#people will complain about hearing the same song over again

[madbard]

This song. Has been on repeat. For the past 48 hours. I can’t even count how many times I’ve played it; it’s destroying me.

[delicatepointofview]

gonna have to deal with people missing the point of louis singing 1d songs in festivals... don't get me started on the other covers

[4unnyr0se]

❥ OHMAMI | hajime iwaizumi

warnings: timeskip! iwaizumi, fem! reader, car sex, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, hickeys, degradation, manhandling, slight fingering, finger-sucking, riding, oikawa is mentioned a lot tbh, protective and possessive iwa

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 4.9k

a/n: okay i started this in early june and now im finishing it so im sorry if it doesnt make sense aaaa

❥ song: OHMAMI - chase atlantic

Iwaizumi was never the one people thought of when asked who their favorite member of the Aoba Johsai team was. He grew to accept it over time, albeit with spite and anger. Everyone was always wrapped up in what Oikawa was doing, wondering who would be his next girlfriend of the week. It was gross how Oikawa hogged all the girls; how could he be so selfish? Fucking jackass. 

Naturally, it was a relief when he graduated. Sure, Aoba Johsai never went to nationals (and yes, it very much stung), but the memories were important, right? Hitting perfect spike after spike, smacking Oikawa around, hearing that glorious school cheer, Iwaizumi had to admit he would miss it. Not the part where Oikawa kept all the girls to himself. 

Graduation came and went, and so did university. It was a breeze. Sports medicine was not a challenging major; he was just really good at the subject. Another graduation came, and Iwaizumi could only think about you and that pretty, perfect face. You were his closest friend in high school, and sadly, you drifted apart during university. You were studying Japanese literature or something, he didn’t remember. It’s not his fault; he was just too busy getting girls for the first time in a while. Totally not his fault…right?

Iwaizumi wasn’t doing himself any fucking favors, he thought about you too much for his own good. Whether Aoba Johsai lost or how insufferable Oikawa was, you were always there for him. You let him lean against your shoulder and complain about his day, his disheveled and messy uniform giving him an even more thuggish appearance. The way your soft, almost angelic hands massaged his scalp, assuring him that he would be okay.  Oh, how he longed for your fingers in his spiky hair again. He had forgotten your scent, your sweet floral scent. Was it roses or lavender? Maybe lilac? Although all the girls in high school wore the same body sprays, yours was different. Was it because you were never scared of him to begin with? Fuck, he missed you.

He sat on the bench in the empty locker room of the gym he worked at, a hot towel draped around broad shoulders as he began to lose himself in his fond high school memories. Images danced around in his mind of your sweet face smiling at him for the first time, the words “Don’t worry, I’ll help you study for the English test!” leaving your soft lips. At least, Iwaizumi thought they were soft. No, he knew they were soft. God, you were so kind to him. You even ignored Oikawa’s advances towards you, which made him blush and gain so much respect for you in an instant. “Man, I’d really like to punch that guy in his dumb face.” you snickered, covering your bright smile. Iwaizumi swore he could marry you right then and there.

From that moment on, he was your closest friend. You went to all his practices and games, cheering for him when no one else would. “Nice kill, Iwa!” you would shout from the bleachers, proudly wearing a spare version of his jersey. His jersey. If Iwaizumi had no supporters, you were dead. The two of you were inseparable until university rolled around, and Iwaziumi became stupidly popular with the ladies. And sure, college girls were pretty and incredibly loose, but they weren’t you. No one was you, and he missed you every day.

Iwaizumi grunted as he stood up, tossing the towel into a basket. He stepped out of the locker room with his hands in his pockets, whistling a song from his cardio playlist. It was around ten at night, and his gym was one of the few open so late, so there wasn’t anyone there except the front receptionist girl who flirted with every guy who walked in. Truly, he couldn’t ask for better entertainment. 

“Yo,” Iwaizumi leaned across the desk, stealing an electrolyte drink from the employee minifridge. There’s no one here; you should just go home. It’s getting late.” The cool drink touched his lips, the cherry flavoring subtle. “If the boss gives you any crap, you can blame me. I don’t mind.”

The receptionist eagerly stood up and practically ran out the door, throwing her time card at him. “Clock me out!” she shouted halfway out the automatic door. Iwaizumi sighed and shoved the time card in his sweats. She really was a ditz, but at least she got people to sign up for VIP memberships. 

He clocked her out and went to his favorite spot in the gym where he usually deadlifts. Unfortunately, there was no one to spot him. Iwaizumi was a jock, but he certainly wasn’t dumb. There was no way he was dying because he got crushed by a fucking barbell. There is no chance in hell. 

His rough and calloused hands decided just to lift weights instead. That was simpler, more safe. He flipped on his headphones and selected a tune from his more…sensual playlist. It's a sensual indie R&B song that could make anyone feel like a sex god. Why was that song on his playlist? He couldn’t tell you. Once again, Iwaizumi became lost in his thoughts as he lifted the weights up and down with such ease. He worked out for health benefits, but just something about staring at his physique in the mirror made it all worth it. Damn, did he look fine as hell. He was ashamed of how long it took him to realize that he was stupidly attractive, and it took a lot of skill not to develop a massive ego around his looks. 

The automatic doors slid open, the dinging sound drowned out by his noise-canceling headphones. His green eyes locked on the floor mat below him, concentrating on passing the time by any means necessary. He paused briefly when he saw two tiny white sneakers enter his field of vision, standing considerably close to his muscular form. “Sorry about that,” he mumbled, placing the weights on the ground. “Music’s loud, y’know?” His eyes trailed upwards until they finally met your gaze, his pupils shrinking in shock. His hands gripped his headphones, softly filling the room with sensual music. “Holy shit.” Iwaizumi’s mouth was agape. He looked like a fool. “Uh, hi.”

“Hi, Iwa.” you smiled brightly, taking his headphones from his rough hands and placing them around his thick neck. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Three years, I think.” Fuck, he forgot how much smaller your hands were to his own. It’s so cute.

“Three years since university, yeah,” Iwaizumi mumbled, wiping the glistening sweat away from his forehead. “I can’t believe it’s been that long. You don’t look any different. Not that it’s a bad thing!” he stumbled on his words, silently cringing at his immature actions. He never got this flustered. He hasn’t been in a while. Less than a minute talking to you, and he was a stammering mess. This wasn’t like him at all. His tough persona might as well be tossed out the window. 

You offered him another sweet smile and rubbed his shoulder, the sweat not bothering you in the slightest. “Change is a good thing, y’know,” your words were gentle and comforting, oozing with wisdom beyond your years. Another thing Iwaizumi thought was perfect about you was that you always knew the right thing to say. “You’ve changed too. You’re way more buff than the last time we saw each other!”

“Damn right,” he smirked, subtly flexing his biceps. Were you looking? He hoped so. “I’m a personal trainer, so I gotta stay in shape. Plus, I train Oikawa, so whenever I’m pissed off, I just do a couple sets.”

“You still hang out with Oikawa? I thought you hated him.” you raised an eyebrow, placing a hand on your hips quizically. 

“I’m getting paid to tell him what workouts he should do. Can’t complain about that money,” Iwaizumi rubbed the back of his head, fluffing out his spiky hair. “Besides, I’m allowed to kick his ass whenever I want. That asshole deserves it. He somehow got even more cocky after he got back from Argentina.”

You rolled your eyes and found a nearby workout bench, crossing your legs over each other. “I didn’t think Loserkawa could become even more full of himself. You’d think being in a foreign country would humble him slightly.”

“Right?” a deep chuckle escaped his chapped lips as Iwaizumi sat beside you, minding the distance. He bit down on his lower lip slightly, just for a moment. Would you mind if he sat closer to you, like in high school? “He even started speaking Spanish, but he’s not allowed to do that around me.”

“Because you’ll throw a dumbbell at him?”

“Because I’ll throw a dumbbell at him.”

You giggled and scooted closer to Iwaizumi, the scent of sweat mixed with his cologne filling your nostrils. He smelled more mature than in high school, but that’s a given. “I see you’re still the same ol’ spikey-haired guy.” you ruffled his hair, knowing that you were the only one who could do that without getting a beatdown. 

Iwaizumi blushed, averting his eyes from your gaze. Fuck, he really missed your touch. “So, uh, what brings you to the gym? Were you looking for a membership or something?” 

You shook your head, casually wrapping your arm around his shoulder. Were you trying to kill him? “Nah. If I’m being honest, I saw you in one of the windows while I was out for an evening walk. It’s been a while, so I wanted to say hi.” You momentarily looked down at your shoes, a faint blush gracing your cheeks. “Besides, I missed you.”

“You walked here by yourself? At night? Are you crazy?” Iwaizumi shouted, grasping your shirt to pull you closer. “It’s not safe at night. You didn’t have anyone to protect you! Do you know how stupid that sounds?” his nostrils flared, a mixture of anxiety and rage overcoming him. “What if something happened?”

You gasped, your brow furrowing. “Well, excuse me! I didn’t know I needed permission from someone I haven’t spoken to in three years to take a fucking walk!” you ripped his hand away from your shirt. 

Iwaizumi groaned, hanging his head. “You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just…” he took a deep breath. “It’s not safe for someone like you at night, and I’d never be able to forgive myself if something happened to you because you wanted to see me.” 

You rolled your eyes and pulled his chin up, staring into his oceans of green. “Just because you’re worried about someone doesn’t give you an excuse to be an asshole about it,” you smiled in assurance. “Next time, I’ll bring something to defend myself. Okay?”

Iwaizumi smirked. “You’re the only person allowed to call me an asshole, y’know that? If you were anybody else, I’d beat your skull in.

“Then I’m lucky that I happen to still be Hajime Iwaizumi’s favorite person after all these years,” you bit down on your lower lip. “Unless…you have a girlfriend. Then she’s probably your favorite person.”

“No girlfriend, I don’t have the time,” he shook his head, moving himself closer. “I had a girlfriend before, but then-”

“Oikawa took her from you?” you cut him off.

“Fucking Oikawa took her from me. He dated her for two weeks, then dumped her for someone he met at a bar. Can you believe that?” he clenched his fist.

“Unfortunately, I can,” you gave an exasperated sigh. “I guess Oikawa will always be Oikawa.”

“God help us,” Iwaizumi chuckled. “Hey, I gotta lock up the gym. Can you wait outside, and then I can drive you home?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? I don’t wanna be a bother.”

“Why would you be a bother? I’m just keepin' you safe, dummy.” Iwaizumi assured you, getting up and brushing off his pants. “Wait here. I’ll come to get you. I don’t want you standing outside. There’s a lot creeps around here who want nothing more than to get close to a pretty girl like you.” he turned around, not realizing that he had just complimented you. You were left with a brighter blush on your face, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Did Iwaizumi think you were pretty after all this time?

Eventually, he finished what he needed to do to close up the gym: he wiped down all the machines and ensured everything was organized for the morning shift. He grabbed you by the wrist and practically dragged you out of the gym, having an unusually tight grip.

“Dude, what are you doing? I know how to walk,” you tugged your wrist away from his hand, rubbing it. “You’re acting weird. Did something happen when you were cleaning up? “I just don’t want you to stray too far, that’s all. Keep close to me, or else I might end up killing somebody.” he shoved his hands in the pockets of his sweats, making his way to the car. He was weirdly protective over you, but it only bothered you slightly. 

Having your big, strong best friend wanting nothing more than to keep you safe in a parking lot was…well, it was sexy. Iwaizumi was sexy, and he knew it. You wondered if he knew that you thought so, too. How, when you were in high school, you would daydream about him pinning you against the wall and kissing you until you couldn’t breathe. How your mind would wander in college, staring at him from across the dining hall, watching as he unconsciously flexed his biceps in such a way that made you swoon every single time.

With his hand wrapped protectively over your shoulder, he clicked the keyfob and unlocked his car. It was a larger vehicle, boasting proud rims on the tires. “You can get in the passenger seat. I have snacks in the glove compartment if you’re hungry.”

“Since when do you have snacks in the car?” you sat in the passenger seat, buckling up. “That doesn’t seem very healthy, Mr. Personal Trainer.” you giggled, making air quotes. 

He playfully rolled his eyes, getting into the driver's seat. “I have to drive long distances for work sometimes. So, to keep me sane, I keep little snacks in my glove compartment. Granola and crap like that. Protein bars.” 

“Oh, so snacks that aren’t actually snacks?” you winked. 

“Shut up,” he clicked his seatbelt in, revving the car. “Do you wanna choose what we listen to or not? Also, type your address into the GPS while at it.”

“Or I could look through your messages.”

Iwaizumi shot you a glare. “Don’t even joke about that.”

You giggled, typed in your address, and then opened Spotify. “You have a lot of playlists. Why?”

He shrugged his shoulders, flexing the muscles. Fuck, he was so fucking sexy. “I dunno, I guess I just have one for every occasion. When you’re working with Oikawa, music typically helps,” he smirked, raising an eyebrow. “You can pick from any song on any playlist.”

“Then I choose this one,” you selected OHMAMI, handing him back his phone. “It’s from your playlist that has a heart emoji as the title. What’s that for?”

Iwaizumi felt his face become overrun with a blazing blush. His hands gripped the steering wheel as he pulled out of his parking spot, turning the car towards the exit. “Oh, uh, it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“But I wanna know!” you whined, crossing your arms over your chest. “C’mon, we just caught up a second ago, but you never kept any secrets from me.”

He sighed and bit down on his bottom lip. “Fuck, okay. Fine,” he took a deep breath. “It’s…this song is from my sex playlist. Specifically from college.”

Your pupils blew up, your hand immediately flying to your mouth to stifle a chuckle. “You have a sex playlist? And this is a song on it?”

“That’s what I just fucking said, didn’t I?” his face was red and anger and embarrassment. “See, this is why I didn’t want to tell you!”

“Iwa,” you tapped his thigh. “Sorry for laughing. It’s just that sex playlists are usually romantic and, no offense, but you never seemed like a romantic kind of guy.” 

He furrowed his brow. “I can be romantic, “ he made a sharp left turn. “I just haven’t had a reason to in a while, that’s all.”

“Aw, I’m sorry, man,” you pouted. “I’m sure someone will come along that can make you want to use this playlist again.” you smiled at him, flashing your teeth.

“Yeah, hopefully,” Iwaizumi sighed, stealing a glance at you. You were perfect, absolutely perfect. He was mentally kicking himself for not making a move. But then again, there was a sexy song playing, so the mood was set. Maybe you wouldn’t mind if his hand squeezed your thigh, dancing lower and lower. Maybe you wouldn’t mind at all. 

He continued to drive, the music from the stereo being the only thing to prevent the car from being silent. His mind wandered places: obscene, filthy places. He wondered what noises you would make if he ate your pussy out in the passenger seat. Would you taste as sweet as he imagined? Iwaizumi just knew your pussy was tight, how it would flutter around his cock as he bounced you up and down on it in the backseat, your hand flat against the roof of his car with the music blaring. He was so deep in thought that he neglected to realize the tent growing in his sweats. But you noticed.

Your eyes darted back and forth to his hard-on, squeezing your legs together at the sight. You suspected he was hiding a monster down there, and now you were sure of it. Surprisingly, Iwaizumi never got hard around you before today, at least not to your knowledge. It was like it was calling you to, desperate for your hands to slide up and down.

“Uh, Iwa?” you groaned, crossing your legs over each other. 

“Hm?” he didn’t take his eyes off the road.

“You have like…a huge boner right now.” you blushed furiously, cringing to yourself. Could you have chosen a more awkward set of words?

Iwaizumi choked on his breath, swerving the car slightly. He glanced down at his sweats, and lo and behold, he was hard. “O-Oh, fuck. Shit, that wasn’t supposed to happen.” he groaned, clenching onto the steering wheel once more.

You squirmed in your seat. “Hey man, don’t worry about it. You can’t control when you get hard, right? S’not a problem.”

He thought for a moment, mumbling under his breath. He canceled the navigation and pulled the car into a parking lot by an abandoned gas station frequented by local teenagers. Luckily, there was no one there right now. “I can’t,” he breathed in, refusing to meet your gaze. “I can’t control it when I’m around you,” he parked the car. “You drive me so fucking crazy.”

You squeezed onto the leather seats, your face still blazing red. “You’re telling me that I made your dick hard?” 

“Yeah, that’s what I just fucking said.” he groaned, unclicking his seatbelt. His eyes finally met yours, full of want. “You made me hard, princess.”

Princess. The nickname rang in your ears. Fuck, it was like hot honey rolling off his chapped lips. “Iwa…” you breathed out, gasping as he tugged on the collar of your shirt, pulling you closer to him. The center console was the only thing that separated you two. 

“Princess,” he whispered. “I’ve wanted you for so fucking long. Ever since you said, you wanted to punch Shittykawa in the face.”

“Really?”

“Really.” his eyes landed on your lips, beautiful and begging to be kissed. “I’ve wanted you for so fucking long. Please,” his hot breath grazed your cheek. “Please tell me that you want me to. But I’m warning you right now,” he kissed your burning skin. “Once you tell me you do, I won’t hold myself back anymore.”

A sensation began to bubble inside your belly, his words causing your core to throb with want. You parted your lips, wetting them with your tongue. “Iwa,” your voice was barely a whisper. “Please, I want you.”

Iwaizumi let go of your shirt, his eyes flaring with passion and lust. “Get in the backseat, now.” he growled, climbing over the center console. You eagerly followed him, finding a spot on his lap. His hands secured themselves on the fat of your hips, making sure you didn’t go anywhere. It's not like you wanted to, anyway. 

“I’ve been waiting for this for so fucking long, princess,” he groaned before slamming his lips against yours in a frenzy. His lips assaulted yours, greedy and shameless. Your mind became TV static, your lips dancing with his as if it was a reflex, as if you had done this a million times before. You moaned into the kiss as he groped you without a care, his hands slipping under the hem of your gym shorts. You gasped as his warm hands wandered, exploring you as if he was attempting to map out your perfect curves.

His hand was scolding hot as it ventured to finger the elastic, ripping the cheap fabric. He swallowed your surprised gasp, smirking into the kiss. “Fuckin’ cheap fabric,” he growled, his hand massaging up and down your panties. “I’ll buy you a new pair, don’t worry, your pretty lil’ head about it.” 

Iwaizumi broke the kiss, resting his head in the crook of your neck while his fingers continued their gentle dance across your clothed, dripping cunt. The digits ran up and down the soaked material, causing him to shudder. “Fuck, you’re this wet from just a kiss?” he groaned against your neck, the sharpness of his canines grazing the sensitive skin. He could have sworn he could hear your heartbeat coming from the veins. Your pulse was thundering, it was fucking addictive. His lips ventured up and down your delicate neck, leaving wanting, open-mouthed kisses in the spots that made you squirm so beautifully on your lap. His teeth nibbled down on your sweet spot, causing your hips to buck into his hard-on.

“Needy fucking girl,” his voice rumbled, fingers dipping into your panties to toy with your sobbing slit. You whimpered, resting your forehead onto his own as the calloused pads of his thick fingers teased your clit. “Fuck, you’re soaked. D’ya even need me to finger this pussy, or are you such a fucking slut that you’re this wet all the time?” his hands cracked against your ass. “Hm? Talk to me, princess.”

“Only you!” you yelped. Iwaizumi chuckled darkly, lifting his head from your neck to greet you with a blown-out stare. His eyes told you everything you needed to know; they told you that he wanted to fucking ruin you on his cock like he’s been wanting to all these years.

“That’s what I like to fucking hear,” he slapped your ass again, making you gasp and jolt. His lips quickly met yours once more as his finger bullied its way inside your cunt, curling inside without mercy or forgiveness. “Shit, you’re squeezing around my finger. Do you really need to get fucked that fucking bad, hm? Is my girl a little slut?”

“M’not a slut!” you sobbed, tossing your head back. Your hands gripped his muscular shoulders with white-hot-knuckle strength, making Iwaizumi hiss in pain. Not that he was complaining. He fucking loved it.

“Fuck, I can’t take this anymore,” he pulled his finger out of your weeping cunt, licking off your slick. “Ya taste so fucking good, shit,” he groaned, sliding off his sweatpants and boxers so that his cock could spring free. You moaned at the sight, taking in his magnificent length. He was small by no means necessary, boasting a lengthy and girthy cock with an angry red tip that was leaking precum. “Turn around and hover above it.”

You did as he instructed, pushing your ruined panties to the side so your pulsating core was just above his angry cock. His hands snaked around the small of your waist, pulling your flush up against his chest. “You’re gonna be a good fucking slut and let me fuck you on this cock, yeah? If I think you’re being too quiet for even a second,” his voice dropped to a deadly whisper. “I’m gonna fuck you stupid.”

“Iwa,” your words died on your tongue as his fingers were abruptly shoved into your mouth, making you gag.

“Don’t fucking call me Iwa,” he demanded, his cock teasing your entrance. “It’s Hajime now. Don’t be a dumbass and forget it when I’m breaking you on this cock. Am I clear, pretty girl?”

You nodded, tears swelling in your eyes. His fingers slid out of your mouth and back onto your hips, squeezing the fat. “Be a good little slut and take this cock,” he growled, biting down harshly onto your neck before slamming you onto his cock without mercy, refusing to give your tight pussy anytime to adjust. 

“Oh god, yes,” Iwaizumi moaned against your neck, bouncing you expertly on his length. His eyes were hooded with lust and desire as he looked over your shoulder. The sight of your pussy swallowing his cock was magnificent. Especially how you struggled to take his length, you poor thing. Maybe he’ll be nicer to you next time. “Do you see yourself, princess? That pretty pussy is swallowing me whole. Good fucking girl.”

You writhed and squirmed on his lap, helpless as Iwaizumi used you like a toy. His hands reached around to pull down your top, exposing your bralette to the hot atmosphere. He pulled your bra down as well, shamelessly pinching and squeezing your pillowy mounds as his cock drove itself inside you with reckless abandon. 

“Y’been hiding these perfect tits from me too? Naughty fucking girl,” his hand dropped your breast and smacked your clit, earning a shriek from your bruised lips. “Can’t believe I waited this fucking long to grope these tits, fuck. I wonder what else you’re hiding, hm?” his hips never relented, continuing their rushed and desperate pace in harsh and fast strokes. 

“You look like such a slut right now. God, I wish I could see that pretty face,” he purred against the shell of your ear, licking the cartilage. His praise was so fucking addictive, making you shamelessly clench on his cock. “Oh, y’like when I call you pretty? Get fucking used to it.”

“I’m gonna make you ruin yourself on me,” his voice rasped, the tip of his cock twitching inside of you. “You’re gonna cum all over this fucking cock, and then I’ll cum inside, yeah? No one’s ever gonna fuck this pretty cunt again unless I say so. Until your Hajime says so, okay, princess?” he smacked your clit again, gathering your slick on his fingers. “Who’s the only one that can fuck this pretty pussy?”

“You! It’s yours, Hajime!” you sobbed, the rest of your meaningless rambling dying on your lips as he shoved his fingers inside your mouth once more. Your tongue wrapped around the digits, tasting your delicious slick. Your pussy fluttered around his cock, trying to pull him impossibly deeper inside of you. You were so fucking greedy.

Iwaizumi snarled against your neck, fucking you even harder. His hips continued to snap as he drove himself deeper and deeper inside, the sensation of your pussy doing its best to milk him being all that he needed. “You’re gonna fucking cum, yeah? That’s it, princes, make a fucking mess on me. Get your Hajime all sticky with your cum like a good fucking girl.”

With Iwaizumi’s encouragement, you finally let go. You came with a wanton sob, the bubbles in your belly boiling over to send you crashing over the edge and into oblivion. You could have sworn you saw white. Iwaizumi fucked you through it, whispering sweet nothings as your release coated his cock. 

“Oh, shit,” he groaned into your neck, biting down once more on the bruised skin as his cock twitched one final time, his release spilling inside to fill your cunt up so nicely. “Good fucking girl, take it all.” his hands fell to his hips, slumping against the leather seat.

“Hajime,” you groaned, reluctantly pulling yourself off his cock. His cum ran down your ruined thighs, mixing with your slick. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to do that.” you offered him a weak smile, staring at your ripped and forgotten-about jean shorts. “Dammit, you ripped them! These were my favorite pair. And now I don’t have any pants!” you scolded him, hitting him over the head with the fabric. “We’re in a parking lot, and I have no damn pants!”

