wasn’t that story.

“Goodnight,” he said, voice low. “Get some sleep.”

And she walked away, yearning and aching, while he sat there and tried not to watch her go, downing the gin and tonic.

-

It had been weeks since Monaco, since the late-night conversations, the unspoken things that lingered between them like ghosts. Weeks since they’d exchanged half-joking texts about everything, from memes about their awkward PR moments fans were always catching to random race weekend observations. She had a unique way of making him laugh, of sending him a meme at the perfect time, of pulling him out of the swirling thoughts in his head, the never-ending doubts. 

They hadn’t met again. She’d been on tour, he’d been in the midst of a brutal racing schedule. Texting became their way of staying connected; casual, light, a little flirty at times, but never anything real. Max never tried to cross the line, he had a girlfriend after all. It wasn’t fair to her, to her daughter, maybe even the cats. And yet, a part of him couldn't shake the pull he felt toward (Y/N), the spark that crackled just beneath the surface of every message.

Tonight, though, something was different. He had his phone in his hand, staring at the screen, unable to stop scrolling through social media. Her new song had just dropped and everyone was talking about it.

Into You was everywhere. Fans were loving it, critics were praising her for its rawness, the production, the passion. But Max couldn’t ignore the comments, somewhere, buried among the endless comments of hearts, praise, flames and verified accounts, there was a new question being whispered in his direction.

Is this song about Max Verstappen?

At first, it was just one or two fans joking around in the comments, but the more he scrolled (something he wasn’t proud of), the more the question popped up. People started comparing lyrics, dissecting moments they’d shared, and the strange way they’d clicked, not the pairing people would expect. 

Max’s thumb hovered over the screen and his heart kicked up a little. He couldn’t shake the idea from his mind. 

Was it possible? Was the song about him?

It didn’t help that he hadn’t heard from (Y/N) in a few days. Maybe she was busy just like him, tour life and all that, but now the questions on his mind felt heavier. He clicked into their text thread, reading through the last few messages. She’d sent him a meme a couple of days ago, a funny one about him winning the race in Japan. He’d replied with a laughing emoji, as usual. It felt like the normal thing between them, but now everything felt loaded.

Max felt a sudden need to reach out, to ask her, but at the same time, he hesitated. What if he was just overthinking it? What if it was nothing? She was a pop star, a professional, she was just being friendly. He was that guy, the guy who made it awkward, not very expressive, with a girlfriend…

But then again... He had to know.

He tapped out a message, then deleted it, then tapped it again.

hey

I know you're busy, but are you okay? Haven't heard from you in a while.

A beat passed before he added another text, the words lingering like a weight on his fingers.

btw, i've been seeing a lot of stuff about your song.. people are asking if its about me.

Max thought his heart was going to explode, feeling the beating on his ears.  

Is it?

He immediately regretted it, his fingers hovering over the screen as he debated whether to just delete it all and pretend he didn’t do it. But before he could second guess himself, the text was gone. 

(Y/N) had just finished a soundcheck when she saw the notification. 

A new text from Max. 

Her heart had dropped when she saw his name on the screen. She had been trying to ignore the way people were talking about her song, trying to stay focused on the tour, but now? The thing with Max had been gnawing at her for weeks. They had their moments, maybe too many moments, and now the world was starting to ask if it was all more than just playful text exchanges and rare promo outings.

She took a deep breath and opened his message, quickly scanning the words. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw the last question.

Is it?

She should’ve been surprised by the question, but she wasn’t, she’d been expecting it to come up at some point. People weren’t stupid, they saw the chemistry between them, the tension in the air that neither of them had really addressed. Not out loud at least. 

But she hadn’t planned on answering this way. She’d wanted to pretend it was nothing. She wanted to deflect, to tell him it was just a song, a moment, nothing more. But that seemed... dishonest.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard. She should just say it was nothing. Keep it professional. But she couldn’t lie. Not to him. Not to herself.

I don’t know what people are picking up on, but I’ll be honest

i wrote it about someone who... made me feel things I didn’t expect??? Things I wasn’t sure I could handle

but it’s not just about one person, you know? 

It’s about that feeling of wanting someone who feels just out of reach, even when they’re right in front of you. Yearning, you know??

She stared at the text, the words too real, too raw. She didn’t hit send immediately. 

What if he thought she was talking in circles? What if this was just a terrible idea?

She hit send anyway.

Max read her reply, and for a moment, his heart stopped. He could feel the weight of her words even through the screen of his phone. There was no denying it now, she’d just put it all out there: the feeling, the pull, the tension. It was all there in the lines between the words. And in that moment, Max knew he wasn’t the only one who’d been holding on to something unsaid, that he tried to convince was only in his head.

His thumb hovered over his phone as he thought about his reply. Should he be honest? Should he ask if what they both felt was the same thing? Or should he leave it alone?

He texted her back quickly, without thinking. I’ve been feeling it too. More than I should, probably.

He sent it before he could stop himself.

The text was out there now, and there was no taking it back. He waited, heart in his throat, as the dots on her side of the conversation appeared and disappeared. 

But this time, when her reply finally came, it wasn’t a meme. It wasn’t a joke.

It was the truth.

i know

and i think that's why we both keep avoiding it.

Max stared at the screen, his heart racing, the world outside disappearing as he thought about the next step. What would happen if they really admitted everything they’d been dancing around? Would they be able to keep pretending? Would the media and fans turn their attention into something they couldn’t control?

He didn’t know.

But for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t sure if he cared anymore.

second song: touch it - ariana grande

The weeks that followed were torturous.

Max couldn’t stop thinking about (Y/N), about their conversation, the way her words had lingered long after their texts had stopped. He couldn’t ignore whatever it was happening between them, the ache that grew every time he saw her name pop up on his phone, every time she sent him a meme or just a quick check-in. Their playful banter had always been a way to keep things light, but now it felt like they were walking a razor-thin line between friendship and something far more dangerous.

He’d tried to push it all away, focusing on the races, the endless press obligations, the girlfriend who had been by his side for years. He couldn’t just throw everything away, couldn’t tear apart the life he had, the one that made sense, the one that was steady, reliable. His girlfriend didn’t deserve to be hurt, he knew that.

But the more he tried to ignore it, the more impossible it became to escape.

And then, "Touch It" came out.

(Y/N)’s voice poured through his speakers one late night in a hotel room, and it hit him like a punch to the gut. The song wasn’t subtle. It was a breathless anthem of need, of longing, of reaching for something that was just out of grasp. She had written it, and he knew—he knew—it was about them. About him. About that feeling they couldn’t escape. The way she felt when they were together, the way they both held on to the tension between them like it was a lifeline.

It was a confession in a song, raw and unfiltered, and it echoed everything that had been simmering under the surface for weeks.

Max couldn’t stop listening to it. Couldn’t stop hitting replay as he drove through the city streets, as he sat in his hotel room preparing for the next race. Every time the chorus hit, he could feel the burn in his chest. 

Cause every time I see you, I don’t wanna behave. I’m tired of being patient so let’s pick up the pace.

The words raked across his skin, and for the first time in a long time, the temptation felt overwhelming, his skin felt too warm, his hands aching. 

He wanted it. Wanted her. Wanted to be close to her. He was drawn to her like he was drawn to the track, fast, reckless, and completely out of control.

But he had a girlfriend waiting at home.

And they both deserved better.

Max had tried. He really had, but every time (Y/N) popped up in his messages, it was harder to fight it. Texts were more frequent now, words lingered longer, carried more weight. The emojis felt heavier, the tone of the messages softer, more intimate.

They were dancing around it, playing with fire, and neither of them had the courage to admit what they both wanted.

It had been a long week of racing, and Max was exhausted when he arrived back at the hotel, the weight of the world on his shoulders. He stepped into his room, the familiar quiet pressing in around him. His girlfriend was waiting in the room next door. She was asleep when he checked in, and for the first time, the thought of being with her didn’t bring him comfort. Instead, he felt restless, empty in a way he couldn’t explain.

His phone buzzed on the nightstand, and of course it was a text from her.

I know you’re tired but I miss you… 

You ever feel like something’s just too hard to let go of, even if it’s the right thing?

The words hit him like a ton of bricks and suddenly the room felt too small. Too quiet. The space between was non-existent, and every message, every word they shared, felt like walking straight into a precipice, the bottom just waiting for what was inevitably going to happen.

His fingers hovered over the screen for a long moment. She was waiting for him to respond. But he knew if he answered this text, it would change everything.

Max ran a hand through his hair, staring at the text. The sound of the rain tapping against the window was the only thing filling the silence. He could hear his girlfriend moving in the other room, soft noises of her trying to sleep, but the distance between them felt miles wide.

Finally, he typed.

I can’t stop thinking about you

I shouldn’t, but I can’t stop.

He hit send, heart pounding in his chest.

(Y/N) didn’t reply immediately. The anticipation gnawed at him. Was she thinking the same thing? Was this going to go too far? Did she want the same thing he did?

Minutes passed, and just when he thought he’d made a mistake, his phone buzzed again.

Then don’t. 

Come to me, come see me. 

I’m not the one who’s going to stop you

The words burned like fire, sharp and undeniable. He couldn’t breathe.

He stared at the message, every part of him screaming to throw caution to the wind. To give in, just this once. To take what he wanted without thinking of the consequences. Without thinking of his girlfriend, of the other life he had built, the life he was supposed to protect.

Max stood up, pacing across the room, his mind whirling. The song, her words, her invitation. It all came rushing back, like a flood he couldn’t stop and temptation was too much, unbearable. 

Without another thought, he grabbed his jacket, keys, and headed out the door.

She was waiting when he arrived. There was a calmness in her eyes when she opened the door, but Max was able to see through it, the way her lips parted when she saw him, the slight tremble in her breath, it was too much to ignore. She knew. They both knew what was about to happen.

“You came,” she whispered, stepping back to let him in.

Max didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. The words were lost to him as his body moved forward, drawn to her like a magnet, like he couldn’t stop himself anymore.

Because he couldn’t, he had crossed the line. 

When their lips met, it was everything he had been denying. The kiss was slow, hungry, desperate. It was everything they had been holding back for weeks. Every unspoken word, every glance, every text, they were all there, alive in this single moment.

But as their hands roamed, and the world outside seemed to disappear, the weight of it all began to sink in. He was betraying everything. Everything.

It wasn’t just the physical act, it was the knowledge that he’d crossed a line, that the thing he’d feared, even if it was inevitable, was now real.

But in that moment, with (Y/N) on his arms, his blue eyes finding hers, he didn’t care.

The next morning, Max woke up to an empty room. 

She was gone, all trace of her gone, leaving the Monte-Carlo hotel room empty.

The sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting soft shadows across the bed, but everything felt wrong. The space next to him was cold.

His phone buzzed again, and for a brief moment, he hoped it was her. But it wasn’t. It was his girlfriend, asking if he was okay, asking why he hadn’t answered her texts.

Max swallowed hard, guilt and shame rising in his chest. The weight of what he’d done, the mess he’d created, crushed him in an instant.

And in the silence that followed, he realized: He couldn’t run from this anymore.

He was caught. And it was only a matter of time before the truth came crashing down.

The break-up wasn’t loud.

Max had expected yelling, accusations, maybe tears, but when he told her,  when he finally looked her in the eyes and said he couldn’t keep pretending, she just sat there. Quiet. Her arms crossed tightly over her chest, like she already knew.

“Is it her?” she asked, not even needing to say the name.

Max looked down at his hands, jaw tight. “It’s... not just about her.”

But it was.

It always had been.

He didn’t say he cheated. He didn’t say what happened the night before, hours ago. But maybe he didn’t need to. Maybe she saw it in his face, in the guilt buried behind his eyes, in the way his voice cracked when he said, “I haven’t been fair to you.”

She didn’t cry. She just stood up, nodded once, and walked away. Max didn’t try to stop her.

After that, everything changed.

He stayed away from (Y/N).

No texts. No emojis. No late-night memes. Not even a “hey” when she posted behind-the-scenes shots from her tour.

He watched, though.

Watched her perform, watched her smile through interviews, watched the fans scream her lyrics back to her like they knew her pain, like they knew him. Every lyric felt like a reflection, like a memory wrapped in melody so beautifully created by her. 

The rumors exploded overnight.

Max Verstappen and (Y/N): Something More Than Friends?

New Song “Touch It” Sparks More Speculation About F1 Star

Inside Their Secret Friendship—And What His Ex-Girlfriend Might Know

Social media ate it up. Paparazzi started showing up at both their events. Journalists tried to sneak questions into press conferences. He could hear it, feel it, the way people looked at him now.

Every time a camera flashed, every time someone said her name around him, his chest tightened.

Because what could he say?

Yes, I wanted her. Yes, I kissed her. Yes, I broke someone’s heart. Yes, I broke my own too.

But he kept quiet. Let the world build its version of the story.

And the worst part? She did too.

(Y/N) never spoke about him. Not in interviews, not in casual conversation, not online. She posted photos of her tour crew, messy dressing rooms, crowded arenas, sandy white beaches, but all trace of him was gone, the subtle ones only he knew existed, as if erasing him from the narrative could somehow erase the way he had touched her life and body and then left it in pieces, because she never thought leaving that morning meant leaving forever, that he would just disappear.

But Max missed her, constantly, and it wasn’t like the word let him forget either. 

He missed the way she teased him in texts, the way her voice softened when she said his name. He missed how easy it had felt to just exist with her, no performance, no pressure. Just them, in the quiet in-between spaces.

He told himself staying away was the right thing. The honorable thing. That maybe it was better this way, if she hated him a little, if she moved on without him. Maybe she should hate him. He’d touched something sacred between them and let it fall apart.

But then he’d hear her songs about him on the radio, and it was like the ache rewrote itself all over again.

They saw each other once.

Weeks later.

By accident.

At a TAG Heuer event in Paris, neutral ground, surrounded by cameras and managers and fake laughter. She was dressed in a black suit, her hair slicked back, red lipstick like a warning sign. She looked stunning. Powerful. Untouchable.

Max didn’t know she would be there.

And she definitely hadn’t expected him.

Their eyes met across the room. Just for a second.

And everything came rushing back.

The tension. The pull. The memory of hands on skin and words they couldn’t take back.

But they didn’t speak.

Someone stepped between them, an assistant, a handler, and just like that, the moment passed.

She turned first. Walked away like he was nothing.

He didn’t follow.

Later that night, she posted a photo from the event. A carousel: behind-the-scenes snaps, her laughing with her stylist, a close-up of her heels, her red lips, her watch.

He wasn’t in any of them, not even his shadow.

Max saw it at 2 a.m., lying awake in his hotel bed, the room too quiet, too cold. Thinking that maybe they could be spending this time together, holding her in his arms.

He stared at the screen for a long time.

Then he put his phone down.

And didn’t text her.

Not this time.

third song: because i liked a boy - sabrina carpenter

It started with a post.

Black and white. A photo of her in the studio, headphones half-off, mascara smudged, eyeliner sharp. She wasn’t posing for the camera—just staring at the wall like she was somewhere else entirely.

The caption was short:

“they wrote the narrative. i just sang the truth.”

And then the song dropped.

Because I Liked a Boy wasn’t subtle. It was messy. Angry. Beautiful. A punch to the chest. She didn’t name names, but she didn’t need to.

“Now I’m a homewrecker, I’m a slut I got death threats fillin’ up semi-trucks Tell me who I am, guess I don’t have a choice All because I liked a boy…”

The internet exploded.

Max watched it all unfold from behind his screen. Headlines flared. Twitter caught fire. Her name was trending for days, right next to his. Theories. TikToks. Threads with screenshots, breakdowns of their eye contact, fans zooming in on the way his smile lingered in her direction.

His ex girlfriend didn’t say anything, but she didn’t have to. The silence said enough. The world filled in the blanks for her.

And (Y/N)?

She said only what mattered. Through the lyrics.

Max played the song again. And again. And again. He could barely breathe through it.

It was all there, how they’d stolen moments, how she’d been painted as the villain for something they both started. And he’d let her take the fall. He let the world chew her up while he stayed silent, tucked behind PR teams and blank expressions.

But he missed her. God, he missed her.

He hadn’t texted her. Not since that night were his body was faster than his brain.

But he started watching her again, quietly.

He liked one post. Then another. A photo of her in a studio. A video of her laughing backstage with her team. Then a blurry mirror selfie with no caption.

The fans noticed. Of course they did.

max verstappen liking y/n’s post after 84 years??

he’s lurking and she KNOWS.

just date already omg

But she didn’t follow him or whatever it was he was doing; didn’t like his photos, did her best to avoid all the edits and side-by-side comparisons of her lyrics and his interviews. She was silent. Untouchable.

And maybe she was done with him. Maybe he’d hurt her too much. Maybe her silence now was the same silence he gave her when she needed him most.

But Max couldn’t stop.

He typed out messages at night.

I miss you.

I was a coward.

I should’ve defended you.

I still think about you. All the time.

He deleted them all.

