#should not... have to put in so much effort just to play a game

[thewertsearch]

On the eve of their race's extinction, the twelve heroes would begin playing a game. They would make an admirable effort, but they would fail. Their civilization had not prepared them for the rigors of this game, and the ultimate reward would fall shy of their grasp.

The trolls have done this all before - and apparently, they fucked it up real bad.

This is a very strange way for their original session to have gone. The Hivebent trolls excelled at the game, and not just because Scratch made them so bloodthirsty. Many of them were gifted with incredibly powerful abilities, which allowed them to absolutely decimate most of Sgrub's challenges. These pre-Scratch trolls are the same people as their successors, and should have the same abilities, just different upbringings.

I suppose growing up in a peaceful world might have blunted their edge a little - but at the very least, trolls like Sollux and Equius should still have been obliterating Underlings. Even if their lives on preboot!Alternia granted them zero combat experience, it shouldn't take much skill to, say, pulverize Imps with gigastrength.

Though they could not recognize it for the bad omen it was, this session was not the one in which they had been spawned.

It doesn’t sound like the original Alternian session even had a Veil sequence. That is a bad omen, because its Players still needed to be created somewhere. If they didn’t find a way to close the loop and clone themselves, it wouldn’t even matter if they won their game; They’d be trapped in a doomed timeline either way.

This explains why they really lost, then. The pre-Alternians were forced to concede defeat and reset the game, even if Sollux could slay every Underling on his own. If they didn't, they wouldn’t have existed in the first place.

Such is the symptom of a subtle glitch affecting certain sessions, an error designed to trigger an unfathomable cascade of misfortune throughout paradox space. This glitch is the calling card of the one I serve. It is the discreet, gentlemanly manner in which he reserves his place in a universe for later visitation.

This sort of forced Scratch is right up English’s alley, of course. The guy is all about inevitable failure – and of course, he’s no stranger to exploiting Sburb’s mechanics to his advantage.

The heroes, understanding their defeat was absolute, sought advice from the mother of all monsters. She offered them a choice. The heroes could either accept their defeat along with the extinction of their race, and put no others at risk. Or, she could show them a path to a second chance, to a reality in which the chosen heroes of their race would be strong enough to succeed with ease, and claim the reward. This reset would come at the cost of wiping the failed heroes from existence. They would live new lives from scratch, playing different roles in the reset reality, with no memory of the game they played or the choice they made.

Once again, a Denizen offers a choice between life and death. I think Kanaya’s analysis was entirely correct - every Choice does involve facing your own mortality.

I wonder, though, if they paid attention to Echidna's exact wording here. If they chose death, they’d put no other beings at risk – but she made no such assurances about the consequences of choosing life. This deal was a disaster for the Alternians’ entire universe, and its original Players couldn’t possibly comprehend the damage it’s already done, let alone what it'll do once English enters the building.

Also... she only promised that they’d get a chance to try again. She never promised them victory.

The more I think about this deal, the more dubious it seems. I was kind of starting to think that the Denizens were on our side, but their ultimate loyalty is to Sburb – and we already know that Sburb loves fucking with its players.

[mommyownsmee]

About how I learned to love Brats, Pillow Princess behaviour & the Art of Dominance

Recently, I’ve been thinking a lot. Something in the way I think changed.

Every Submissive always talks about being a “good girl”—doing what makes the Dom/me happy, always being obedient and eager to learn. I used to think that is the way it always has to be. Used to. For over ten years as a Domme, I thrived on that concept: A “good girl” has to follow rules and submit without hesitation. For years, I thought that was the pinnacle of submission.

But the thing about power is that it evolves. True power doesn’t stay stagnant—it grows, adapts, and deepens with experience. Over time, I’ve come to realize that submission is more nuanced than a simple checklist of behaviors. It’s raw, alive, and deeply personal. Submission isn’t about perfection. It’s really all about connection.

For years, I believed brattiness in every way always needed to be corrected. To me, it once felt like resistance, a flaw, or a rebellion that threatened the structure of the dynamic. But now, I see it differently. Now, I see it as a form of self-expression. A way for my submissive to show her fire, her confidence, and her trust in me.