“Relax,” he sighed, pulling up his pants and boxers. “Did you forget I was driving you home? Besides,” he pecked your lips. “I’m coming over, and we’re gonna cuddle and shit. Whatever you want.” he blushed, not meeting your gaze. He was still scared of you seeing him blush even after you were so intimate.

“Whatever I want?” you teased. “You’re cute when you get all flustered, Hajime.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

[leilanihours]

# IMGONNAGETYOUBACK

pairing: paige bueckers x ex-gf/iowa!reader

word count: 4880

warnings: suggestive content, arguing

summary: your "rivalry" with a certain uconn blonde has its speculation, but no one knows what happened behind the scenes.

⭑ from lani: why is every single thing ive posted based off of a song..anyways..hope yall enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it

masterlist !

AS YOU SLIP into your black jersey, adrenaline courses through your veins. you and your teammates have successfully carried iowa to the final four of march madness. you've all come this far and refuse to break the streak.

but similar to your previous game against lsu, there's a lot of speculation surrounding the tension on the court with uconn. people are going crazy over the paige bueckers and caitlin clark face-off, but they’re going even crazier over your own heated interactions with the blonde.

the internet has decided to constantly pit you two against each other after observing your intense taunting and confrontations in previous years. they believe that it’s merely competitive tendencies but they have no idea where it all actually stems from.

you haven’t always been a hawkeye. for your first two years of college, you were a husky through and through. the public knows this, of course, which adds to the stigma around your name. but after a season-ending injury, you decided you needed a change of pace and environment. it was nothing personal against your teammates, coach, or school in general, you just felt like uconn wasn't where you were supposed to be.

so after you were in the transfer portal, everyone went ballistic. there was a plethora of reactions - some encouraging and supportive, others targeted and calling you a "traitor."

that's what the public is aware of. but they have yet to discover the deeper scars.

"you gonna lock in, y/n?" one of your teammates asks from behind you. turning around, you are met with caitlin, the other hawkeye under extremely close observation tonight.

"i gotchu," you smirk, "what about you? you gonna carry the team again?”

"you already know," she says, mirroring your expression. the two of you have gotten very close over the past couple years, which honestly makes the whole paige situation worse as people make comments like "caitlin and y/n versus paige is crazy" or "ready for this 2v1 game tonight!” they piss all three of you off but really just add to the hype and buildup of the game.

soon enough, your coach is ushering all the girls out of the locker room and onto the court. screams and cheers fill your ears as the crowd observes your entrance. and damn, if your ego wasn't high before, it definitely was now.

the two sides of the arena were filled, one side a sea of navy and white, the other a myriad of gold and black. music blasts from the speakers and makes the walls shake with energy. as you make your way over to the bench, you raise your arms repeatedly to get the crowd going. gaining an immediate reaction, you smile big and put your hand to your ear to play into the praise.

your teammates shake their heads at your antics. they know how competitive you can get. you tend to interact with the crowd and cameras a lot, but no one (especially fans at home) complains.

the crowd before you quiets down for a split second as you focus back onto what your coaches are saying in the huddle. suddenly you hear echoes of booing and other taunts as everyone turns around to see the uconn girls run out excitedly. the last one to come out is none other than paige bueckers, blonde hair in her signature braids and ponytail immediately catching your eye.

part of the reason people always compare you to her is because of how similar you are. your game style, skill set, and energy has always resembled the husky's, but you never understood it until she does the exact same hand motions you did but to the uconn supporters.

as she turns away from the crowd, her eyes dart around to find yours, doing so in a matter of seconds. her icy blue eyes send a chill down your spine as she holds intense contact. fuck. she knows exactly what she's doing. 

you can tell from the few seconds your eyes are glued to hers that she still wants you. you just know. there's too much emotion behind the stare, saying everything that needs to be said and more.

coach bluder gives the run-down on defensive assignments quickly and explains some of the plays. somehow, by some force of nature, you're stuck guarding the one person you were conflicted with: number five, paige bueckers.

your teammates all turn to you as soon as the words leave your coach's mouth. they are well aware of your special history with the blonde as well as your complicated relationship now.

"you got that, y/n?" caitlin asks you.

"yeah," you shrug, "you don't have to worry about me. i'm good." and you meant it. you were sick of being compared to paige all the time and were ready to show people who's better.

did you still care for the girl? of course; you always have and always will. but will you let that get in the way of your winning streak? hell no.

the referee beckons each team to the center of the court for the tip-off. hannah sets herself up for the jump ball, standing across from aaliyah edwards on uconn's side. 

you confidently walk over to where paige is standing. your eyes meet hers once again as you wordlessly dap her up, offering a civil front. you already know you'll being seeing the clip on your feed a lot tomorrow morning.

despite the cordial interaction, your mind is running wild at the feel of paige's long fingers brushing against yours. you missed her like crazy, but were also upset with her for multiple different reasons. right now you were enemies, opponents, rivals. but in a few hours after the game? well, you would have to wait and see.

the ref throws the ball in the air and aaliyah manages to get her fingers on the ball first to swat in her teammates' directions. uconn almost immediately turns it over due to paige missing kk's pass as the ball goes out of bounds. it's just too easy.

------

the buzzer sounds loudly, signaling the end of the second quarter and halftime. you and your teammates jog to the locker room, sweaty and out of breath. the score was currently 32-26 with uconn in the lead.

you had to admit, that definitely wasn't your team's best first half but you were ready to come back twice as hard.

"c'mon guys," lisa yells, "we gotta seriously up our game right now and fight against their defense. keep giving them as many fouls as possible.

"caitlin, we're gonna try to give you more threes, so everyone else, if caitlin has the ball, set those screens, got it?"

you all nod wordlessly as you pay attention to her words. your coach turns to you, looking you directly in the eye, her stare deadly.

"y/n, you gotta push bueckers more, don't direct all your focus on getting cait the ball. really use that energy that i know you have."

"yeah i hear you," you pant as you wipe your forehead with a towel. 

one of the coaching assistants hands you a waterbottle, so you immediately squeeze the ice cold water into your mouth without putting the nozzle on your lips. it's a habit that you have whenever you're in a rush or busy thinking about something.

"and one more thing, y/n," you hear your coach call you before you make your way back on the court, "please, for the love of god, leave your emotions out of it tonight."

the words shoot a prick in your chest, not expecting such a direct statement. nonetheless, you nod firmly, agreeing with her as you jog to where your team is lingering.

you may or may not have had a few...touchy altercations with a certain number five.

like in the middle of the first quarter...

------

"bueckers with the lay-up, does she get it? no! it is rebounded by l/n!"

your hands grasp the ball tightly under the net but before you can make your way over to the opposite side of the court, another set of hands on the ball stops you.

you look up to see paige also grabbing the ball as it sits in your hands, starting to fight to get it in her possession. with the two of you pulling back and forth, the refs whistle blows to put an end to the quarrel.

however, you two continue to push until one of your teammates wraps their arms around you to pull you off. walking away, you laugh, energized by the interaction. you put your hands up in surrender as kate releases you from her grip.

you turn your head back around to see that paige has also been forcefully pulled away by one of her own teammates with a similar expression on her face, clearly as equally as fired up as you.

------

and the middle of the second quarter...

------

"THREEEEEEE! Y/N L/N!"

you flex your arms and let out a proud yell. it's your fourth score of the night and you feel amazing. your teammates clamor over to you, patting you on your back and bumping you with their chests.

paige failed to block your attempt, putting her arms up and jumping but not being able to reach the ball before it falls in the net.

seeing her tough front falter for a second, you point a finger to her just to spice up the game a little more and get the crowd really going. she shakes her head and chuckles darkly, waving you off with a hand.

"did you see that? bueckers and l/n back at it again with their supposed rivalry, what a dynamic duo, am i right?"

------

time flies rapidly as the clock runs down. it's the last quarter of the game and tensions are at an all time high. with less than ten seconds left, iowa has the lead 71-69. it's way too close for comfort.

everyone's on edge. the announcers narrating the game for folks at home, coaches, benched teammates, the audience on either side of the court.

when uconn forces a turnover, you stand out of bounds waiting to pass the ball in. 1.1 on the clock. paige stands with her back to you. no one could've predicted your next move. 

you take advantage of her guard let down and quickly bounce the ball off of her, chopping the time in half as she fails to catch it in time and lets it out of bounds once again.

you feel a second of remorse once you catch the defeated look on her face. but you couldn't let the game slip out of your hands that easily. not without a fight.

less than one second on the clock, there's no way for uconn to win. caitlin passes the ball to gabbie who simply throws it high in the air to run down the clock.

the buzzer sounds as you and your teammates run into a group hug, screaming and cheering. you have a small celebration before going to the handshake line. as you pass and commend the uconn coaches and players, you allow your fingers to linger on paige's for a second longer than others.

when she meets your eyes there’s a look of hurt apparent in them, yours filled with guilt. you know how important that game was to her, to her entire collegiate career. but this game was also important to you, she had to know that.

------

your teammates insisted on celebrating at a nearby bar and restaurant, feeling high off the recent victory.

you were obviously down to go with them, but decided to take a little extra time in the locker room showers just to get some peace and quiet to yourself. you tell the girls that you'll catch up in your own car.

so now you're changing into a fresh set of clothes in a dim, empty locker room. some people might find the setting eerie but you enjoy the stillness of it all, especially after the day you've had. 

you’re wearing a basic white crop top and a muted purple skirt, a thick black leather jacket draped over your shoulders to protect yourself from the cold evening air. as you grab your backpack and make your way out to the gym’s parking lot, you spot a familiar figure wandering around aimlessly.

of fucking course i'm left here with her, you think.

you let out an irritated sigh as you continue to rub a small towel against your head to dry your hair.

the sound of your shoes against the pavement catches paige's attention and causes her to turn around. when she observes your relaxed, freshly showered figure, her chest tightens. whether it's from hatred or attraction, she doesn't know.

"hey," she yells to you, stalking over.

you look up to her direction and laugh, "you look like a lost puppy, bueckers."

"damn," she says, "first you decide to beat me and now you're insulting me and calling me by my last name? way to kick me when i'm down, y/n.”

you try not to display how flustered you feel when she says your name like that, “i didn't decide to beat you, i just did. deal with it."

"attitude much? i'm just tryna be civil, ma, no need for the hostility."

that fucking nickname.

"did you need something from me? i'm just tryna meet up with the team so spit it out."

"you heading to the bar?"

"yes," you say skeptically, "how the hell do you know that?"

"i'm heading there too, dumbass," she replies.

"what the hell are you talking about?"

"your team invited mine to hangout," of course they did, "is that a problem?"

"might be," you respond shortly, "so why are you here if the rest of your team is at the bar?"

"i could ask you the same question, l/n," she mocks the way you say her last name.

"i asked you first."

"eager to hear me talk i see." before you can reject the idea she interrupts you, “it’s okay, i know how much you love my voice."

she's not wrong, of course, but you would never admit it to her face. you ignore the question with a roll of your eyes.

"i took a longer shower than everyone else,” you shrug, “told 'em i'll just meet them there. your turn."

she laughs nervously before answering, “uh, i was actually supposed to get a ride from azzi but i guess she forgot," she says as she looks around the empty parking lot. now it's your turn to tease her.

"that's crazy," you laugh and shake your head, "your own friends don't even wanna be around you."

"man, shut up," she scoffs.

there's a beat of silence before you begin to walk to your car, getting the hint that the conversation was over.

you hear paige groan behind you before asking, "yo..do you think you could give me a ride?"

the nerve.

"excuse me?" you say incredulously as you unlock your car door and slip into the driver's seat. the blonde jogs up to your car, resting an arm on the frame of your door. you become hyper aware of how close you are, and how good she looks.

for the first time since you started talking to her, you take in her appearance. she's wearing a light blue cropped tank top, almost like a sports bra, and dark gray distressed jeans. there's a white uconn hoodie in her hands.

the amount of skin exposed makes your body heat up. the way her arms are flexed against your car makes you think back to the many times they've been flexed underneath your weight.

“can i. get. a ride.” she staggers out, like it’s painful to ask you for a favor. you take advantage of her position immediately.

“i dunno, can you?” you smirk.

“i fucking hate you, do you know that?”

“i dunno, do i?”

“dude.”

you throw your head forward in a laugh, shoulders shaking at her irritation.

“you’re so easy to piss off, i love it.”

“yeah well there’s a lot of other things about me that i know you love but we don’t have to talk about that.”

“do you want a ride or not?” you deadpan, “’cause if you’re gonna act like this all night i don’t want you at the bar, bro.”

“‘bro’? that’s what we’ve come to? that’s even worse than just bueckers, y/n.”

“just shut up and get in the car.”

“yes ma’am,” she says with a mock salute as she closes your door and jogs around the front of the car to the passenger seat.

as you turn on the engine, paige settles into the spot next to you and immediately reaches for the aux cord .

“um,” you pause, “what are you doing?”

“blessing you with my awesome music taste? what do you think i’m doing?”

“absolutely not,” you say, “my car, my rules.”

“um, no. the ‘rule’ is that the passenger chooses the playlist while the driver sets up the queue. we’ve been over this.”

“okay but,” you start carefully, “that was when we were together.”

silence.

“so do you want the ‘late night drives’ playlist or the ‘oldies but goodies’ playlist?”

“what?”

“you heard me.”

she brushes over your comment painfully fast. you had no idea why. you refuse to leave it at that.

“just put on our playlist."

more silence. you gotta be kidding me.

“i don’t-“

“don’t even try, paige, i know you still have it.”

“but-“

“don’t fight me on this. all i want is to celebrate with my team and get a drink so can you please hurry up so we can go?”

“shit,” you hear her say under her breath, “yeah.” she pushes her hips forward as she gets comfortable in the seat.

your eyebrows furrow at the reaction. this girl is so fucking complicated. you weren’t sure if you wanted to curse her out or take her right there.

———

“y/n!! you made it!” jada squeals as you walk into the bar, “and…paige? wait. are you two back together??”

“hell no.”

“definitely not.”

you and paige turn to each other.

“oookayy..” jada trails as she pulls you away from the blonde in the direction of where your team was sat.

the girls cheer your name as you take a seat next to caitlin. you can tell they’ve already had at least two drinks each.

“hey,” caitlin says with a warm smile, “you got some catching up to do. let’s go get you a drink.”

she ushers you to the bar where you are able to sit and observe the environment. the venue is fairly dark, the ceiling lights dimmed to a warm hue with a few candles on each table. the stools at the bar were a cold metal that gave you goosebumps. all the table booths have dark brown leather couches on one side and wooden chairs with intricate designs on the other.

“so,” caitlin starts after she’s ordered you a drink, lord knows what it was, “i saw you and paige walk in together. that mean anything?”

“please,” you scoff, “i’m done with her, cait, like seriously.” she stays silent, waiting for you to continue, “i mean, she’s so annoying and cocky and confusing, it’s exhausting - i hate her.”

“you sure about that?”

“yes.”

“then why do you still put up with her?”

“what do you mean?”

“i mean,” she says as the bartender delivers two of the same drink, one for you and one presumably for herself, “just stop talking to her. ignore her.”

you pause to think. “but she’s always the one starting these dumbass petty fights.”

“then don’t answer her?”

“i have to.”

“and why is that?” she eggs you on, sipping on her drink.

“because,” you sigh, “i can’t let her win.”

“or,” caitlin smirks as the two of you get up to head back to your table, “you still like being around her.”

“as if.”

“okay. tell me this then - why do you two still smile at each other like nothing has changed?”

“we almost never see them, cait.”

“no, i know but…i saw the way you looked at her today. you still like her, y/n.”

you two have returned to your seats with the rest of the team. you find yourself looking for a particular blonde (again) across the room. the uconn girls were sitting at a similar table to the one you were currently at, just on the other side of the bar.

to your relief, caitlin drops the conversation to engage in one with kate about the game. you quietly sip on your drink as you continue to stare at paige. she’s smiling - laughing - with azzi and aaliyah. you missed them. you missed her. you didn’t acknowledge it until now, until caitlin knocked some sense into you. you did enjoy being around her, mainly because it reminded you of how it was before you transferred to iowa. even though your conversations consist of constant jabs and insults, it was better than radio silence.

but you also hated it. you hated how you couldn’t be with her like you used to. you hated how you left. you hated how she treated you when you left. you hated how she acted like nothing happened. that’s why you have to win every time you’re up against her - literally and figuratively.

paige scored four three-pointers in a game? you score five. paige got six rebounds? you got seven. paige had eight assists? you had nine. it wasn’t just for yourself, it was for the media. with how they constantly have a magnifying glass on your life, you can’t jeopardize your career. so you have to be better than her.

your jaw clenches at the thought of the pressure, the expectation. you down the rest of your way too light cocktail and make your way back to the bar for a stronger drink.

“hey,” you say to the bartender, “can i get a sex on the beach, please?” he nods with a polite smile as he walks away to make your order.

“still rockin with those?” you hear an all-too-familiar voice say.

“if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it,” you mutter, not bothering to turn to her.

she scoffs. what is her problem now? you think.

“you’re so damn predictable,” she laughs, “it’s hilarious.”

“at least i’m reliable,” you retort, “when’s the last time you had any stability in your life?”

“when i was with you,” she says immediately.

that makes you turn your head. you are greeted with paige’s cold eyes and an unreadable expression.

“what are you doing, paige? what are we doing?” you sound exhausted.

“you tell me. i never got a good explanation when you…left.”

“i tried. you wouldn’t let me. didn’t think you wanted to hear from me after our last conversation.”

“don’t pin this on me,” she says pointedly, “you left me.”

“i didn’t have a choice, paige, you have to understand that.”

“but did you have to leave me? you know we could’ve worked it out.”

“could we have?”

she sighs. the conversation has elevated quickly. you didn’t expect her to open up like this now, to bring all of this up now. maybe it was the ambient atmosphere or the influential alcohol, or both. the man behind the bar sets your drink down on a small napkin in front of you, but you decide against going back to your table.

“so…” she says quietly, “have you been seeing anyone? i know how the fans like to twist shit, but is any of it true?”

“wouldn’t you like to know,” you laugh.

“hey, i’m just tryna gauge where you’re at right now. scope out the competition, you know how it is.”

“‘scope out the competition’?”

she shrugs.

“have you been seeing anyone?”

“have you heard that i’m seeing anyone?”

god, this girl could not give a simple answer to save her life. but two can play that game.

“maybe i have. maybe i haven’t. and maybe i’ve seen you with a certain husky named azzi?” you have no clue where you got this idea knowing damn well that they’re nothing more than friends.

“and what if i am? you jealous, ma?” they’re nothing more than friends…right?

“hilarious.”

“that’s not a no.”

“no, it’s not..” you mumble under your breath, turning away from her to avoid her burning stare.

“good.” what the hell is this girl getting at? her avoidant yet suggestive responses set something off in you. “you never answered my question.”

“i am with someone,” you lie through your teeth, wanting to get a reaction out of her.

her breath hitches, “who?” her tone is targeted with a hint of…anger?

“why do you care? you’re with azzi right?”

“i never said that.”

“but you didn’t deny it,” you point out, using her own tactics.

“i am now. i’m not with her. so who are you with?”

“i don’t need to tell you anything.”

“so you’re not with anyone?” she laughs. this girl.

“i am.”

“then tell me.”

“no.”

“fine. be like that,” and suddenly she’s pulling you up from the barstool and into a poorly-lit hallway.

“where are we going?” you demand as you two turn a corner, the only light is the distant hue from the main part of the bar.

“we need to talk about this.”

“talk about what?”

“this,” she motions between the two of you as she pushes you against a wall, one strong arm preventing you from leaving.

“there’s nothing to talk about.”

“i’m not gonna let you keep dodging this, y/n. you left me to go to whole different state with no explanation whatsoever.”

“because you ghosted me first! what was i supposed to do?”

“we were supposed to work it out. remember? when we were teammates on and off the court?”

“you shut me out.”

“because, y/n,” she sighs deeply, “i knew i couldn’t handle it if i had to say goodbye to you. i would’ve-“ she stops herself.

“you would’ve what?”

after about ten seconds of silence, she whispers, “i would’ve begged you not to go - not to leave me.”

your eyes shoot to hers, but she’s looking down at the floor. her head is almost resting against yours as you observe her adamant yet vulnerable state. you’ve never seen her like this.

from what you’ve seen online, paige seemed to have the time of her life after you transferred. you assumed that she moved on so easily, so quickly. you didn’t consider that it was all just a front.

“paige,”

“what?” she barely gets out, still avoiding your eyes.

“look at me,” she doesn’t, “please.”

her head flies up at that, “what?” she repeats.

you don’t know what to say, you just needed to see her - really see her. her eyes are filled with such clear emotion yet you can’t put your finger on what she was feeling. from her body language you can tell that she misses you. and as you realize you subconsciously put your own hand on her waist, you body is telling you that you miss her too. 

you contemplate your next move for a second, questioning if all of this is worth it. but she’s worth it. in the time you’ve spent apart from her, you grew and matured. you also realize that you need her like you need oxygen. you come to the conclusion that you always have, but it took distance and space to accept it.

not wanting to get too in your head, you smash your lips onto hers as your shoulders instantly relax. you feel paige pause but eventually melt into the kiss, moving her hands up to the nape of your neck. you bring your other hand up to her wrist, resting it there as you relish in the feeling of her lips finally against yours after almost two years. you guide her hand down to your thigh as you move to grasp her shoulders. she glides over your upper thing, riding up your lilac skirt.

she breaks the kiss for a moment, “i’ve always loved you in purple.”

before she can resume the heated kiss, you push against her and observe your surroundings. to your left is the open area you just came from, all your friends oblivious to your activities. all the way down to your right is a door leading out to the back lot and a closer door - presumably a supply closet.

you weigh out your options: do you want to stop the interaction completely, drag her into your car all the way outside, or simply shove her into the closet and have your way with her?

smirking up at her, you pull her into the closet as she laughs at your desperation but follows you nonetheless. 

yes, there were still broken pieces in your relationship. yes, you have always claimed to hate each other. but no, you weren’t leaving without her, even if you had to use handcuffs.

she was never not yours, and you were never not hers.

— leilani signing off ! 📁

[woso-dreamzzz]

Mignon & Pollito

Barcelona Femení x Teen!Reader

@wileys-russo's Pollito x Teen!Reader

Summary: You and your partner in crime

Whether it was the gods smiling down on you or just an extreme miscalculation on the staff's part, you and Pollito end up sharing a room.

This training camp was only a week long so it must be fairly expensive to move you all from Barcelona to here but, you're not the higher-ups at the club so you don't get much of a say.

"I'm bored," Pollito declares and you roll your eyes.

"Would you prefer sleeping on the bottom bunk?" You ask dryly," I heard that's more interesting."

Pollito's head appears above you, poking over the edge of the top bunk that she had wrestled you onto the ground to get to first.

"Don't be silly!" She says, a smug grin on her face," I'm doing you a service! I'm letting you stay away from the top bunk boredom."

"I'm sure I can deal with it."

"Yeah, but you Frenchies always change your minds."

"I'm trying not to be offended here."

Pollito's grin only widens and her fingers appear to jab you in the forehead.

"I'm still bored."

"I've got UNO."

"UNO's shit."

"Unless you're playing Jana. I made twenty euros off her in one round."

"Oh, shit, you're right. Let's go and find Jana."

"We're banned," You remind her," After that time that we rigged the game."

"Oh, yeah."

The bed above you creaks as Pollito throws her back against in annoyance.

"Is there really nothing we're allowed to do?"

"Irene said that we can get lunch. We just have to tell the others that we're doing that."

"But they'll make us eat healthy."

"Yeah."

Silence for a moment and then...

"I'm bored!"

You jab your feet up into the mattress on top of you and Pollito yelps.

"What do you want me to do about that? Play you to sleep?"

"You'd play me to sleep?" Pollito scoffs," What does that mean? Kicking a ball at my head?"

"I meant with my flute, dimwit."

There's silence again

"You can play the flute. Since when?"

"Since always? This isn't new information."

"It is to me!"

Pollito peaks back over your bed, a wide grin spreading over her face. "I think I have an idea."

It's Irene who hears it first.