Until one night, after a difficult race in Brazil, in the middle of a triple header, exhausted, emotionally wrecked, sitting in a hotel room with rain sliding down the windows, he typed something different.

Simpler. Honest.

I listened to the song.

A minute passed.

Then five.

Then ten.

No reply.

He let the phone sit beside him, the silence deafening, preparing himself for nothing, trying to convince himself it was for the best.

But then, finally, it buzzed.

Of course you did, everyone did. 

His heart clenched. The coolness in her message cut deeper than a scream would have. But he kept going.

I know I should’ve said something

I should’ve protected you

There was a pause.

He stared at the screen like it was going to fix everything, like honesty could undo what silence had cemented.

Finally, she replied.

You didn’t have to protect me, I never wanted that from you and you know it

I just didn’t want to be alone in it

That was it. The wound, wide open.

Max closed his eyes. He wanted to call her, to get on a plane, to show up at her door. But it wasn’t his timing anymore. It was hers.

So, he sent one last message.

I don’t want to be someone you used to write about

And this time… she didn’t reply.

But a week later, she posted a photo of her hand, a lyric scrawled across her palm in messy sharpie:

we don’t talk, but i still feel it.

And Max knew.

Maybe this wasn’t over. Not yet.

But they needed time, he needed to give her the time to heal, and come to terms with what happened.

It had been a year.

Twelve whole months since “Touch It.” Nine since “because i liked a boy.” Three since Max’s last like on her post.

No texts. No calls. Nothing that would hint to the world that they’d ever known each other beyond a photo op. But they had. They did.

And the thing about time? It doesn't always heal, but it softens.

It was late November in Amsterdam when it happened. Off-season for Max, cold air, breath in clouds, hands shoved deep in jacket pockets. The kind of day that begged for quiet.

(Y/N) was there for something private, a writing session tucked away in a borrowed flat, no press, no fans, no distractions. Just her and a piano and the kind of weather that made you remember things you’d spent months trying to forget.

She didn’t plan to run into him.

And Max definitely didn’t expect to see her when he walked into that café, hood up, head down, just trying to disappear for a few hours. But there she was, sitting in the back with her coffee half-finished and her fingers tucked into her sleeves, eyes locked on the window like she was waiting for something that would never come.

For a second, he froze.

He could walk out. Pretend he didn’t see her, save them both the awkwardness. But then she looked up, and those eyes, the ones that had haunted him in lyrics and dreams, locked on his blue ones.

Neither of them smiled. Not yet.

But she tilted her head. Gave him the smallest nod, maybe it was permission. 

So he walked over.

They didn’t hug. Didn’t even shake hands. Just… sat across from each other in a corner booth, sharing a silence that didn’t ache the way it used to. Not angry. Not painful.

Just real.

“I didn’t know you were here,” she said after a minute, voice soft.

“I could say the same,” Max replied, tugging at the sleeve of his hoodie.

A pause.

Then she smiled, just barely. “Guess we were always good at showing up in the wrong place at the right time.”

He laughed. Quiet. Honest.

They talked.

About nothing, at first. Racing. Music. Amsterdam traffic. Coffee that tasted like burnt toast. It was easy, eventually, familiar. The kind of conversation that only happens when you’ve known someone without ever really knowing what to do about it.

And then, when the cups were empty and the daylight started to fade, he looked at her.

Really looked.

“I listened to the album,” he said. “All of it.”

She didn’t flinch. Just held his gaze, brave as ever. “Yeah?”

He nodded. “I think I needed to hear it.”

Silence. Then, gently: “I’m sorry I let the world chew you up.”

She took a breath. Slow. Careful.

“I was angry,” she said. “Not because of what happened. But because you left me standing in it alone.”

Max blinked: “You told me you didn’t need protecting.”

“I didn’t,” she said. “But I wanted to feel like I mattered. That what happened between us mattered.”

It hung in the air between them. Heavy. But not unbearable.

He nodded: “You did,” he said. “You still do.”

And this time, she smiled for real.

They left together, slipping out the back door like two people who weren’t famous. Just (Y/N) and Max. Just a girl and a boy walking side by side through cold streets, their hands brushing once, twice, then finally lacing together, without a word.

There were no cameras. No press releases. No grand declarations.

Just a quiet choice to try again.

Not the way they used to.

Not in stolen glances and broken promises.

But something slower. Softer.

Real.

And maybe this time?

They'd get it right.

[notafunkiller]

tying you to me

Summary: When your boss, Bucky, apologizes for being rude to you once again, things take an unexpected turn.

Pairing: boss!Bucky Barnes x marketing director!female reader

Warnings: 18+, teasing, dirty talk, pet names, sir kìnk, breasts insecurity, protected séx, bøndage, a little degrading, praising kìnk, language, implied aftercare, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 5.2K

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: I really hope you'll enjoy it!

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

He’s well aware he went too far. He noticed right when he finished talking and took a look at you, but what is said is said. And the last thing he wants is Steve annoying him about the meeting.

“I don’t question the way you deal with employees, do I?” Bucky snaps, tired and really wanting this day to be over.

“What has gotten into you? What bothers you so much about her? I just don’t get it.”

Bucky sighs deeply, rubbing his hand across his face in frustration. “It’s not just one thing,” he mutters, his tone weighed down by a mix of tiredness and anger. “It’s a culmination... She’s fucking impossible.”

“Bucky, I get you’re upset, but taking it out on her isn’t fair. She did an incredible job, but you didn’t even listen to her. What’s really going on here?”

“I feel like she’s not seeing the bigger picture. We disagree constantly, and it’s making things difficult. Maybe I overreacted, but it’s been building up for a while.” Bucky leans in as he speaks, with his shoulders slightly hunched forward. His voice carries an edge that Steve notices immediately. He knows there is something about you that affects Bucky, but he can’t quite put the finger on it. Ever since he hired you, Bucky’s been angry with him too, which has happened only two or three times over twenty years of friendship.

“I can see this is really affecting you, Buck. If there’s something personal or if my decision to bring her on board has caused you any discomfort, talk to me. I just wanna make sure everything’s okay between us.”

He leans back a bit, surprised. “Personal? No, it’s not… it’s not about that,” he stammers, searching for the right words. There’s a subtle shake of his head, almost as if he’s trying to dismiss his own thoughts. He wishes there was a personal connection so badly that it messes with his head…

“Then what is it? I didn’t mean to jump to conclusions. I know you hate when things are not under your control, but I made the right call to hire her. And you were really unfair to her, look,” Steve waves around as he speaks, and Bucky turns to look at you through the glass door. You’re still there… working. “She’s not just smart and creative, but also ambitious and hard working. I know how much you value this as well.”

“I didn’t mean to come off unfairly. It’s just…” Bucky sighs, moving to shift his gaze back to Steve. “Our ways clash, and it’s hard to manage it. I value her skills, but finding a middle ground seems impossible sometimes.”

“Look, Buck, I understand it’s tough, but it’s important to listen to her ideas too,” Steve responds, his voice carrying a firm yet empathetic tone. “Today? You didn’t even look over the outlines. Try giving her ideas a chance or just suggest new things without trashing all of her work. You’d be offended too.” He pauses, and Bucky’s focus is back on you. His eyes narrow slightly, studying your determined expression as you delve into whatever you are working on that he dismissed today. And for a few seconds a pang of guilt flickers across Bucky’s expression, which Steve immediately catches. He clears his throat and continues. “I understand it’s not easy to step back and apologize, but it’s not about who’s right or wrong. And, to be honest, you were wrong anyway. It’s about ensuring a healthy workplace.”

“I appreciate your perspective, Steve,” he begins with a calm voice. “But I don’t think it would make a difference.” His gaze briefly flickers towards you before returning to Steve.

“Trust me, it’ll make a difference, not just for her but also for the team. Give it a shot.” Steve smiles, patting him on the chest before standing up. “I’ll leave you to it. It’s so late.”

“Alright, lovebird, off to your nest?” Bucky teases. “Natasha’s waiting for her captain. Better not keep her waiting too long.”

Steve chuckles. “Well, someone’s got to keep the romance alive around here. Good night.”

“Night...”

*

The audacity of this man is unbelievable. After all that shit he pulled on you today, he has the nerve to order your food! He’s the reason why you’re still working at eight pm instead of lying on your couch.

You are so close to crying out of exhaustion and anger, but you won’t give him this satisfaction. And you won’t eat his food.

“Are you seriously gonna starve yourself?”

“I’m not hungry,” you retort, your voice sharper than intended as you give him an annoyed look.

Bucky’s expression softens instantly, a hint of concern flickering across his face. “Come on, you’ve been working the whole day” he insists, trying to reason with you. “You need to eat something. Did you even drink water?”

You shake your head weakly.

“Look, I-”

“If you don’t like Pizza, I can grab you something else.”

You raise your hand, waving around. “I appreciate it, but I’m fine. I’ll eat something when I get home.”

The idea of accepting anything from him like this feels wrong. You don’t want his pity.

“Stubborn as ever,” he sighs, muttering under his breath, and you look up to meet his gaze. For a moment, there’s a silent understanding between you, an unspoken acknowledgment of the tension lingering from earlier.

What did Steve tell him to make him actually try to have a decent conversation?

“Look, sir,” you say through your teeth. “I don’t want your pity. I appreciate your concern, but I’ll manage. I just need to finish this.”

“This isn’t about pity.” His tone is firm. “You’re exhausted, and I’m just trying to help.”

“I said I’m fine. I’ll be done with these.” You lift your papers to emphasize. “And get home.”

“You’re not fine!” he shoots, surprising you. “And you’re too stubborn to see it!”

You’ve never seen him screaming before. Even when he is angry, he’s always the silent type.

“Don’t you dare!” you fire back all of a sudden, unable to hold back. If you’ll get fired, at least you should speak your mind properly. You can’t take more of this. He can’t step on you without consequences. “You are the reason why I am here anyway. Don’t play the concerned hero, just take your food and eat it...” You pause for a second before sarcastically adding. “Sir.”

“This isn’t just about the food, is it?” Bucky’s voice softens slightly despite his impulse to raise his voice again. “It’s about the meeting.” You keep looking him in the eyes, not denying the obvious. Of course it’s about the meeting. “Look, I am sorry, I know I should have handled things differently, but I’m trying to make it right.”

“You think a wannabe apology and food make everything okay?” You ask bitterly, standing up. “You humiliated me, Mr. Barnes. You didn’t even hear me out, you didn’t even listen to my ideas, what the team and I managed to do in the last few months. You disrespected them too! And I don’t get it...” You hate how tall he is. How perfectly his suit is ironed. How nice his hair is. Fuck him! “Ever since Steve hired me, you refused to communicate with me. It’s like you have decided who I am and what I’m worth without even giving me a chance, without acknowledging my efforts and results!”

“That’s not true,” he begins, trying to defend himself even though you both know you are right. “I made a mistake, I admit it, but I want to fix it.”

“A mistake?” You laugh humorlessly. “For months you’ve been treating me like shit, excuse my language.” You shake your head. “Actually I don’t. You should be the one apologizing! You look at me as if I am a scum, as if my presence bothers you. I come to you only when I have to, and you act as if I want to waste your time. Well, I wasted mine for months in this company. With you!”

Bucky snaps, feeling the frustration taking over him. “My decisions are based on what’s best for the company. It’s nothing pers-”

“That’s just a bullshit excuse to maintain the status quo!” you interrupt him, the tension escalating. You don’t care about this job anymore. Whatever will happen, let it happen. “You’re a stuck-up asshole, resistant to change and blind to new perspectives! My perspectives only, to be clear.” You see him clenching his jaw before his left hand covers his jaw. Oh, he’s angry. Good! “And it’s not even out of misogyny since you get along just fine with Shuri. So what is it? What is it, Mr. Barnes, that makes you hate me?”

“It’s not about you,” he insists, his voice strained with the effort to keep calm. “It’s about maintaining stability. It’s about-”

“Bullshit! You’re threatened by anything that challenges your authority! You’re just frustrated and insecure. You’re scared that someone else can do better things in their own way. You’re just a tyrant! I don’t know how Steve is friends with you. He’s such a great man, and you’re a dick.” You laugh. “God, I wanted to tell you this for so long. And if it’s not clear, I fucking quit!”

You’d smile widely if it wasn’t for his snort.

“You’re not quitting,” Bucky’s voice is low, but you still hear it.

He doesn’t believe you, clearly. But he will because you’re not joking or backing off. You can’t take another humiliation session, especially when you did nothing to deserve it. As much as you admire Bucky’s intelligence and company policies, he’s a fucking douchebag. To you.

“Watch me,” you retort instantly. Your heart starts racing as he takes another step toward you. He’s so close that you only need to get on your tiptoes to kiss him.

“No, you’re not quitting. And you’re not walking out that door until we settle this.”

“Settle what, Barnes? Your ego?” You try to maintain your composure, but the closeness makes it hard for you to focus.

He sighs, and your eyes find his lips again. They are pink and wet from his tongue. If only he was less of an asshole and not your boss, maybe you would...

“This isn’t just about me and my authority.”

“Then what is it?” You're confused.

“It’s about you challenging everything I’ve built here,” he admits, looking straight into your eyes.

“And you can’t handle that?” Your voice is filled with sarcasm, but for once he doesn’t focus on that.

“It’s not that simple.”

“Then make it simple, Mr. Barnes.”

“I... I don’t know how to do this.”

“Do what?”

“Deal with this... with you.”

“Deal with me?” You puff. “You’re insufferable, I am the one who has to deal with you and your constant checkups. With your: that’s not good enough, that needs to be changed, do this, do that over and over again.” You mimic his patronizing tone. “You don’t give me real suggestions-”

“I just... struggle with change.”

“And I’m the change you can’t handle?” The question hangs heavy between you, and his eyes drop to your lips this time.

“You challenge me,” he admits, his voice barely above the whisper. “You and your crazy ambition, your undying dedication, and your incredible ideas...” He pauses just to take a deep breath. “I feel like I’m suffocating every time I look at you.”

“Suffocating?” You roll your eyes. “How am I suffocating you? Just because I have an opinion and give you arguments-”

“I am fucking attracted to you, woman!”

You shake your head. He cannot just pull this lie and expect you to fall for it as if you are dumb. “Yeah, sure. Can you be a man for once and fucking take responsibility for your real thoughts and feelings? Just admit that you hate me!”

“Jesus Christ, are you that blind? For a woman so perceptive, you surely don’t see what’s right in front of you.”

You feel the anger take over your whole body. “Fuck you!”

“I wish! This is the whole point, the whole fucking point...”

“You want to fuck me for real?” You gasp, surprised and take a step back so you can look at him properly. He doesn’t seem to be joking.

“Deadly serious. And no matter how many times I tried to push this desire away, it just doesn’t work. You suffocate me. I imagine taking you all over my desk and couch. I imagine so many things, and I cannot focus.”

Before you can stop yourself, you slap him on the face lightly. Your palm is itching and gets red instantly, but you don’t care. As much as the info makes you happy, the context makes you super angry.

“So my team and I had to be humiliated just because you’re mad you want to get laid?”

“W-what? No!”

“No?”

“No. I deserved that,” he says referring to the slap. “But I meant what I said earlier. These are separate things.”

You cover your face with both your hands, not knowing what to say. What can you say? What should you think?

“I am sorry,” he sighs, and you hear him slowly walking away from you. “I should have said nothing. I am sorry. Please, don’t quit. You won’t have to work with me or even see me after this. Steve can take over, and you like him. I apologize not only for this, but also for my lack of… skills. I should have been more open to your ideas. And about tonight, I will wait for the HR email. I am sorry once again.”

Your head is spinning with all the things he’s just said. He wants you, but he’s also a bitch who cannot handle other opinions.

But you also want him. And you’ve wanted him despite how annoying he was. And he’s genuinely apologizing.

“Fuck it,” you whisper before going straight to him, pulling him by his tie toward you to kiss him.

He doesn’t hesitate at all, bringing his hands to your ass so you can feel each other better as he deepens the kiss instantly.

You shamelessly try to thrust your hips up a little as you let go of his tie, and his tongue feels like heaven in your mouth. His moan is low and hot, but you don’t let him breathe more than a second before you kiss him again, making sure to grab his hair and pull with force.

“Fuck me, Barnes. Fuck me right fucking now.”

He groans in your mouth once again, and you shiver.

“Jesus Christ, I’m gonna fuck you so well you won’t remember or think about anything else but my cock for days.” You instantly drop your hands so you can reach for his pants. Unbuckling them isn’t hard, but the zipper gets a little stuck, so Bucky has to finish the job for you.

“God, James,” you moan at the sight. “You’re leaking.”

He’s not embarrassed by this at all. On the opposite, he grabs his briefs too and pulls them down, letting them fall along with his pants.

You’re staring, but you can’t help it. His cock is so hard, and it even twitches as he grabs it to show it to you. It’s so thick.

“For you. This is all for you.”

Without waiting for a response, he suddenly grabs your shirt by the front placket and rips it in two. The buttons fly everywhere, one almost hits him in the face, but you don’t care. You’ve never been more turned on in your life. He’s so hot!