Yes, trust. Because it takes trust to push boundaries. It takes trust to tease, to play, and to challenge the person who holds the power. And when my submissive does that—when she smirks and says, “Mommy, I’m the most beautiful girl in the world, aren’t I? Others must have it really hard, not being as perfect as me,” or when she pouts and demands, “Mommy, I want it because I deserve it”—I don’t see rebellion anymore.

I see confidence. I see life. I see a woman who knows her worth and isn’t afraid to own it.

And it’s sexy. Damn sexy.

Bratty behavior doesn’t weaken the dynamic. It strengthens it. It adds layers, complexity, and depth. It turns submission into a dance—a playful, sensual exchange of power where no one is truly in control except for me. And yet, her fire ignites something primal in me. It keeps me sharp, keeps me present, and keeps our connection electric.

Being a Domme for over a decade has taught me that dominance isn’t just about control. It’s about responsibility in a other way than I thought it is. It’s about seeing my submissive for who she is—not just the quiet, obedient girl who kneels perfectly at my feet, but the playful, demanding princess who knows what she deserves and isn’t afraid to say it.

Why should I suppress that part of her? Why should I try to mold her into someone different and docile when her strength and confidence are what make her so captivating?

When she teases me, when she pushes the boundaries, it’s not defiance. It’s trust. She knows I’m strong enough to handle it, to match her energy, to guide her through it without breaking her spirit. That’s the real power of dominance—not in silencing her, but in allowing her to roar, knowing I’ll hold her steady when she’s ready to submit.

That doesn’t mean she doesn’t have to put in the effort sometimes. Of course she does. Submission is a two-way street. There are moments when she needs to kneel, to focus, to give herself fully to me. But those moments don’t need to be constant. Submission isn’t about perfection—it’s about authenticity.

Some nights, she doesn't want to exert any strength. She wants to be my Pillow Princess, indulgent and adored. And why shouldn’t she? Why should she always have to work for my approval when my love for her is unconditional?

I’m the Domme. It’s my responsibility to take care of her.

When she looks at me with that confident sparkle in her eyes and says, “Mommy, I deserve to be treated like the princess I am,” not a single muscle in my face flinches—even though my heart skips a beat every time.

“Oh, is that so, my darling?” I ask, leaning forward, my voice soft but commanding. My thumb brushes over her lower lip, and I lock my gaze on hers. “Then show me how much you deserve it.”

She melts, every time. It’s a game we play, a game of confidence and submission, of power and vulnerability. She knows I’ll always win, but she also knows I love the fire in her eyes when she dares to try.

Her brattiness doesn’t threaten my dominance. It enhances it. It reminds me of why I do this—why I’ve spent over a decade mastering the art of control, not to break someone, but to guide them. To make them feel safe, cherished, and understood.

When I pull her close, kiss her hair, and promise her that she’ll get everything she deserves, it’s not just words. It’s a vow. A vow to build her up, to nurture her, and to remind her every single day that she’s mine.

And tomorrow? Tomorrow, she’ll kneel. Not just because I demand it, but because she craves and wants it. Because submission is her gift to me, and my gift to her is the freedom to express it in all its forms—bratty, playful, vulnerable, and fierce.

That’s the beauty of our dynamic. It’s not rigid or predictable. It’s alive, pulsing with energy, passion, and trust. And as her Domme, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

For me, there’s nothing more intoxicating than that.

[blirpus]

made the mistake of reading old texts with my ex 😃

its unbelievable how much shit i put up with. her being upset, me asking if theres anything i can do to make her feel better, her telling me to bring her a gun so she can end it all quickly and me fucking apologizing for making her feel that way

(this was after an argument that ensued when i left a call in panic as she started yelling at me)

[gu6chan]

maybe its sample bias but i think it's kinda funny how most people I've seen who've played drakengard because of nier are making ending e THE endgoal and more often than not the main if not only reason they're playing the game at all and when they finally get it they're like "this is it the single most impactful, greatest moment of all gaming. im wiping tears from my eyes this is it" and then you see the drakengard fans who've played drakengard because they like drakengard and you ask them about ending e and they're like "eh. it was okay, i guess"

[alteredphoenix]

As glad as I am that BG3 is being positively received, I hope subsequent patches later on down the road allow you to establish friendships with your companions and allow you the option to leave them at just that while giving you to be able to pursue beyond them into consensual romance, because if I ever get around to trying it out for myself I am not going to look forward to having my PC get sexually harassed over and over and over again until the NPC finally takes no for an answer and backs off.