It starts off quiet, barely audible over the phone call with her wife and son. But it's still audible and she frowns.

"Are you playing music?" She asks and her wife shakes her head.

"It must be coming from your end."

Irene pokes her head out of her hotel room, spotting a few of the others doing the same.

"Who's playing that music?!" Alexia complains, looking like she's been woken up from a very good nap if her messy hair is anything to go by.

"I thought it was Pina."

"Me?" Pina scoffs," I don't like classical music."

"It's hardly classical music," Keira says," It's the song from the Muppets. You know that one that goes 'do doo be-do-do, mahna mahna, do do-do do'-"

Everyone to turns to look at her, similar looks of judgement as Keira peters off, face crimson.

"Or, you know, I think that's what it is."

"Either way," Alexia brushes her off," Who is making that noise?"

What started off as soft flute music suddenly gets louder and louder until it's booming across the whole floor and Alexia's grip tightens on her door frame.

Her eyes dart to the room at the end of the corridor and she does a quick count in her head.

Everyone and their roommates are hanging out of their doors, heads poking out to see what all the noise is.

Everyone except two people.

Her teeth grind together.

"Who let Pollito and Mignon in the same room together? Who let them room together with no supervision?"

Usually, Alexia would be the one sorting out all of the rooms but she'd left it to the staff this time because she'd gotten distracted on the bus when Pollito had hidden you up in the luggage rack and you'd taken it upon yourself to drip water onto Mapi's head from your hiding spot.

"Er...They might still be in there?" Pina offers up but everyone else knows that it's a pipe dream to say something like that.

"Spread out," Alexia snaps," And find them." She massages her temples. "They take years off my life."

The longer they take, the louder the music gets until it rings in their ears with every step.

There's thumping at the door and you jolt, your flute music wavering as Pollito pops her head up to look through the window.

"It's Ingrid and Frido! Pretend we're not here!"

You both hide under the window where they can't see you.

The change in position makes your playing a bit unstable for a moment as you adjust, fingers cramping from the past forty-five minutes of nonstop repetition.

"I know you're in there!" Frido bangs on the door," This is the room with the sound system. Come out!"

"You'll never take us alive!" Pollito yells back and you want to hit her for being stupid.

"Shut up! You've blown our cover."

A hand reaches through the window and you instantly want to murder the idiot who thought windows should be able to be opened from the outside because Ingrid's hand immediately grabs onto your flute.

You yelp, finally stopping your playing as you try to wrestle it back.

"Hey! No! That's mine!"

"Give it over," Ingrid says," And we'll tell Alexia that you both cooperated."

You pop your head over the window. "Give us a moment to discuss."

"We can't just give in," Pollito says to you in a hushed whisper.

"Well when our other option is to run the laps Alexia will make us do if she finds out we fought them..."

"You make a good point but...No, you do make a good point." Pollito sigh," Fine. Let's give in."

You clap her on the shoulder. "Don't worry. We may have lost the battle but we haven't lost the war."

Frido sighs from the other side of the door, hitting her head repeatedly against the wall.

"You're both so dramatic."

[prettyfastcars]

dangerous, tainted, and flawed | Dark!Mob!Lando

Summary: You met your husband under disturbing circumstances a couple of years ago. Your home was under attack one night, by one of your family’s rivals, and Lando – one of your father’s allies – came to help. He found you in your bedroom that night, and managed to save you but unfortunately no one else in your family survived the attack. You were distraught after that night, having lost everything, but Lando took care of you. Eventually, you two fell in love, he proposed, and you got married. Your life has been perfect ever since. Sure, you missed your family but you thanked the gods everyday for Lando. However, you didn’t know the whole truth about that night, did you? 

Themes: dark!lando, explicit language, smut, fluff, mentions of death, loss, and violence, possessive!lando

“Baby?” He called out, “I’m home.” 

His voice echoed in the foyer. 

The house was so spacious that often you couldn’t hear him when he called out for you, and he knew that. That’s why instead of calling out again, he followed the sweet smelling scent and the soft music instead. Both came from the kitchen; the smell of warm muffins and a soft woman’s voice singing about chemtrails over a country club. 

Lando leaned against a wall quietly for a minute, smiling to himself as he watched you moving around in the high-ceilinged, farmhouse style kitchen. You didn’t know he was here yet. You were busy mumbling the lyrics of the song while chopping veggies, probably making dinner and baking muffins all at the same time. 

Cooking calmed you down, ‘It’s therapeutic’ you once told him. And he’d been married to you for not too long but he knew that this is what you did whenever you had a long day at work. You were a successful gallerist and often you had to deal with snobbish people, or ‘young money kids who had no true appreciation for art’ as you also told him. 

He let his eyes take you in. You were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, prettier than anything you’d ever exhibited he often told you, but the way you squirmed in embarrassment told him that you didn’t really believe it. That’s fine though, he’d spend a whole lifetime reminding you of that anyway. 

Once he was done ogling, that damn pale pink corset top of yours driving him insane as it was, he finally walked up to you and surprised you by wrapping his arms around you from behind. “There you are, baby,” He said, shoving his face into your neck and giving you as many kisses as he could. 

You giggled and tried to get away as he attacked your neck with kisses and soft bites but he tightened his grip around you. 

“Fuck, you smell so good.” He groaned, voice muffled now that he was nuzzling your neck like he always does. “I missed you so much.” 

“Lando,” You laughed, “I’m holding a knife!” You squealed, laughing and still trying to escape his ticklish kisses before any one gets hurt. “Okay you seriously need to shave, that stubble of yours hurts.” You managed to get him to stop. You placed the knife down and turned to face him as you leaned against the counter, caressing his cheeks as you cupped his face in your hands. “Too rough.” You commented, rubbing your fingers across his barely visible, but spiky stubble. 

He raised an eyebrow at you, his handsome face lighting up with mischief. “Is it?” He teased, “You weren’t complaining about it being too rough this morning.” He leaned in to whisper into your ear, purposely rubbing his cheek against yours, “Were you, baby?” 

Ah. This morning… 

You woke up feeling… funny. You opened your eyes and found that your husband wasn’t in his usual spot beside you on the bed. Instead he was busy down there, between your legs. You lifted the soft covers and found him looking up at you with nothing but desire and trouble in his eyes. 

You let out a soft moan when he held your stare while kissing your clit, and sucking on it before letting go. “Morning, baby.” He whispered, then got back to eating you out like he was starving. 

You threw the covers off and slid your fingers into his hair instead, “Lando…” You whined, the pleasure taking over you. “I’m gonna be late for work.” You mumbled, already feeling yourself getting to the edge. “I have clients waiting for me, you know? I have meetings, and…” You gasped, forgetting what the hell you were talking about in the first place once he began fucking you gently with his tongue. 

Damn his tongue and soft lips. 

Lando chuckled, a cocky look in his eyes when he pulled away and asked, “Meetings and what, baby?” 

“Don’t be a tease,” You groaned, shoving his mouth back to where you wanted him. He chuckled before working his tongue against your wet slit, his fingers slowly sliding in and out of you until you came with a soft cry. 

But he wasn’t done yet… 

Lando smirked as he looked at you, surely thinking back to this morning as well. 

You rolled your eyes at him. “You did get me late for work, you know?” You shook your head, turning back around to focus on the food that you were making. “Then there’s that anonymous collector,” You sighed. Lando wrapped his arms around you from behind again, placing his chin on your shoulder and gently swaying you side to side as you ranted a little bit. “I don’t mind them, whoever they are,” You said, “I do sell them a lot of stuff but why can’t they just show their face? It’s weird, you know, having a client without a face.” You sighed, “And then a really important meeting got cancelled. And one of the artists’ whose work is about to be exhibited soon is being a real brat.” 

Lando hummed, occasionally kissing your neck and shoulder as you complained a little more. “I’m sorry you had a tough day, baby.” He mumbled, kissing around your ear, “Want me to handle this collector for you? Or the artist?” 

You chuckled, knowing the nature of your husband’s work and his temper, “No. Please don’t.” You added, “I love my work, it’s just a bad day, that’s it.” 

“Okay,” He kissed along your exposed shoulder, “Then how about a bath? You want that? Or how about some wine?”  

You leaned into touch, “Bath for later,” You said, “The wine for now, please.” 

“Yes, my lady,” Lando let go of you with one final kiss on the side of your head.

You watched him as he left the kitchen. He took his suit jacket off and rolled the sleeves of his white shirt up to his elbows. Then before he turned to head to the wine cellar, he gave you a wink, acknowledging that he gave you a little strip show. You shook your head at him. 

Once alone in the kitchen, you smiled to yourself as you thought about how far you and Lando had come in just a few years. 

Your smile faded into a sad one as you thought about the day, or night rather, you first met him. 

The sounds of gunshots and screams woke you up. You couldn’t hear anything but the chaos outside your bedroom. Bullets, screams, orders being shouted, furniture being wrecked, glass being broken, more screams… all of it muffled as you ran into your walk-in closet and hid in the dark. 

You couldn’t stop the silent tears from streaming down your face. You knew what this meant. It was an ambush. And you also knew that a few hours ago might have been the last time you saw your family. You just hoped they made it out alive. But no one was barging into your room yet… this meant that the fight was happening downstairs. 

You cried some more as you heard more yelling, more gunshots. 

This life, this family you were born into came with situations like this. Your father told you this since you were a child. He was well-known amongst gang leaders and mob bosses, which meant he had more enemies than friends. Sometimes those two were the same people. But your father had kept you hidden for most of your life, away from all this. 

The only reason you were even home tonight was because it was your birthday. You’d begged your father to let you celebrate it at home with everyone… 

You didn’t remember passing out in that closet. You didn’t know what happened or how you were found, just that you were. And when you woke up, you were face to face with a handsome young man with pretty eyes who reassured you that you were safe. 

He said he and his family were friends of your father’s. And that he was sorry but you were the only survivor of that attack. Your family was gone, your house was gone. All was gone. 

The year which followed was the hardest of your life. Grieving, dealing with so many losses, moving on with a heavy heart, getting the help you needed, finally learning how to stand on your own feet again… you couldn’t have done it without Lando. 

He was your rock. Always there when you needed to cry, to share a laugh, to make silly jokes, on days when you wanted to spend hours in bed, on nights when you had nightmares, on days when you felt light and happy, on days when your heart broke all over again, on days when it felt like you were finally healing, he was always there. 

He was a busy man, but he made time for you. 

Falling in love with him was easy. The easiest thing you’d ever done. So when time came, and he got on one knee and asked you to marry him, saying yes was the easiest thing you’d ever done. You knew you were both young, but he was it for you. 

Becoming his wife felt like a dream. Like you were a real princess marrying her knight in shining armour, the one who saved her from every bad thing and promised to protect her fiercely forever. Except your knight wasn’t altruistic, he didn’t come on a white horse and with a sword. Yours was dangerous, tainted and flawed. He came with power, money, guns, and expensive cars. 

“It better be thoughts of me that you’re lost in and not that anonymous collector,” His voice brought you back to the present. “Otherwise I might have to hunt them down and make them disappear forever.” Lando joked as he handed you a glass of your favourite red. 

You leaned against the counter, facing him as you took a long sip. Then you said, “I was thinking about you actually.” 

That cheered him up immediately. “Yeah? Do tell then.” 

You smiled faintly. “Just thinking about how lucky I am that I have you.” You avoided his eyes after. You always did whenever you felt slightly emotional. You always tried to seem stronger than you felt in the moment. 

Lando placed his glass down and came over to wrap you in his arms immediately. Somehow, he always knew when you needed a hug. You wrapped your arms around him and let out a sigh, your heart already feeling lighter just by being in his arms. 

“I’ve got you, baby. Don’t worry.” Lando said softly, his familiar scent already making you feel better. “You’re safe here, with me.” He reassured you. Lando knew you still had a fear somewhere, about being attacked like that night. But he often also reminded you that he was the most powerful man in this city, and no harm was coming your way as long as he lived. 

He often wondered whether you realised how lucky he felt that you were his. That night, when he found you passed out on the floor in the walk-in closet, something in him shifted. He knew he had to keep you safe, always. 

“Thank you,” You murmured against his white shirt. 

Lando pulled away to look down into your eyes. Fuck, he hated it when you cried. It felt like he was being torn apart. He quickly wiped that one tear which barely escaped your eyes and said, “You never have to thank me for taking care of you.” He said with a slight frown. 

“I know,” You whispered and pulled him in for a kiss. A slow, gentle kiss that quickly turned into a heated, passionate one. His hands grabbed you by the hips and pulled you into him, so you could feel the very prominent bulge in his pants. 

It made you whimper just feeling it. “Fuck,” You mumbled against his lips, “Will I ever stop wanting you like this?” Your shaky hands reached down to undo his belt, then just as you reached for his zipper, your stomach grumbled so loudly you were sure all the guards outside could hear it too. 

You both froze at the sound of it, then burst out laughing. Lando threw his head back and laughed so carefreely that you fell a little bit more in love with him at that moment. You didn’t think that was possible, but here you were. 

“I would love to bend you over the counter right here baby,” He chuckled, “but I feel like we need to get some food in you.” He said, kissing your cheek and pulling away to look at you as you tried to hide your face in embarrassment. “Hey, look at me.” He grabbed you by the chin and lifted your head up. “Let’s eat, and I’ll fuck you later. Okay? I promise.” 

You gave him a shy smile, “Okay.” 

—

After a light dinner filled with more laughter and easy conversations, Lando helped you with storing away the cooled off muffins before the two of you finally got into that bath, with another bottle of wine. 

You carefully poured some more wine into your glass before leaning back into Lando’s chest. You sighed again, settling against him. This was your happy place. Scented candles, dimmed lights, warm bath, wine, and of course, the love of your life. 

But then as always, Lando could never keep his hands to himself. It always starts out with innocent touches, along your arm, kissed on your shoulders… then he gets more and more demanding. His fingers caressed your inner thighs until you were squirming against him, his kisses turned into playful bites making you whine and whimper. 

“You never behave.” You mumbled teasingly, closing your eyes and letting him caress and touch you however he wanted. 

“How can I?” He whispered against your neck, “You’re too beautiful to resist.” 

You let out a soft moan when his finger carefully slid inside you. You whispered, breathlessly, “Remember we flooded the bathroom the last time?” 

Lando groaned, pulling his hand away. “Fine, fine. I’ll behave.” He let out a sigh as though you’d asked him to give up breathing. 

You chuckled at his dramatics. 

The two of you ended up staying, soaking until the water got cold. Then went about your respective night time routines before finally getting in bed. Right as you lifted the covers up to get in, Lando grabbed you by the arm and pulled you into him. 

“Ah! Don’t even think about it. We both know you’re gonna start snoring the moment your head hits those pillows.” He pushed you down on top of the covers and tickled you until you were breathless, your satin robe coming undone in the process and exposing your naked body underneath. “Plus, I promised you something before your belly began braying, didn’t I?” 

You shoved him playfully, arguing, “It didn’t bray!” 

Lando pinned your wrists above your head and leaned in for a quick kiss. “Pretty sure the guards will ask me if we brought in a pet donkey tomorrow morning.” 

“Lando!” You laughed, trying to get out of his grasp but he was stronger than he looked. 

He ended up shutting you up with a kiss, his bare chest pressing down against yours. His skin was damp, the chains around his neck were cold, he smelled incredible. He was all you wanted. So you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer. 

He moaned into the kiss when you arched your back, pressing up against him. When he pulled away to look down at you, his stare was fiery, his pretty eyes filled with lust. 

“I love you, you know that right?” He asked. You noticed he often did. 

You nodded quickly. “I know.” You smiled up at him, “And I love you.” 

He smiled before leaning in for a quick kiss before his mouth slowly moved down your body. Kissing along your neck, biting your breasts, kissing down your stomach, your hips, your thighs. 

You lifted your upper body up onto your elbows and met his intense stare. His pretty eyes really were your weakness. Your safe place. Your comfort. Perhaps because when you woke up after that traumatic night years ago, those eyes were the first thing you saw. They’d been your favourite thing since. 

Lando held your stare as he spread your legs further apart, settling in between them. 

He pressed his lips to your inner thigh, his mouth getting closer and closer to your core, you tipped your head back, sighing quietly as you felt his breath against you. You couldn’t help but slide your fingers into his soft, slightly damp hair.

“You’re all mine.” He whispered, his tongue slowly circled your throbbing clit, parting your wet folds with ease. His shoulders parted your legs further apart as he leaned closer. He slowly brought a finger up to your clit, sliding it agonisingly slowly down your slit, parting your wet folds again. 

You trembled under his touch. “All yours,” You sighed in bliss as he slid a finger inside you, stroking your walls gently while he placed his mouth back on your clit.

“Does my face feel too rough now, baby?” He asked. And chuckled proudly when you were only able to moan in response. 

“No…” You gasped, breathless and wanting more even as he teased your clit and finger-fucked you gently. That damn stubble of his rubbed against your poor inner thighs over and over again but you moaned in pleasure despite it all. 

You squirmed and moaned and gasped under his perfect touch. He knew you and your body too well by now, and soon, you were coming undone all over his tongue, your walls clenching violently around his finger. Your fingers scratched his scalp as you tugged harder on his hair as you came.

You were still catching your breath as Lando left small kisses up your body before he hovered above you again, staring deep into your eyes. 

“Please…” You begged, wrapping your legs around his waist again. “I need you in me.” 

Lando gave you a cocky smile before kissing you once again, the taste of you on his tongue still. You didn’t mind the roughness of his stubble this time, but you growled into the kiss because you were impatient and all he did was kiss you over and over again. 

“Impatient, are we?” Lando chuckled at your little growl, not breaking the kiss as he slowly slipped inside of you, groaning into the kiss as he went.

You gasped as he filled you up, all of him stretching you out and fitting nicely inside you. You couldn’t help but moan into his mouth as he moved his hips the slightest bit, making you whine at the feeling of his cock slowly moving in and out of you. 

“Fuck baby, you feel so good…” He groaned, his grip on your body tightens, possibly leaving bruises on your hips and thighs but you didn’t care. 

You would never get bored of this you realised. Of him, his touch, his warmth, his kisses… you were so glad he was yours. 

You could feel your walls clenching around him as he sped up and pounded into you, to a point where the only thing you could focus on was the feeling of him moving against your body. Nothing else in the world mattered. Your long day at work was forgotten, nothing else existed. Just you and him. 

“So fucking good…” He whispered, pounding into you relentlessly, as he bent down to bite your lower lip. 

You moaned at how perfect his lean and muscular body felt against yours. Your legs trembled as you wrapped them tighter around his waist. His thrusts were relentless and unbearably good. You closed your eyes as you felt the pressure around your lower body; tight and hot.

Lando smirked, looking down to where his cock disappeared into you each time he thrust in. “Look at you, baby,” He whispered, “It’s like you were made just for me.” The possessiveness in his voice only made you clench around him again. 

You were unable to say anything because of how good he felt sliding in and out of you. The familiar pressure formed at your core and you whined again when his fingers found your clit while he pounded into you mercilessly.

“Come for me…” he whispered and that was all you needed to hear before you came undone all around him again. Whimpering and back arching off the bed as you came hard around his cock.

He kept pounding into you as your orgasm washed over you, your walls squeezing him violently. Your body trembling under his intense gaze. He watched you in awe, lips parted, breaths in rags, heart racing. 

He almost came as well. But then he slowed down, pulled out and stopped for a moment. He caught his breath, and held back from coming no matter how much he wanted to. He needed to make you come again, he needed to hear you moan for him again. 

“Turn around for me, baby,” He spoke, caressing your thigh as you struggled to sit up. “Come on,” He urged, “Face down, ass up. Come on, baby.” 

You did as he asked, your hips and ass up while your face was pressed against the bed. You were still catching your breath when his hand reached around and touched you in between your legs, his fingers rubbed around your clit and made you tremble and moan given how sensitive you were. 

His body bent over yours, his warm, damp chest pressing against your back as he kissed your shoulder and the back of your neck until his mouth reached your ear, “I know you’re tired, my love,” He whispered, kissing the side of your face while you caught your breath, “But I need you to come for me again. Can you do that for me, baby?” 

You nodded slowly. Lando hummed in satisfaction as he kissed along your shoulder before gripping each side of your hips, and pushing into you from behind. 

Your body was sensitive from earlier, so you whined and whimpered as he filled you up again. Your fingers gripped the covers beneath you tightly, and your mind was foggy, everything was floaty as he pounded into you. 

You reached your high quicker this time, moaning his name and coming undone just a couple of minutes later. 

You felt his thrusts becoming irregular, faster, his cock throb against your walls violently. He groaned and growled as he came, his body wrapping around you from behind. You both fell on your sides, catching your breaths and calming your hearts down. 

“You okay, pretty girl?” He asked, spooning you from behind. 

You could only nod as he kissed you on the back of your neck. 

“You did so good for me, baby.” He murmured, “Now let’s get in bed, yeah?” 

You were pretty much limp after that. So Lando cleaned you up, then himself and then got the bed ready while you just laid there with a smile on your face watching him. He ended up having to tuck you in as well, since you refused to move. 

Lando playfully groaned, “I spoil you too much.” He said, getting on his side of the bed before pulling you close to cuddle under the covers. “People warned me against spoiling my wife too much.” 

You were already half asleep at this point. Damn it, he was right about you falling asleep the moment your head hits the pillows. But still you murmured, more like slurred, “Didn’t they also tell you to shave else your wife will have burns on her inner thighs?” 

Lando chuckled, rubbing his cheek against yours purposely again, “Okay fine, I’ll shave tomorrow. Happy?” 

“Hmm,” You mumbled, already drifting off to sleep. Safe in his arms as you’ll always be. “You better,” Lando chuckled at how you desperately tried to stay awake. “Otherwise I’m gonna run away.” 

With that you were gone. Your breathing changed so Lando knew you were surely asleep. Soon you’ll start snoring softly. He leaned down and kissed your forehead. 

“Silly baby,” He whispered as he adjusted the covers so you were properly warm. “You can’t run away from me,” He whispered against your forehead as he cuddled you, wrapping his arms tighter around you. “There’s a tracking implant in your arm.” 

Then he let out a soft chuckle. “Of course, you don’t know that, do you?” He cooed, “Hmm, baby?” He kissed your forehead again. “There’s so much you don’t know.” He caressed your cheek as you began snoring softly just as he expected. 

He had always found it adorable. He continued whispering to you, knowing you couldn’t hear him. “There’s so much I have to keep from you. I hate lying to you, but it’s for your own good, baby.” 

He kept caressing your face as he spoke to himself, “Like how you mistook me for your saviour that night.” He sighed then admitted, “I was the one who attacked your father’s house. I was the rival. Then I had my men search the house after everyone was dead, and they found you unconscious and brought you to me.” He let out another sigh, pulling you closer. “You were so beautiful, baby. Even with dried up tears on your face. You were the prettiest thing I’d ever seen. And I vowed to never make you cry after that night. It was the last time, I promise.” 

He paused. Then continued, “Your dad was such a pain in my ass, baby. I’m sorry I killed him. I’m sorry I killed all of them. I’m sorry I never told you the truth. How could I? You would hate me forever.” He placed a kiss on your nose, “But look,” He murmured, “All that shit brought you to me. And aren’t we happy together?” 

He let out another chuckle and said, “Wanna know another secret, pretty girl? I’m your anonymous collector. I have a warehouse full of the pieces you exhibit.” He confessed in the darkness and the silence. “I mean, what kind of a husband would I be if I don’t support my wife’s career, huh? Everything I do is to make you happy.” He leaned in to kiss your forehead again. “I love you so much, baby. It drives me insane.” Then he chuckled and added as an inside joke to himself, “Or maybe it did drive me insane already.”