“Oh god, James,” you whisper, unclasping your bra before he can destroy it. It’s your best one, and you still need it.

“Yes,” he groans at the sight of your breasts, but you cannot ignore the wave of self-doubt that takes over you. They’re a little bigger than they should be for your height, so the sight is not the prettiest, in your opinion. This has always been an insecurity of yours, and even more after your last boyfriend made sure to emphasize this before you broke up. But Bucky seems fascinated. With his eyes glued to them and his mouth semi-open, he leans in, bringing his hands to both of your breasts before cupping them. You get goosebumps as he folds them eagerly, and you hear him groan when they spill over as soon as  he tries to pull them together.

“James!”

But it’s like he can’t hear you, too engrossed in watching your nipples hardening even more, and before you tell him what you wanted to, you feel his wet mouth sucking in one of your nipples.

You’re taken aback, so he uses his gloved hand to make you stop moving by placing it on your waist firmly.

He’s suckling at this point, making low whimpers as he’s looking at you.

You swear you never saw a more beautiful man in your whole life. His blue eyes are hypnotic.

“F-fuck,” you curse, bringing your fingers to his hair. You need to grab something before you fall.

He switches to the other nipple, and you feel yourself throbbing. You need his cock so much. You need his mouth... you need him to make you come. And you want to do the same to him. He’s driving you crazy.

“F-fuck me! RIGHT NOW.” You’re screaming, but he’s not surprised, rather amused as he takes his mouth off your breasts with a pop.

“Easy there, you sound quite desperate,” he giggles as if he’s just made the funniest joke ever. You are desperate.

“Fuck me or I’ll finish myself off, and you won’t be able to touch me as I do. Your choice.”

You know he doesn’t like or do ultimata, but you have no alternative. You crave to be taken on his desk as hard as he can go.

“How can I fuck you if you still have your pants on?” He asks you extremely calmly, and you’re shocked. You expected a more... intense reaction. “Earth to you?” He waves his hand when he sees you zoning out.

“You didn’t take them off.”

“I don’t take your clothes off, love.” He smirks. “I rip them, so if you want them intact, you better do it yourself.”

You nod, enjoying how raspy his voice is, and take them off without looking away from his cock. Not that he could stop staring at your breasts. His eyes are glued to your nipples. Your underwear falls, and only when you step out of the pool of clothes and finally free your legs from the high heels, he brings his hand to your pussy.

“Oh God, look at this… drenched!”

You moan, moving a little into his palm as if you’re trying to ride it. You need him so badly.

“James-”

“I know.” He smiles, spreading your lips more. “I know. So needy, my poor baby needs her cock so she can relax.”

You whimper loudly as you close your eyes. “Take me, sir. Make me your little fuck toy. Take out your frustrations. You can... you can show me how I was wrong for quitting by fucking me until I feel your cock every time I walk. I need to,” you moan again as you keep grinding onto his hand. “Come on! Show me!”

Bucky’s eyes get so grey as he suddenly pulls his hand away, making you whine. You’re about to curse him, but what he does makes you stop. He starts to take off his tie quickly, and you smile.

“Good boy.”

That remark makes his snort, and he cryptically replies:

“Ah, ah, we’ll see about that later.”

“Take off that shirt faster, and your glove, too.”

That surprises him, his eyes immediately widening, so you decide to do it yourself since he’s not fast enough.

He freezes as soon as you pull off his glove, revealing a black with golden accents  prosthetic hand.

“This is so fucking pretty, oh my God! Why do you keep this hidden?” You turn his hand around, and you gasp, realizing what you’ve just said. “I am sorry if I seem insensitive, it’s just that...”

Bucky snorts, amused, not hurt, which makes you feel like you can breathe again. The last thing you wanted was to bother him.

“You got a kink for my arm now?”

“You talk too much,” you murmur at the same time you start to unbutton his shirt as quickly as you can. Your hands are trembling.

When he’s finally naked, you let out a whimper, instantly reaching to touch his chest with both of your hands.

“You shave,” you say, surprised.

“Come on, love.” He smiles. “Touch my arm while you still can.”

You don’t question what he means by that, not wanting to worry too much. You expected this to be a one-time thing anyway, so you better enjoy every second of it. The arm is seamlessly integrated into his shoulder, and it's colder than the rest of his skin.

You trace a gold pattern all the way from his shoulder to his hand.

“I have a kink now,” you giggle when you see the sides of his neck getting pink.

“Well, I hope you have this kink, too, because…” He doesn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he reaches for the tie he had on today and smiles. “Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”

“W-what?”

“Hands behind your back.”

“You want to tie my hands?” You ask, taken aback by his demand.

“Did you try it before? Do you hate it?”

No, you didn’t try, but it doesn’t sound bad, surprisingly.

You usually hate not being in control, but it’s Bucky, and as annoying as he might be as your boss, you trust him. Plus, you quit after all, you should enjoy this as much as possible. The thought of him tying you up is really sexy for some reason, so you simply turn around and bring your hands together above your ass.

He doesn’t hesitate and quickly makes a knot.

“Too tight?”

“No,” you whisper. It’s not tight at all.

“You can tell me to stop any time, okay?” He wraps his hands around your waist and turns you toward him. “I’ll stop immediately.”

You nod, trying to get used to not being able to raise your hands.

“Words, please.”

“Yes, James.”

“Good girl.”

You’d lie if you said it doesn’t turn you on like crazy. You’ve been indirectly fighting with him for so long without getting any kind of approval or praise for your work. He made you angry and stressed more times than you could count, but you still respected him. You wanted his approval and you craved him...

You got yourself off thinking about him, you imagined choking him out of anger, but then it turning into a completely different thing. And it feels surreal this is actually happening, and he finally calls you a good girl.

“Are you clean? Anything-”

“I always used a condom, and I do checkups every six months. I assume the same about you.”

You nod, not bothering to tell him you don’t remember the last time you had sex, all thanks to him and his impossible to please ass.

“Do you have a condom?” You ask, moving closer to him again.

“In the car,” he curses, but before you can tell him that you can try without one since you are on the pill, he speaks again. “Wait!”

You giggle as you watch him run out of the office with his ass wiggling. No way he goes to his car naked, right?

You jump on top of his desk, pushing a few docs on the floor with your knee. It’s quite difficult because your hands are tied, but you don’t mind. You wait excitedly for his return just to tease him, but you’re speechless as soon as you see him unwrapping the condom package with his teeth before he quickly rolls it on.

“Won’t the neighbor mind?”

“What he doesn’t know,” he grabs your legs as he speaks. “Won’t hurt him. You’re not gonna run your mouth now, are you?” There is something about his patronizing tone that makes you hornier. Maybe because you know you’ve been on his mind so much he couldn’t focus on anything else.

“Why? You want to keep my mouth occupied with your cock?”

You don’t expect to be turned around on the table instead, with your ass in the air. Holy fuck!

“How about I keep this pretty wet pussy of yours occupied, hmm?”

You close your eyes when you feel his cock at your entrance before he finally pushes in.

He’s crazy, he must be crazy if he thinks you can take all of his cock like this.

“B-Bucky!” You arch your back without realizing, fighting against the material of his tie so you can get free. The impulse to touch his back is absolutely overwhelming, and the coldness of his left hand drives you crazy.

“What happened?” His other hand goes up until it’s in your hair. “You got nothing else to say? Are you already cock drunk?”

“More!” you whimper. “I can take more of you, please.”

“Ah? So greedy for my cock.”

“Need it deeper, James. Need you to move faster.”

You don’t care how desperate your voice is or if you’re pathetic. “I just wanna be stretched open until I cry. P-please.”

You don’t realize he is holding his breath until you hear him exhaling loudly against your back before kissing the same spot.

“You wanna be fucked like you’re my good little toy, baby? You want-”

He stops speaking when you moan, trying to move your hands so you can touch him and push him deeper inside you by grabbing his ass.

That hot ass…

“Want you, sir. Please, make me a mess.”

And he does. He fucks you harder, making your eyes roll back, and you can’t help but try again to touch him.

“Just like that,” you cry out when your face hits the desk more forcefully than before. You can sense Bucky’s hesitation so you shake your head. “I’m fine, I’m... k-keep going.”

He doesn’t stop, he even goes faster yet somehow deeper than before, a combination you’re not used to, that makes you feel like he’s splitting you in half. Neither of you can properly talk anymore. You can hear him cursing and saying your name along with: your pussy’s drowning me, so wet, think you can t-take it harder, but there is a long break after every word so he can thrust back inside you. You can’t even call him James, your voice is so hoarse, and he’s so deep you cannot even breathe.

You don’t need anything more the second he pulls your hair harder than you’d ever expect. Before you know what’s happening, the pleasure explodes inside you, making you scream. You don’t even realize that’s your voice at first, too focused on trying to prolong this feeling as you push your ass back frustrated you cannot grab his thighs, while he keeps thrusting inside you. His balls hit your clit, and you moan, a little sensitive.

“Sir, please, c-come,” you whisper, turning your head to the side on the desk. “Come for your little fuck toy. U-use me.”

You flinch, shocked, when you feel a light slap on your ass all of a sudden, but it doesn’t hurt at all. Quite the opposite. You don’t have time to say something about it, though, because Bucky’s already burying himself inside you again as deep as he can, and you moan at the same time he does.

“J-James...”

He pulls your hair even harder while he comes, groaning your name and a low fuck, that almost makes you giggle.

“Jesus...” It’s the only warning you get before you feel his chest on your back.

“Barnes, you’re heavy!”

His laugh is adorable, but he’s indeed heavy, plus you also have your hands tied. When he finally moves, you hop off the desk, almost falling since your knees are weak. Now you can feel your thighs aching too. But it was all worth it.

Quickly, Bucky unties you, without saying a word, which only makes you more nervous.

“Thanks,” you whisper as you turn around to face him. Then, you watch him take off the condom and place it on top of one of the papers you knocked over with your knee earlier.

After wiping his hands on his thighs, he grabs your wrists gently, making you almost moan at the feel of his cold hand. You’re not hurt, but they’re quite red, probably from the times you tried to get free.

“Gonna buy some cream.”

You shake your head. “No need, I am sure I have something for this.” You try to sound as casual as you can, not wanting to be clingy in his eyes even after you quit. Even after this. “Can you hand me my underwear and pants, please?”

Bucky freezes for a second, but he still gives them to you. “Are you back to hating me?”

“What?” You ask as you start to get dressed. You don’t have the blouse, but your coat is warm. You won’t freeze.

“Why are you so cold now? Did I hurt you? Did I do anything wrong?” His concerned voice and look surprise you. You know he is nice, but you didn’t expect him to be attentive after.

“No, you didn’t. I assumed this is,” you wave around when you finish zipping up your pants. “Just wham, bam, thank you ma’am.”

He doesn’t laugh.

“I told you, you’ve been on my mind for so long. Why would I... and even if it was just a one-time thing, why would I treat you like trash? Especially since we work together.”

“Worked,” you correct him before he hands you his shirt. You raise your eyebrow surprised.

“I’m not gonna help you get dressed, Barnes. You’re a big boy.”

“Put it on, it’s freezing.”

“I have my coat,” you protest, but he won’t take no for an answer, and you know it.

“On.”

“Fine!”

He helps you with it since your hands are, for some reason, still shaking. “Look, I was gonna invite you over to my place, but if I make you feel uncomfortable, or if you don’t want to see me...”

You can’t help but raise your eyebrows.

“Really?”

“We have some things to discuss, and I have a bath to run for you.”

You roll your eyes, fighting the urge to smile as he finishes buttoning the shirt. “You want me to sign a contract to fuck you again?”

“Ha, ha. No.” He leans in a bit to kiss your forehead. “We have many things to talk about that don’t involve a contract.”

“Yeah? Like what?” You start to collect the documents from the floor. “The process of writing my resignation letter?”

You hear Bucky puff behind you. “You’re not quitting.”

“No?” You bite your lip as you look at him. “Who’s gonna stop me?”

“Me.”

“Hmm,” you whisper playfully before placing his papers on the desk. “How?”

“Let’s get home and we’ll see about that.”

[flicklikesstuff]

Now imagine younger Wildberry meeting younger Crunchy Chip~

Oh noooooo, my hand is being forced against my will…

Please somebody stop me before I-

Some context:

*sigh* Looks like I made a WildChip childhood buddies AU. Whelp, too late to turn back now.

So anyways, this fun concept is not at all canon obviously. Just a what-if universe on what if these two knew each other as kids, both as young orphans taken in by their respective ancients. The timeline here is after the Dark Flour war but also before Dark Choco’s betrayal and Holly leaving for Beast Yeast.

Just to explain, Dark Cacao and Hollyberry agree to meet in person since they’ve stayed in touch in this AU rather than shutting themselves out. Just to talk about matters together and what to do going forward.

………….

*Rewinding hours before the boys’ “first” introductions in the art above.*

In one of the monarchs’ meetings unfortunately, when the Cacaoians traveled over to the Hollyberrian Kingdom, Dark Choco (who came to assist his dad) found a certain rascal who was supposed to be with Caramel Arrow back home:

Ah yes, the young cookie they rescued from a Cream Wolf trap in the wild. Ever since Dark Cacao saved his wolf family, little guy has been wanting to return the favour and his life debt.

Yeaaaaah, this was not supposed to happen.

Dark Choco struggled to keep Chip away from the king to prevent distraction but unfortunately lost sight of both him and his puppy in the Hollyberrian castle. Chip at some point split up with his buddy and now he’s looking for both of them in this giant maze of halls he’s never seen before. Lots of new sights and smells. Nothing like the bitter cold of the Dark Cacao kingdom. Where is he actually?

Until:

What a quiet, rude and strange-looking cookie! How dare he trip him! Who the heck reads in the middle of a hall anyway?! And not a single word or apology??

Whatever, he’ll exact his comeback later. The good news though? Chip found the king safe and sound ^^ (Looks like his little cream wolf brother beat him to it though)

Fortunately, Dark Cacao wasn’t too hard on the kid.

Meanwhile, Wild took in mind Holly’s lessons and with some self-control, left his encounter with this aggressive cookie to avoid further escalation. (See!! He remembers the Queen’s words of advice! :DD)

Holly was worried for a second since she’s aware that the Hollyberrian nobles tend to be harsh on the young street kid she took in. But she also became confused when Wild couldn’t say what House the other cookie was in. In fact, their dough wasn’t a berry flavour he could recognise at all.

But while they both went to snitch, they unfortunately caught their parent monarch at a busy time when they’re expecting to go and see a friend from the neighbouring kingdom any second now.

Some formalities and friendly exchanges later, the two ancients made some necessary introductions and uh….

Let’s just say Young Wild and Chip recognised the other cookie with a disgusted realisation-

[ediblechainsaw]

Your Devoted, part two!!

Part one

Stalker!König x fem!reader

Cw. Badly translated German, shitty writing, König cums in his pants, and oral sex (f receiving)

As always, if you have any ideas please ask!!

Enjoy!!!

Its been over two weeks since that man left that tip, and it actually seems like your life is going better. The one rude customer that liked to verbally abuse you? He hasn't came in in a while. That gang of men that hang out down the street, that you pass every day on your walk home from work? They no longer catcall you, or even look at you as you walk past. Your shitty next door neighbor that blasts music into the early hours of the morning? You haven't heard a sound from his apartment.

It's actually releiving, like you're being repayed for all the times you were wronged or mistreated.

The only concerning thing is that things keep appearing in your home. Money in the front pocket of your jeans when your sure there wasn't any. Groceries in your fridge and cabinets, all the brands and kinds you usually buy. Your pet food being delivered just when you need it the most. Your favorite candy bar, in the middle of your coffee table.

Things you don't remember doing, but actually benefit you. You wonder if it is that guys doing, but who would go out of their way to make life easier for you? Wouldn't he have better things to do than waste his energy on you?

Well, you aren't exactly complaining. Coming home after a hard day in working customer service and seeing your favorite snack sitting on your coffee table? It was almost.. attractive.

You find yourself on your couch, feet propped up on the coffee table, snack in hand and your mind flickering back to that guy. The overtipped. Your.. Devoted.

Gorgeous wasnt even the word to describe him; tall with line backer shoulders, sharp features, short light hair and peircing eyes, muscles and that accent. Damn. You had never been much of an accent girl, but damn were you weak kneed by just hearing his voice.

He hasn't come back since, hasn't came in for another cup of coffee. The only sign of life from him is the things left in your apartment while you're gone.

So expect the surprise when you hear a loud crash from your bedroom.

A crash, curse, and figure walking down the hallway, limping slightly.

Him, your adorer. And he looks as surprised to see you on your couch as you do, seeing him in your hallway.

You stare at him, blink, then swallow. Your body reacts in a way that it never has towards a man. You suck in a sharp breath, hands trembling slightly but not with fear. With an emotion more intense, more captivating.