[steviescrystals]

i’m fr gonna lose my mind :)

[heavenlyraindrops]

☆ “ɪ’ᴍ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ɢᴏᴏᴅ.” | ᴋᴇɴᴊɪ ꜱᴀᴛᴏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ☆

☆ She said “fuck me like I’m famous”| Chapter one

☆ Warnings: fem!reader, afab!reader, oral (f receiving), fingering, awkward!reader, reader is literally a hermit, no established relationship, not proofread, porn with like a drop of plot, they get slightly awkward after doing it but it’s ok <3 ☆ Word Count: 3.3k | Available on Tumblr & AO3

“Out? For dinner?”

You tore your eyes from your phone to look at Ami, who was watching Chiho roll around on the floor, immersed in whichever new game of pretend she had devised.

“Yes, dinner,” she repeated, then turned to look at you. “I’m meeting a… friend. Not a close one, but a friend nonetheless. And it would do you some good to meet new people, and to get out more.” She raked her eyes over you, from your baggy clothes to messy updo. 

“What’s that meant to mean? I get out plenty often. I’m out right now with you, aren’t I?”

“‘Chilling out’ at my house twice every week isn’t exactly going out, [name],” she sighed, rolling her eyes as she stood up, stepping towards the kitchen. “You’re like a hermit.”

You furrowed your brows together. “Maybe that’s how I like it.”

You heard water trickling as it filled up her glass, and her voice drift down towards where you were sitting. “I tend to wonder if I’m your only friend.”

At those words you stiffened, eyes opening wide and shooting up, back straight. “What? Friends?” You spluttered. “I have friends. I have plenty of friends. You’re not my only friend.” The words tumbled out of you hastily, and then you paused, flashing her a charming smile, trying to distract her. “You’re just my favourite one!”

She rolled her eyes as she sat back down. “Well, you have awful taste.” She handed you a drinks can. Your favourite.

“Hardly,” you uttered

“Just- you focus on work too much, okay? You need to find balance.” She took your palm, uncurling your fingers and placing the cold can in your hand. “Just come to this dinner.”

“…Fine.” You dug your finger under the tab, trying to get it open. “Who even is this friend, anyways?”

“Kenji Sato.”

You stared at her.

She must have mistaken your silence and blank stare for shock, or stupor instead of a reaction to what you considered to be an underwhelming statement, because she just sat back, letting her words sink in. They did, not that they meant much to you.

“Who?” You said blankly.

She blinked, then leaned forward. “Uh, Ken Sato? The really famous baseball player?”

You took a slow sip of the drink- the carbonation danced on your tongue. “No idea who that is. I don’t follow baseball.”

“You don’t follow anything,” she pointed out. “You’re completely out of the loop.”

You threw your hands in the air, exasperated. “Just- look, is he someone I should be impressed with? Like, am I-“

“I’ve mentioned him once,” Ami cut in. “Played in the States, moved to Japan suddenly? I was wondering why, and mentioned it to you?” She narrowed her eyes. “Unless you weren’t listening.”

“No no, I was,” you said quickly, then frowned, furrowing your brow. “Wait, didn’t you interrogate him, once? Twice?”

“Thrice,” she corrected you. “And it's called an interview, not an interrogation.”

“Same thing,” you said indignantly, with another gulp of ice cold carbonated sugar. “And you’re sure he’s just a friend.” You eyed her, testing her for any telltale signs on her face suggesting otherwise.

She simply stared at you, unimpressed. “Yes.”

“Okay,” you said, stretching out the vowel, rolling it along your tongue. You stopped. “Okay, fine, I’ll come to your dinner thing.”

“Yes!” She said, sounding a bit too relieved. You stared at her. “Sorry, it’s just- I’m so glad you’re finally-“ she cut off with an excited, pleased noise. 

You looked at her, concern for yourself creeping into your expression. “Am I really that-“

“Yes,” she said without hesitation. “Now, please put some effort into your appearance tomorrow night-“

“Tomorrow night?”