[captainreecejames]

Just Friends || MV1 Oneshot

part of the my ex is a footballer series [masterlist] [my ex series masterlist] [max smau]

pairings max verstappen x reader with some ex!ben chilwell x reader in the smau part, danielle campbell is the faceclaim but reader is not described in this part so imagine however

word count 5.2k

warnings talks about depression, injuries and blood dealing with hands, hospitals and medical stuff, mentions of jos verstappen, cursing, angst and fluff, not proofread so probably shitty writing and mistakes

notes this took longer than I initially imagined because i was stuck on how to get it started, but after a good nights sleep and words of encouragement from @coff33andb00ks I got this puppy started. This fic includes Adrian Newey as the point red bull person so I could avoid horner and max as an almost dog dad because I'm a dog person. It starts in the middle of the 2022 season and goes through the 2023 season. If there is enough interest, I might continue to write these two together because I really enjoyed it and there is more to explore.

songs to listen to while reading you're losing me-taylor swift / so long, london-taylor swift / same mistakes-one direction / lose you to love me-selena gomez

You met Max on accident, according to you. When you talked to your father about it years later, you would learn it was no accident. 

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He was golfing with Adrian Newey and more coworkers but had forgotten his wallet, so he asked you to drop it off.

Now you knew he worked at Red Bull, so really it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that you would eventually meet Max Verstappen, but you walked into the country club expecting to meet some older man, not the reigning Formula 1 world champion. 

How'd Max know who to approach? Your father had shown him a picture of you so he would know who to look for. While you were searching the lobby, Max had come up to you, saying your name.

You had plenty of experience meeting famous people, even one’s who knew your name before meeting (perks of dating a football star) but it was still a shock. 

The meeting consisted of shy words and you fumbling around your bag for your father’s wallet and that’s it. No matter how much experience you had with famous athletes, it would still be weird meeting them. You wouldn’t see Max again for a few weeks, he was busy with races and staying in Monaco.

The next time would be at the base, once again you were dropping something off for your dad. This time it was lunch that he just insisted he needed, not whatever was being served in the cafe that day. 

You stood in the lobby, waiting for your father to get out of a meeting, admiring the trophies on display when Max came up to you. 

He will argue in the future that you admiring his trophies made him interested, and that he wasn’t over a little bragging if it got the attention of a pretty girl. That argument ignores the scheming that your father and Adrian had done, from complaining about your lack of interest in the sport to complaining about you needing to get out more. (Your lack of interest in the sport wasn’t true, just that you preferred Ferrari over the local team.)

So with the subliminal messaging from your father, Max was interested in you.

“I thought you didn’t really like the sport,” he said coming to stand at your side. 

You jumped slightly, not expecting anyone to approach you. “Why would you think that?”

“Your father.” You turn to him with a confused face and Max decided to clarify. “He talks about you a lot.”

“Oh, well, I wouldn’t listen to half of what he says.”

“Really? Even when he talks about the chassis?” His words are teasing and you think he’s flirting with you.

“Maybe that you can listen to.” You shrug, turning back to the cabinet. “He’s really just jealous that I prefer Ferrari.” 

Of fucking course, the Italian team. “A fan of Leclerc?” You can hear the bitterness in his voice and it shocks you a little how quickly he changes his mood.

“He’s okay,” you shrug again. Max thinks that your nonchalantness is annoying, why can’t you just admit you find Charles hot and move on.

(Hidden in the stairwell, Adrian and your father are a little nervous. They can tell that this isn’t going as well as hoped.)

“Schumacher has been my favorite, but I think of the current drivers its Vettel.” Now Max realizes that the two of you are standing in front of Sebastian’s 2010 championship trophy, and he feels a little embarrassed he didn’t realize sooner. “I’m a little bitter he didn’t win the championship with Ferrari.”

There are more “chance” meetings, but the conversation flows much easier now. Like the dinner at Adrian Newey’s house and after, when he has to give you a ride back to your new place because your parents don’t want to leave yet. Or the time when it’s suggested that you give him a ride to Luton airport because it’s on your way to London. Or even the holiday party at the end of the year where he has to give you a ride again because you’re tipsy and shouldn’t drive. 

It’s the airport drive when you both realize that you’re being set up by Adrian and your father, which causes a lot of awkwardness between the both of you during your goodbyes.

You go back home a few days later and scold your father for the set up. You don’t need another relationship right now, you tell him. He says he knows, but Max makes you happy in a way he hasn’t seen in years and that makes him happy. Your mother reminds him that you need to be happy without a man first and he says he’ll give up the endeavors to push you on to Max. If Adrian happens to come up with any more ideas that's not his fault, the man is a genius afterall.

The holiday party is more of an accident than anything, your father and mother leave much earlier than you, and so you are stuck with Max to drive you home.

He complained about the hotel he was staying at, so you offer him some time in your apartment to get away from fancy places and he takes you up on it. And now that you're home, it does’t seem like a bad idea to have another drink, just to take the edge off of having Max in your place. 

“Would you like another drink?” you offer while making your own gin and tonic. He stares around at the quiet kitchen, taking in the place that feels very you. “Or perhaps some tea?” He shakes his head no, eyes catching a picture of you hugging Ben. It’s an old picture, from when Leicester City won the league and you’ve only recently dug it out of the box it was sitting in. 

“I thought you were single,” he says, picking up the picture to examine it closer.

“I am,” you answer, turning around from the counter to look at him. You’re about to ask him where the question came from when you see what’s in his hands. “That’s from 2016, when Leicester City won the league.” Max nods like he understands, but he doesn’t.

“Who’s this?” he points to Ben.

“Ben Chilwell.” Maybe if you’re just vague enough, he’ll drop it. He doesn’t.

“Okay,” he draws it out. “Who is he to you?”

Not much of anything anymore, is what you want to say. You settle for something vague again. “A friend.”

“Looks like more than a friend.” Is Max trying to provoke you or something? He can tell you’re growing frustrated with him and it makes him feel guilty. “Sorry, I just, don’t know much about your life before here.”

You sigh, deciding that alcohol probably isn’t the best drink for now. You move to the kettle next to the stove, opting for tea to help calm you down. 

“Ben and I dated until a couple months ago, I moved back home right after we broke up.” He nods along with your story and you continue the tea making process. “Ben and I were childhood sweethearts, together since we were like 14 years old. So that makes,” it takes you a minute to do the math in your head, “12 years together.” You don’t turn to see what Max’s face looks like. A lot of people during your relationship with Ben were in awe of how long you were together, but there were some who thought it was silly and childish. Who stayed with someone they were dating since 14? (Apparently not you.)

You thought it was romantic up until a few months before the break up. Childhood sweethearts, best friends to lovers, boy next door, all tropes you loved in books and you were living it in real life! Until it wasn’t. Until you moved in the middle of a pandemic to a new city with no support system and became depressed. Until Ben needed support you and you couldn’t make yourself see that giving him everything was leaving you with nothing. 

It took an intervention from your parents to see that you were depressed, and an offhand comment about marriage from Ben to see that the relationship wouldn’t go anywhere new.

“What happened?”

“He didn’t want to marry me.”

><

“I’m just not sure I’m want to marry her, yet,” Ben says to the group. There’s a pause before he says yet, like someone made a face and he’s trying to placate them.

What the fuck? you want to ask. You want to scream it, really, because what the fuck does he mean by that? You’ve been together for over ten years, he’s said since Leicester that he only wants you, for the rest of his life. And now... now he doesn’t know? How the fuck do you not know? How can he not know? It makes you angry, the most emotion you’ve felt in probably months and it’s anger at your boyfriend.

Your grip on your glass is tightening, turning your knuckles white with the force and you worry the glass will shatter in your hand.

It does, but you don’t feel it. You don’t hear the glass shattering in your hand or on the floor, don't feel the splash of ice, gin, and tonic on your legs.

What you feel is something akin to clarity, because you’ve been living in a fog for months, probably the two years you’ve been in London and now you know how Ben feels. If he doesn’t want to marry you now, he probably won’t ever want it.

It takes your friend coming over and putting a hand on your shoulder for you to realize that something is physically wrong. That your hand is bleeding from glass cuts and you’re standing in a puddle of water and alcohol and some blood.

Emma says your name a little louder to grab your attention and now people are staring at you, wondering what’s caused the glass to shatter in your hand. She ignores them, pulling you across the room so she can take care of you.

Unfortunately, the glass is too deep and you have to be taken to an emergency room, where the nurses and doctors fuss over your hand. They ask you questions about how it happened, you explain that a glass shattered in your hands. They're suspicion is eased when Emma corroborates your story. It's soon after that you're allowed to go home.

All this time, Ben hasn’t come running into the room desperate to find you, and that reminds you why you’re here in the first place. Because Ben isn’t sure he wants to marry you.

><

“That’s how you got the scars on your hand?” Max is gentle when he takes your hand in his, holding it so delicately like you might break. You nod, but don’t pull away from him. His touch is soft and it makes you feel something you haven’t felt in a while. His hand turns so you can see the own scar on his hand. “I got this one from Jimmy, my cat.” He lets you run a finger over the scratch on the back of his hand. You run your hand over it one more time and Max get’s goosebumps from your touch.

You look up at him from your hands, your eyes roaming his face and seeing how sincere he is. It makes you nervous. 

You pull your hands back, stepping away to grab a mug for your tea and busy your hands with something besides his own.

Max can see you close off on him, but the story isn’t over yet. “What happened after the hospital?”

><

“Are you going to tell me why this happened?” Emma asks finally, walking with you out of the ED. She’s stayed the whole time, occasionally popping out to call your other friends and update them on the situation. 

It’s on the tip of your tongue to tell her, but you know what she’ll say: 'break up with him already, it’s not going anywhere and you’re obviously hurting over this. '

It’s not what you want to hear, you love Ben so much because you’ve always loved him, he’s all you’ve ever known and it used to be so good, so you know it can go back to being good.

It has to. You need it to. 

So you try to laugh it off, say that your grip is much stronger than you thought and that there must have been a hairline fracture in the glass.

But Emma doesn’t buy it. She lets you try to joke your way out of this, lets you laugh uncomfortably as she stares at you, and then pulls you to a halt at the corner. Your uneasy smile falls and you sigh. You know better than to try and hide this from her. 

“Ben said something,” it’s a whisper, like the quieter you say it makes it hurt less. She waits for you to continue, knowing that you’ll explain if she doesn’t push too hard. You take a deep breath, hoping that the air will do something, anything to make it easier to say out loud. “He’s not sure if he wants to marry me.” You hold the pause like he did, adding the yet in a pointed tone. With how much Ben has hurt you, you still want to spare him the criticism. You love him.

Emma immediately goes off, like you know she would, so you tune it out. It’s nothing you haven’t heard in the last year. 

The traffic light turns green, and you begin your walk back to the carpark, looking around the spaces to find your friend's car.

“YN!” another voice shouts. It’s Ben. 

He’s jogging to you across the lot, eyes a little wide like he’s been panicking for a while. “Why didn’t you grab me before leaving?” He means to direct the question to Emma, but he’s looking at you and you feel like he’s blaming you. “I was looking for you across the house until someone finally told me that you left for the emergency department. I was worried sick.” He looks it, you think. He does care. He wouldn’t look like that if he didn’t care. “You weren’t answering your phone, and-“ he cuts himself off as he stares at your hand. “What the hell happened?”

Oh- he doesn’t know. 

“She heard you,” Emma answers. You want to stop her, explain for yourself so you can just go home and sleep.

“What?” Ben asks, confusion across his face for a second before he realizes. You heard him. You heard him. “You weren’t meant to hear that.”

That’s his excuse?

“That’s your excuse?” Emma takes the words from of your mouth, but not the anger from your body, you clench your bandaged hand, wincing when it pulls at the stitches. Ben is still looking at you, but you’re unable to read him. “She wasn’t meant to fucking hear that?” Her voice is shrill and it grates on you because of a headache, but you know she means well. “You know what, fuck you Ben Chilwell! Go fucking rot in ditch!” With that she pulls you away from him, rushing the two of you towards her car so she can drive you to her home.

><

“That’s his excuse?” Max’s tone is just like Emma’s on that night and still you want to defend Ben. Your relationship is long over with the footballer, but that doesn’t mean you don’t love him. 

“I was a mess then,” you tell him, pouring your water into the cup, “I wouldn’t want to marry me either.”

“But he loved you, and you don’t say something like that about someone you love.” Max looks angry next to you, and that scares you even more. Not because of his anger, but because he clearly cares so much and you’re not sure if you deserve it. 

“Listen to me,” Max grabs your arms, pulling you to face him in your small kitchen. “Friends, boyfriends, people who love you-“ (Do his hands squeeze you harder on friends or boyfriends?) “They don’t talk about you like that behind your back. And also they notice when you’re gone, when you’re hurt, when you aren’t’ yourself.”

“But he was also hurting,” there are tears in your eyes from his words because you believe them, but also you still love Ben.

“And so were you, clearly. Yet you could tell something was wrong with him and he couldn’t see it in you?” Max has known you for only a few months, and has spent even less time physically with you, but he sees you and the way your brain works so clearly and that’s really scary. He must see something in your eyes because then he backs off, taking a step away to put distance between your bodies and space to breathe.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, “I didn’t mean to get so intense.” You shake your head, trying to put away the thoughts of his beautiful blue eyes staring into your own. “Just sometimes, I really want people to know that they deserve better.”

“No, it’s okay.” You pull the tea bag out of the water, looking down for the tiny plate to leave it on. “You’re not the first person to say that to me and you probably won’t be the last.” He nods, watching you spoon sugar into the tea. “But thank you for saying that, sometimes," you pause, "sometimes, it’s good to be reminded.”

><

Your friendship grows from there, but it doesn’t evolve into anything romantic. You’re clearly still healing from Ben and no matter how much he thinks about you while he’s in Monaco or off at a race, you need time.

So instead your flat becomes his base when he’s needed at the factory. He can leave clothes and toiletries at your place without worry, he can sneak a nice home cooked meal from you or your parents when he’s there, and he doesn’t have to deal with shitty hotel mattresses. (Even though it’s a Five Star hotel.)

He meets your friends when a girls night overlaps with some sim testing. They really like him and can see that his awkward charm has pulled you in.

You meet Danny Ric at the beginning of the 2023 season, when Red Bull decides to make him their reserve driver, and the two of you are like two peas in a pod. (On the plane back to Monaco Danny asks him when he’s finally going to ask you out.)

(Max shakes his head and tells him that you two are just friends, because that’s what you need. Just friends.)

Max invites you to the Monaco Grand Prix, but you decline, not interested in the media scrutiny that comes with that particular race. You say yes to the Spanish Grand Prix in Barcelona, but after he peaks at the invite list he tells you it’s probably not the best idea. You agree with him when you finally get him to tell you why you're uninvited. The Silverstone Grand Prix is during a girls trip, and with how busy it gets, you both drop the subject for a while. 

When Max clinches his third championship in Qatar you finally decide that you need to go to a race. The next one is in Texas, but it doesn’t work with your schedule so you get the passes for Mexico.

><

The Mexican Grand Prix is the perfect race to join. It’s Checo’s home race, so the focus is on him instead of Max. You stand to the back of the garage, hiding from view on Friday and Saturday. Occasionally you’ll talk with some engineers you’ve met before or share a few minutes with Adrian, but most of the time is in hiding Max’s drivers room with him. 

Most of Sunday is spent talking with the stars in the garage, explaining why you’re here and how you know people. You avoid any interviews with Sky Sports, knowing that somehow they’ll bring up Ben and Chelsea’s current run of form, something that you just can’t deal with. 

So you stay in the back of the garage, celebrate the podium in the back of the crowd and don’t wait up for Max to finish media duties, instead heading back to the hotel. It hurts to hide yourself away, you want to be the first to congratulate him on a win, or comfort him after a loss. But it’s for the best, you try convince yourself. You're just friends.

Max isn’t bitter about the decision at all. Being noticed at this race is a beacon to all fans that you are something to someone, and no matter how much he maybe wants that to be true, you’re just friends. Besides you have dinner with him and a few of the drivers and their own significant others, so really what more could he ask for?

After the season is over he’s back in Milton Keynes to finish up some things before heading out to start his holidays. Most of them will be spent with his family in Belgium or in Monaco, so he is determined to at least spend a day with you before leaving. He wasn’t planning on it being at a dog shelter.

><

“I think I want a dog,” you had told him while in Mexico. You’d spent a year alone in the flat (not counting Max practically moving in when he was needed at HQ) and things were too quiet for you. 

“Okay.” You were relaxing in his driver’s room before Free Practice 2. You’re both on the couch, him with an iPad going over some data and you with your feet up on his lap researching shelters on your phone. The domesticity of it all was frustrating.

“Are you allergic to dogs?” you ask. You know about Jimmy and Sassy back in Monaco, and he really doesn’t seem like dog person at all, but his opinion on this matters to you. His opinion on the most mundane and trivial things now matter to you. He doesn’t pay rent and so he doesn’t get the final say on anything, but if it makes life easier in Milton Keynes, you want to know what he thinks.

“No, I just prefer cats.” You nod, scrolling through the shelter’s website, looking at dogs and trying to decide which one looks like it needs love the most. “Lewis knows a lot about dogs, you can ask him about it.” It’s hard to get the sentence out, because Lewis having a say in something about your life just isn’t right. 

You shake your head no. “Lewis Hamilton doesn’t sleep in my spare bedroom.” It’s the same argument you make every time you suggest changing something in flat, and while it annoys him that you won’t take any money to pay for small stuff, it still makes him smile. 

“What do you think about this one?” you show him a picture of a Jack Russell Terrier, coincidentally named George. 

“If you get him you need to change his name.”

“Why?” You ask in fake offense. “I think he looks very much like a George.” But you move on anyway, terriers are too active for your lifestyle, you wouldn’t be able to give him the love he deserves. 

You keep on scrolling, feet still in his lap, him still looking through his iPad. You gasp suddenly, pushing yourself up and moving your legs so you can sit on them, much closer to Max. “Look!” you shove your screen in his face. “They just rescued a corgi with puppies! I love corgis!” He can see the excitement in your face and knows that he won’t ever say no to you if you look like that again. 

You pull your phone back, reading through the description quickly. “We are keeping Mama and puppies together for a few weeks to ensure health, puppies will be available for adoption in December. Please register interest.” You're pulling out your laptop to send an email when you're done.

Later that night, when you’re trying to sleep you admire how he let you rant about this dog that you’re getting. You love how he always indulges you on topics about your flat; you love that he’ll watch a shitty tv show with you and listen to you rant about the characters. You love that when you ask him questions about racing he answers with so much sincerity and interest that you can’t help but want to know more. You love so much about him that you think you might love him. 

No, you know you love him.

><

That’s how you got here, with Max at a shelter picking up a tiny corgi. Max has been carrying the collar and leash and necessary paperwork as you play with the small dog, contagious laughter falling from your lips.

“Think I should name him Charles, what do you think?” You look up from the ground, eyes so bright and happy. The smile on your face is teasing, but he misses the name because it hits him.

He’s in love with you.

He’s unable to answer you with his sudden realization, because the only words he can think of are “I love you” or long strings of curse words. 

You think he doesn’t like your joke and try to back track right away. “I’m kidding, obviously. I’m not gonna name him Charles.” Still Max only stares. “Is everything okay?” You stand up, still holding the puppy in your hands. “I promise I’m not going to name him Charles, but I’m sorry for the joke.” The puppy barks in your arms, snapping Max out of his trance. “What do you need, little one?” You ask the dog, momentarily forgetting Max’s presence. That’s what he needs, just a few seconds of you not looking at him to get his thoughts in line. He can’t be in love with you, because you don’t need a boyfriend. Just friends. 

Except he can be in love with you. Because you make him smile all the time, because you offered your spare bedroom to him so he didn’t have to deal with a shitty hotel mattress, because you send him pictures of cats you meet on the street, and let him over explain when you have questions about races. You deal with his mood swings when Jos contacts him. (It’s more than just dealing. You comfort and distract and do anything he needs.)

And maybe you do need just a friend still, but he can still love you.

It takes 20 minutes for you to finish up the paperwork for the shelter, which Max spends playing with the dog and he decides maybe he could be a your dog person. 

The ride back to your place is short, your minds replaying the same moment when you asked him what you should name the little puppy sleeping in the back. You feel bad, like you've insulted him; he’s trying to come up with a way to tell you what he’s realized.

Nothing happens that night, and nothing happens when he leaves for Monaco the next morning. 

Texts between the two of you comprise of pictures of Denny the corgi, Jimmy and Sassy the cats, and updates on how people liked their presents. It feels off, but you have no idea how to make it feel right.

On December 30th, you plan to catch your flight to Nice, but your father gets into an accident and you can’t leave your mom to deal with everything on your own. You say sorry to Max repeatedly, tell him to wish everyone there a Happy New Year and focus back on the quiet life with Denny. 

On December 31st, you wake up to the smell of coffee and toast. It’s alarming because no one else is here, so why does it smell like breakfast?

You push open the door cautiously, forgetting for a moment that Denny is there, so he sneaks out the tiny crack. “Denny! No!” you whisper-shout, hurrying after the little guy, all regard for your own safety lost. You find him in the arms of Max, licking his face and wiggling his butt with untamed excitement. “Max?”

“Hi, schatje.” His smile is almost enough to distract you from the fact that he is here. You approach the two slowly, grabbing Denny from his arms to put him down. 

“What are you doing here?” Denny paws at you, reminding you that he needs to go out and do his business. 

Max ignores your question, instead pushing a mug of coffee into your hands. “Take this, I’ll take Denny outside.” He grabs Denny from the floor again, making his way to the front where you have his leash hanging up. “Be right back, schatje.” You can only nod at him, watching the two walk out of the front door.

They’re back in two minutes, enough time for you to put out Denny’s breakfast and drink some of your coffee in peace, trying to wrap your mind around the fact that Max is here. The door opens and Denny comes rushing in, Max close behind. He hangs up the leash with his keys, then turns back to you with a smile.

Max takes his own mug, leaning his back against the counter to watch you. “Why are you here?” you ask again. 

“You said you couldn’t come to Monaco for New Year’s, so I thought I’d come here.” He says it so casually it irritates you. “Plus, I can take some work off of you or your mom when dealing with your Dad.”

Oh, he’s being sweet. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, but I want to help someone I love.” He says that so casually it catches you off guard. Thank god you didn’t have anything in your mouth or you would have definitely spit it out.

He smirks over his cup, watching you splutter for an answer to his simple confession. “You… you love me?” He nods then puts his mug down. A few steps over to you and he grabs the one in your hands, putting that down next to his own. With his other hand he moves to cup the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him. You want to ask what he’s doing, try to stop this before it can even start, but Max is determined. (You’re grateful for that.)

There’s almost no space left between the two of you, just enough really for him to be able to look at your face while he asks if this is okay. A gulp, a breath, and a nod later he’s dipping his head down to yours, closing the distance, and kissing you. 

Your eyes close instantly. Your hands travel to their own accord, reaching up to lock around his neck and keep him close. Your ears ring for some odd reason and your nose can only smell coffee. You can taste red bull on his lips and you wonder how long he's been up.

The kiss is soft and slow and over before you really have a chance to appreciate it.

You open your eyes to see him, his lips spread in a wide smile that has you blushing. “Been waiting to do that for a while.” That has you blush even deeper, but he doesn’t let you dip your head to hide it. “Seriously, schatje. I love you.”

“I love you too.” It’s a whisper, but he doesn’t miss it with how close you are. But even if he had missed it, you’ll say it so many more times in the future that people get sick of it.

[ceesimz]

Best of Both Worlds

Yes, the title is a Hannah Montana song, it fits perfectly. Also, for the sake of fiction, Leah did in fact play at Wembley, thank you!

Possibly the most long-awaited day of Leah's life; her national team return. It was one thing to play for The Arsenal again, but to represent her country whilst wearing the captain's armband at Wembley was an experience that simply couldn't be matched. And that's why it meant everything and more to her that you were in the stands with her family and her name on your back.

It wasn't the most aesthetically pleasing match ever, a 1-1 draw against Sweden, but Leah was back in her rightful place under her rightful role, and that was a win in itself. With each step on the pitch, your heart swelled with pride, knowing the mountain she'd climbed with her injury and how hard it had been mentally with each bump in the road, especially when she had to drop out of the last camp.

But here you were, seated in the same area of the stands her family had been when she had won the Euros, watching on in awe at how seamlessly she slipped back into the team. You had missed that fateful day back in 2022, having only met Leah five months after it at a New Year's Eve party, but with the affection Leah described that day with, you may as well have lived it for yourself. Now, having experienced your first game at Wembley since you hadn't gone to that game last year, you were beaming as you watched your girl command her national team around again.