You're still as a statue, maybe even more still, as he slowly walks over to where you sit on your worn in couch, feet no longer propped on the coffee table. The only noise is the aound of your shaky, quick breathing and his slow, even breaths as he kneels between your legs, his hands on his knees and eyes holding a thousand promises.

"Hallo, meine Göttin." His voice is soft and deep, and that accent is just as drugging as when you heard it weeks ago. "I apologize, I did not know you were home."

You wonder to yourself if you're hallucinating. Maybe someone spiked your coffee earier.

"Are you afraid?"

Finally, you find your voice, "uh, yeah. Obviously."

He laughs softly, deep and amused, "no need to be. I am not here to hurt you, engel."

In your chest, your heart beats so quickly that you can't tell if its skipping beats or just beating too quickly. "How.. how do I know that?"

"Meine engel, I am your devoted. I cherish you. I would cut my own hand off before I try to hurt you," his words are soft, genuine, but you can't help but be suspicious. Especially when he's saying this about you.

"You could just be saying that."

He makes a soft noise, you can't tell whether its unhappy or amused. His hands, large and skilled, massage your feet softly. "Let me show you, then, meine Göttin, yes?"

You don't answer, don't tell him yes or no, but as he massages your feet and up your calves, you find yourself realzing into your couch cushions. While you want to close your eyes and fully relax, you can't bring yourself to take your eyes off of him. Especially not when he lowers his lips to your knees and kisses softly, eyes fixed on yours, deep and full of desire. You shiver with anticipation, skin on fire from his lips. Almost hesitantly, you reach of and run your fingers through his hair.

König's eyes flutter shut for a moment, a soft, pleased noise sounding from his lips and he tilts his head into your hand. "Would you like more, meine engel? Mm?"

As if possessed, you nod. The fear you thought filled you, the hesitation to give yourself to this man, is erased, replaced by an overwhelming need for him.

He presses another kiss to your knee as a thank you, then trails his lips up your thigh and iver the fabric of your shorts. Its hard to tell who moans, especially since your mind blanks when you feel his hot breath against your core through the fabric of your shorts. Shivers wreak your body, and König holds your hips down with his hands, humming softly and cooing compliments, both in English and German. His fingers hook onto the waistband of your shorts, pulling them down your hips and sliding them off your legs. He leans back on his legs, admiring you. Smooth skin, legs spread, face flushed, pink lips parted and chest rising and falling woth every breath.

He leans back forward, your thin pair of panties the only thing between him and your cunt as he presses his face against the more vulnerable part of your body. Sucking in a loud breath of air, you grab his hair in your hands, your body reacting instinctively as you raise your hips closer to his face, chasing the feeling.

He moans, the vibrations adding to the pleasure spreading through your stomach. His hands slip from your waist to cup your ass, pulling you closer to the edge of the couch for better access. Slowly, teasingly, he pulls your panties off. He looks up at you, eyes begging for permission, and you nod breathlessly.

With permission, he dives in.

While you've been given oral before, nothing would've prepared you for the way he eats you out. Relentlessly, passionately, like he's been starving for years. He slurps up your juices like he's stranded in the desert amd your the only water he's had in days. His tongue presses flat against your clit before he tilts your hips more to lick from your labia to your clit, before entering his tongue inside of you.

You loose yourself in it, in his tongue inside of your and nose pressing against your clit, spit and juices covering his mouth and leaking onto the couch as you clutch at his head. You can't even muster a sentence, the only noises leaving your mouth being moans and whimpers, or the occasional plea for more.

König is more that happy to give you more. His pants are so tight around his throbbing dick, the pressure boarderline painful as he makes you come on his tongue. He thrust into nothing, eyes rolling back in his head as he releases in his pants without even being touched, just the sounds of your beautiful noises sending him ober the edge.

He doesn't stop eating you out, milking you and licking every bit of come leaking from your greedy pussy. Eventually, shaking and overwhelmed, you tug at his hair. Its then that he lifts his head, his lower dace covered in your arousal and you moan softly.

"Do you believe me now, meine Götten?"

Drained for your orgasm, bones liquid and body weak, all you can do is nod and listen as he laughs softly. He scoops your up in his arms, carrying you with ease to your bedroom and laying you down on the bed. König slips under the covers next to you, pulling you to him and making sure that you're comfortable.

"Meine engel, so pretty for me," he murmurs into your hair, pressing a soft kiss to your head. "Thank you for letting me prove to you that I mean no harm. I am sorry to not introduce myself before, I am König."

You tell him your name, tired and not thinking completely straight. He laughs, "I know that, engel. But it is nice to officially meet you."

You mumble something back, nuzzling into his chest and falling asleep.

During the night, König decides that your his, and when you wake up in the morning he wastes no time kissing you and informing you of that.

And how could you say no to such a devoted man?

[so-i-did-this-thing]

do you ever stop being scared of getting misgendered? this morning i went to a fun little grad party that my old school was throwing and it made me feel so terrified, cus i started transitioning after i left. i was so scared someone was gonna recognize me as the weird little girl no one liked so i didnt talk to anyone and honestly it was super lonely

Misgendering is unfortunately going to be one of those things you will need to learn to face. Let me tell you about some of my experiences.

I transitioned very publicly (the music world is very small) and the deliberate misgendering and "jokes" just made it clear who I would and would not go to bat for. Very important as someone who frequently put his job on the line to make sure people got paid fairly. One of the worst offenders was an orchestra owner I assembled a group suit against for non-payment, and by the end, he was terrified of me. I'm sure he still makes "jokes", but he also doesn't live in his fancy house anymore after all his payouts.

Being treated as a curiosity is going to happen. Even among "allies," you are going to get rude questions, accidental misgendering, and those lingering looks where people try to figure out what you look like naked, or how you did before HRT. You need to hold your head high and establish firm boundaries on inappropriate questions. This is hard to navigate, as you'll be spending a lot of emotional labor assuring some folks that they are not bad people, as they whine it's "so hard" to get your pronouns right. It's up to you to decide how much effort is worth it, and you can only really educate those who come to you in good faith.

What's worse, imo, is the misgendering that feels like a betrayal. In-laws who previously thought I was cis immediately started misgendering me when they learned I was trans. We are cordial now, over 10 years later, but that relationship is probably irrevocably damaged because they never apologized and furthermore, acted like a victim when confronted with their transphobia. But I treat it as their loss, not mine. I do a lot for my family, including the jobs no one else wants to do (mainly revolving around taking care of the dead & dying), but my sense of family obligation nonetheless has limits.

I also had a very, very long-time friend misgender me with growing frequency as he fell down the alt-right pipeline. I ended up abruptly cutting him out of my life, with the reminder to myself that a childhood based on proximity + pop culture things we both enjoyed is not necessarily a true friendship -- if we had met as adults, I would have instantly hated him.

So, misgendering is a scale, and I'd recommend you reflect upon the forms it can take, and how you'll respond. It's very, very important that there be penalties for it, from a stern talking-to to going no-contact.

But I will be honest -- I am openly trans partly out of defiance. I enjoy the cognitive dissonance people experience, especially when I end up being bigger (it does happen), better looking, more confident, and more successful than the naysayers think I should be.

And among allies, I enjoy when folks can compare the angry, shy, weird little girl they knew before to the calm, confident, yet still weird middle-aged man they still know, and acknowledge what I've overcome to thrive. I worked my butt off to get to where I am and am proud to have that recognized.

Ultimately, you likely need to reconcile how you feel about that weird little girl no one liked. Clearly, she was incredibly strong, if you're here today. Embrace and celebrate that part of yourself, especially for being a survivor. It makes it all the more difficult then, for anyone to weaponize who you used to be.

[arabellasfvv]

@girlfromflor this is your fault!! "He can't kiss you with a mouth full of toothpaste." (Go read that people.) Yes he can!

This lowkey just johnny being a lil nasty. MDNI 18+ I refuse to reread my stuff so if this sucks, too bad.

You hear him before you see him. Usually a stealthy man, but now his steps and grumbles echo through your shared flat. He's mad cause you managed to slip out of his arms before he even woke up.

How dare you escape his affections? How dare you steal him from the heavenly experience of waking up to your warmth, your sweet smell?

He throws the bathroom door open, and just stares at you. He would've dragged you against him if you weren't sitting on the toilet right now. There was a time where you would've been ashamed by him seeing you like this, but by now it was just a regular occurrence

"G'morning." "Good morning, johnny."

He huffs like you've personally offended him, when you flush and go to wash your hands. How dare you put hygiene over him?

But it finally gives him the chance to touch you. Stepping up behind you, thick arms wrapping around your middle, as he rests his head on your own. He does look adorable like this. Mohawk standing up into all directions, his face a little red and puffy, eyes practically still closed. He was like a sleepy, overgrown, kitty resting on you.

"Yer're pretty," he utters, his voice all raspy, his accent almost unbearably thick.

"As are you," you respond, reaching down and stroking along his arm. Tugging at the hair a bit just to watch him react.

"Rude." You laugh, offering a pat against the muscle as an apology.

He leans down, eager to feel your lips against his own. He is in pure disbelief when you turn away, might as well kick him in the balls, why don't ya? "S'cuse meh?"

"Your breath reeks, big guy. So does mine."

"Ah couldnae care less." Of course not. He never does, he has his tongue down your throat first thing in the morning multiple times a week.

You don't exactly protest. But still squeeze toothpaste onto his brush and holding it out for him to take before preparing your own.

He doesn't really pay attention to what he's doing, he's just watching you in the mirror. The way your pretty lips are parted, the way your hair is still a little messy, too. It's like throwing his brain straight into the gutter with all your might when a bit of foamy toothpaste ends up on your lips, and his thoughts just go all dirty.

A man only has so much self restraint. His toothbrush is thrown into the sink shortly after. He grabs your jaw and forces you to tilt your head toward him. He doesn't care about the sound of protest you make. Just smashes his chapped lips against your own.

He groans, with satisfaction at first, then frustration when he realizes he can’t even taste you. It's just that clean, minty taste.

But that doesn't stop him in the slightest.

Forces his tongue into your mouth, and you whine, because it's icky. He licks into your mouth, relishing in the way it squelches. Enough to make you cringe, while he just gets more into it. Reminds him of how your hole sounds when you fuck.

He's practically eating it up, you can feel him swallow, can hear it. That can't taste good. The way the frothy, slick toothpaste pushes past both your lips, sliding down both your chins, but only ends up dripping onto your chest.

You somehow manage to pull away for a second to catch your breath. Though, he really only gives you a second. He leans down, licking up the toothpaste that went down your chin before his tongue is back in your mouth, forcing the mixture in with the muscle.

You can't help the whorish moan you let out, and he swore he could taste that sound. Because it means you give in, no point in fighting. Your lips are wet and needy, your mouths parting too wide, uncoordinated, and fast. Teeth clashing, before tongues tangle.

And you want to be disgusted, the mix of his toothpaste spit that he's forcing into your mouth and your own going down your throat are not pleasant. But all you can think about are his hands roaming your body, groping every curve like he’s mapping you out. He is, he'll draw you later. Your nails are digging into his bare skin, leaving crescent shaped marks behind. The way he's pushing you against the countertop guarantees to bruise your hips.

His own hands slide back up your neck, greedy and unthinking, right through the thick smear of minty paste his mouth didn’t bother to clean. It squishes between his fingers, warm from the heat of your mouth. He lingers for a moment, as if he's thinking. Then smears it lower, dragging a stripe of white foam down your throat, over your collarbone. Damn him

"I told you to use lip balm," you scold between your heavy breaths when you do pull away.

He doesn't hear you, the words go right over his head. Her turns you around, making you face yourself in the mirror. Yeesh, your hair is all over the place, half your face and neck is white and smells minty, your sleep shirt is half torn off and stained with it too. And when he pushes up behind you, making you brace yourself against the counter, you know you're in for a loooong morning before breakfast even rolls around.

[harrywavycurly]

Worth The Fight: Good Hands

Masterlist: Here

CW: language, pregnancy things, jealousy, angsty bits and some light arguing.

A/N: This one is heavy-ish but has some light hearted moments so be prepared for some angsty bits but I’d say this is a very big step in a direction for them, is it the right direction? Only time will tell👀✨

Tag List: @kookjipao @msolbesg @lomlolivia @namoreno @outofthisworl-d @mema10 @watarmelon212 @natykn @sassamanda77 @st-ev-ie @ghayda0 @hannah9921 @indierockgirrl @chaoticthoughts2022 @lizsogolden @gmikaelson @styleswithaseaview @sofaritsalrightt @babegoals @fangirl509east @one-sweet-gubler @stylesftcher @umadirectioner @last-saturday-night @montgomery-929496 @laughterismytherapy @hisparentsgallerryy @jerseygirlinca @behindmygreyeyes

Summary: You decide to do some shopping for the twins while Harry decides he needs to apologize to you even if you’re not ready to hear it✨

You smile at the woman working by the door as you enter the small boutique that’s just down the street from the library you work at, you look around and suddenly feel extremely overwhelmed by the amount of baby things surrounding you. Being nearly thirteen weeks you finally decide that it’s okay to just take a look at things, seeing as you still don’t know if you’re carrying two boys, two girls or one of each you find yourself not exactly sure where to start. You look over and smile when you see a small section of onesies with animals all over them, you adjust your bag on your shoulder as you head over towards the table they are folded and laid out on.

“Oh the peaches will love those.” Ethan’s voice comes from behind you making you laugh as you feel a hand on your shoulder. “How’s my favorite produce dealer doing today? Have you eaten all the cookies my mom sent yet because I need the tin back.” You roll your eyes at the playful nickname he came up with for you ever since you started sharing the size of the twins with him as they grow each week, getting a kick out of the way all your apps are always referring to their sizes as vegetables or fruits.

“They aren’t quite peaches yet they have about four days till then so they are still lemons.” You explain as you rest a hand on your bump while looking at the little outfits on the table in front of you. “But I’m good just feeling tired today and uh no not yet there’s like fifty cookies in that tin Ethan and I may be pregnant but sweets don’t sit well with me right now.” You answer as the hand on your shoulder grabs the strap to your bag and without hesitation you let him take your purse and sling it over his shoulder making you let out a small sigh of relief once the weight of your bag is gone.

“She said they were what she liked when she was pregnant with me but that was also during Christmas time so that’s why they are pretty much all holiday themed.”

“That explains all the gingerbread men.”

“Exactly. So the peaches-”

“Lemons.”

“I mean come on they are pretty much a crossover between lemons and peaches right now so like leaches? Or is that-”

“Do not call my babies leaches Ethan.”

“Right sorry that was rude let’s just go back to looking at the cute and soft onesies okay?” He says in a slight panic not wanting to make you upset in the middle of a baby boutique having already made you accidentally cry in line at the bakery down the street from your apartment when he mentioned how good the blueberry muffins looked, forgetting all about your current aversion to the fruit ever since you tried a blueberry jam that didn’t sit well with you.

“You think the animals are cute? Or they have these.” You lift up a set of onesies that are white with gray and yellow polka dots on them so he can take a look from his spot behind you. “Is the gray and yellow too overdone?” You question as Ethan places a hand on each of your shoulders and gives them a nice rub making you relax as you look at the onesies in your hand.

“Yellow and gray is a classic color combination you can’t go wrong with it.” You let out a hum of agreement as he releases his grip on one of your shoulders so he can reach around you ever so slightly and grab the set with the animals on it. “But these are cute as shit.” He says with a smile as he looks down and sees you still holding the polka doted set.

“I could get both? Right?” Ethan just nods as you look at him with a quirked brow almost as if you’re seeking his approval.

“Excellent idea.” Is all he says before he takes the polka dotted set from your hands and holds it in the same one of his that has the animal set it. You smile as you feel him lean down and place a kiss to the top of your head. “I’m going to go look at all the weird baby gadgets.” He gives your shoulder one last squeeze before he turns and heads off towards the back of the store with the two sets of onesies in his hand and your purse slung over his shoulder.

Harry is chewing on his bottom lip as he walks down the street towards the library you work at, wondering if he’s doing the right thing coming to see you at work again when you haven’t reached out to him since the lunch at his mother’s house. He doesn’t want to make it a habit to just show up at your work when you refuse to speak to him or he can’t get ahold of you but right now he feels like this is the only way he can guarantee he will be able to talk to you. It’s been over two weeks and he just wants to get some things off his chest and maybe see if the two of you can start over and try to get to know each other a bit so the arguing can come to a stop or at the very least can be toned down. It’s not like he’s expecting the two of you to be bestfriends or anything, he just wants to be able to have normal conversations with you that don’t end with you in tears or annoyed with him.

He runs a hand through his hair and he feels as if the wind gets knocked out of him when he turns to his left and looks in the window of a store, he has to push his sunglasses into his hair so he can make sure he’s seeing things clearly and that the dark lenses weren’t causing him to mistake the person for someone else but the moment his eyes see the smile on the woman’s face he knows exactly who it is. You’re standing in front of a table of baby clothes but before he can even register that you’re looking at clothes for the twins, he quickly notices you’re not alone and all Harry can do is stand there and watch the scene unfold in front of him. He watches your neighbor stand behind you and place both of his hands on your shoulders and Harry feels his brows furrow as his eyes narrow into a glare at the way you seem to relax at his touch.