“Yes, do you have plans?” She didn’t wait for an answer, because she already knew it. “No? Thought so. Please put some effort into your appearance tomorrow night, because it’ll be worth it.”

“Uh huh,” you said slowly.

“I wonder if you even remember how to behave in a social setting,” she mused, and you smacked her shoulder. 

That night when you got home and flopped down on your bed, pulling out your phone, your finger hovered over the search bar.

What was his name?

Kenji Sato.

You were typing in the words before you even realized it, and seeing the images, you froze.

Oh. 

Shoving down any sort of deranged thoughts that could have been formulating in your head, you buried your face into your pillow and tried to fall asleep.

-

“[name]!”

“Ami!” You stuttered. Ami came towards you, eyes lighting up as she took in your appearance.

“You look really different,” she said, taking in your appearance. “Really pretty.”

You didn’t often wear clothes that were form-fitting or flattered your figure, but you’d decided that since it was a dinner with basically a celebrity, you might as well have put in some extra effort into your looks. 

“Thanks,” you said, as she led you through the restaurant doors and to your table. Pausing, she turned to look at you. 

“You look sick,” she frowned. “And nervous.” She clicked her tongue. “Maybe this really was a bad idea. I should have know you can’t handle-“

“No!” You almost burst out. “No, I mean, I can do this. It’s not that big a deal. I’m just meeting a new person, right?” 

She nodded hesitantly, still frowning at you.

“Right. So, not a big de-“

“Hey, Ami.”

You froze, shoulders stiffening.

“Kenji.” Ami turned to him. You still hadn’t looked at him yet, eyes fixed desperately on Ami’s face. “This is [name]. Name, this is-“

“Ken Sato.” He held out his hand to you, to shake. You stared at his long fingers, then slowly looked up to his face. He was wearing this easy, charming grin. Your knees almost buckled. “I’m sure you’ve heard of me.”

You grabbed his hand and shook it. “N-nice to meet you.” You both held your stare a few seconds longer than you needed to. 

He raised a dark brow, and you could have sworn his expression had flickered with amusement before he turned back to Ami. “And here I was worried I was late.” He waved you both on towards the table, where you took your seats.

Ami was looking at you, frowning. You gave her a wobbly smile back. 

Oh, fuck this.

-

“So, what did you say you work as, [name]?” 

Kenji’s voice snapped you out of your haze, and you looked up at him, eyes widening. “Oh, I’m an, uh, I’m an author.” You stared hard at your food, then looked back up at him to gauge his reaction. 

He just leaned back against his chair. “Cool.” His eyes were set on yours. You flushed. “What sort of stuff do you write?”

“Uh,” your eyes slid to Ami, who was looking at you expectantly. “Romance, mostly.” The confession made your cheeks burn but you were too much of a mess to lie smoothly, not that it had even occurred to you in the first place- and Ami would have teased you about it later.

But Kenji just formed a small ‘o’ with his mouth, then smirked. “That’s cute.”

“Is it?” You had to fight to not make your voice sound like a squeak. He just nodded, taking a bite of his food like it was nothing. 

He’d said it so casually that Ami hadn’t even noticed, instead pouring herself more of her drink and commenting on how Kenji had healed up. You blinked, confused, and turned as he held his arm out, flexing it.

“Yeah, quicker than I thought,” he said. You could see the faint outline of his muscles through the fabric and were so prepared to just jump out the window, then and there. He must have caught you staring because, without turning his head, he locked eyes with you and fucking winked.

You bit your lip, rubbing your thighs together and trying to ignore every instinct in your body screaming at you to throw yourself across the table. “You got hurt?”

He dropped his arm back to his side, rolling his shoulder. “Yeah. It’s fine now though.”

You didn’t press any farther, just eating your food in flushed silence, trying to ignore the burning you could feel in between your thighs. 

-

“How’d you get here, [name]?” Ami asked. You stared desperately at your phone screen.

“Cab,” you muttered, rubbing your hand on the back of your neck. The app was empty. “But there aren’t any available.”

You checked the time. Half past eleven. You shivered, the night air biting at your skin. Ami looked at you, concerned. “Should I drop you?”