Sure, you'd been to many a game of her's before, but there was something different about this one. There were obvious reasons of course, her injury and whatnot, but seeing her lead her team out to a stadium filled with the most people you'd ever seen her play in front of, a feeling settled in your chest that was unlike anything before. And when she was back in your arms at the end of the game, you would show her exactly how much you treasured her.

So, as she made her way around the stadium post-game, taking the time to applaud all the fans that had come along to watch and signing things for some, there was a smile of admiration on your face that her cousin beside you noticed. You blushed heavily at the teasing nudge she gave you with a smirk on her face.

"I suggest you wipe that cheesy, love-sick smile off your face before she comes over and bullies you for it." The woman next to you said, the pair of you laughing as you rolled your eyes, both all too familiar with her antics.

But the absence of said smile only lasted for about a minute, because then Leah was making her way over to the area of stands where you and her family was, and she had a down-turned smile on her face, the one she always did whilst trying to suppress her actual one. You were sat on the second row behind Leah's immediate family, so you stood back and waited for her to greet them all, also doing so as to not attract much fan attention. Leah made that hard though, because when her Mum pulled her into a bear hug, she indulged herself fully in it for about five seconds before her eyes flitted up to you and the corners of her mouth finally quirked up.

She jokingly pushed her Mum to the side so that she could reach out for you, and leaned up to hug you tightly. However, you pulled away after a few moments, and she made her disapproval very clear.

"What you doing that for?" She quizzed grumpily, looking utterly unimpressed up at you as some of her family members chuckled at her.

"The fans, Leah. We're at Wembley, think of all the videos." You whispered close to her ear, not quite intelligible for the others to hear.

"Who gives a toss, babe, I've hugged all my family here and you're no different." She responded, and she pulled you back in before you could complain. You wouldn't have complained anyway, because really who were you to deny your girlfriend's hug, your favourite in the world.

"Don't throw a strop later if there's about a million different angles of this." You teased, pinching her side where one of your hands rested around her.

"Doesn't matter, it's still you I get to go home with." She murmured before quickly pecking the spot under your ear and pulling back with one last squeeze. When she leaned back, she saw the light blush to your cheeks and smirked. "A year later and I've still got it."

You shoved her away lightly so that she could chat with the rest of her family before going off to do her post-match routine. Seeing her with her family, who she was so tight-knit with, was always a joy to see and you'd never get tired of seeing it. And as she jogged away back to the tunnel, her Mum turned to you and embraced you too.

"Thanks for coming, darling, it means a lot to her and to us too." She told you, rubbing a hand up and down your back. Praise and gratitude from her never got old either.

"Of course, I wouldn't have missed it for the world." You said back to her, to which she smiled and kissed your cheek.

You and the rest of the group made your way around to the family area inside the stadium to wait for her, making light conversation with them all to pass the time whilst Leah carried out media duties. It was fun and easy spending time with her family, because as a result of your girlfriend's relationship with them, you had grown almost as close with them too. Ever present at family dinners, birthdays, and events like christenings and weddings etc, now it was second nature for you to follow Leah to them. Within only a few months of being with Leah, every invite had your name on it too.

In the middle of your conversation with her cousins, talking excitedly about plans for the summer vacation later that year, you were interrupted as Leah finally appeared in her tracksuit with short wet blonde hair, a soft smile on her face. She spent a bit of time talking some more with her family, before bidding them farewell and wandering over to you.

"Home time?" You wondered, reaching a hand out to brush some of her hair back behind her shoulder.

You had, rather bravely, drove to the stadium today after Leah somehow secured you a reserved parking space, with the plan of driving yourself and Leah home your flat for the night before she travelled back up north to St. George's Park with the team tomorrow.

"God, yes." She sighed, and you smiled up at her.

"Let's go then." You took the hand she offered after pulling up her hood and let her lead the way out of the stadium.

Arriving at your car, with a few curious stares from fans to see if the hooded figure beside you was who they thought it was, you helped her lift her things into the boot of your car before the pair of you clambered in.

For the time it took to drive home, you caught up with her as it had been a few days since you had seen each other whilst she had been at camp. You, ever the safe driver, weren't one to hold your girlfriend's hands whilst on the road, always with two hands on the wheel at all times. Leah teased you of course, her and her English humour never falling to banter you everytime she could, but nevertheless when she was feeling a little clingy her hand would rest on your thigh as you drove, or it would massage and stroke the back of your neck as her arm leaned on your seat's headrest.

Today was a case of her resting a hand mindlessly on your thigh, something you would smile at constantly and glance down at the sight every chance you could get. She didn't notice though, busy talking and too tired to realise. Adjusting back to playing 90 minutes was something she was still in the middle of, not that she couldn't handle them because she obviously can, it's just the tiredness afterwards was something she hadn't experienced in a while of playing professionally.

That meant you weren't exactly surprised when she flopped down immediately on your sofa when you got home, not even bothering to drop her bags off in your room.

"Want some food, love?" You offered, pushing her bags to the side of the hallway so that they weren't a tripping hazard before leaning against the doorway of your lounge.

"You don't have to cook, we can just order a Nando's or something." Leah yawned, rubbing her eyes.

"Well, I thought ahead." You smiled at her, giggling at the tired and confused expression she silently responds with. "I meal-planned for you. I can heat up a plate of that Carribbean chicken and rice and veg if you want."

She gazed at you for a few moments before her head dropped back against the pillows with a groan.

"If I had a ring right now, I'd ask to marry you."

With a laugh, you took that as a yes and headed to the kitchen to do exactly as you said. As you were gone, the blonde put Netflix on the TV and chose the sitcom you had been watching together before pausing the episode to wait for you. She sat up with a groan and slumped back heavily, going onto her phone to reply to some friends and family.

Not so long later, you walked back in with Leah's food, handing it to her before sitting down beside her. Plate and fork in hand, she twisted her body to lean her back against your shoulder and happily tucked into her meal as you pressed play on the TV.

"Thanks for this, babe, I'm really grateful." She muttered as she ate, to which you smiled and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"It's no problem, Le. I made a plate for myself too but I had a hot dog at half-time so I'm not hungry." You revealed, giggling as Leah chuckled.

"I know it's just a plate of food but... I don't know, means a lot to me that you thought about this." With a light blush, you shrugged nonchalantly and kissed the side of her head.

"I would say I know you'd do the same for me, but everybody knows you can't cook." You jested, grinning when she grumbled under her breath.

"I was only being nice, but alright." She huffed, but you only held her tighter against you.

"I'm kidding. I just love you, s'all. Wanna take care of you, especially after the last year and especially because I know you're a bit of a bottomless pit after a game." You say, and she hums in agreement. "If I'd have known my chicken was so good, it inspired thoughts of marriage, I'd have made it more often."

"I could never say no to that."

You both fell silent at that, more than content to enjoy each other's company with the show on in the background. Spending time with you after a game, just relaxing together, was fastly becoming Leah's favourite tradition. Going to dinners with friends or partying were great, but not much could beat this. Great food with even better company, in the arms of her girlfriend, Leah was finally at peace with the silence she had to greet after a game that was anything but.

That was something not many people would guess was a struggle in women's football. Going from playing in tiny stadiums to bigger venues but hardly any fans, to then playing in sold-out game after sold-out game for both club and country, that was her dream. What she wasn't expecting was the mental challenge that came with it. Spending well over 90 minutes in a booming stadium with fans that never ceased their chants was astounding to her, but the silence that met her when she would go home to a quiet and empty apartment was difficult.

She had worked on dealing with it better since the Euros where it had really picked up, but there was one thing that made it so much easier every time without fail. And that was you.

"You know I do plan to marry you, right?" Leah piped up out of nowhere sometime later, her plate long discarded to the coffee table as your positions on the couch remained the same. At her out-of-the-blue question that took your breath away a little, you cleared your throat and nodded though she couldn't see you.

"Yeah."

"Because I do want to marry you one day. I've known that from early on, I actually know the exact moment I thought that."

"Do tell, my love." You smiled, never one to pass up on a chance to hear just how and when Leah had fallen for you.

"The second time we saw each other after the New Year's party, when you started teasing me for not kissing you again after that night."

Much to Alex's dismay, the night of that party yourself and Leah had spent pretty much all of it talking about everything and nothing, compelled by a desire to get to know each other. That was until the blonde's intake of Dutch courage lived up to its name as she kissed you a little more than what could be described as friendly once the clock struck midnight. And when the night ended, no matter how much you didn't want to leave, you both shared a taxi to your respective apartments and exchanged details. It wasn't long before you saw her again though, in fact you saw her twice in the two weeks that followed, but the defender had been a little too embarrassed at her eager act a few weeks prior to kiss you again. But when you teased her one too many times about it, on the third 'date', she huffed before firmly yet delicately gripping your face and finally kissing you again.

"I spoke to Wally after our second date and she called me crazy for knowing I'd marry you when I didn't even have the balls to kiss you again." You laughed loudly at that, a notion Leah soon joined in with as she knew her past-self had acted in a ridiculous and shy way. "But that's the truth, babe. I knew I had to have you, and what better way to show that than snogging the life out of you on a random bench in London."

"Ew, Leah! Why describe it like that? I thought it was such a sweet moment, but you've just described it like we were two horny teenagers." She grimaced at the point you made, regretting it already.

"My bad. It was sweet. If not a bit... desperate." She snickered, grinning when you swatted her shoulder. "So, would you marry me then?"

"Wow. If this conversation couldn't get any less romantic, I think you've just put the nail in the coffin." Leah scoffed and sat up, fixing you with a disapproving look.

"That wasn't my actual proposal, you knob. I just wanna know if you'd say yes when I did eventually ask. Properly, that is." The defender asked with a shy smile, and you couldn't help but giggle at her face, doing so more when she frowned in confusion.

"Yes, I would accept your proposal. As long as it's with a nice ring and a better speech." You answered to put her out of her misery. She lets out a relieved sigh but smiling again.

"Noted."

With that, she stood up, now your turn to be confused. Squealing as she lifted you up bridal style, you laughed when she lay you down on your back length-ways across the sofa. Then, she kneeled against the cushions under your knees and carefully laid on top of you, her head resting against your stomach. Her hands came up to slide under your back and she sighed contently.

"Comfy?" You asked with a smile, your own hands settling on the back of her head.

"So comfy." She hummed, eyes closed as she faced away from the TV.

"If you're gonna fall asleep, Le, we may as well go to bed."

"No." She grunted. "I won't fall asleep. I just want to lay here for a bit."

"Alright." You conceded, your attention fully lost from the TV and instead on the girl draped over you.

You admired the slight view of her face available to you, your hands combing delicately through her almost dried hair as the only sounds shared between you were the calm and quiet breaths you both let out. A few minutes passed by and you thought she had gone to sleep, but she proved you wrong.

"This is my dream, you know."

"What is?" You asked her, moving one of your hands to rest on the side of your face and stroking her skin there with your thumb.

"Going home from a game to someone I love. Who I can fully switch off with." The small explanation had you beaming, beyond happy to hear how special you were to her.

"Well, I'm glad I can help, my love." You replied, a sheepishly proud smile on your face.

"I used to find it hard, y'know... our football blew up in popularity during the Euros, and I struggled with it more than I expected." You hummed curiously, not wanting to disrupt her train of thought but letting her know you wanted her to continue. "Going from being surrounded by up to ninety thousand people, singing and chanting and cheering non-stop, to just... nothing when I got home. Just a cold, empty, silent apartment. The contrast of it troubled me a lot. I worked through it with a psychologist and coped with it better, but it was never perfect."

She paused, adjusting her position so that her hands came to rest under her chin as she looked up at you, that same down-turned smile from earlier returning. Your hands fell to clasp behind her neck, waiting for her to elaborate.

"Then you came around, and now that anxiety doesn't even phase me anymore."

Now, if that wasn't the most heart-warming thing your girlfriend had said so far, you weren't sure what was.

"That makes me so happy, Leah." You whispered, cupping her cheeks with your hands and smiling softly at her.

"One of my favourite things about our relationship is how easy it is for me to switch from Leah Williamson the footballer, to just Leah when I'm around you. Makes coming home after a game much easier."

Shaking your head, you took her hands and urged her to move further up your body so that her head rested against your chest. Wrapping your arms around her, you squeezed her tightly, desperate to convey your love to her in a way words couldn't explain.

"I'll happily welcome 'Just Leah' home all the time."

"Now you're ruining the moment."

[feralgirlfeelings]

★ what kind of music each love & deepspace boy would listen to! ★

hcs of zayne, rafayel, and xavier's music taste ♫꒰･◡･๑꒱

pairing: lnds boys x reader

warnings: none

zayne:

he listens to classical music 90% of the time. it's not because he particularly likes it, but he just got used it after listening to classical music to focus while studying 12 hours a day as a med student. now, in pavlovian fashion, he'll play it while performing surgeries to really get him in the zone. the other 10% is, surprisingly, cutesy kpop girl group songs. think "russian roulette" by red velvet, "magnetic" by illit, and "only" by leehi. he doesn't go out of his way to find these songs, but he'll hear them in passing and get one stuck in his head. he's one of those people that'll get hooked and listen to a song over and over again, especially while he's working out or when he needs an energy boost. he's embarrassed about it, so he'll try to hide it from you, only listening to music with his earbuds in. but there's been times where you catch him:

"zayne, i didn't know you were into red velvet," you stifle a giggle. you hold his phone up to him, the song "russian roulette" on the lock screen. he crosses his arms, ears turning pink, "what's so funny about that? ...it's catchy." "nothing! i just didn't expect that from you," you laugh. you hand him his phone back, "i can teach you the dance, i know it by heart," you tease. "hmm," he raises an eyebrow, an amused look on his face. "i'd like to see that."

xavier:

he likes a few different genres of music, but he tends to like classic rock and alternative the most. some of his favourite songs are "little dark age" by mgmt, "eyes without a face" by billy idol, and "let it happen" by tame impala. he doesn't like to explore new music often and will usually just stick to what he already likes. he'll often blast music through his through his earbuds when he's fighting wanderers alone or when he's trying to stay awake. he's had a lot of time on earth, so his taste spans a lot of different music eras. there's been a few times when he's complained about how he "just doesn't get music nowadays." sometimes he'll show you a super old song and be surprised that you've never heard of it before:

xavier hands you an earbud, the other one in his ear. he shows you a song on his phone that you don't recognize. after a few seconds of listening, you shake your head, "i don't know this one." "really?" xavier looks at you shocked. "this song was huge in the 80s." you hand him back his earbud, "see that's why i don't know it, i'm not 40," you tease. "they just don't make music like this anymore," he sighs. you laugh, "xavier, that makes you sounds so old!' he smiles back at you, "i think those songs are just timeless."

rafayel:

he's into artsy stuff. he's one of those people who listens to a song or album multiples times to dissect and analyze every part of it, appreciating it as an art form. some of his favourite songs include "my love mine all mine" and "washing machine heart" by mitski, as well as "movement" by hozier. he plays music while working on paintings, because apparently, "listening to complex music helps with the artistic process." he also experiences sound-to-colour synesthesia, which explains why the music helps him paint. he has a really pretty singing voice and will often hum or sing his favourite songs, but will get shy when you ask him to sing for you. despite his usual pretentious music taste, he'll occasionally get hooked on some generic top 40s song, like something by drake.

rafayel had been humming the same song over and over again while working on a painting of you. you couldn't help but close your eyes and focus on the melody, "what song is that?" you ask. he pauses from humming, his concentration on his painting unwavering, "my love mine all mine by mitski." "it's nice, i've never heard of it before," you reply. "i'm not surprised, i have spectacular taste, you know," he boasts. you stare at him blankly, "wasn't your top song last year passionfruit?" holding back a laugh. his ears and cheeks turn bright red, "those are never accurate anyways."

[slut4thebroken]

“Childhood Enemies Turned Lovers?” - part 2

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Robert Fischer × reader

Summary | Robert punishes you for almost messing up the next date.

Warnings | Smut, semi public sex, degradation, humiliation, praise, dry humping, orgasm delay/denial, vaginal fingering, sir + daddy kink lol, more slut shaming but in a hot way.

Words | 3k

Notes | Enjoy some smut before things get super angsty :)

Ao3 link | <3

Fic Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Part 1

There was some speculation that this was all so sudden and obviously fake, so they waited two weeks before staging another date. 

This time, you went out during the evening. The PR team thought it might be a good idea to kill two birds with one stone and stage a fake date, as well as start to fix your reputation. Your father was reluctant to agree, but— obviously— trusted Robert more than you to keep you in check. Which is how you found yourself at a nightclub. His attire was slightly more relaxed than normal; he left the tie and suit jacket at home, and opted for a darker colored suit, leaving the top button undone. You were practically fucking salivating just looking at him. Especially when he complained about how hot it was and started rolling his sleeves up. 

You on the other hand we’re told to dress for the occasion, but more modest than what you’d normally wear. They even had you send a picture of you in the dress to confirm, which you thought was a little overkill. What sluttiness you lacked in the dress though, you made up for with the heels. They were tall and strappy and Robert told you he’s not helping you if your feet start to hurt, which you thought was cute. You’ve been wearing heels like this for years now and even if your feet do start to hurt, you’ll just take them off. 

You both ordered drinks and after a while you suggested he dance with you, but he refused. So you went alone. As you were dancing among the other flushed, barely covered bodies, you realized that this is probably the first time you’ve gone to a club and not been able to go home with someone. Not that it wasn’t frowned upon before, but now it’s strictly off limits. 

When the first pair of hands grabbed your hips, you reluctantly batted them away and were severely disappointed to find out how hot he was when you turned around. After two song changes, you were approached again. 

“Can I dance with you?” A woman asked— it was so refreshing being treated like a person sometimes— and you bit your lip, thinking. You looked over at Robert who was looking at his phone. Technically you’re supposed to be photographed leaving the club, so no one should find out. And if they do… people are homophobic enough to believe that this was platonic. 

You nodded and she smiled. She grabbed your hips and pulled you closer and you were suddenly engulfed in her intoxicating scent— something vanilla-y. You gasped when she suddenly turned you around and pressed her front flush with your back. Even with your heels she was still taller than you. You danced lazily for a while, letting your head fall back on her shoulder as you closed your eyes, choosing to get lost in the moment. But of course it was interrupted. 

Robert called you name loudly from in front of you, trying to get you to hear it over the music, and you lifted your head to look at him. 

“What?” His expression was pretty neutral and you tried to hear him, but you could only make out a few words. “What?” You yelled, trying to convey that you couldn’t understand. He just rolled his eyes and grabbed your wrist, pulling you from the dance floor. He stopped in the hallway, but the volume level was the same because of how small the club was, so he pushed open the bathroom door and practically dragged you inside, then locked it. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” You spat, wrenching your arm free from his grasp. 

“You know you shouldn’t be doing that. Anyone could see.” You huffed and crossed your arms over your chest. 

“What are you, my daddy? You don’t tell me what to do.” You sneered. 

“I do when it concerns people other than yourself. This isn’t about you, so grow up.” You scoffed and looked away from him. “I think you’re forgetting that we’re in the same boat. But I’m not risking fucking everything up because I’m horny.” 

“Screw. You.” You spat, pushing at his chest. 

“Oh so that is it, then? You don’t get fucked for a few weeks and you just turn into an insatiable little whore? No matter the consequences?” You wanted to deny it, but the arousal building in your stomach from his words and tone was unmistakable. You clenched your jaw and looked away, prompting him to grab your cheeks in one hand and turn you back to him. Despite the ferocity of his gaze, he kept his grip light. 

“If you need to be fucked so bad, buy a dildo. Or if the issue is you’re too much of a pillow princess to do it yourself, buy a machine— god knows you can afford it.” Your cheeks heated up under his hand and you did your best to steady your breathing. “See how many options you have that don’t end with you screwing everything up?” He cooed mockingly and you closed your eyes, swallowing down a whimper. 

“What, now you finally shut up?” He scoffed and you couldn’t hold the sound in any longer. 

“Robert…” You whined, pressing your thighs together. He let out a dark chuckle and you shivered in response. 

“So fucking pathetic.” The sweet tone almost fooled you. “You’re really desperate enough that you’ll take it from me?” He scoffed a laugh, making your blush burn darker. His hand suddenly fisted your hair, then yanked your head back, forcing a startled moan out of you. “Answer me.” He growled. 

“Fuck— Robert, please.” You whimpered, squeezing your thighs together even harder. The second he noticed, he was forcing a leg between your own, pressing this thigh against your heat, making you mewl and grab at his shirt. 

“Show me how desperate you are. Show me how much this little pussy needs to be filled.” He said quietly. You nodded with a whimper and started rocking your hips, pushing your clit against his thigh, as you started panting. “That’s it, good girl.” He cooed and you let out a choked moan in response. He looked down to watch you grind on him, but suddenly pulled away when he saw the dark patch on his pants. 

“Fuck— These cost more than your fucking phone.” He huffed and you would’ve made fun of him if you weren’t so damn needy. “Get on the floor.” You looked around the bathroom and whined, not wanting to kneel on the floor of a public bathroom. “Kneel or we’ll go back out there and finish our drinks.” He warned, so you tentatively dropped to the floor. 

“There you go.” He cooed, petting your hair. “Grind on my shoe.” 

“What?” You choked out, now infinitely more embarrassed than a few seconds ago. 

“Unless you’d rather leave?” 

“No! No—” You clutched onto his pant leg, not letting him make good on his threat. 

“Then stop wasting my time.” With a whine, you looked down at his shoe, tentatively shuffling forward. You looked up at him one last time before lowering yourself onto the smooth leather. The friction was less than his pants, but the stimulation still had you panting and whining regardless. 

“You look good on your knees.” He said with a smirk, making you blush. “Can’t believe I have to let you hump my shoe like a bitch in heat just to keep you from fucking all of this up.” He muttered and you let out a low, embarrassed whine. 

“Robert,” You whimpered, needing more. You wrapped your arms around his leg and leaned your chin on his thigh as you looked up at him. He cursed under this breath and bit his lip. “Please.” 

“This not enough for you, princess? Need more?” You nodded with a pout, wanting his fingers, his mouth, his cock— anything. “That really is too bad, isn’t it?” He cooed empathetically, making you have to repeat his words in your head before you realized that what he said was actually a bad thing. “I can’t believe I have to marry a pathetic little slut. Are you going to be like this until the divorce? Humping any part of me, every chance you get?” 

“Robert…” You whined, eyes watering with tears of desperation and humiliation. “Fuck— please.” You both froze when his phone started ringing. 

“Take off your underwear.” He said quickly, then, when you didn’t move fast enough, “Now.” You scrambled to remove them and place them in his hand, then he was shoving them in your mouth before you even registered what was happening. “Continue. You don’t want me to tell you again.” He warned before answering the call. 

You tentatively wrapped your arms around his leg again and picked up where you left off, but with a little less enthusiasm this time, not wanting to be too loud. Based on his tone and how much he was talking, it seemed like an important call. Which confused you even more on why he’d want you to keep going. 

His free hand suddenly gripped your hair, then wrenched your head back, and you couldn’t stifle the startled moan in time. You looked up at him with wide, fearful eyes, worried you had upset him because of that. 

“Do better.” He whispered, barely audible. You nodded and he released you, letting you bring your head back down to a more comfortable position. You started moving faster, grinding down harder. Too embarrassed to keep looking at him, you turned your head and rested your cheek on his thigh, but your breath caught in your throat when you finally noticed the bulge in his pants. You tentatively brought one hand up, but before you could touch him, he roughly grabbed your wrist to stop you. So you wrapped your arm back around his leg and kept going, staring at his crotch almost longingly. 

“You saw that, did you?” He cringed and the sudden change of tone caught your attention. “Yeah I know our history has been… rocky at best.” He paused as the person on the phone presumably cut him off. 

“Has she fucked me yet?” He chuckled, making you whine and bury your face into his thigh more. “No, not yet… I know— I was just as surprised.” You whined and pulled back to stare up at him, silently pleading with him to end this humiliation and just give you what you need. His eyes bored into yours as he pet your head, making you mewl and grind down harder. 

“Yeah… She’s actually.. less of a bitch than I thought— I know. Don’t get me wrong, she has her moments,” He cut off again and waited a few seconds, then chuckled under his breath. 