It’s then that Harry takes in the bag that’s slung over the man’s shoulder, it’s the godawful thing you call a purse and he doesn’t understand why he’s the one with it over his shoulder instead of you. Of all the times he’s been around you that bag is always over your shoulder and you’re either fighting with it to find something or trying to keep it in place making him assume you have a thing about keeping your bag with you. He feels his mouth drop into a frown as it dawns on him that maybe it’s not so much you like to keep it on you at all times, it’s just that Harry hasn’t ever tried or offered to take it from you minus when he snatched it from you in your hallway when you told him you didn’t want him to come inside.

Harry feels the all too familiar simmering of jealousy begin to bubble deep inside him as he realizes that to anyone passing by the two of you would seem like a normal couple shopping for baby things in this cute little boutique that just so happens to be a few minutes away from your work. They would have no clue that the babies the two of you are looking at onesies for are actually his, that the man currently making you smile is nothing more than just your neighbor you’re friends with or at least that’s all Harry thinks he is to you, a friend. That changes the moment he watches the man place a kiss to the top of your head, a very soft display of affection that has Harry’s hands clenching into fists at his sides because why is another man that he doesn’t even know the name of not only baby clothes shopping with you but also touching and now kissing on you in public while he can’t even manage to get you to want talk to him.

Harry decides he’s seen enough as he turns and heads back in the direction of his car that’s parked in some over priced daily parking garage because he was in too much of a rush to call for his driver and also because a part of him wanted to prove to you that he can in fact drive himself places when he needs or wants to. He slides his sunglasses back down so they cover his eyes, allowing his emotions to be somewhat hidden from the strangers passing him on the sidewalk while he reaches into his back pocket for his phone. His first instinct is to call his mom and talk through this with her, why seeing you out with someone else buying things for the twins is making him feel this way but he shakes his head as he scrolls past her contact because he has a feeling he knows what she’s going to say and he doesn’t exactly want to have that conversation right now. So he scrolls down to the name that he knows won’t ask questions and hopefully in a few hours Harry will forget all about what he saw in the window of that little shop and he’ll be able to try again tomorrow on telling you sorry.

“Hey H you finally have time for a round?” Harry laughs at how excited Niall sounds on the other end of the phone as he enters the main level of the parking garage his car is in.

“I do but uh not the kinda round you’re thinking of.” Harry says with a sigh and in true Niall fashion he just laughs and tells Harry to pick the pub and he’ll see him soon before hanging up.

“Oh fuck this hallway is so long-wait what floor is this?” Harry squints as he exits the elevator and when he sees the number five on the plaque on the wall he lets out a sigh of relief.

“Thank god.” He mumbles as he turns and heads down the hallway, half tempted to put his sunglasses back on due to the obnoxiously bright lights coming from the ceiling that while doing a good job at helping him see where he’s going and which apartment he’s walking by, are also intensifying the throbbing in the back of his head.

When he reaches the doors he’s looking for he closes his eyes just for a brief moment because keeping them closed for too long makes him a little dizzy. As soon as he opens them he raises a hand to knock, not caring about the fact it’s near three in the morning because to Harry it’s a new day and he has things he needs to tell you. He stands there and rests a hand on your doorframe as he waits for you to answer, when he doesn’t even hear the sound of you moving around on the other side of the door he knocks two more times because unlike the last time he was here knocking on your door he knows you’re home having seen your sad little car in the parking lot when his driver pulled into the complex.

“I know you’re home you’ve-you’ve got to be home.” He mumbles with a sigh as he turns so his back is resting against your door, before he can even stop himself he feels his body sliding down it until his bottom is hitting the floor and his legs are stretched out in front of him.

“I’m-I’m sorry I’m so sorry.” His voice is strained as he tries to get comfortable resting against your door, finally deciding to put his sunglasses back on in an effort to help slow down the throbbing that’s making its way from the back of his head towards his temples. He rests his head against your door with a groan as he tries to gather his thoughts so he can try to explain to you why he’s been acting the way he has ever since you told him you were pregnant.

You have to close your eyes and take a few deep breaths to get your emotions under control as you stand on the other side of the door that you now know is being used at a backrest for a slightly drunk Harry. You didn’t need to look through the peephole to know it was him, you knew by the first set of knocks and the mumbled voice that you could hear from your bedroom that it was Harry because he’s the only person that would ever bother you at this hour unless it was an emergency but even then normally people just call or text you, not show up at your door. You place a hand on your bump that’s covered by your nightshirt and give it a soothing rub as you stand there, deciding that even though you’re not ready to see him you’ll let him sit there and get whatever it is he needs to say off his chest so he can go home.

“I shouldn’t have left you that day-uhm during the exam.” He says as he looks up towards the ceiling. You swallow the lump that’s already forming in your throat, as being woken up abruptly and now hearing him apologize start to make a mess of your emotions that have already been kind of all over the place recently.

“I’m sorry I keep saying the wrong things and-and hurting you s’not what I want ya know? To hurt you.” Harry sniffles and lets out a sarcastic sounding scoff at his own words as you look down at your ankles and smile at Paris who has taken an almost protective stance, standing between you and the door. “S’hard to believe I know but fuck-you’re just so relaxed all the time n’it freaked or-really it freaks me out a bit.” He admits making you roll your eyes while he runs both hands through his hair.

“But my uhm therapist says s’a control thing an that’s why I lash out at you.” You quirk an eyebrow at the mention of his therapist, feeling a bit shocked he’s spoken to anyone besides Anne about the two of you.

“Because you-you have all the control here and have since day one like you-even when you told me you were pregnant you just I don’t know? You had it all figured out already? You were having a baby with or without me while I was fumbling around and panicking and deep down I uh know that you-you don’t need me and that’s sort of uhm my thing? I need to be needed I’m a bit of a narcissist and-and you just don’t need me like- at all and I mean that’s-that’s fine or I’m learning to uhm be fine with it.” You feel your heart drop at how sincere he sounds as he speaks between little sniffles, you know his emotions are getting the best of him when it’s quiet for a moment minus a watery sigh and then you have to close your eyes and fight back the tears that want to spill over as you hear his voice sound so desperate as it comes through your door.

“But I need you Cranky I need-I need you because I need them so just-just tell me what to do and I’ll do it okay?” Harry lets a few tears roll down his face as he practically begs you to just tell him what to do to make this situation right.

“Please.” He whispers in a last ditch effort to get you to talk to him. You let out a deep breath before you reach out and unlock your door and turn the knob so you can open it. Harry feels his heart begin to beat quicker and before he can even register that you’re really opening the door and willing to see him and possibly talk to him he finds himself laying flat on his back looking up at you from the floor, the shots he took with Niall a few hours ago making his reflexes slower than normal not giving him time to move from his sitting position with his back resting on your door before you swung it open.

“Hi Harry.” You say with a small smile as you look down at him, Harry just smiles as he reaches for the sunglasses still covering his eyes quickly pulling them off so he can get a better look at you.

“Cranky you’ve-wow.” You raise an eyebrow at him suddenly feeling a little self concious as his eyes go a bit wide as he takes in how much bigger your bump looks, especially from the angle he’s currently getting from his spot on the floor. “Lemons still right? Peaches in four-no wait now three days?” He asks and you just nod as you place both hands on your bump while he takes his time getting up, feeling a bit dizzy due to looking up from his back for too long.

“Do you mind uhm staying in-”

“Yeah yeah that’s fine I uh-I’m sorry for waking you up.” He says when you motion towards the hallway once he’s up and standing, already knowing what you’re asking of him, and he will happily stand in the hallway while the two of you talk because he’s just happy you actually opened the door. You open your mouth to say something but then you hear the jingling of a bell and both you and Harry look down and find Paris rubbing his head on Harry’s shin and you have to hold back a laugh as Harry’s eyes widen in fear.

“Oh god Paris please don’t-oh fuck god damnit that hurts.” Paris just purrs and rubs the same ankle he just took a bite of before he turns and heads back into your apartment, strutting off towards the kitchen as if he’s proud of himself for what he’s just done. “I deserved that.” Harry mumbles making you just shrug as he runs a hand over his face.

“So Mr. Popular is a narcissist huh? I never would’ve guessed.” Harry feels his cheeks get hot at your teasing words. He sniffles a bit and rubs the tip of his nose with the knuckle of his index finger while giving you a small shrug because he’s not sure what to say. “I appreciate you coming here to apologize Harry but uhm I also know you’re a little-”

“I’m not that drunk-m’tipsy at best and I swear I’d say the same things sober.”

“I believe you but it’s just everything can sort of seem a bit more emotional and heavy when said at three in the morning outside an apartment door after too many whiskey sours.”

“Who talks like that? Honestly you-you spend too much time surrounded by books.”

“Harry-”

“I’m sorry that was rude.” He lets out a sigh as he looks down at his feet. “I don’t know why I do this? Why I can’t help myself sometimes I just-you’re so easy to argue with?” You rub your lips together to hold off the smile that wants to form because he looks so distraught standing there with a hand in his hair and another on his hip as he tries to make sense of his need to just bicker with you as if it’s all his fault and you don’t also enjoy how easy it is to rile him up.

“You’re fairly easy to set off and I seem to know exactly how to do it.” Harry lifts his head to look at you as you start to speak. “We both enjoy a bit of back and forth but sometimes Harry you just say things that are very hurtful and very hard to take back.” You explain as you look down at your hands that are on your bump, trying not to think about some of the things he’s said to you in the past that have made you upset.

“I know and I’m-I’m working on that.”

“With your therapist?” You ask as you look up at him and he just nods making you feel that there might actually be a some hope that the two of you will be able to figure this whole communication thing out. “So are you really ready to be apart of this then?” Harry takes a very small step towards you just so he can reach a hand out, you look at it questioningly for a moment before you give in and place one of your hands in his.

“I don’t want to be outside the window.” He says as he gives your hand a squeeze, you look at him with a slightly confused expression because you’re not entirely sure what he means by that but you don’t want to ruin the moment so you just let him continue. “I want to be the one inside with you looking at baby stuff and holding your god awful fucking bag and-”

“Well well well if it isn’t Mr. Asshole himself.” Ethan’s voice coming from down the hall makes Harry’s eyes go wide as he drops your hand while you turn and look at your neighbor who you know is just getting home from work. “I see you’re really living up to that nickname since you have her up out of bed at this ungodly hour.” You roll your eyes at him as Harry turns so he’s facing Ethan who is now only a few steps away from the two of you.

“It’s Mr. Popular not-”

“Aren’t assholes usually popular? So it’s basically the same thing.”

“It’s nowhere near the same and-who even are you? Besides the guy who feeds her cat on Fridays?”

“I’m Ethan her neighbor but also the friend who picked her up from your mom’s house crying a week and a half ago.” Harry’s face goes pale as he realizes your neighbor is the one who came and got you from lunch, you watch Ethan take a step so he’s standing in front of his door facing Harry as he swings his key ring around his index finger a few times.

“Oh and I’m the guy who she calls when she needs something because unlike you Mr. Gucci sunglasses even though it’s dark outside-” Ethan takes his time eyeballing Harry’s attire before he continues. “I’m a source of comfort for her and those little peaches. I’m also right across the hall so I’m always available.” You feel the tension in the air as Ethan glares at Harry who is glaring right back but with a clenched jaw and a hand balled into a fist at his side.

“Those little peaches? You mean lemons?”

“Really? That’s-that’s what you got out of that?”

“I mean I think it shows that you might be the comforting neighbor.” You begin to chew on your bottom lip as Ethan crosses his arms over his chest and raises an eyebrow at the slightly tipsy man in front of him. “But clearly I’m their dad because I actually know how big they are.” You can’t help but chuckle at how proud Harry looks when he says the word dad while Ethan just rolls his eyes making you move to the side a bit from your spot behind Harry so Ethan can see you allowing you to give him a warning type glare.

“Oh so now you’re ready to be a dad huh? Well good. I’m glad because honestly picking out baby shit isn’t really a good look for me.”

“Either is holding her purse-that thing looks hideous on you.”

“I mean it’s a hideous bag-wait what? When have you ever seen me with her purse?”

“Today or uh technically yesterday? In that shop near her uhm work.” Harry admits shyly and that’s when it all clicks, his mentioning of the window and looking at baby things, it’s because he saw you and Ethan at the boutique. You close your eyes and run a hand over your face as a long sigh escapes you making both men turn their heads to look at you.

“Is that why you got drunk and came knocking at my door?” Harry swallows hard as he all of a sudden feels a wave of nervousness wash over him because he doesn’t want his answer to ruin the slight progress that’s been made while standing outside your door this morning.

“Uh well-yes that’s sort of the reason why I met Niall-”

“Niall? Niall Horan? Is he here?” Harry turns to look at Ethan with a quirked brow as your neighbor looks up and down the hallway for any signs of the Irish popstar.

“Uh no he’s at home.” He answers making Ethan let out a huff while Harry turns his attention back to you. “But the whole reason I even saw you two was because uhm well because I was on my way to the library to see you. I just needed to talk to you and tell you how sorry-”

“You can’t just show up at my work whenever you want because you need to talk to me Harry especially when you know how it went the last time we even saw each other that’s just-that’s not okay.” Harry just nods because he already knew that, before he even got in his car to drive to your work to see you he knew it probably wasn’t a good idea but he had to do something and that was the only thing that he could think of.

“I know I won’t do it again.”

“Wait you saw us at that boutique and that’s why you went and got drunk on a Wednesday?” Ethan’s voice takes Harry’s attention away from you and you watch Ethan place his keys in his back pocket before putting his hands on his hips.

“I don’t like what you’re implying.”

“What I’m implying? Dude I’m not implying shit. Just admit it you got jealous-”

“Jealous? Jealous of what? Of you? Yeah right State Farm.” You take a step around Harry so you can be ready to stop the two of them from getting any closer to each other when you see Harry take a step towards Ethan.

“State Farm? That’s cute and honestly it’s true because I am a good neighbor but do you see these?” Harry’s brows furrow as Ethan wiggles his fingers a few inches away from Harry’s face. “I am clearly Allstate because she is very much in good hands.” You roll your eyes at the two of them as you cross your arms over your chest not believing the conversation they are having in front of you.

“What does he mean by that? You’re in good hands? Have you-you been in his hands?” Ethan has to bring a hand up to cover his mouth to hide his laugh as Harry quickly turns to look at you with frantic eyes while he runs a hand through his hair. You let out a sigh and glare at Ethan who is quick to turn around and face his door so he can unlock it.

“What? No we aren’t-”

“I’m sorry it’s not uhm it’s not uh-not my business I’m sorry.” Harry fumbles over his words as he begins to turn taking a few steps backwards towards the elevators as his mouth drops to a frown and you feel the corners of your own mouth fall a bit at how hurt he looks. “It’s fine really I uhm I gotta go.” You want to tell him to stop and just let you explain your friendship with Ethan but Harry doesn’t give you a chance because before you can even open your mouth he’s turning around so his back is facing you and he’s three steps away from you. But you know you can’t let him leave like this so you let out a huff and take a step towards him and call his name.

He pauses and looks over his shoulder as his name falls from your mouth. “Tell Nick I said hello?” He gives you a small smile and nods as you mention his driver who is waiting for him in the parking lot down stairs.

“Yeah I’ll uh I’ll do that.” You smile and before he turns to head towards the elevators you see a very familiar glint appear in his eyes as the corners of his mouth curl up in a smirk. “Goodnight Cranky.”

“You mean good morning Mr. Popular.” You correct making him laugh and shake his head as he turns and continues down the hallway because of course you just have to correct him because of course you just have to be right.

“Oh he totally thinks we are fucking.” Ethan says with a laugh as he stretches his neck a bit just in time to see Harry step into the elevator. As soon as he’s out of sight you turn and give Ethan a smack to the chest making him let out a pitiful sounding groan. “So violent in front of the children.”

“Don’t be so crude. He at least thinks something is happening here and we both know it’s not.”

“What he doesn’t know won’t kill him.”

“Uh yeah Ethan it actually might? He came here after getting drunk all because he saw us shopping together.”

“Yeah well I say let him suffer a bit and think we are doing something scandalous and then when he’s maybe stopped being an absolute douchebag for more than a day you can tell him the truth.”

“God you just love drama don’t you?”

“I’m a young bisexual man my whole life is drama.” He teases as you stand in your doorway with a hand on your bump and the other resting on your doorframe. “But honesty him showing up here is like-”

“A big deal. I know.” You finish for him, the two of you stare at each other for a moment before Ethan takes the few steps between his door and yours and places a quick kiss to the top of your head.

“Everything is gonna be fine.” He reassures you before he opens his apartment door. You give him a smile when he looks at you over his shoulder. “Sweet dreams Cranky.” He jokes making you roll your eyes as he closes his door.