“Get up.” He mouthed to you and you stood on shaky legs, holding onto him for balance. He guided you over to the counter and bent you over it, making you gasp at the feeling of the cold marble pressed to your flushed skin. When he pushed your dress up enough to expose your ass, you whined and buried your head in your arms, making him grab your hair to lift you back up. “Eyes on me.” He whispered. You nodded tentatively, then he went back to the task at hand. 

“Oh yeah. Spoiled too— and she acts like it.” He placed a hand on your ass and pulled it to the side for a better view of your drooling hole. “I know, I know. But you’ve seen some of those photos that circled around a few years back,” He suddenly pushed two fingers inside you and you jolted forward with a strangled moan. 

“Yeah I’m actually out with her now, she’s in the bathroom. You should see the fucking dress she’s wearing.” He curled his fingers against your walls slowly, making you whine and push your hips back. When he chuckled quietly, you stared at him through the mirror with furrowed brows and he hummed in agreement to whatever the person on the phone just said. “Exactly as you’re picturing it— her tits are practically out.” You glanced down at your chest through the mirror, finding his statement correct— your breasts were spilling out of your dress in this position. 

“And alcohol makes her so fucking needy apparently. She’s been all over me since we got here.” His fingers suddenly hit a spot inside of you that had your knees buckling as you whimpered, holding onto the counter. “Hang on, she’s coming. I’ll call you tomorrow?” His choice of words was not lost on you and he wasn’t even wrong— your orgasm was rapidly approaching. “No, I’m not going to send you pictures.” He scoffed a laugh and you whined quietly, your whole face heating up at the thought. 

“You did a.. surprisingly good job staying quiet.” He commented, putting his phone back in his pocket. “You ready to come now?” He cooed and you nodded desperately. “Yeah? Did listening to me talk about you like that make you even needier?” You whined and averted your gaze, but made sure to keep your head up. 

“Of course it fucking did.” He scoffed, quickly removing his fingers, making you whimper. He turned you around fast enough to make your head spin, then lifted you onto the counter and roughly shoved his fingers back in, working much more enthusiastically than before. You placed one hand on the counter behind you and the other to his shoulder to ground yourself. When he removed your panties from your mouth and placed a hand on your neck, you let out a loud moan, making him tighten his grip to cut off the sound. The action was sending you barreling toward your orgasm now and since you were able to beg again, you did exactly that. 

“Fuck— please... Sir, please let me come.” You gasped out, getting closer and closer. 

“Sir?” He smirked, making you blush. 

“Please make me come, I need it.” You whined loudly and his grip on your neck tightened even more as he forced a third finger inside you. 

“Fuck you’re wet.” He spat, almost disgusted. “Can you hear that, princess? You hear how messy your pathetic little cunt is?” He cooed and you sobbed out a moan. 

“Please! Please make me come,” 

“Yeah? You’re ready?” He asked as he tilted his head, and you nodded eagerly, panting and closing your eyes to focus on the feeling. When he suddenly pulled his fingers out, your body flinched forward and you cried out, making him push you back by your neck, pressing on your windpipe a little to silence you. 

“Please! I was so close!” You sobbed, clinging to his shoulder as your eyes filled with tears. 

“Whenever you think about misbehaving, I want you to remember this. If you start acting like a good little girl, then maybe next time I’ll make you come.” You let out another choked sob, on the verge of crying from desperation now. 

“No— Sir, please…” You cried. He shushed you softly and you whimpered in response, letting your eyes flutter shut. 

“I know. You’ll be okay.” He cooed, but you were pretty sure he was mocking you. When a tear finally escaped your waterline and slid down your cheek, he cursed under his breath and moved his hand from your neck to gently wipe it away. You had one last thing that you thought could work. 

“Please-” You whimpered pathetically, looking up at him with wide, glossy eyes, “please, daddy.” You were so grateful when another tear fell just as you finished talking. 

“I thought you said I’m not your daddy.” He smirked, making you whine and give him your best puppy dog eyes. “You’re going to be severely disappointed if you think calling me daddy and giving me those ‘fuck me’ eyes will do anything.” He said teasingly. You frowned in response and he gave you a sympathetic smile. “I know, princess. I’m sure you’re not used to being denied, but if you behave and listen to me, I can give it to you.” He brushed your hair behind your ear, then cupped your cheek. “Can you do that for me?” He whispered and you nodded hesitantly. 

“Good girl.” He chuckled when you let out another whimper. “Listen to me very carefully, okay? When you get home tonight, you’re not going to get yourself off. You’re going to be a good girl and get ready for bed, then go to sleep. Trust that I’ll know if you disobey me and that the consequences will be much worse than just this. Do you understand?” You pouted and looked away from him, trying to stop crying. When you let out a quiet, “yes” he gave you a proud smile. 

“You’re such a good girl, aren’t you? Just need to be put in your place.” His gaze dragged over your face with an emotion you couldn’t quite decipher. He gave you a small smile, then stepped back, pocketing your underwear. 

“Fix your makeup and hair before you leave. I’ll be waiting by the front door, okay?” You nodded dumbly, barely registering his words. He unlocked the door and walked out, leaving you there to catch your breath and get rid of the floaty feeling in your head. You hopped down from the counter on shaky legs and adjusted your dress before smoothing out your hair and wiping away the smudged mascara from under your eyes. Once you looked… slightly more presentable, you walked out and found him standing by the entrance to the club, waiting. 

“You still look like you just got fucked.” He chuckled, making you blush. 

“There’s not much else I can do about that.” You huffed, still feeling bratty from being denied. 

“Okay, just—” He brushed your hair back and wiped under your eyes some more, then sighed. “Try to keep your head down I guess.” He opened the door for you and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you into his body. 

You kept your head slightly angled toward the floor and did your best not to trip in your heels but the alcohol and horniness were making it pretty hard. The paparazzi were right outside unfortunately, but there were only two of them, so it wasn’t that bad. His car was already waiting— he must’ve texted while you were still in the bathroom— and he opened the door for you, letting go of your waist to let you slide inside. 

Part 3

(ik It’s cut kinda awkwardly lol but this is technically just a really long one shot. Also very much sad in the next part so get ready for that lmaoo)

Taglist (join here)

@pedrisgatorade @lunyyx @faebirdie @cillianscrybaby @ceruleanrainblues @brooklynscherry-z @d1lf-loverthinqs @butlersluvbot @mandowhatnow @baekhyunstruly @halleysc6met @babaohhhriley (y’all were tagged in part one which I posted before updating my taglist system. Lmk if you want to be removed otherwise I’m going to add you to the google doc for this fic)

[miumura]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 — TEN THINGS I HATE ; JAY FIC

“ I’ll do better, if you stay with me like this. ”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ where jay keeps a journal where he documents all the reasons he hates you, his rival. despite claiming he will forever hate you, keeping this journal only makes him realize his feelings for you.

PAIRING rival!jay x gn!reader

GENRE angst, fluff — WARNINGS jealousy ; overthinking !

WORD COUNT 1.7K+ (1730)

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ soph strikes again!! angst cb, did we cheer?? anyways i was in the feels okay 😢 listening to music while writing really unlocks something in ur brain im telling you…idk what really went thru my mind when making this but enjoy 😊🫶

#1 – HOW YOU’RE GOOD AT EVERYTHING.

Is it normal to have a journal dedicated to someone you hate? Whatever, I just need to get this off my chest. Whenever you’re involved, it’s like I could have nothing I want. It’s stupid, but I don’t care, it just pisses me off when you easily follow instructions, perfect things on your first try, and get all the awards I wish to have. I admit, jealousy consumes me. It's frustrating how effortlessly you seem to achieve anything you want without even trying. Seeing your achievements plastered all over the school only intensifies my anger, making me wish I could tear your posters into shreds. I've never despised second place more than now. Why can't I find contentment with my own scores or position, just like you? How can I remove you from my life and find peace within myself?

#2 – HOW CHEERFUL YOU ARE.

How is it possible for someone to remain so happy throughout the entire day? I can't help but wonder if you possess some magical influence over my friends, as they seem to shower you with compliments non-stop. It's weird to hear nothing but praise for you while I find myself complaining about various things. It's almost as if nobody comprehends why I harbor such animosity towards you, and this frustrates me immensely. Every time I express my emotions, they tell me to laugh and smile more, as if I don't already do it enough. But then, when I contemplate your cheerful and positive demeanor, it becomes clear why they encourage it. You're like the epitome of a model student everyone aspires to be, while I remain the perpetually angry and stubborn person. No wonder everyone wants to spend time with you, and perhaps that's one thing I can agree with others on.

#3 – YOU LIKE THINGS THAT I LIKE.

It's almost like a curse that we share the same interests. It's the reason I keep encountering you everywhere. Whatever I do, you seem to be there, expressing your fondness for the same things with your friends. It's frustrating, and I can't help but roll my eyes at the thought of encountering you even more. Even listening to music has become a challenge, as I know you like the same artists. I purposely skip their songs because they only remind me of you, and I hate being consumed by thoughts of you. I yearn to stop learning more about you so that I can enjoy the things I like in peace, without these constant reminders of you.

#4 – YOU MAKE ME OVERTHINK.

Maybe because of how perfect you seem to be in other’s eyes, I wonder how I look in other people’s eyes too. Am I that awful to hang out with? Am I always seen as this angry person who hates everyone? I’m not that, I know that–my friends do as well. But others? I’m not so sure about that. What confuses me even more is why you persist in wanting to spend time with me despite any perceived flaws or stubbornness on my part. You could easily choose to be with other people who might seem better to converse with. Yet, you continue to stick around, refusing to give up on our “friendship”. And because of this, I can see how others might form a negative opinion about me. My constant push to keep you away could be misunderstood, leading people to believe I'm simply a horrible person.

#5 – YOU LIKE ME.

I'm not sure if you have romantic feelings for me, but I can tell that you consider me a friend. It's interesting because I hadn't thought of you in that way before, but it doesn't seem to bother you. Today, you stood up for me, and it felt really heartening. Normally, I might have felt angry or vulnerable when someone defends me, but this time it was different. I don’t know, it just did feel really nice. Your quick response in telling those people to stop was captivating, even though I didn't express my gratitude at the moment. Lately, I've been struggling with the loud voices in my head, and sometimes I wonder if you could help quiet them too. But now, I'm not sure what I'm trying to convey. You confuse me a lot.

#6 – YOU GIVE THE WRONG PEOPLE SECOND CHANCES.

The other day, I saw you in tears because someone had broken your heart. I must admit, I was taken aback because I had never seen you sad or upset before. It was quite a contrast to the cheerful version of yourself that I'm familiar with. What happened to you that everyone sees all the time? I hope you had someone to tell you your problems too, as it’s not easy for someone who is your rival to be comforting you. I didn’t, so I hope you went home that night filled with less worries because you have someone to talk with.

What surprised me even more was that the very next day, you gave the person who hurt you a second chance. I can't help but wonder why you keep allowing people to hurt you when it's likely they'll repeat the same behavior, ultimately affecting your radiant smile. Stop going back to the people that hurt you once, it’s only going to be a cycle. I wish I could share these thoughts with you, but I hesitate because I doubt you'd take them to heart coming from someone like me. However, I can't help caring despite my own imperfections. It's puzzling to me as well, as you make me feel oddly connected to your feelings.

#7 – SEEING YOUR TEARS.

I never imagined how much I could despise seeing someone cry until the moment I witnessed your tears. Ever since that day, I always thought about it, so how could I let it slip out of my mind this time? I’m sorry for yelling at you today. I’m sorry for saying I hate you. I didn’t mean it, I was just extremely frustrated today, and not at you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I know how saying this won’t do anything, but I truly mean it. I wish I could rewind time once I saw water fill up in your eyes, but what’s done is done. You made me realize something crucial—that I've always seen you as a rival, whereas you only wanted to be friends with me. I allowed my competitive nature to ruin our chances of a meaningful connection. I fear now that you might avoid me, and I understand if you do. I worry that I might continue to hurt you, just like the people you often encounter, who don't treat you with the kindness you deserve. You deserve better than that, and I'm sorry for contributing to your pain.

#8 – GIVING ME ANOTHER CHANCE.

I never imagined we'd get another chance after what happened. I tried avoiding you, genuinely attempting to keep my distance. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't resist reaching out to talk to you again. It's almost as if we both sensed the need to address the situation, leading us to have that important conversation. I still don’t know why you gave me another chance. Did I not say hurtful things to you? How easily are you able to put that behind? Your ability to forgive and move past it leaves me in awe.

It's making me reflect on my own flaws, especially how I tend to hold grudges and struggle to let go of negative feelings. I can't quite comprehend how you do it, but you make me think about you more than ever before. Every word I speak now feels like it needs to be carefully considered, thanks to your presence in my thoughts. Your gesture of offering another chance touched me deeply and brought a smile to my face. I can't help but wonder what you've done to influence me in this way. I think you really did something to me.

#9 – FEELINGS, FEELINGS, FEELINGS.

We've connected much faster than I anticipated, even surprising my friends. I'm left wondering what you've done to me. You've become an all-encompassing thought – your smile, your laughter, your sense of humor – everything about you fills my mind. At times, I ponder whether I ever cross your thoughts too. Could this be love? My friends have mentioned it, and I can't find a way to refute them. I'm fond of you, immensely so. Isn't that a crazy twist?

It's a strange journey we're on. I started this journal to document the reasons I disliked you, but look at where it's led us. Is it too soon to be feeling this way? The idea of revealing my feelings is terrifying, yet I'm unsure if I'll ever have another opportunity. Please bear with me, allow me to find the right moment. Perhaps soon, hopefully, you'll be in my arms. I realize how absurd all this sounds – what am I even saying?

#10 – HOW EASY YOU WON ME OVER.

You won. You won my heart effortlessly, but I didn't win yours in return. I'm burdened with regret for how I've treated you. My ignorance and neglect weigh heavily on me now. It's painfully clear that he's all you've ever been able to think about. Why did I delude myself into thinking I could make a difference? If only I had treated you with the kindness you deserved from the start. Could that have made you love me instead? These thoughts haunt me.

I've grown aware of my own attachment, and I'm sorry for allowing it to consume me. I apologize for the disruption I've caused in your recent weeks. I can't bring myself to be genuinely happy for you and him, though he does seem like a better man than I could ever be. It's evident that I need to move on for your sake, to make things easier for you. Yet, there's a part of me that wishes I could still claim you as mine. That longing will always remain unchanged.

I doubt you'll ever stumble upon this journal entry, not that I would ever permit anyone to. But regardless, I want you to know that I do love you. It's a truth that's etched deeply within me, even though it pains me to admit it.

💭 — fun fact this was supposed to have a happy ending until i pulled out spotify n listened to lyn lapid…yeah.

ENHA PERM TAGLIST (🎥) — @flwoie @ixomiyu @yenavrse @shinsou-rii @bearseulgs @ilovewonyo @yenqa @dimplewonie @bubblytaetae @wtfhyuck @ineedaherosavemeenow @starcubes @starikizs @wonioml @chirokookie @xiaoderrrr @neozon3nha @en-chantedtomeetyou @millksea @enhaz1 @eundiarys @woon2u @ja4hyvn @judeduartewannabe @j-wyoung @thia-aep @vampcharxter @softpia @officiallyjaehyuns @itsactuallylina @hsheart @sweetjaemss @ahnneyong @hanienie @jwnghyuns @kpoplover718 @jiawji @rikizm @haknom @yeokii @wvnkoi @whoschr @teddywonss @shinunoga-iie-wa @flwrshee @skzenhalove @misokei @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @miercerise @litttlestars @enhapocketz

[aangelinakii]

omg hii this is my first time requesting something, and i ADORE your works!! i love that you put songs alonf with your writings and they all suit it SO WELL ugh it makes me so happy omogkgkgmgm ok anyways!!!!

i was wondering if you could possibly write any type of childhood friends possibly to lovers(?) with bruce or jason! ive been itching for a nice childhood friends little storyy

please take care of yourself and feel free to ignore this if your requests are closed <3

DUVET.

— a shame that i can read your mind.

summary : charity balls are just as boring as they've always been. thankfully, bruce wayne is here to take the pressure off.

note : hey welcome ! sorry this took so long to write ! hope you enjoy and thank you for requesting pls request again !! <3 and also i kind of mixed this in with another request which is pictured at the bottom of the fic :)

these events never got easier with age. lots and lots of talking, nursing a flute of champagne you must consciously not drink too fast, being polite to even those your parents complain about at the dinner table.

memories of your etiquette lessons come flooding back to you, and you straighten your back, as if your tutor will be peering around the corner, waiting to grade you.

and then your eyes move to the corner, half expecting them to be standing there, but the person you see instead pulls the weight from your shoulders.

smile shining just as bright as the crystal chandeliers overhead, bruce wayne saunters over, making his big entry. and his first instinct isn't to introduce himself, it's to join you.

"(name)! how great it is to see you here!" he grins, pulling you from the conversation you're barely hanging onto.

he holds a hand out, more calloused now than it would have been a good few years ago, and you wonder what he does in his free time. you take it, and he pulls you in for a brief hug.

despite the change of things, his hugs have remained the same the whole time.

since that first night you met him, when his parents were... when you met his parents, he hugged you right before you left the event, lagging just behind your parents. it was tight, warm, platonic — but you always wonder now if he ever liked you growing up.

when he pulled away, he offered a firm handshake to the people you were speaking to.

"bruce wayne, lovely to meet you." he always had such a confidence when speaking publicly, or to new people, which, despite your etiquette lessons, you could never quite grasp. "i hope you don't mind if i steal away (name) here for a moment?"

he didn't waste another moment in sweeping you away, hand on your back.

when you were sure you were far enough away, you glanced back and spoke lowly to your friend. "god, bruce, what took you so long? i was dying there." you took this opportunity to down the rest of your bubbly, now that no one was scrutinising.

and he returned with that hearty, rich laugh you couldn't help but relish. if you thought hard enough, you could hear the echo of his old squeaky prepubescent laugh, so far from how he was now.

"i had... things to attend to," he responded vaguely, leading you to your own little space of the room. he always had "things" to attend to. although you were curious, you hadn't pushed yet, but it seemed like these things were making him busier and busier.

if it was a business agreement, surely he trusted you enough to tell you?

with a shake of your head, you diverged the topic. "but you're here now," you smiled. "and that's all that matters."

when bruce wayne looks at you, it's as if no one else in the room exists; not even in the entire city of gotham. a waiter passes with a tray, and bruce swoops two fresh flutes of bubbly, and you replace one of them with your empty glass.

he holds one out to you, the fullness of his eyes overwhelming — they're full of adoration, and your chest feels heavy, and you can't tell why to anything — and the corner of his mouth is curled in a half-smile.

who are you if you don't take it?

the chilled glass burns your fingers, or perhaps it's because you're holding onto the stem so tightly.

bruce leans in slightly, his free hand making its way to the pocket of his trousers, and he speaks lowly into your ear. "why don't we explore this place a little bit?"

at his proposition, you can't help but laugh. it would be just like before; after the death of his parents, at balls and events like this, you would make attempt after attempt at cheering him up. hide and seek always seemed to work, along with the thrill of being two little kids being somewhere you really oughtn't.

now you were of a certain age and you couldn't really play hide and seek, but when times got boring, exploration of a venue seemed a perfect idea.

it wasn't even a question of if, it was a question of when.

without missing a beat, you grabbed his hand and led him to the doors.

"if i remember correctly, i'm pretty sure i heard someone talking about an amazing garden," you muttered behind you. as the door closed behind you, the chatter of the event muffled, and the dome fitting just the two of you fell down over your heads.

"oh, garden?" bruce hummed, interest piqued. neither of you had noticed that it was time to stop holding hands. "sounds like it needs some inspection."

with a shared laugh, you walked down the halls of the mansion; whoever lived here was lucky, and if they were opening it up to the public (although esteemed and rich) they must be very trusting.

finally, the two of you came to a door, intricate and tall, glass looking out to a lushly green garden, illuminated by the full moon overhead.

as bruce pushed open the door, a soft chill brushed over your arms, and you took a sip of champagne to make up for it. the man allowed you to walk in front, stepping curiously onto the stone porch that led out to the rest of the green, before he carefully closed the door.

just the two of you once again.

from out here, you could just about hear the classical tune winding through the hall where the event was up and running.

finding the ledge of the fountain, trickling with water, you sat down and pat the space beside you. "come sit."

bruce eyed you for a moment, blue eyes twi kling in the night. he would never pass up a moment to sit with you, drinks in hand, ready to talk about whatever popped up.

it was always easy talking to you, the one who knew him best, like he were the back of your own hand. it was like getting in bed and tucking your duvet up to your chin, knowing you're safe, and only sweet dreams will come your way.

[harrysmimi]

Maybe If You're Lucky

Synopsis: One where Harry is smitten like a kitten

More of my work | Based on this ask

Harry had been so smitten lately. He thinks he might be in love even!

So it all started when he met this girl who was apparently new to town and was asking for directions to him, also apparently her google map was confusing her and she was joining her new job that day. He of course helped her out that day, never thinking that she would take the same route everyday to work from then.

One day he finally gathered up enough courage to to go approach her. Yes, he is more shy when he's not on the stage.

Turned out she did seemed to know who he was and what he did for living, in fact she said she was a One Direction fan at some point but, soon enough Taylor Swift took over her life, which is fair enough. Now she does listens to few of his solo songs, his debute solo album is her most favourite she told him.

Now he got to know she moved to London for her new job as the assistant manager at the headquarters of her firm. It was a big day for her, which Harry gladly saved.

Now he's got himself a date with her!

Her nervously got ready, in just a simple black dress shirt, with a pair of pants, he had let his hair be messy. He quickly put on a nice pair of dress shoes and threw on a coat before he was out of the door. He drove directly to the restaurant where they were supposed to meet up. He only had to wait exactly two minutes before his date was jogging upto the restaurant.

Her bag thrown over her shoulder, a beanie on her head and glove covered hands. She was trying to walk as quickly as she can, huffing put of breath. Harry decided to walk upto her even though he have to walk back towards the restaurant.

"Hey," he greeted her with a big smile.

"Hi," he huffed, and slowed down her her pace. "Sorry, I am really not used to walking."

"That's alright, let's fo in and get you some water first." He grabbed a gentle hold of her hand, he knew she was at work. She had some extra work so she was working on Saturday. That's why their lunch date became a dinner date. Just as they were about to get into the restaurant, YN gasped.

"I swear I was on the same bus, why did I got down like 10 minutes away!" She groaned in frustration, earning a giggle from Harry.

"You'll learn, come on now." He urged her inside, it was warmer and she needs water. They finally sat down and waiter served them some water. "I'll take it your day at work was good then?"

"Oh yeah!" She nodded taking a big sip of her water, "I thought I'd enjoy it more here, meeting new people and all, it's someone as worse as back home. Sorry I am complaining. How was your day?"

"No you're not!" He defended, "my day was pretty good, very productive day." She smiled in reply on hearing about his day.

Soon they ordered their food, and hot know more about one another. Just the mandatory first date things, he got to know few little things and that was pretty much it. Harry could see she was getting overwhelmed. Of course, she has been working all day and she is most definitely tired.

"Come on I'll drop you to your place." Harry suggested as he helped her put on her coat.

"Oh you don't have to really, I can take the bus." She said politely, "thanks though."

"You sure? It's quite late." He pointed out. To be honest he did not wanted the night with her to come to an end. He really did enjoyed the time spent with her. "I insist."

"Okay, thank you." She accepted his offer. Harry so kindly got the door her like a gentleman he is. He drove her to her place, it was a safe neighborhood in a complex. He stopped just right by her building and got out with her. "I had a good evening with you, Harry, thank you for being such a gentleman."

"Thank you for giving me your time," he blushed, "hope we could do this again sometime?"

"Yeah." She beamed a rather contained smile.

There was going to be a second date!

......................................................................

It's been three months, the second date happened.

It was a picnic. She brought some delicious home cooked food which reminded her of home. But it's been a good month and half since they both saw one another. Harry had to be in New York for work.

Harry was dying to see her again, hug her again. He was invited over to hers for lunch when he gets back to London.

YN on the other hand was trying her best to get accustomed to the new country and people around her, Harry definitely helped alot and she made a few friends. Her neighbour, Nina was definitely one those people for her who introduced her to her friends. Her weekends were hardly ever spent at home since. Harry said he looked forward to seeing hearing about her weekends on Monday when they have a nice little call during her lunch break.

YN adjusting to her work was really nothing out of blue, she definitely did got the promotion a couple of months before she got to know they needed her at the headquarters. She was used to the work load and pressure. And her colleagues seemed have not to like her much as someone superior at work.

Well, her dad is the CMO at the branch back home, she had joined at junior executive at the age of 18 and made her way up. Did her dad being CMO helped her growth? You can say that. And she is clearly aware of that fact. But her own superiors did not gave a crap about her dad being CMO at the headquarters or at the branch back home, and she worked hard to be where she is. She gave ten years of her life to the company.

And with her sharing these tid bits with her parents had them have a surprise visit to her place. It ruined her plan with Harry. She haven't told her parents about him yet, though they had a idea there was a boy involved. She doesn't even have the heart to tell Harry the truth.

She was at work and her parents and brother were out that dah exploring the city on a Monday. Harry had went in to visit YN. He looked all cosy and snuggly in his winter clothes and a visitors pass hanging around his neck. He'd brought in lunch for YN.

"Hey!" He greeted her the first thing with a hug as she approached him in the waiting area.

"Hi," she hugged him back, "you look handsome!"

"Thanks, love." He smiled shyly, "you look pretty." He tucked loose strands of her hair behind her ear and fixed the fringes she impulsively got last weekend. No she wasn't drunk.

"Thank you." She had a hold her his arm as if she is nervous to tell him something. It was like when she her parents found out that she snuck a kitten in her school back pack on her way home a day after she did pretty badly on a test. "I have to tell you something."

"Yeah, you want to tell me over the lunch?" He suggested, "it's getting cold."

"Oh, yeah, yeah." She realised he was holding a paper bag with take out food containers. She showed him the way to cafeteria and they both sat down at the table farthest away in the corner.

"What is it you wanted to tell me?" He brought up the topic.

"So, my parents are here." She started but paused for his reaction. He isn't really surprised, he really didn't know how to react.

"And...?" He asked.

"I am sorry we'll have to postpone the lunch, they're staying for two weeks." She shared.

"That's fine, love," he shrugged it off, "don't worry about it."

"I haven't told them about you and I, yet..."

"That's completely fine too." This took YN by surprise. But he's told his entire family about her, he had told his mother about her even though they haven't even made it official yet. Hell, they've only been on two dates.

It's a different story that Harry is completely head over heels for her already, that he ended up telling his mum about her and hence his sister and dad and step mother too. She doesn't have to do the same.

"I don't know what to tell them." She shrugged, "the last time I told them I am seeing this guy in junior college, they grounded me!" She let out a chuckled sigh, feeling embarrassed. And here too, it's a different story she was being delusional just to late find out that boy already was double dating two other girls. So her grounding was to really ground her.

"Hey," Harry switched seats to sit next to her. "It's alright, I know we haven't made things official yet but we haven't had the chance to have that conversation yet."

"Do you want to make it official?" She asked carefully, looking at him through her lashes. "It's been pretty official to me."

"I'd love nothing more than that!" He grinned a toothy smile as he placed a kiss on the apple of her cheek. She held up her pinky, he hooked his own around hers. "But do take your time to tell your parents about me and us, there is no rush."

"You're just too perfect, stop!" She hugged his arm making him giggle. She was honestly too nervous about telling him that her parents do jot have any idea about him, but no more than telling the people who birthed her that she is dating a white man. A British white man to be exact!

"I try." He giggled.

They had a good time during her lunch break. YN went back home that evening and decided to tell her parents while she prepared for dinner with her dad. Well, surprisingly her dad was the easiest to handle, he doesn't get angry easily. Her mother on the other hand, she is a tough time. So she decided to tell her dad who will later handle his wife in his own way, he can take all her wrath for his only daughter.

"Well, I knew." Her dad told her, "Jerin told me that there was a lad visiting you today on lunch." He emphasised on the word 'lad' making her chuckle. "Why don't you invite him over for dinner this weekend? Of course, if he is ready."

"You sure?" She asked cautiously.

"Yeah. I'll tell you mother later on." He assured her.

......................................................................

It was Saturday, and least to say YN's mother was just dealing with it. Given the fact her daughter is dating a British guy. She did not approved that. She would rather her daughter marry an Indian guy from a well sophisticated family. But she was willing to put up with this dinner for YN.

Harry on the other hand was lowkey panicking. He had been ranting about this to his therapist for entire week. His nerves were all time high, though he was pretty good at hiding it. He had picked out a pretty semi formal outfit for the evening, a baby blue dress shirt, and black dress pants, with a pair or his faux leather shoes, he chose to wear just few of his rings leaving out his initials rings. He didn't wanted to seem narcissistic on the first meeting with his girlfriend's parents.

He picked up a bouquet of flowers for the mother of his lady, and a rose for her. When he finally got upto her flat, he could hear the laughs and commotion coming from inside of the house. It definitely did calmed his nerves down a bit. Her family seemed a little inviting already, even though he is just a door away from them. He rung the bell, and a few seconds later a young man opened the door.

"You must be Harry?" He said, "I am Veer, YN's brother. Come on in!" He moved aside so Harry can get in. "Please take off your shoes, YN just cleaned her entire flat today."

"Oh, okay." He nodded. And just as they entered the living room, he saw YN on standing on the edge of the backrest of her sofa which was pushed against the wall, hanging up pictures frames. She clearly looked a bit frustrated, her eye bags gave it away. She still looked gorgeous, dressed in an oversized beige jumper and a pair of loose fit jeans and her Cars socks. Her hair tied up with a claw clip on the back of her head. She had just one of the picture hug up before Harry caught her eye and she turned red in embarrassment. There was still a pile of frames stacked up on the coffee table.

Her flat was pretty small for four people to live in, but perfectly too bit for one person. Given all he knows her family is staying with her at her place. The living room was small and cosy, and door which lead to the bedroom. A kitchen which he missed by the hallway. It was all cute, and interior reflected YN's personality in it.

YN quickly got down from the sofa and approached him. "I am sorry about that."

"It's alright, love." He told her calmly.

"This is my mother, Harry. And Mumma this is Harry." YN introduced both of them. Harry went to approach her mother carefully and have her the bouquet of flowers.

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. YLN."

"Thank you for these Harry, and like wise." The lady smiled. Which took YN by surprise. "And this is Veer, YN's brother."

"Yeah, we met at the door." Veer said, "go on, why don't tou meet dad he's in the kitchen."

"Oh, yes!" YN grabbed Harry's hand and dragged him back towards the hallway he just came in from and to the kitchen.

There the man was, a look alike of his girlfriend. Gray hair and beard kept clean and nice, a pink appron wrapped around his waist as he cooked up some amazing food.

"Papa, meet Harry!" YN announced, "Harry this is my dad."

"Hello sir, nice to meet you!" Harry smiled shyly as he approached with a handshake, but YN's dad surprised him with a hug.

"Nice to meet you too Harry." YN's dad said patting his back. "So Harry, do you like to cook?"

"I am not very well at cooking I'm afraid, but I can cook some pasta dishes." He shared, "this smells very fragrant, I should say!"

"Papa is the best cook ever," YN started, "his best dish is the Chicken Pulao he makes, since you're vegetarian he's just making veg today."

"That's very considerate, thank you!" He again smiled shyly.

"You kids go out and have fun, food is almost ready." YN's dad suggested, "we'll have a chat over dinner."

"Sure, you want any help?" YN asked to which her dad declined. She took a hold of Harry's hand and walked him out.

"Harry you want to see YN's baby pictures?" Veer announced.

"Oh god!" YN groaned rolling her eyes as she followed Harry to the sofa, he quietly handed her the rose he got her.

He sat down as Veer shared back stories of each of YN's baby pictures. He got to know YN is the youngest, she's got yet another older brother is stuck at work unfortunately. There was a family picture frame where YN seemed to be around 22-23, she had worn a gorgeous black sparkly saree with a slick back bun and a bold burgundy lip. Oh how Harry was smitten again!

Another picture from the same day with both of her brothers. And a few other pictures pf her with her niece and baby nephew. The reason behind all these pictures was her mother who didn't wanted her daughter to feel alone all the way in another continent. Which is very sweet in Harry's opinion. It's a rather good option to stay grounded when you can see pictures of people who you love and who love you everyday.

Soon the dinner was ready and least to say, Harry felt very welcomed in her family. He felt all his worries melt away the more he got to know her parents. Yeah, her mum is a little tough but she is like a marshmallow inside who loves her daughter dearly.

Harry also noticed YN had the tose he got her tucked over her right ear nicely. She looked adorable that way.

Again he did not wanted the night to come to an end but he had to leave, he's got to go studio the very next morning. YN walked him back to his car.

"It was fun meeting your parents, your dad is amazing!" Harry shared.

"Seems he already likes you, more than me might I add." YN giggled.

"What about your mum, she did not seemed much impressed by me, did I do something wrong?"

"Don't worry about her, she'll come around." YN assured him. "I don't want you to go though!"

"Trust me baby, I don't want to leave either." Harry sighed as he leaned back on his car reaching out to pull her closer with his hands on her hips. "We'll spend the next weekend together, yeah?"

"Yup!" She nodded, "thank you for the flower, it's very pretty!"

"You make it look prettier." He swears he's falling in with this girl every passing micro second, he's just too nervous confess just yet. His compliment made her blush though, "anyway, will I be able to see you in a saree in person?"

She squinted her eyes as if she is thinking hard. "Maybe if you're lucky. One day, yeah."

"Oh if I am lucky?" He raised his eyebrows acting surprised, "aren't I lucky now? Have got you in my arms."

YN's awkward senses kicked in as her nose scrunched up to mock him, "you are lucky, yeah!"

Harry let put a defeated sigh, "I don't want to leave."

"You have got an album to make." YN pouted sadly looking at him with puppy eyes behind her glasses. "I have be up early tomorrow as well, apparently my dad's got a surprise which requires getting up early."

"Well do share with me what the surprise is." He said to which she nodded, they stayed in silence for a couple of minutes before he impulsively asked her, "can I kiss you?" It's shocking? Not really, they haven't kissed yet. Well, they hardly saw one another.

YN reaction was holding back an embarassed laugh covering her mouth, "I haven't done before, so sorry if I suck. But yes, you can kiss me!" That made Harry giggle.

"You are adorable!" He went in for the kiss sliding up one his hand on the back of her head. He pressed his lips on hers gently, in a closed mouth lips which lingered longer than YN anticipated. "See it was amazing!" He announced again making her hide her fave in his chest. "Alright, you're making it harder for me to leave now."

"It's working then." She mumbled again the fabric of his shirt. "Okay, okay I'll let you go now. But text me when you get home yeah?"

"You know I will." He pressed a kiss on her hair. She reluctantly pulled away from him and took a few steps backwards before she was running back into her building.

......................................................................

Now it's been a couple of more months. Harry birthday passed by. He got to finally take YN to see his mum and sister, he said he'd take her to see his dad some other time as he seemed to be busy around that time.

Harry was invited to one his best friend's birthday and album released party. Ed Sheeran, his best friend. To which of course he decided to go, he asked his girlfriend to be his date. It was going to big party at one Ed's Villa. It was a themed party, everyone was supposed to wear something black.

So Harry put on one his simpler suit, styled up his hair and put on some nice cologne, got a rose for on the way. He went over to pick up his girl. He went upto her flat instead amd what he saw left him in complete and utter awh!

There she was wearing the same saree he saw her wearing in those pictures few months ago. She looked exactly as stunning in those pictures, or somehow even more. This time she had her hair pulled up in a low slick bun, and wore a smokey eye look and the same bold burgundy lip. God he could kiss her right then and there!

So he did, he pulled her in a big smooch on her mouth. "God, you look stunning baby!"

"Thank you!" She smiled shyly, "oh can you please help me get this?" She turned around and there was a top hook left opened which she couldn't get, so he helped her with it.

"Also, I'm gonna do this." He placed the rose carefully on the side of bun. He'd especially asked the florist to cut the stem short because he's figured YN loved wearing roses he gets her.

"Aw, that's cute, I'm gonna go look at it!" She bunny jogged to her bedroom and came back out just as quickly. "It looks so nice!"

"It does indeed." He agreed grinning ear to ear.

"Okay let me wear my shoes and we can leave." She clapped her hands silently and was hopping her way to her shoe rack before he stopped her.

"And where is your coat, miss?" He asked.

"Oh, I don't need that. It'll ruin my look!" She whined as she looked for her shoes.

"Nuh-uh, we're not going anywhere unless you wear your coat. It's fucking freezing outside, don't want you getting sick. Get your coat or a cardigan at least." He insisted, but firmly. He seriously wouldn't budge, he'd got to know her well in these five months that she gets sick way too easily. Like every month she has to catch a fever or a cold.

She slump walked to her room and got a coat, which he helped put on. And once she put on her shoes they were headed out. Harry drove her to the party.

"I can't believe I am casually going to Ed Sheeran's birthday party!" She fangirled in the car. And even told Harry about how she impulsively bought very expensive looking tickets to his shows, two of them so she is not alone and can drag her friend along. She had just started her new job at the very minimal salary. More than half of her monthly salary went into buying those tickets (the nosebleeds!!) and she gradually saved up enough to book a hotel room and train tickets as the concert was in another city. Those were best chaotic three months of her life.

Finally Harry stopped in front of the venue. It was a party thrown by Ed's manager and least to say the mans did not shy back on spending money. There were valet for every guest. YN felt at ease now knowing she won't be over dressed.

She enjoyed the party would be an understatement, she had a blast. Especially Harry introduced her to Ed in person, her inner fangirl did not shy off. YN was bursting with joy when they left the party.

"Oh my god! I actually got to meet him!" She fangirled on her way back to Harry's car with a little hop to her walk.

Harry was just happy to see her happy and bubbly. They finally stopped by his car by the passenger side, he pulled in close with his hands on her back, under her coat softly caressing her exposed skin.

"Did you enjoyed yourself?" He asked, moving in closer.

"I actually had a blast!" She exclaimed again making him giggle.

"Haven't got to kiss you all day." He pouted sharing. He was actually hesitant of ruining her makeup, thinking her lipstick might smudge or something.

"I was with you the whole evening, why didn't you?" She looked at him confused but could feel her heart melt.

"Don't want to ruin your makeup and smudge up your lipstick." He looked at her with puppy eyes.

"You know I wouldn't have mind, plus my lipstick is tranfer proof." She shared watching his fave lit up.

"Why didn't you tell me that before!" He gasped, and the next thing YN knew was feeling his lips on hers in a needy kiss.

In that moment he knew, he loved her.

[lieswetell]

IFHY (Jordan Li x Alt!Reader) PT 1

Tags~ roommate au, enemies to lovers, alt reader, tattooed reader, slow burn, supe!reader, afab!fem!reader

Warnings~ angry sex, jordan might be a lil mean, porn w plot bc im freaky like that, drugs, alcohol, gay shit

Monday, August 7th

“It’s only one semester. This will be over before you know it,” Mia said.

You want to hear her out and try to be optimistic about the situation, but it’s complicated. Having your own dorm was rare in Godolkin. Students who did usually paid an ungodly amount for the extra privacy or were gifted one because of their current sponsors. For you, in your previous two years, it had been a mixture of both.

“This is bullshit.” You complain and have to force yourself not to roll your eyes at your phone.

Mia hadn’t done anything wrong. She was doing everything she could to get you what you wanted. However, it wasn’t playing out in your favor this time. You were still in your dorm, trying to cling on to that last bit of single dorm life you could, even though you were moments away from the move.

“Look. I love you, but there isn't anything else I can do. Some of these kids will probably be out in a few months.” Mia tried to help you look on the bright side of the situation.

You have yet to respond to what your assistant was telling you. Instead, you just kept looking around the now-empty dorm with a mournful gaze.

“Shetty says it’s a large roo-” Mia added.

“My room was plenty big enough,” You complained again. This time, the words came out in a sort of whine that would remind anyone else of a toddler.

 You got up from the floor and wiped your hands on your pants. After taking a deep breath, you closed the last bin in your room.

“One semester.”  You sighed.

“One semester,” Mia said, her voice a lot more positive than yours.

“When are you recording that video for-”

“Alright, look at the time the moving team is here. Can’t be late.” You cut her off and blew her a kiss before hanging up on her.

The moving team wasn’t anywhere near your room, and you knew that. If you focused, you could hear everyone in the building. There wasn’t a trace of dickheads with whistles anywhere near you.

The Godolkin University moving team usually consisted of sophomore students with too much strength to know where to put it. Many were from various clubs or programs that forced them to help incoming students. 

You started to stack your bins and luggage outside of your room on your own. Typically, the moving team would assist the students. Still, it was effortless for you to carry the items, and you thought if you looked around your dorm for any longer, you might burst into tears. That wasn’t very productive or good for your image if anyone were to see it. So you popped in your earbuds and started to lift the bins. When finished you put the label on your crate 465.

 With the headphones in your ears, you didn’t notice just how much more lively it was. Most of your floormates were in other single dorms with other upper-level students. So you would only really run into a few people if any, daily. With the influx of incoming students moving in, you would easily have trouble avoiding anyone. According to your assistant Mia, every dorm room was filled(yayyyy godolkin for not allowing students to live off campus).

After skipping an array of songs, Spotify somehow thought would suit your style, someone poked you on the shoulder.

“You’re 17#, right? Big fan, honest.”The boy said. Something you noticed everyone said after they wanted to snap a quick picture with someone. You couldn’t complain, though you had no proof this person was lying to you.

“Nice to meet you.” You said and copied the same amount of excitement. The perfect amount to seem genuine but still cool enough to feel above them in that weird way you can only get from social media. You extended your hand, and he shook it eagerly.

You didn't feel that way, of course. That’s just the game and how you needed to perform. All to get where you needed to be. Being a hero was a machine full of moving parts, and Mia has been training you since you were fourteen.

“Can I get a picture?” He asked, and you nodded before he could get the sentence out.

Always…

“Always always…” you answered happily. You quickly adjusted your hair and gave the boy a side hug.

The selfie came out nice. Cute and wholesome. You made sure he tagged you on the picture and used a few of your hashtags. You gazed around, wondering who was assisting him with the move. He just looked around at your bins before looking back up at you.

“Is there anything fragile in there?” He asked awkwardly. It seems he hadn't shaken off the nerves from meeting you. It was so silly to you. You weren’t Homelander or Queen Maeve.

“Yeah, the fragile stuff is in that box right there. Marked fragile in bold red tape…”

The boy then looked back at you with a look you couldn’t place. Before you could even realize what was about to happen, his arms stretched out to unnatural lengths as if he were made of rubber. He lifted all of your bins simultaneously. He wrapped and stacked them into the carts and secured them as if his arms were bungee cords. It was astonishing. You had never seen that power before, and although it was slightly disgusting, it was cool.

Just as you went to pat him on the back, a box on top crashed to the floor. You heard the glass shatter and knew instantly it was the fragile box he so kindly placed on top of everything to avoid it getting crushed. Just my luck. That was definitely the bong in there that you’ve had for a few years. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I've been stretched out all day. Things are starting to fall out.” he apologized genuinely.

“Lemme guess you are usually super tight?”

Your roommate was finished moving all of her things to the other side of the room. It definitely started as a struggle, but after a bit of time, Jordan started to get the hang of it. Early in the process, he was just bitching to himself about having to do this in the first place. He didn't really have anyone to complain about it to. His friends were rooming with each other, and he was the only one stuck rooming with a new person.

 His parents didn't understand his frustrations, and instead, they were just happy he would be rooming with a girl. Jordan tried explaining his irritation to Brink, but that was also a no-go. All Brink did was reframe the situation by saying it could somehow make Jordan a better hero.

“Are there seriously no fucking quads in this place?” Jordan complained to no one.

He sat on his loveseat on his couch and scrolled on his phone. He debated not being in the room when his new roommate arrived. Jordan heard that people had done that, but he was too nervous to do it himself. What if you stole something? What if you wanted to put your stuff on his side? Maybe you were a weird freshman? Or worse, a fan of him?

He sat back on the couch. His feet were planted firmly in front of him, and he scrolled on his phone. It was a position he often found himself in. In this form, his feet were actually able to reach the floor when he sat all the way back on the couch comfortably. In the other one, her feet dangled and gave off a less intimidating look than the one he was currently in.

There was a soft knock on the door. Jordan rolled his eyes and stayed in his position. Why would he open the door? If they were supposed to be moving in, they surely would have a key, right? He looked at his door open. Jordan wasn’t really sure what to expect to be standing in the doorway. 

When the ugly beast finally reared its head, Jordan finally exhaled. He hadn’t realized he was holding his breath until you waved at him.

“Hi” You said

It’s all you can offer him at the moment. The little helper you had assisting you barged in soon after you greeted Jordan. Jordan didn't even say anything to you. He just looked at you from his spot on the loveseat then his eyes trailed over to the freshman who couldn’t maintain eye contact with you.

“Looks like! Holy shit Jordan”

“Yeah.” He just nodded, confirming that he was indeed Jordan Li

The freshman stood awkwardly with your things and stared at Jordan. The interaction was just already a lot weirder than it needed to be. So you stood at the door and tried to think of a way to intervene in the impromptu staring contest.

“Thanks. You can just leave it right here. I can do the rest.” You thanked him with a big smile

With another resounding crash, he let go of the bins, and you winced. Jordan even was taken aback by the sound and rolled his eyes

“Are you sure, ma’am?” he asked 

He sounded genuine even though he treated your belongings like they were indestructible. You buffered for a moment and realized what he said

“Ma’am? How old do you think- never mind, just leave thanks.” You shooed him away and exhaled softly

“Bye”

He watched you. You unpacked your things, and he stayed put and just watched you. He was cycling through so many things in his head. Being so last minute, this situation didn't give him any time to prepare. The only thing he did was clean and move his shit to one side of the room. He was grateful that he could at least recognize you from the ranking. The unknown was scary like that. Jordan knows you have been slowly climbing your way to the top. Your reputation was squeaky clean. Your brand was sweet, innocent, and confident. 

Your brand didn't mean he trusted you, though. Anyone with more than two fucking brain cells at this school knew that your ‘brand’ or ‘online presence’ meant absolutely nothing. Just because you waltz in here with your big smile and wave doesn't mean he will let his guard down. Roommate or not, you still had the potential to be a big fucking dick.

“Yeah, just don’t touch any of my shit, and we should be fine.” Jordan said without looking up from his phone.

He sat comfortably slumped on the sofa. The uninterested appearance he’s in pissed you off. Oh, so he’s just like this? You could do this, though. You wouldn’t let him see that you were frustrated. People like him lived off of that shit, and you wouldn’t give him what he wanted. You just nodded and gave him another smile, one real enough to be convincing.

“I understand. You do have some nice things. Probably wouldn’t want anyone getting into it either.” You said in that cheerful voice that you had been trained to perfect. 

That time, Jordan did look at you. He was now thoroughly annoyed and over the roommate situation. In his eyes, he tried. In the twenty minutes you had been in the room, Jordan considered everything he had done ‘trying’. This situation wouldn’t work, though. He just wasn’t built to share rooms with a random person.

-

-

-

Wednesday, September 27th

“Jesus Christ, do you ever fucking fucking knock?!” Jordan shouted

You did knock. You dented the door to your room because you were banging on the door for about ten minutes. You even shot Jordan a few texts saying when you would return to the dorm. Of course, she hadn’t responded to any of them; she never did.

So you said fuck it and broke the lock on your door and walked into the room. Jordan was riding some junior in her bed. The sight wasn’t new to you, so you were unfazed. Seemingly to you, Jordan never really cared about you seeing her naked. It was more of the fact you were interrupting her that was the problem. In the two months you have been rooming with Jordan, you have walked in on her having sex four times.

The first time, it came as a shocker. You squealed and covered your eyes, immediately leaving the room and shooting her a few apology texts. When you left, Jordan just continued on like it was nothing. Like you were just a temporary pause. This time wasn’t like that. You walked in and closed the door behind you.

So you waved at the man who was underneath Jordan on the bed. He looked at you with a confused look, then turned to look back at Jordan, who was bewildered.