You can’t help but make a sour face at the sound of your nickname coming from someone else’s mouth besides Harry’s. Not liking how it sounds without his accent and deep tone of voice and how slowly it slips out of his mouth making it sound all the more condescending which is oddly something you enjoy about the way he says it. You turn and walk through your open door and let out a long sigh after you close it, you head back towards your bedroom and smile when you see Paris curled into a ball at the foot of the bed.

“Oh Paris.” You mumble as you climb back into bed making the cat instantly lift his head up and stretch his front paws out at the disturbance. “What just happened?” You ask as you stare at the ceiling trying to make sense of the events that just took place in your hallway, but as the minutes tick by and you find yourself falling asleep you decide you can try to decipher and dig deeper into all of that later because right now all you want to do is go back to sleep and momentarily forget that the man you’re having kids with knocked on your door a three in the morning just to leave in a frantic hurry forty five minutes later.

Harry feels as if he’s a mixed bag of emotions as he steps into the elevator, the first one being confusion because he’s not even sure why he cares if you and your overly friendly neighbor are more than friends because it’s not as if Harry has any sort of claim on you minus the fact he’s the father of the two lemon sized babies you’re carrying. He’s even gone as far as telling you he doesn’t like you enough to care about anyone you find remotely attractive but that brings him to the next emotion, jealousy. Harry has always been the jealous type, that’s just part of his personality but this is something different because he feels as if he could punch a wall at just the memory of seeing Ethan kiss the top of your head and holding your shoulders in such a way that would have people assume he’s your partner of some sort. The most powerful emotion swirling around in Harry’s body though is regret, he regrets walking away and not letting you explain things but he just couldn’t risk having to listen to you tell him you’re in love with Ethan or that you two have only gotten so close because Harry has made you turn to him for comfort and reassurance due to how horrible he’s treated you. He doesn’t think he would be able to stand knowing that it’s his own fault that you ended up in the arms of someone else, not that he wants you in his own arms either because he doesn’t, or at least that’s what he’s telling himself.

“I could go back? Let her tell me-no no that would be dumb.” He argues with himself as he presses the button for the lobby. “Why do I even care? Do I even care? No. No I don’t.” He lets out a frustrated groan as he paces the length of the small elevator while debating with himself. “Exactly. I don’t care. She can be with whoever she wants. That’s fine.”

“I don’t care.” He mumbles as the door opens to the lobby of your apartment complex. He runs a hand over his face as he steps out and heads for the parking lot. He looks around and sees Nick is parked towards the back of the lot, he mentally pats himself on the back for picking a time of day that not a lot of people are out and about so Harry doesn’t have to worry too much about being seen as he walks towards the black suv.

“How’d it go?” Nick asks once Harry is in the backseat of the car. He raises an eyebrow as he looks over his shoulder when hears Harry lets out a long sad sigh.

“Next time I ask you to drive me here past midnight tell me no.” Harry instructs as he slides his sunglasses on and turns to look out the window. Nick just nods before he turns and faces the front so he can start the car and take Harry home.

[rene-darling]

Innocent scaramouce first time with dom fem reader?

Innocent little kabukimono

...yandere reader...red flag reader!...toxic relationships please do not imitate irl...I think.. I took way too much creative liberty with this..but-...im tired of seeing innocent readers x corrupted men. We need so corrupted yandere-ish readers!...

...kabukimono x yandereish reader...

Innocent little kabukimono who knows nothing of real life, and is just oh so naive. And you, this corrupted person who goes around doing whatever they please, leading on a man and then ditching him for good, a cruel harbinger who revels in the suffering of the innocent, and oh my is he innocent.

Kabukimono who doesn't know right from wrong, he doesn't even have life's most basic skills. The perfect man for you to corrupt.

Kabukimono who doesn't know that kisses are only meant to be shared by lovers and to be done in private, so you might be in the middle of talking to another harbinger when he approaches you and casually leaves a kiss on your lips.

The other harbinger and your underlings are left in a state of shock. He kissed you And he still has his head?? Kabukimono notices their weird stares and questions them "Hm? Do you not know? This is something friends do with each other!" he informs them proudly. He's your dearest friend.

Dear little kabukimono who gets scared when you come home drenched in blood, but you just smile at him and open your arms. He knows he can't deny you, you told him that denying your friend's hug is very rude!

So he hugs your bloody form, shivering a bit. You're so cold, like a corpse. It's okay. You reassure him, that you were just getting rid of some bad guys. Some real baddies who harm the innocent. This reassures him, wow, you're so cool! You help people by getting rid of bad guys right? Wow!

Innocent kabukimono who admires you so much. You're the coolest person out there, and he trusts you.

Pure little kabukimono who tries making you some yummy food, only to fail since for some reason it always turns out to sour, too hot, or just burnt. It was like someone was messing with him and doing it on purpose.

And when he tells you that he's messed up yet again and sees how your face falls, he can't deal with it. He's so dumb, so stupid, he can't help it! He can't do anything without you. So he starts crying, soft little hiccups turn into full-on sobs as globs of tears fall from his eyes.

Who hugs you and apologizes over and over, he's sorry he's such a dummy! He'll learn! He'll be more useful to you, he doesn't know where the dish went wrong! Please don't abandon him, he's sorry for being useless!

And it brings him so much comfort when you hug him back, holding his tiny waist as you almost feel bad for purposefully messing up his dish, not that you'll actually apologize and tell him.

When you're sitting on the couch and you pull him onto your lap, it startles him. He shifts around a bit uncomfortably, but it's fine, he'll manage. You tell him that this is what friends do! And since you both are such close friends he doesn't complain when you pull him into your lap, even in front of other people

Eventually, he gets used to it, when you assure him that, this is what friends do- and you're his dearest friend aren't you?

He's used to it. He's trained for it. He could simply be doing some work around the house but the second you pat your lap he drops whatever he's doing, crawling onto your lap like a cat.

He doesn't know any better, so while you're in important meetings with the harbingers he'll simply crawl onto your lap like it's his own personal bed. The other harbingers always stutter in their next words- they just never seem to get used to your little boytoy

Some of the harbingers find it rather amusing, questioning why you've kept him around this long. They've never seen you with one of your boy toys after the first 3 weeks. You simply shrug, perhaps it's his innocence, his naivety to the world..and people, around him. Whatever it is, he proves to be entertaining. Which is why you just can't get rid of him yet.

Cute little kabukimono who ignores any red flags. You following him around whenever you have some free time, or sending one of your henchmen after him whenever you aren't available. What do you mean that's weird? No- you just care for your friend, he's your dearest friend after all! You just wanna make sure nothing bad happens!

Innocent kabukimono who you've quickly learned has no idea of what intimacy is. He doesn't know the first thing about- love making.

Kabukimono who sits on your lap like another day, resting his head back onto your shoulder, you can hear his quiet breaths and whispers as he mumbles and rambles about his day thinking you were listening. You on the other hand were occupied by your own deranged thoughts, ...it's been long enough..hasn't it? You're sure he can handle you- fondling him further..right? You mean he should. You've done so much for him, and he can barely even cook a proper meal for you.

Biting down harshly on his neck while he was leaning it back on your shoulder eliciting gasps and whines from him. He tries grabbing your head, trying to push you away. It hurts! But you're too strong. So he sits there helpless tugging at your hair softly as he lets out little moans as you suck on his neck. He feels heat pool in between his legs... it's so weird..he doesn't like it.

Later that day he stares at himself in the mirror. Examining the big red purple-ish mark you left. Afterward, he questions you about it. Huffing as he asks the reason behind this strange good feeling mark you've left.

You reassure him, it's simply because he's your dearest friend. And you just want people to know that he's yours, he belongs to you. And no one else.

[sweetdispatch]

Going to bed angry at each other

Players headcanons summary: how certain players would solve the argument you had players: Cole Caufield, Adam Fantilli, Nico Hischier, Jack Hughes, Luke Hughes, Quinn Hughes, Clayton Keller, John Marino, Matt Rempe, Juraj Slafkovsky

C. CAUFIELD

When you told Cole that you’re sleeping in the guest room, he tried to shrug it off. He acted like he’s unbothered and that you’re acting like a child but deep down, he was mad at himself. He was mad that the argument went so far that you can’t even sleep in the same bed as him. He tried to fall asleep but the bed was cold without you next to him. After an hour of trying to get some sleep, he went to the guest room for you. “You can be mad at me as much as you want but please come back to bed”. You didn’t say a word to him but followed him to the bedroom. As much as you wanted to stay away from him, you missed him. 

A.FANTILLI

When you left the room in the middle of the argument, Adam knew this won’t end well but he was too stubborn. You went back to the bedroom after an hour but didn’t say a word. You just laid in the bed and tried to get some sleep. Your back was facing him because you didn’t want to see him. He tried to hug you but every time you threw his hand from your waist. He sighed and started apologising to you. The last thing he wanted was going to sleep when you two are mad at each other. You still didn’t say a word but this time, you let him keep his hand on your waist. 

N. HISCHIER

When you stormed out of the bedroom, Nico was even more mad at you. He hates that you’re ignoring the problem and acts like a kid by leaving him in the middle of the argument. He tried to go on with his day but when the evening came and you went to the guest room instead of his bedroom, he was hurt. The argument never went this far that you were sleeping mad at each other. That’s why he went to apologize to you. You two had a proper conversation about what happened earlier. 

J. HUGHES

You and Jack rarely argue but when this happened it was always a rough one. You slammed the door and left the apartment. You couldn’t stand him being there so you went to sleep at your friend's place. At first he wasn’t bothered by your outburst but when the clock showed 1am and you still weren’t home, he started calling you. He wanted to apologize, he wanted you to return home. None of you could sleep that night, all the time playing this argument in each other's head. You got back home the next morning and he jumped straight into apologising. 

L. HUGHES

You two had an argument in the morning. You were mad at him for being ignorant and he was mad that you’re overreacting. You were giving him silent treatment and like never, he wasn’t talking to you. You were trying not to get into each other's way for the whole day. You grabbed your pillow and went to the guest room to stay away from him. What you didn’t expect was a text message from him saying “I love you”. You went to ask him about it and he explained to you that no matter how mad you’re at each other, he won’t fall asleep without telling you those words. You smiled and laid next to him trying to find a solution in this argument. 

Q. HUGHES

For the whole day the negative emotions were bubbling in you and Quinn. Instead of talking, you were just throwing rude comments at each other. When you two were getting to bed, none of you said a word. You were mad at him for acting like a child and he was mad at you for being so stubborn. You couldn’t get any sleep just like him. In the middle of the night, you started talking to him and you tried to sort things out. He was more than willing to talk with you because this whole citation showed him that it’s not worth it to stay mad. 

C. KELLER

When Clayton slammed the door of the bedroom you just sighed. You knew that both of you were wrong in this argument but none of you wanted to admit to this. You just laid in bed hoping that he would come back but this didn’t happen. You two slept in different beds but under the same roof for the first time and it was horrible. Both of you had a lack of sleep, overthinking the whole argument. The next morning you jumped into each other's arms apologising for the last night. 

J. MARINO

None of you wanted to give up during the argument. You two said a lot of hurtful words until something broke in you. You left the room and locked yourself in the guest bedroom. John only sighed and let you be by yourself. When he was laying in bed trying to fall asleep, he heard you crying in the other room. In no time, he ran to you and pulled you close to his body. He was whispering you sweet words to help you calm down. He took you to the bedroom and hugged you for the whole night knowing that tomorrow you two have a lot to talk about. 

M. REMPE

When you laid in the bed, mad after an earlier argument, Matt tried to apologise. He didn't fight to take the sleep from you. You weren’t listening to him, still furious about what happened that day. He didn’t give up and was talking to you no matter if you’re listening or not. He wanted to explain his point of view. When he finished and you still didn’t say a word, he turned around to give you space. You tried to stay mad at him but you couldn’t. You hugged him and also apologised. 

J. SLAFKOVSKY

When you left the bedroom, Juraj thought you needed a couple of minutes to calm down and you’ll be back. After thirty minutes, he realised that you just left him there. That’s why he went to the living room and saw you laying under the blanket trying to get some sleep. He laughed quietly. This brought up your attention and you looked at him. He apologised to you and asked you to return to bed. Without a word, you followed him and hugged him while laying in bed.

[deepspacedarling]

LADS Movie Theater Headcanons

Warnings: None it's just silly.

AN: I want to see a movie with my boys :( This will have to do.

Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus, Caleb

Xavier

Might fall asleep during the movie if he's not careful. Even if he does, he'll tell you he liked the movie after its done. He has no idea what happened during it but what you don't know won't hurt you.

Sneaks in snacks. You don't know where he's hiding them but he's got a whole family sized bag of chips for you.

Actually wants to watch the opening commercials mostly so that anytime you say you want to see one of the films he can make a mental note to take you.

Zayne

If someone is talking, he'll whisper to you about how rude they're being. If they talk for too long, he'll go get someone who works there to tell them to shut up.

Will mention how dirty the theater is at least once. Not enough times to be annoying but you can see it in his eyes that he's wondering how often the place is thoroughly cleaned. It's not.

Doesn't like recliner seats at the theaters. He's sitting upright. He also bought a bunch of candy to eat while you watch the movie.

Rafayel

He's a movie talker but only at home. At the movies theater he's silent. He'll snap at anyone who is talking in the theater though. He's a "HEY, DOWN IN FRONT!" kind of guy.

He's dropped snacks and drinks on the floor before so he's careful to make sure he doesn't. He always drops something anyway. Every. Time.

After the movies over, he'll spend the next hour talking to you about the movie and what he liked and didn't like. He's a yapper in general so he likes to critique the film especially the camerawork. If it's an animated movie, he'll talk for even longer.

Sylus

Bought you a bunch of snacks from the concessional stand. If there's limited edition popcorn bowls, he bought those too.

While he does think it's cute if you ask him to sneak into a movie with you, it also makes him look broke. He's paying for tickets. You guys can sneak in illegally somewhere else later if you want.

Likes to sit directly in the middle of the theater. The back is too far away, the front means he's craning his neck. Honestly, just let him rent out a whole theater for your movie. It'll save you both the trouble.

Caleb

His phone starts ringing and he's apologizes until he manages to turn it off. It won't ring for the rest of the movie but the mortification will last that long.

He'll sneak into the theater with you if you ask him to. It reminds him of when you two were kids and he likes doing silly illegal things with you.

He'd prefer to just pirate the movie online and watch it with you at home. He gets to cuddle with you on the couch that way. But! He'll go if you ask. He'll do anything for you.

Requests are Open!!

[uolarieclosed]

lee heeseung ☆ ! if you let me

━━━ in which you make quite the impression on lee heeseung who became head over heels in love with you …

SCHOOL BOYFRIEND HEESEUNG who first fell in love with you when you punched him in the face for being rude.

SCHOOL BOYFRIEND HEESEUNG who couldn’t stop smiling while his friends took him to the infirmary. despite getting his shit rocked, he remembered your pretty face.

SCHOOL BOYFRIEND HEESEUNG who really confirmed his feelings after you apologized with a pack of frozen peas upon seeing the large bruise forming around his eye.

SCHOOL BOYFRIEND HEESEUNG who started pestering you everyday to go on a date with him.

“it’s just ice cream, jongseob told me you liked pistachio and i know a really good place.” heeseung followed you around the classroom. “you mean the same jongseob you were being an asshole to?” you halt, facing heeseung with a scowl—and he swore he felt his heart explode.

SCHOOL BOYFRIEND HEESEUNG who finally got you on a date and was beyond ecstatic. however he’s never been more nervous; pacing around his room looking for the perfect outfit and standing in front of the mirror practicing his greeting to you.

SCHOOL BOYFRIEND HEESEUNG who had to resist the urge to not kiss you after walking you to your door, but he was even more shocked when you kissed him on the cheek, running into your house.

SCHOOL BOYFRIEND HEESEUNG who met you at your locker the next morning, handing you the latte he argued with a freshman over.

SCHOOL BOYFRIEND HEESEUNG who writes down every little thing you tell him. ranging from your favorite foods to your sibling’s birthdays.

“you remembered?” you open the gift box that held your favorite lipstick inside—knowing it had been discontinued. “i listen to everything you say.” you wrap your arms around him, muttering a thank you.

SCHOOL BOYFRIEND HEESEUNG who keeps his hand in your back pocket wherever you two go out and when he wants your attention, he spins you around by your belt hoop.

SCHOOL BOYFRIEND HEESEUNG who holds your things over his head to get you riled up.

“you’re gonna have to jump higher than that angel.” he laughs while standing on his tippy toes.

SCHOOL BOYFRIEND HEESEUNG who will embarrass himself for your entertainment. such as dancing to your favorite songs in public, letting you try your new makeup products on him, and allowing you recite all of the texts he sends you to your friends.

SCHOOL BOYFRIEND HEESEUNG who gets more affectionate and clingy when he drinks too much at a party he shouldn’t have been at.

“have you always looked this beautiful?” “i can’t believe you’re all mine.” “i think i want you to have all of my children.” “shut up heeseung.”

SCHOOL BOYFRIEND HEESEUNG who wraps his embroidered uniform tie around you so no one even thinks of approaching you when he isn’t around.

SCHOOL BOYFRIEND HEESEUNG who falls asleep with you in class so both of you get in trouble and he can sneak a couple kisses in detention.

“it’s just us angel, the teacher left a while ago.” heeseung tightens his hold around your waist, keeping you on his lap while he leans in with a cocky smirk.

SCHOOL BOYFRIEND HEESEUNG who shows up at your house in the middle of the night with bloodied knuckles and a torn lip. he jokes about how it reminds him of the day you punched him, to which you scold him.

SCHOOL BOYFRIEND HEESEUNG who knows he’s a pain in the ass but he would do anything for you.

© 2024 uolarie

[blusool]

how bakugou would react to his child telling his mom to shut up?

Katsuki has always had his doubts when it came to parenthood. However the first day he held his baby boy to his chest after his birth, he felt all his fears disappear in thin air. The comfortable weight of his tyke somehow was enough to silence his fears of being a good father.

When he found his little brat inherited the same quirk as him, he was over the moon. Their bond only grew stronger and stronger through their endless training and practice at his agency. After all, if Katsuki was anything, he was a family man.

With his son growing in a young adolescent, Katsuki could see only more of himself in his boy. The same brash attitude he once strutted around the campus of his middle school. Their mannerisms hardly differed as they sat discussing on the couch, his sweet little wife tucked under his arm.

"This is heaven" He couldn't help but think. There he was, living a life his younger self could never have imagined. Yet this was all he needed. The most important two people of his life, right here with him. The explosive pro hero's train of thought was rudely interrupted however by the loud sneer of his son.

"Shut it mom- we're busy"

The words that left his son's mouth in a fleeting moment, left a bitter look on Katsuki's face. How could Katsuki ever miss the way his wife tensed under his arm, a look at her and he would have seen the tears that rushed to her lash line. However he didn't know if he was strong enough to see that at the moment.

Had he not been holding his wife to his side, he would have flown into a rage. Katsuki loved his boy to pieces, but his wife had been the one to teach him how to love. His wife had stuck out his explosiveness, all the crude remarks and his constant hot and cold behavior throughout his UA years, and made herself a home in his heart. So no matter who it was, Katsuki wasn't gonna have it.

"What did you say, brat!"

Katsuki snaps back, his voice dangerously low as if daring his son to try to repeat himself. Holding his wife protectively to his side, his thumb subconsciously rubs circles on her arm in an attempt to comfort her, while his teen could only look at him dumbfounded. Frozen still in place for Katsuki was never like this at home, his anger never directed towards him especially.

"Dad I-"

"Apologize. Now."

Katsuki said coldly. He wasn't the one for any dumb excuses and his son's malicious tone towards his wife wasn't something he was just gonna tolerate.

"Katsu, it's okay"

He could hear his wife mumble softly, her warm hand pressed his chest, coaxing him gently to let go of the matter. He was only a teenager after all, isn't this what they do, his wife believed. Katsuki however, didn't believe the same. Had the remark been directed towards Katsuki he would have let go of it, getting back to him a crude comment of himself, but this was his sweet little wife. He couldn't even remember one instance of her raising her voice to discipline their son, she's always been kind and gentle in her parenting methods, offering only the utmost support. So no, it wasn't okay in eyes Katsuki's eyes.

"I'm sorry mom... I shouldn't have done that. I didn't- ..mean to"

His son replies, his head hung shamefully as he takes a moment to reflect what he had just done. Katsuki had raised him to be gentleman through and through. Every step of the way, reminding him how his mother deserved only the best in the world. So for him to snap at his mom was out of character for him, but he would say the stress of school and preparing for UA was getting to him, resulting in him snapping at the only person his heart trusted not to hate him for it.

"Try that once more and we'll have long talk about it. And I can promise you the next time we train you won't have it easy"

Katsuki threatens lightly, knowing he had the little smack to his chest coming as his wife chuckled shyly as his protective instinct. Maybe he meant it, but his wife didn't have to know that he wasn't kidding. Of course he would never hurt his own son, but of course he could tire him out until his body had no energy to snap at his own mother of all people.

His wife's chuckle however was enough to lighten the air around them. The little bakugou earning a little tug on his ear to make sure he understood his lesson. All the while he smiled sheepishly, moving to sit on the floor in front of his mother, burying his head in her lap as a silent apology, seeking her reassurance.

Katsuki could have been the strongest damn hero to exist, but again, he was only a family man after all and the sight was enough to soften his iron heart. His wife tucked under his arm, rubbing the head of his now teen boy.

"brat"

Katsuki mumbles softly, tucking his wife's under his chin as he starts his earful lecture for his son about his wife being 'the most damn amazing woman on earth' and how he needs to do better if he's gonna be a true bakugou, because in this family, we love our only woman.

That night, Katsuki slept with his head tucked in his wife's neck, whispering sorry's for not being a good father enough for this to happen in the first place. His worries however were soothed with an array of kisses on any skin his wife could reach, all pressed with a "you're the best father our baby could have had".

p.s. thank you soooooo much for the ask! I had so much fun writing this. I hope you like it <33

[leahwllmsn]

the reason

alexia putellas x reader

word count: 6.1k

When you showed up to your first training session of the season, you weren’t expecting to see your ex-something standing in the middle of the locker room.

; some angst, happy ending though, just a bunch of miscommunication 

“Y/N! You’re here, perfect,” Jonas gave you a huge smile as he directed you towards the woman you hadn’t seen in months. “Meet our new signing!”

You swore you’d never seen Jonas smile that big during your time at Arsenal, which was understandable if he managed to sign Alexia Putellas to this damn club.

You looked at her outstretched hand, acting as if this was the first time you two met—acting as if she didn’t break your heart just a few months ago. 

At once, the memories came rushing in and you looked up to meet her eyes, trying to ignore the way your heart started to pick up its pace. For a second you were shocked at how familiar it was, to have her staring at you like you were interesting to her, but you quickly shook it off. You knew it was all a lie, a façade. Alexia was good at making people think they matter to her when she couldn't care less about anybody but herself. 

You ignored her and you ignored Jonas’ yelp of surprise when you didn’t kiss the ground Alexia walked on. You went straight to your cubby and did your usual routine.

Training gear checked.

Boots checked.

Hair tie checked.

Alexia standing next to you—

“What?” you hadn’t meant to sound harsh, or maybe you did. You didn’t really care.

Out of all the things you expected to come out of her mouth, an apology for breaking your heart, or a simple ‘how are you’ or whatever, you hadn't expected her to say, “I missed you.”

You were indifferent to her being here before (that was what you convinced yourself anyway), but now you were livid. 

“Seriously?” your voice apparently was louder than you intended because you could feel a couple of eyes on you.

“Y/N…” maybe it was hearing her say your name again after all this time. Maybe it was the way she said your name with a hint of longing when she had no right to do so after what she did to you. Maybe it was the way she was standing there within your reach after you thought that you were never going to see her again.

You think it was all of it combined that made the ache in your heart, which you’ve managed to seal tight all this time, to seep through the seams and inject itself back into your veins.

Taking a deep breath, you will yourself to stare into her eyes. “Go fuck yourself, Alexia.”

You heard everyone inhale a sharp breath all at once as you exited the room. You definitely were getting an earful from Jonas but you didn’t care.

Alexia could really go fuck herself for all you care.

—

It was Leah that Jonas assigned to talk to you.

You hated it because aside from the fact that she was your captain in the Lionesses, she also had known you since you were barely in diapers, seeing as your mothers were best friends. 

You were hiding in your usual spot, the old storage room that no one used anymore. 

“Want to talk about why you were so rude to one of the best footballers on this planet?”

You scoffed. Great. Even your best friend was kissing Alexia’s ass. “She’s overrated.”

Leah sat down on the floor next to you, grabbing the back of your shirt when you went to stand up. “You’re not going anywhere, mate.”

“You can't make me talk,” you scowled at her. “I just hate her. Don’t really care if I was rude to Jonas’ newest favourite.”

Leah laughed, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “Chill out will you! You’re acting so tense.”

“I’m not tense! It’s just been a shitty morning, with her being here and all.”

“I feel like there’s something I’m missing,” Leah looked at you questioningly. “You’re jealous of her or something?

You barked out a laugh at that. That was good. “Hell no. Why would I be jealous of her? Like I said, she’s overrated.”

“Then?”

“Then nothing,” you rolled your eyes. God, why was it so hard to be moody about your ex in peace?

“If it’s nothing then you wouldn't mind going back there and being nice to her, yeah?”

“No.” 

There was no way in hell you would be nice to Alexia. No. fucking. way.

“Y/N. Jonas is counting on me to talk some sense into you, he's scared Alexia is going to resign on the first day here if her teammate is rude to her.”

That sounded like a great idea, you thought. Just as you smiled at Leah, she was frowning at you.

“Y/N. Be nice. Please. For me?”

You always did have a soft spot for Leah.

“Fine.”

—

Everyone was already at the field when you returned with Leah.

You weren't sure who witnessed your little interaction with Alexia earlier so you kept to yourself for a bit, not wanting anyone to ask anymore questions.

You got through the training smoothly and it was over before you knew it. You kept on avoiding Alexia’s gazes, trying your best to pretend that she wasn't there at all. In your mind, Alexia was still in Barcelona, right where she should be.

Not in London Colney here with you. Definitely not.

“Hola.”

Damn it.

You were putting your stuff into your duffle bag aggressively, lifting your head just for a second to glare at her. 

Alexia seemed unperturbed at your cold gaze, sitting down on the cubby next to yours so she could look up at you and catch your eyes.

You were always a sucker for her stupid puppy dog eyes.

But you were stronger now. You were.

“Y/N,” she tried again, her voice a whisper. “Can we talk? ”

You replied with a simple “No.”

“We are going to be teammates, we should at least be civil to one another, no?”

“No,” you rolled your eyes, who did she think she was? “I’ll pretend you don't exist and you can do the same.”

Alexia scoffed at you. “Why are you being so difficult?”

That got your attention. “Me?” you raise your voice and Leah suddenly stepped in between you two, probably fearing that things might escalate.

“Hey,” Leah gave you a pointed look. “People are watching.”

You glanced back and people were watching, most had a curious look on their faces. No one knew you and Alexia knew each other, but everyone knew you and they knew you were anything but hostile. So this attitude might be slightly disconcerting for them.

You took a deep breath and willed yourself to calm down. You need time to process the events that happened today.

“I’m just gonna go,” you told Leah. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

Not sparing Alexia another glance, you grabbed your bag and took off.

Tomorrow. You’ll face her again tomorrow and maybe you can try to be civil with her. Only for the sake of your teammates.

—

“You know… if you keep on staring at me like that, one might think you’re in love with me.”

You thought you were being discreet with your gazes towards the brunette who was sitting a few seats apart from you, acting as if you were staring at the ocean instead.

But apparently that wasn’t the case and as soon as you heard those words come out of her mouth, you choked on your ice tea and patted your chest repeatedly to stop the coughing fit. 

The brunette beside you laughed and you halted your movements to stare again because wow, the pictures really didn’t do Alexia Putellas justice.

She turned towards you and held out a hand for you to shake. “I’m Alexia.”

You accepted her hand with a bashful smile. “I know.”

She raises her eyebrows at you.

You could feel the blush rising to your cheeks, trying to play it cool with a simple shrug of your shoulders. “Who doesn't know Alexia Putellas at this point? It would be weird if I didn’t.” you paused. “And I wasn’t staring at you, by the way.”

“Oh, you weren’t?” Alexia smirked. She slid into the empty seat between you and you could feel your heartbeat racing once you caught a whiff of Alexia’s perfume. A strong flowering scent. Huh. You've never thought about what Alexia Putellas would smell like, but it probably wasn’t this. It somehow made you even more attracted to her.

You nodded, playing with the straw of your drink. “I totally wasn’t.”

“Then what were you staring at?” 

“The… sea.”

Alexia laughed once more and you couldn’t help but laugh with her. Her laugh was infectious.

“Okay, sure,” Alexia took a sip of her drink. “Just so you know though, I wouldn’t mind if you were staring at me.”

You hummed, pretending to be in thought. “I’d rather not.”

“No?” Alexia raised her eyebrows. “Why not?”

You shrugged. “Then you’d think I’m into you, or something.”

“Well aren’t you?”

You clicked your tongue. Her ego was through the roof. You get it though, if you looked like that, you’d think everyone was into you too. “No.”

“Your stare suggests otherwise.” Alexia smiled smugly.

You stepped down from your stool and put your hand out. “Why don’t you take a stroll around the beach with me?”

When Alexia was still staring at your outstretched hand, you motioned for her to take it. Alexia complied and let you drag her away to the shore. 

“It was getting kinda boring, wasn't it? Just sitting by yourself at the bar,” you explained, swaying your hands back and forth as you walked along the coast. “I don't know if you know me, but I play football professionally too. For Arsenal and England. I’m here on holiday with my family but they can get kind of crazy sometimes so I want to have some alone time for a bit.”

“I know the feeling. I'm here with my sister but she drives me crazy most of the time.” you laughed along with her. 

“So you’re free then,” you halted your steps. “Spend the day with me?”

Alexia gave you a huge smile and you wanted the waves to swallow you whole, because how can someone be so gorgeous?

“I thought the answer was obvious the moment I let you drag me away from my unfinished cocktail.”

“Sorry,” you laughed. “I’ll buy you a new one.”

“That’s okay,” Alexia leaned forward and whispered in your ear. “As long as you admit that you’re attracted to me at the end of the day.”

You gulped, the close proximity was making your head spin. “Never,” you stuck your tongue out at her.

“We’ll see.” Alexia leaned back and grinned. “For now, can we go see some dolphins?”

You had already seen the dolphins the previous day. You hated it because the dolphins thought it was a good idea to splash water all over your brand new Dior bag and you swore you would never come back. 

But Alexia was looking at you with wide, excited eyes and a smile so bright that you didn’t have the heart to say no to her. So you went to see the dolphins and you did everything Alexia wanted.

The entire day, Alexia didn’t let go of your hand and you swore you had never been happier.

—

You and Alexia ended up talking to each other everyday ever since the Ibiza trip. She didn't exactly tell you that she felt the same way you did, but you figured that her constant flirting was supposed to clue you in. 

It went on for months and before you knew it, you were hopelessly in love with Alexia. 

Alexia was kind, thoughtful, she was so passionate about the sport that you both loved so dearly and you were just a goner. 

Who wouldn’t be, honestly?

It was certainly a bonus point that she was super attractive too. 

In the morning when Alexia would call you on facetime, and you were greeted with her face still full of sleep, blanket engulfing her as she recounts to you her plans for the day, you couldn't do anything but stare helplessly at how good she looked and how extra raspy her voice was. 

You and Alexia never put a label on things but you figured you were sort of… dating? Or it was a… situationship? Whatever it was, you knew it was beyond the level of friendship.

You loved your friends and you called them on the daily, but you couldn't imagine doing it to this extent. Alexia would call you in the mornings and at night. You’d call her when you got off training, you’d call her when you heard a funny joke Kyra said and you wanted to tell Alexia about it. She would call you when she got anxious because she was starting her match and her doubts of still being not good enough post ACL still haunted her.

You loved Leah, your bestest friend in the whole world, but you couldn't imagine telling her the things you told Alexia in the early hours of the morning. There were some things that you didn’t think you'd share with anyone, but with Alexia, it was… simple. It was easy. It felt right.

But maybe it was all in your head.

It went on for so long that you didn’t even think labeling it was important anymore. You were Alexia’s and she was yours.

She told you she loved you, for fuck’s sake.

She told you she loved you and one day when you were at camp, Lucy mentioned how Alexia was seeing someone.

Someone who you thought was you, but how could that be if Lucy was talking about having a double date at the best paella place in Barcelona with Alexia and her girlfriend when you were all the way in London. 

Apparently Alexia’s girlfriend was someone named Olga and they'd been dating for a few months and your blood pressure went through the roof.

A few months.

You thought you were dating Alexia for a few months (one year actually, but you didn’t give a fuck anymore).

You ignored Alexia’s call that night because, what the fuck? She had a girlfriend in Spain and you were what? Her side piece? That thought made you sick.

You didn't reply to Alexia’s messages anymore. Too hurt, too embarrassed at everything.

don’t text me again, Alexia 

I mean it

You declined all her calls and never bothered replying to her texts that were pleading to tell her what was wrong.

Eventually when weeks passed by and you still gave no response, she stopped trying.

You didn't know if you were relieved or disappointed.

—

It seemed like the universe had something against you because as soon as you got out of your car, Alexia was also getting out of her car across from you.

If you weren't so pissed off at the reminder that she was actually a part of Arsenal now, you would laugh at how comical this sight was—you scowling at her and Alexia scowling back at you.

“Bon día,” Alexia had the decency to greet you.

“Morning,” you grumpily greeted back.

You walked side by side into the building. you didn't know why, you could have walked faster, or slower, or turned in the other direction so you wouldn't have to walk by her side, but you did it anyway.