“You're not usually my type, but I think I could be down for both of you,” The man said, then looked back up at Jordan curiously.

You just walked toward your desk, sat down, and started up your laptop.

She climbed off him and huffed, “Get out”.

Then the man shuffled awkwardly around the room and tried to pick up his clothes. He slipped the condom off and didn't know what to do with it, so he tried to hand it to Jordan. She pointed towards the door, so he just nodded and held it as he left the room. His clothes were still crumpled in his other hand, covering his dick. You shook your head slightly, knowing that type of thing was far too normalized in this school.

“Do you purposely do that?” Jordan asked you sharply. It was more of an accusation. He barely spoke to you, and when he did, it was always intending to fight.

“Do what?” You asked and logged into the Godolkin portal.

“Wait until I’m using the room to appear out of thin air” She complained and stepped closer to you.

Whenever Jordan spoke to you, it was like they were a nagging little voice that you had to physically restrain yourself from losing your cool with. You didn’t want to risk an argument with Jordan, no matter how much of a bitch she was. It just wasn’t worth it. It would be optimistic to think that Jordan wouldn’t somehow get you lousy press from the situation. It was also optimistic of you to think that one day, Jordan would just stop trying to fight the fact that they would have to live with someone.

Every day you felt like you were seconds from Jordan finally saying fuck it and starting beef with you publicly just to fuck up your rank. Being ranked seventeen wasn’t the best you could be, but to most people, being in the top one hundred was quite an accomplishment. Job security was a hard thing for supes to find, and you weren’t going to fuck up your brand just because Jordan was having a bad day.

“Oh, please. I texted you, Jordan. Multiple times,” It came out with a little more emotion than you intended. Patience wasn’t your strength today.

“You didn’t,” She said flatly.

You huffed and pulled your phone out of your bag. When you pulled up the text chain to show her. You looked away awkwardly when she turned around to grab her phone. For some reason seeing her ass suddenly felt invasive, although she was so chill about it. Once again, she was more pissed about the fact she didn't cum.

“That’s not even my number.” She showed you her Apple ID and rolled your eyes.

“Who’s fault is that?” You asked her this time; your tone couldn’t have been mistaken for anything but annoyed.

Jordan realized what she did and grabbed your phone out of your hand. You scoffed at the action and tried to snatch it back, but she was faster than you. Probably in both forms, unfortunately. Jordan just updated the contact info and handed you back your phone(which you snatched out of her hands immediately).

“You could’ve knocked,” Jordan said, and you did a sharp inhale.

You looked up at her, then back down at your phone at the updated info. It was hard not for you to be pissed about the fact he lied to you. So many arguments could’ve been avoided, but of course, she couldn’t even give you her number.

“I did. For about ten minutes. Maybeyouweretoobusycreamingondicktohearaboutit” 

The words came out as a rushed whisper. The struggle of trying to hold your anger was starting to become not only a mental challenge but a physical one.

“What did you say?”Jordan asked. This time, he almost seemed kind of excited, which didn't help you calm your nerves in the slightest.

“The locks broken, by the way. You locked me out, so I had to break it open. I’ll schedule a maintenance worker to check it out around five,” You told him. The facade was back up. You were no longer spewing attitude at him.

The maintenance request was sent, and Jordan was left confused at the sudden change in demeanor. He was excited for a second that it seemed you finally had a moment of real fucking emotion with him. Jordan would much rather be alone in his dorm, but your unwavering positivity threw him off more than he intended.

Jordan could recall a few times he would complain and rant about you to his friends during smoke seshes. It had only been two months, but he felt like he wasn’t even rooming with a natural person. Something about you was too perfect, too clean, just all around, too bland. He was excited to talk to a person for that quick moment there. It's not the brand you posted for everyone to see. 

He went back to the other side of the room in defeat. He sat on top of his bed. Jordan never stopped looking at you. You slipped up, and maybe that gave him hope(he would never admit it).

“I need the room at five,” Jordan said.

You furrowed your brows and looked over at the calendar on the wall. Each day that passed, scribbled out with a blue Sharpie. You shook your head and looked over at him.

“You have class. It’s Wednesday,” You said matter of factly.

Jordan rolled his eyes and mumbled

.“No, I don’t.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at him. He could be so petty sometimes for no reason, and this was one of those moments.

“Did you just disagree with me just because?” You asked him.

Jordan couldn’t think of a comeback or words to say. You talked to him in that weirdly positive tone despite clearly being irritated with him again. Maybe his dick twitched a little, but he ignored that.

“Jordan, put some clothes on, okay?” 

“Fuck you”

“Your dick is out”

“Have a great day”

Maintenance fixed the door problem by 5:13 pm. It was a simple fix. A new doorknob was installed, but a couple of dents from your early frustration remained a reminder. Afterward, you were alone in your dorm, struggling to wait forty minutes to join a lecture.

  It was a struggle not to nod off in front of your computer. Online classes always felt like a good idea when you signed up for them, but you soon realized they were a trap. It is a carefully crafted trap for you to waste your time on the course because you couldn't keep your eyes open long enough to listen to your professor drone on about the importance of… You fell asleep.

You needed the relief anyway. It was a struggle to keep holding up the illusions you were. The influx of incoming students fucked you over. Having a roommate who hated you meant you were always using your powers. You couldn’t trust him not to try and ruin your brand. The only times you would have a break from having to cast an illusion was when Jordan was out doing whatever the fuck he did besides training and sulking.

Illusions fell around you—your side of the room that was once pale blue and pink warped into black and purple. Your hair, which once seemed to be tied tightly in a bun, fell around your shoulders. The pink sweater you wore was replaced with a black hoodie you had for years. The illusions you had concealing your tattoos shattered. The ink from your arm sleeve peaked out from the wrist of your hoodie.

-

-

-

“Who are you texting?”Andre asked 

It was late. Jordan sat on the couch in his friends' dorm and tried not to be bitter that there were only three bedrooms. He typed in his phone, angry you weren’t responding. Why does he have to deal with this? He’s pretty sure when he leaves that, all three of them just crash in the living room in a pile like cavepeople anyways. Andre’s room was always too fucking clean for anyone to actually stay in there.

He leaned over on the couch to try and take a peak at Jrdan’s phone. Jordan leaned away, mildly irritated with his friend. Andre just shrugged and made a face at Cate. Cate rolled her eyes, already knowing where this conversation was going to go. It was the only thing Jordan talked about the past couple of weeks.

“My hell of a roommate,” Jordan complained and rolled his eyes.

You hadn’t responded to the last ten texts he sent. He was trying to be better to you. He might've felt a bit guilty about giving you the wrong number for that long. So now he was trying to do what you would have done for him. He planned on bringing the same guy from earlier back over, but you wouldn’t respond to him.

“Oh, she cant be that bad?” Cate said, trying to be positive about the situation.

“Cute, you guys are texting,” Andre whispered.

Jordan heard him, however, and switched. Before Andre had a chance to react, Jordan slapped him in the back of the head. The touch was light but quick. Andre chuckled softly and then raised both of his hands.

“Well, I’m trying to tell her I'm on my way back to the dorm. Might need it in a few,” Jordan explained and put his phone away.

“Why do you look so stressed?” Luke asked.

To be honest, he was the only one not caught up on the whole Jordan hating her roommate thing. He thought she would get over it in a week, but clearly, that wasn’t the case. Jordan still hated you basically for existing at this point. Luke tried to lock in on the situation, but he was still pretty high from the session that just ended.

“She isn’t fucking responding,” Jordan whined.

“It’s fine. It’s only been like ten minutes,” Luke stated.

Luke’s eyes looked around the room for whatever the fuck he was missing. Cate just laughed beside him.

“Since the last text I sent. I texted her five hours ago,” Jordan added, her arms crossed in front of her.

“It’s probably nothing,” Luke assured her, although he didn't understand why the situation was that. 

Serious. Cate understood it, though. Even if, at the time, Jordan didn’t understand, she could have seen it already. Cate had a weird way of just knowing.

“Yeah, what are you so worried about?”Andre asked, raising his eyebrows in a suggestive way.

Jordan looked away and flipped him off. Cate and Andre shared another look, and Jordan wanted to flip the couch over. She didn’t though

“Fuck off, Dre.”

“Who is she again? Freshman?” Cate asked

“No, junior.” Jordan answered.

“Who is it?”Luke asked, hoping that maybe that would explain Jordan’s frustration.

When Jordan answered, none of them had much of a reaction, which wasn’t very satisfying for Jordan. Andre didn’t even know who you were talking about(he didn't pay attention to the rankings much). Cate just nodded, taking in the info. It was always funny to her how the most liked people could be some of the worst. Luke didn't run with Jordan’s opinion of her roommate. He knew how dramatic Jordan could sometimes be, and he was pretty sure she would've hated any roommate she was assigned to just because they were an inconvenience to Jordan.

Jordan didn't like the feeling of being interrogated, so the hangout was cut shorter than normal. Once she answered one question, it was like he opened Pandora’s box of bullshit, and everyone wouldn’t get the spotlight off of her. So, she gave up on reaching out to the guy from earlier and instead was banging on the door of her dorm room like a mad woman.

“Dude, open the fucking door!”Jordan shouted.

He didn't want to break the door again, but the longer he stood outside, the more appealing of an idea it became. Inside the dorm, you were still fast asleep at your desk. The exhaustion from overusing your powers took a severe toll on your body. You had been out cold the entire time. All illusions previously placed on you and your things were deactivated.

“C’mon, this is really petty. Just open up.” Jordan said again, but you couldn’t hear him.

A hard alarm sounded in your ear. You shook your head awkwardly, then scrambled to check your laptop.

Take your pill

You nodded and stood up to take your birth control. You made it three steps before you fell because of the loud bang at your door. Shit. Jordan’s voice yelled something behind the door that you couldn’t quite make out at the moment. All you knew was that you needed to hurry and get all the illusions back up. You waved your hands a bit, trying to tap into Jordan’s psyche once you were confident enough that the illusions were back up, and you dry-swallowed your birth control and made your way to the door.

Act normal

“Hey, sorry I got caught up in studying?” You answered the door with a smile.

“Fine, whatever. I texted you, though.” Jordan looked at you, partially confused

It didn't make sense to him. You went hours without answering him, and your excuse was that you got caught up studying. What the fuck? You didn’t even look tired? Jordan hated you. You closed the door behind him and sat on your bed.

[darkeralmond]

Do you write smut for conrad fisher? If you do can you do a jealous conrad x reader? thank you!!

i do now! thank you so much for requesting ILY anon ❤️❤️

WANNA BE YOURS

Conrad Fisher x fem! Reader

summary: You and Conrad were at a party for Belly’s birthday hosted by Nicole. You were stranded by Conrad and notice a guy alone on the couch. You decide to be friendly and talk to him before dancing with him. Conrad and you get into an argument over this until you say the thing he’s been waiting to hear.

warnings: 18+, smut, angry Connie, car sex, penetration, she/her pronouns, arguing, vulgar language, Conrad calling you “good girl”, dirty talk

word count: 1.9k

a/n: connie is a popular guy in my request board 😭, not complaining tho i love him!! thank you again for the request!! P.S. I LOVE ARTIC MONKEYS AND PAXTON H-Y!!!

masterlist | request info

The music was loud in your ears as you entered the crowded living room. Conrad had left you alone to go find out where Steven was, but all the people in one space triggered your claustrophobia.

You looked over and saw a guy sitting by himself on the couch with a look of defeat on his face. There were people dancing all around him while he chugged whatever substance he had in his red solo cup. Usually, you don’t feel sympathy for strangers, but something about this guy made your heart wrench.

You approached him. “You alright?” Sure, it’s weird when a stranger asks others how they’re feeling, but some people need to vent to someone they don’t know.

He looked up at you with red eyes, you couldn’t tell if he was high or if he had been crying. He sniffled, “Yeah, uh, I caught my girl cheating on me with my homeboy upstairs.”

Shit. “Oh,” you replied.

You sat down next to him while he explained, “It’s chill. She was a bitch anyway.” He brought his cart up to his lips and took a hit. He was high. “You wanna hit?” He offered it to you.

You shook your head, “I’m straight edge.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, “The fuck is straight edge?”

You laughed at his reaction. It was the same one every person had when you told them the same answer. “That means I chose to stay sober.” Your thought process was by staying sober, it helped you avoid all the drama that starts when you’re black out drunk. Drunk confessions, drunk fighting, the list goes on. “It just helps me stay out of trouble.”

He exhaled smoke from his lips and nose. “Ohhhh,” he laughed. “Respect.”

“Yeah,” you giggled. You then looked out at everyone dancing and having a good time. “Why don’t we dance?”

He smiled, “Sure.” The two of you got up from the couch and went to the middle of the living room. The Motto by Drake and Lil Wayne played over the speaker, the bass shaking the whole house. Due to all the people crammed in one room, you and the mystery guy danced fairly close to each other. “Hey, what’s your name?” he yelled over the music.

“Y/N!” you shouted back. “What’s yours?”

“Noah!” Noah yelled. You nodded your head while smiling. The two of you danced while screaming the lyrics to the song. “You’re really cool, Y/N! I think we’d make great friends!”

“What do you mean? You’re stuck with me now!” You and him laughed. That’s when you spotted someone familiar pushing through the crowd. It was your boyfriend finally coming back from his search. “Conrad, hey!” You waved. “Did you find Steven?”

He completely ignored your question, his eyes set on the guy who you were dancing with. “Get away from my girl.” He stepped in front of you.

“Woah, man. We weren’t doing anything.” Noah held up his hands defensively.

“Conrad, stop!” you laughed, trying to lighten the mood. “It’s fine! We’re just chilling.”

He scoffed in response, “I recommend staying away from Y/N. We’re going home.”

“Conrad-”

“We’re going home.” He cut in.

He sounded pissed, it made your guy twist as you looked back at Noah. “Sorry about him,” you said with a frown on your face.

“Don’t stress about it, maybe I’ll see you around.” He waved bye as you got dragged out of the house by Conrad.

“What the fuck is your problem?” you yelled as the two of you left the house. “Am I not allowed to make friends now? Why don’t you ever trust me?”

He rolled his eyes, “I trust you! I just don’t trust that guy!”

You yelled, “You don’t even know him!”

“Neither do you! You don’t know what his intentions were, Y/N!” His eyes were wide with anger as he looked into yours, the veins in his neck strained. “Get in the car.” The car beeped as he unlocked the doors.

You didn’t want to cause a scene in front of everyone, so you just did as he said and got in the passenger’s seat. You folded your arms over your chest and stared out the window. He got in the driver’s seat next to you and started the car before putting it into drive mode. “Just so you know, his girlfriend cheated on him and he was by himself,” you mumbled while pouting.

“Y/N,” he said. This gave you a glimpse of hope that he’d finally listen to you, but he then followed it up by, “I don’t fucking care.”

You rolled your eyes and frowned, shaking your head. “You’re a fucking child.” He didn’t say anything, he just kept driving.

The radio quietly played music, the air was tense as you refused to look at him. He stopped the car at a red light. “Y/N, I’m sorry,” he finally spoke up. “I get really insecure, babe, and I just want everyone to know that you’re mine.”

You looked over at him, your expression softened as you said, “Connie, I’m yours.” You placed your hand over his that draped over the shift stick.

He glanced over at you and saw your innocent expression. You knew something instantly changed in him as you noticed his demeanor swiftly change. “Say that again,” he breathed.

Now it clicked. It turned him on to know that you and your body was for him and him only. You batted your lashes and smiled deviously. “I’m all yours, Connie,” you teased.

He stared at you longer, his breath slightly hitched. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. When the light turned green, he took a turn that was the opposite way of both your guys’ homes.

“Conrad?” you said, concern present in your voice. “What are you doing?”

“I’m pulling the car over so we can fuck.” Butterflies swarmed in your stomach due to the assertiveness in his voice. He pulled the car over close to the beach where there were no lights except for the car’s headlights. “You fine with that?”

You nodded your head, “Y-Yeah.” You unbuckle your seatbelt and look up at him. Conrad’s hand reached up to the side of your neck and connected his lips with yours.

He was hungry for your kiss touch. He was desperate for his hands to be all over your delicate body. He pushed into you, his tongue slowly licking the seam of your mouth, which led to a more forceful kiss. He gripped the collar of your shirt, pulling you closer.

You broke away and smirked. The anger from the argument earlier melted into lust. He slightly leaned the seat back as you climbed over the center console. You rested on his lap, your legs straddling him. He moaned as you kissed along his jaw line, then his chin before leaning down to his neck and sucking on it.

His fingers dug into your hips and pulled you closer, making sure you could feel his hardening erection against your lower body. “My… job is to make you… mhm… feel good,” he said between moans.

You pulled away, “What? I’m not allowed to be in control?” This won a chuckle out of him. “I’m kidding, go ahead. I already said I’m yours.”

He ran his fingers through your hair while biting his bottom lip. “That’s my good girl,” he husked before locking his lips to your neck.

Your back arched off his lap as he sucked harshly on your pulse point, your breathing became heavy and erratic.

Your hands found their way onto his hair as he continued working his way down your neck. You couldn’t tell who was taking control anymore; the two of you were too busy focusing completely on each other. Your body began reacting.

One of his hands came up to your hip, gripping tightly as another hand traveled to your breast. Both of his hands were touching the fabric of your shirt and caressing the skin underneath. A gasp escaped your lips as your hand found its way to his crotch. Your fingers brushed against his sensitive member, eliciting a moan out of him.

‘You like that, huh?’ you thought to yourself.

He suddenly let go of your breasts and grabbed your face gently with his hands, pulling your lips forcefully to his own. He kissed fiercely, his tongue slipping inside your mouth. He bit your lip causing you to moan, his hands moving from your face down to your ass. He started grinding against you roughly, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your entire body.

A loud moan fell from your lips as you bit your bottom lip. “Connie, just fuck me already,” you pleaded. “Stop edging!”

He chuckled, “You’re still on the pill, right?” You nodded your head eagerly. “Good.” He reached down to his pants which caused you to back up slightly. He unzipped the zipper and pulled down his boxers slightly to reveal his erection. You got up on your knees so you could pull your panties, that were soaked, off. He helped lift your skirt up and slip your panties down your thighs. Once they were off, he threw them to the car floor on the passenger’s side.

Slowly, he inserted himself in you. A gasp escaped out from you while Conrad groaned from the feeling of your warm walls. His thrusting was slow at a steady pace, you felt yourself getting wetter and wetter by the second. He placed one hand on your thigh as his free hand gripped your ass. Your breathing grew shallow as the pressure building in your body increased.

“Oh god,” you whimpered.  “Please! Connie, I need you so bad!”

He continued to work his way into you until he slammed his pelvis against yours causing him to let out a loud grunt. He rasped, “You take me so well.”

As you continued to grind against him, he let out an animalistic growl. “God, Y/N, please,” he panted. You continued to grind against him, he was close, you knew it. You bit your lip, trying to suppress the sounds that were begging to fall from your throat.

His grip on your leg tightened, causing you to cry out as a wave of pleasure that rocked through your whole body. “Connie,” you whined. “Cum for me, baby, cum inside me!”

He pounded faster and harder. You felt your walls tighten around him, squeezing his erection. As he came, you let out the loudest scream anyone has ever heard from you. You clamped your eyes shut and squeezed your thighs around his waist even harder to keep him in you.

After a few seconds you managed to open your eyes. You looked down at him and could see his face twisted in ecstasy, sweat drenched over his forehead. You felt something hot pool in the pit of your stomach. You leaned down to kiss him again before getting off him. You reached for your panties and slid them back on. “You feel better now?”

He nodded his head as he caught his breath. Both your faces were flushed red from the heat of the orgasm. After recovering from his orgasm, he smiled softly. He grabbed your hand and brought you closer to him once more, placing his lips on yours. “We should head back. It’s almost midnight. And I wanna have some fun with you somewhere more comfortable”

You giggled and kissed his cheek.

[onboardsorasora]

🎈🎊Happy Birthday Daniel! 🎉 🎈 Here is a little rainy maxiel meet cute. Also a little thing to tide us while the archive is down

Daniel raked his waterlogged hair backwards and eyed the chaos happening in front of him. The rain had come out of nowhere, falling sideways with the heavy wind. The band had stopped playing and a voice over the PA told everyone to seek shelter because of lightning.

He'd been in the grass near the back of the amphitheater. He'd lost his friends in the chaos and found a spot between the merch shop and an office. He was soaked through, his band tee sticking to him as if he'd just jumped into a pool or lake.

He giggled at how wild it was, and looked to the guy who had ducked in here with him. He was staring out at the concert goers running for cover, some were running around in the rain and laughing. He was cute, Daniel thought, with his water darkened hair and bright eyes. His white tee was transparent and Daniel quickly looked away from where his nipples were peeking through.

The guy looked over and Daniel couldn't help the smile that overtook him. It was a truly ridiculous situation. A random storm, losing his friends and now in a narrow alcove with a cute boy that also enjoys the same music he does. The same music that speaks to his soul, he wondered if this boy felt the same way about the band as he did.

“It's really fucking coming down.” Daniel shook his head, looking out at the now expanded group of people that were doing rain dances.

The boy beside him shrugged. “The weather app said there was a 60% chance of rain.” His voice was raspy, his lips pink.

Daniel giggled, he hadn't expected a meteorological response to a truly nonsensical observation. “Yeah but no one thought it was actually going to rain.” He pointed out.

“Well of course they did. The organizers should have been better prepared, I think. You could see the cell of rain before it even came close–”

“I'm Daniel.” Daniel stuck out his hand, grin still front and center, “I figured we should introduce ourselves before we start ragging on the promoters. I've been wanting to complain about how they fucked and bottlenecked admission.”

Blue eyes scrunched and pink lips widened in a smile that turned into a laugh and Daniel decided right then and there that he needed to hear it again and again for the rest of his life.

“I'm Max.” Max shook Daniel's hand, his smile now crooked but still very scrunchy.

“Max.” Daniel repeated happily. “Enchante.” Daniel kissed the back of Max's cold hand, he didn't know what came over him. But the immediate flush on Max's cheeks was completely worth it.

They talked and laughed in their little alcove, their bubble, until the rain eased up and the announcer gave a time call for the concert to resume.

Daniel bit his lip, looking out to the wet and glistening ground and the people picking their way to the seats and stage area. Everyone was soaked, wrinkly. The band started what sounded like a mini sound check. He didn't want to go, didn't want to separate from Max to go back to his friends alone. He didn't want to leave and never know Max again.

He could ask for his number or his social media, something. Something to keep in contact.

“Do you want to sit by the picnic benches and listen to the end of the concert… together?” Max asked softly, blue eyes hopeful. A slow smile bloomed on Daniel's lips and it was his turn to blush.

“Yeah. I'd love to.”

Max took his hand, clasping their clammy and pruney fingers together and lead them both from their hideaway. The breeze was cold on their wet bodies and they huddled closer.

The picnic benches were off to the side of the stage, in an intermission area. They wouldn't be able to see the stage or the visuals of the show itself, but they were mostly alone while everyone was back in their seats and the songs reverberated around them. Like their own private show.

“I didn't want to– of course I know I could have gotten your number. But, I didn't want to–” Max stumbled over his words.

“Me too.” Daniel cut him off, needing Max to know he wasn't the only one. That he felt the same. Max smiled, so lovely. Daniel needed to kiss him. And he did.

Kissing Max was like listening to all of his favorite songs on a playlist while driving on an empty road.

He clutched Max close and Max moaned softly. Daniel felt like there were fireworks going on behind his eyes. Max's lips were soft and perfect. Max was perfect.

Daniel pulled back first, barely. He stayed close, smiling dopily at Max who grinned back. The opening riffs of his favourite song started and Daniel knew he would remember this moment forever.

They were softened by the golden light of the sunset bouncing off the still wet surfaces around them. There wasn't a moment that could be more perfect than this one, Daniel thought.

“Do you, maybe, want to dance? I love this song.” Max asked softly, almost hesitantly.

There wasn't a moment more perfect than this one, Daniel mentally amended.

“This is my favourite song.” Daniel gushed, standing and pulling Max to his feet. Max laughed and grabbed Daniel closer. They swayed together in their own private annex.

Daniel looked towards to stands to see the lights in the crowd illuminating like stars. He looked back and Max who was already watching him. They kissed.