Despite only having hung out with her in person a few times during your time together/not together, you kinda missed her.

“Is this you finally being civil with me?” 

“I still hate you.”

“Okay ouch,” Alexia placed a hand over her heart, pouting at you. You continued to scowl at her, trying to hide how your heart had betrayed you and skipped a beat.

Before you had the chance to respond, you two arrived at the locker rooms. Only Leah was there, who immediately came over and sling an arm around your shoulder and grinned cheekily at you. “Best mates already, are we?”

You flicked Leah’s forehead, causing her to yelp and do the same to you. “Leave me alone, Leah,” you grumbled.

“Someone’s moody this morning,” Leah whispered to Alexia, to which the latter hummed in agreement.

“Have I mentioned how much I hate you both?”

Leah chuckled, whispering something to Alexia that you didn't quite catch. Nor did you care enough to find out. 

How funny was your life right now? Your best friend and your… something were friends. Ugh. Your ex-something, now your teammate. Ugh.

You were too caught up in unpacking your things that you didn't notice Leah calling your name.

“Y/N!” 

You turned around and raised an eyebrow at her. “What?”

“I’ve been calling you twice! Alexia distracting you that much?” Leah said teasingly.

You looked towards Alexia who was changing her clothes, leaving her in a Nike sports bra and her abs on full display. Fuck. Bad idea.

“Oh fuck off,” you quickly turned back around, feeling the heat rushed to your cheeks.

“Stop being so moody,” Leah shook her head in amusement. “You’re terrible when you’re moody.”

“Not moody.”

Leah chuckled like she couldnt believe you but she let it go. “We’re planning a welcome party for Alexia this weekend at my place. You’ll be there, yeah?”

Your reply was immediate. “No.”

“Oh I’m hurt,” speak of the devil. Alexia joined in on your conversation with Leah, now all dressed in her Arsenal training kit. Your eyes raked up and down her body. You didn’t have time to admire her in her Arsenal kit yesterday. (You wouldn't admit that it looked good on her.) “You won’t attend your own teammate’s welcoming party? Dios mío. So much for being a team.”

“Not if the teammate is you,” you retorted.

Alexia pouted at you. Leah looked like she was having the time of her life watching your interaction. “Do not be like that, darling,” Alexia teased. You badly wanted to smack her in the face. “You did say you have always wanted us to play together. Now we are on the same team and you are acting like you hate me?” 

At that your eyes bulged out of its sockets. Leah looked mostly confused. “I never said that!”

Alexia only smirked at you as she passed by, blowing you a kiss before she went off to the pitch. 

“She’s so bloody annoying,” you grumbled after her. “I never said anything like that!”

—

The first time you argued with Alexia on the pitch, it was entirely your fault. You could admit this. 

Alexia was dribbling the ball—looking so good doing it, like everything was so effortless for her, that you sort of got annoyed and went in to tackle her. It could’ve ended badly if it weren’t for Alexia’s quick reflexes.

“Oh come on! That’s a yellow!” Alexia looked genuinely pissed off, she quickly stood up, throwing her hands in the air. 

“Oops,” you shrugged, mockingly patting her cheeks. “Good reflexes though.”

All your teammates looked away as Jonas scolded you in front of everyone—not that you care, you weren’t hearing a word he said. You were too busy sending a smirk Alexia’s way. You didn’t look guilty in the slightest and that was probably what made Alexia’s blood boil.

She took her water bottle and she didn’t just spray water on you, she turned the cap and poured the whole thing on top of your head.

“Oops,” Alexia mocked your earlier words. 

Oh you were livid. “What the bloody hell is wrong with you?!” 

Alexia leaned in and whispered in your ear, “You should work on your reflexes, babe,” before walking away. She didn’t get to walk very far before you ran after her and jumped on her back, tackling her to the ground.

You didn’t know what you wanted to do but you were so annoyed at Alexia—annoyed that she was able to get under your skin, annoyed that she was so attractive and you were still so attracted to her even though she broke your heart! It was ridiculous.

You were tackling each other on the field, and you could hear Alexia start to laugh and you realized it was because you were tickling her and Alexia was ticklish.

“Y/N! Stop! What the hell!” You sure as hell weren’t stopping now.

(It was definitely not because of how addictive the sound of Alexia’s laughter was.)

“Say sorry!” You shouted back, you were straddling her at this point, your hands still poking at her sides.

“No!”

“Alexia! Say sorry!”

“No! Get off!”

“I’m not getting off until you say sorry!”

All your teammates were watching the scene with bewilderment on their faces. Earlier, when you tackled Alexia, everyone was holding their breath, anticipating the bomb that was due to explode anytime (the bomb here being the tension created by you and Alexia being in each other’s vicinity). 

Now, everyone was just amused. You two were still taking turns straddling each other, trying to outpower the other, a scowl ever present on your face (although if one were to look closely, you did let a smile slip). Everyone thought you hated each other. Jonas was making himself go crazy trying to find the history between you, needing to find a solution to make you like each other as one of you leaving was not an option.

Now, everyone could see that you two were fine. Some unresolved tension, for sure. Full on hatred? Not so much.

—

The days passed by pretty quickly and the next thing you knew you were standing in front of Leah’s door, about to enter Alexia’s welcoming party, the one you were adamant to not show up to.

Leah then threatened to take away your PlayStation for a month to which you finally caved in with the biggest sigh and “Remember Lee, it’s not about me wanting to be friends with Alexia, okay? I literally cannot live if you revoke my PlayStation privileges!”

You entered Leah’s place with an even more sour mood than you were at training this week.

Training was fine, as always. Having Alexia there to train with you in London Colney was not fine.

(Although you couldn’t help but notice how well you and Alexia played with each other, managing to have some sort of telepathy that let you two find one another on the pitch. 

Just your damn luck.)

You made your rounds and spoke with everyone. You were less tense now, somehow having adjusted to Alexia being around.

You could see the relief in Leah and Kim’s face when they saw you weren’t trying to start fights with the new signing anymore.

So much so that they decided it was you and Alexia that had to be the one to get more beers in Leah’s pantry. You took the instructions with a scowl, Alexia trailing behind you like a lost puppy.

You entered Leah’s pantry (if one could even call it that, it was spacious, Leah had more space than one living alone would need), and you were about to tell Alexia to hold the door open and not let it shut because the handle was broken and Leah still haven’t gotten it fixed when Alexia shut the door closed.

“Fuck.”

“What?”

“Guess we’re stuck here.”

—

After both of you had tried your luck by pulling the door handle and nothing seemed to work, you two settled on the floor, sitting on opposite ends of the room.

You were scowling at the blonde, who was looking everywhere but you, a guilty expression on her face.

“This is all your fault,” you were sulking. You both stupidly didn’t bring your phones and you couldn’t call anyone for help. “This is all your fault,” you repeated.

“I told you, I’m sorry,” Alexia mumbled, bringing her knees to her chest. You hated that she looked like a kicked puppy.

You sighed. Maybe you were being too harsh on her. “I’m surprised there hasn't been an uproar online with you leaving Barcelona,” you changed the subject.

Alexia raised an eyebrow at you, not expecting you to start another conversation apart from telling her that being stuck here was Alexia’s fault. “It hasn't been announced yet,” she clarified.

“Well, goodluck,” you felt bad for her. Just a bit. “They’re going to rip you apart for that. Unloyal, how you downgraded, and all that.”

Alexia let out a big sigh. “I know. I have prepared myself for it. The goodbye video is a good one though, it was so emotional, I even cried. I just hope people understand.”

You looked at her, you still couldn’t understand her. “I thought you loved Barça? You are quite literally a carbon copy of Leah with Arsenal.”

“I did. I do. I love the club with all my heart, you know that.”

When you didn't reply Alexia continued.

“There were a lot of factors, to put it simply. Financials, is one. I didn’t like that in order for me to receive more, someone has to get less. We won the Quadruple, we won a lot of fucking things for the club, there should be enough money going around. Anyway, I won’t go into detail because it is a lot more complicated than that. Then there was going to be changes, with Jona leaving and all. I didn’t like where it was headed.”

Alexia took a deep breath, looking up at the ceiling. “I didn’t want to leave everyone behind, but I felt that it was for the best. They still have Marta and Patri so I’m leaving them in good hands.”

“Sorry to hear that,” you murmured, now feeling guilty for your behaviour towards her ever since she got here.

Alexia turned to look at you and gone were the wistful look in her eyes. She looked serene—if that was even possible after leaving the club of your life.

“Then you were also a factor, definitely,” Alexia said so softly that you might have missed it. “I didn't know why you were suddenly ignoring me, I feel like I definitely did something wrong because we were fine one day and not the next. I want to apologize for whatever it was. I really do miss you.”

You could only look at her as you processed her words. Your loud laugh broke the silence “Me? You moved to shitty Arsenal because of me? Please be serious.”

Alexia laughed at that. “Don’t call your club shitty. I think it’s quite a good club. With an interesting league.”

“If you're comparing it to Barcelona—“

“I like it here so far,” Alexia interjected. “You should be proud of your club.”

“Of course I am—”

“And you’re here so it’s definitely a bonus point.”

“No, no, wait, just pause,” you ran your hand through your hair as you took a deep breath. What the fuck was going on. You stood up and started pacing the floor, Alexia looking at you expectantly. “You,” you pointed at her. “Moved to Arsenal, to bloody London,” you waved your hand around, “because of me?” you pointed at yourself in disbelief.

“One of the reasons, yes.”

“No!”

Alexia looked taken aback at your outburst, her face showing that she was amused at you. “What do you mean no?”

“No as in you're lying.”

“I’m not lying,” she rolled her eyes at you. 

“Yes, you are.”

Alexia mumbled some Catalan you didn't understand and stood up, inching closer to you. When she was about to take your hand, you immediately pulled away, “Stop,” you warned her, “you have a girlfriend.”

“What?” Now it was you who was taken aback by her outburst.

“I know all about your Spanish girlfriend,” you crossed your arms over your chest. “So cut it out.”

“I don’t have a Spanish girlfriend?” Alexia was confused and you were too, but you know she has a hot, Spanish girlfriend somewhere in Barcelona and it was igniting the rage in the pit of your stomach.

“Lucy told me that you went on a double date with her and Ona. While we were together,” you scoffed. “So not only do you have a girlfriend but you cheated.”

“What!” Alexia looked at you like you were crazy. “Cheated? Sí, I was in love with you, but we were never together?!”

Your jaw went slack at that, how could she?

“Never together- all the daily calls and texts and the I love you? Jesus, Alexia. What was all that?”

Realization seemed to dawn on her face at the same time as yours. There was a chance that… Alexia didn’t think you were together when you thought otherwise…?

“I didn’t—” Alexia sighed, shaking her head. “I thought we were friends!”

You groaned, palming your face. Oh my god. This must singlehandedly be the most humiliating point in your life. You were heartbroken over someone who didn't think you were together? “What kind of friends—”

“Okay, okay,” Alexia stepped closer to you, her hands reaching out in an attempt to touch yours. “Lo siento. I really am.” You let her touch you, Alexia immediately holding your hands and running soothing circles with her thumb.

“I didn't know you felt that way towards me, honestly,” Alexia continued. “I was trying to forget you, so I went out with someone for a bit but it was nothing serious. I—wait, was that why you stopped talking to me?”

Still feeling the embarrassment, you pulled your hands from her grip and began walking towards the door. Before you remembered that you were locked in. Great.

Alexia caught up to you, essentially blocking your path. Not that you could go anywhere anyway. 

“Y/N,” Alexia gave a small laugh and you frowned at her. What was so funny about this? “You thought we were together?”

Your frown deepend even further, hearing her say it out loud was so, so embarrassing. “Yeah, whatever, go ahead and laugh at me.”

Alexia turned serious at your tone. “I am not laughing at you. I promise,” she took your hands in hers. “I think it is… cute. We both suck at communication. I’m sorry.” Alexia brought your hands up to her lips, pressing the softest kiss to your knuckles. 

You wanted to die, in a good way. But you were still so embarrassed about this whole thing, so you remained quiet.

“I was in love with you,” Alexia clarified. “Still am. But I did not know that you feel the same—“

You groaned. “I don’t call my friends 24/7 or end everything with an ‘I love you’. Of course I was in love with you!”

“I am oblivious, I know!” Alexia laughed. “Sorry! But you never clarified things.”

“I thought it was obvious,” you pushed her shoulder halfheartedly. “If we were to date and you do those things with someone else, I would be concerned.”

“Never,” Alexia placed her hands around your waist, having you essentially pressed against her. “Sorry again about everything.”

“You should be,” you whispered, the close proximity making your heart beat wildly against your chest. “You broke my heart without knowing it.”

“Won’t ever do it again, te prometo,” Alexia rested her forehead against yours. Alexia filled all your senses and you were overcome with a wave of contentment. “Just so we are clear… you like me in a romantic sense and you want to date me, romantically, yes?”

You could only roll your eyes, grabbing her by the neck to pull her in for a kiss.

Suddenly the door flew open, causing you two to break apart. It was Leah, a bewildered look on her face with a screwdriver in hand. You didn’t even realize she was trying to open the door.

“I thought you two hated each other?!”

You opened your mouth to reply but you didn't get the chance to, not when Alexia grabbed your jaw to turn you towards her and placed her lips back on yours.

“Seriously?!”

You heard Leah muttering curse words as she slammed the door shut and Alexia giggling against your lips at the same time. You were the most content you had ever been.

—

bonus:

When you and Alexia weren’t throwing snide remarks at one another, people started to look at you weirdly, apart from Leah, obviously, who was sporting the biggest scowl on her face.

You didn't get a chance to talk to her after she caught you, your best friend prying the door open once more then left without a word, trying to act like a good host and preparing unnecessary foods and drinks for everyone. Basically, she was ignoring you.

You've known Leah all your life and you knew she was pissed that she was kept in the dark about your… developments with Alexia. To be fair, the developments did happen a few minutes before Leah got the door to open, so you didn't really have time to tell her.

Plus, you hadn't told her about how you and Alexia were sort of together but not really for a year and you knew Leah would be even more pissed that you decided to omit this from her. You loved Leah for it though. You knew she meant well. She was very protective over you.

You knew better than to approach Leah when she was like this, opting to leave her to brood in peace for a few days.

You would tell her about Alexia eventually, never really one to keep secrets from her. 

At the thought of Alexia, you instantly had a smile on your face.

You two were back to the way it was before—regular calls and texts, only this time you could meet each other for coffee in between the time you weren’t calling or texting each other.

This time, you two were on the same page. You were in love with each other. No one else. And you were dating each other—no one else.

Training became… eventful. 

Not only were you and Alexia civil, you two were making jokes with each other. At one point, you even managed to hug her discreetly, when no one was around—or so you thought anyway.

“Whoa.”

You instantly pulled back at the voice, it turned out to be Mariona, Alexia’s Spain teammate.

“Since when is La Reina a hugger?”

“Shut up, Mario,” Alexia glared at her, although you could see the small smile on her lips. “We are dating. Of course we hug. Just be thankful we were not in the middle of making out or doing something worse.”

What?

You could only stare at Alexia in shock, mouth hanging open. Mariona was the same, she was catatonic.

Whatever you were expecting to come out of Alexia’s mouth, it wasn't that.

“I think you broke poor Mario,” a voice chimed in from the doorway. “I was the one who walked in on their making out session,” Leah continued, stepping into the room. “That was pretty traumatizing.”

Leah was looking at you with that glint in her eyes, one that told you all was well. “You still mad at me Williamson?”

Leah scoffed. “Oh please. Why would I be mad at you?”

“Because I didn’t tell you Ale and I were a thing, and because you had to walk in on me being all over her- in my defense, have you seen her? How could you not want to jump her bones—”

“Okay, nope!” Leah closed her eyes with a grimace, trying to burn the memory away. “Please, please keep it in your pants.”

You shook your head fondly at her, moving forward to engulf her in a hug. “Dinner at my place tonight?”

Leah pulled back and placed the sloppiest kiss on your cheek. “Sure, darling. I know you’ve missed me!”

“Lee! What the fuck!” Leah was giggling and you were shooting daggers at her. Alexia was looking at the both of you with amusement on her face. 

Mariona suddenly burst into laughter, taking everyone by surprise. “This is gold,” Mariona said in between her laughs. “So I am not the only one who moved countries for a girl?”

Alexia looked genuinely offended at the accusation. “I did not move here because of a girl!”

You wrapped your arms around her waist, “Oh you so did, babe. That’s okay, no one is holding it against you. I am pretty hot.”

Alexia was about to counter your statement when Mariona chimed in, an ear-splitting grin on her face, “I am going to go tell everyone about this.”

“What- no! Mario!” Alexia went to chase after the brunette who had made her exit. You could hear their voices echoing throughout the hall. “I moved here because of a lot of reasons, you know this!”

“So,” Leah kicked your shoe to get your attention. “Alexia, huh? Didn't you say she was overrated?”

“Shut up.”