“No. No.” Guilt ate away at your gut. “No, you need to get home to Chiho, and I’m in the completely opposite direction- it’s not worth it.” You stepped back, and you could feel Kenji look over your shoulder at your screen. He leaned down to your level, breath warm on your ear. You shivered again, but not from the cold. “I’ll just wait until something shows up.”

“What’s your address?” He tilted his face slightly towards you, before pulling away. You stared at him, then frowned at him slightly, opening your mouth to reply, but Ami cut in.

“Look, I-“ she glanced at her watch. “I really need to go.” She pursed her lips. “I’m sorry, [name].”

You waved her off. “Don’t be.”

And she was gone, her car rolling off. You looked back at Kenji, and quickly tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, mumbling your address.

He tapped something into his phone, and his face twisted into a satisfactory grin. “It’s on the way to mine. So I’ll just drop you.” He started walking down the street.

You stumbled after him. “Oh- are you- are you sure?”

He turned, walking backwards, in the same direction but facing you know as he shrugged, grinning. “Why not? Better than waiting around in the cold for a ride.”

“R-right.” 

He led you to where a motorbike was parked, and you blinked. “You rode here on a motorcycle?”

He shrugged his blue biker’s jacket off, and without warning, draped it over your shoulders. “Yeah. Surprised?”

“I… don’t know.” Your face was burning at the action. “Are you sure…” you fiddled with the hem of his jacket.

He waved his hand at it dismissively. “Take it. You look cold.”

You fell silent. Then: “I don’t have a helmet.”

He reached into a compartment, pulling one out. “Spare. For situations like this, I guess. Comes in handy.”

“Situations like this?” You echoed, as he stepped towards you, setting the helmet down over your head and fastening it tight. Your heart was going a million miles a minute.

“When I have to make sure a pretty girl like you gets home, obviously,” he said casually, but the look on his face betrayed his nonchalant tone. He clambered onto the bike. “Come on, then. Get on.”

You blinked, face burning even harder than before, but did as he told you to. 

-

“Thanks. For taking me home, I mean.” 

He looked up at you as you pulled the helmet off your head, imitating the action himself. A strand of hair fell in front of his forehead. “Don’t think about it,” he shrugged, and your grip on the helmet tightened as you clutched it to your chest. 

“Oh, but I will.” You dropped your voice to a husky whisper, and watched his jaw clench. Oh thank you god, I remember how to flirt. Kind of. 

Now it was his turn to become flustered, as he gave you another grin, shaky this time. “Really?” He asked, voice hoarse. You stepped back, towards your house.

“You should come inside,” you suggested. “It’s not that late.”

He raised his eyebrow. “It’s almost midnight,” he laughed, but didn’t object to your offering, licking his lips nervously. You paused your walk up towards your front door, turning and looking at him expectantly. 

“Oh, fuck this,” he muttered, abandoning the bike and walking towards you. Your stomach exploded into a flurry of butterflies as you both hurried towards your front door. 

-

You bit back a whimper as his lips crashed onto yours, kissing you with a hunger you hadn’t been met with before. The door hadn’t even shut before his hands were on your waist, dragging you close to him- and then it was, and he pinned you against it, your back pressing into the ridges of the wood. 

He pulled away, both of your breathing ragged as he pressed his forehead against yours, eye contact unwavering. He cursed under his breath. “Sorry- I should have- I should have asked.”

You were barely able to move your mouth, shaking your head lightly. “It’s fine,” you breathed, and his eyes flicked back down to your lips, grip on your waist tightening. “You didn’t have to.”

“God, you’re-“ he choked on his own words. “You’re pretty.” 

You didn’t have time to respond before his mouth was capturing yours again, heat burning all over as one of his hands wandered to grip your nape, holding you steady. His teeth grazed your lip and you gasped, but he pulled away, pressing kisses all the way down your jaw and collarbone, leaving a trail of blooming bruises in his wake. His other hand fell from your waist to hip, pressing you close up against him, and heat pooled in your core. 

“Ken,” you managed to whisper weakly through the dizzying haze clouding your mind. He paused, teeth pressed against your skin, and he leaned back up to you, ghosting his lips over the shell of your ear, humming. “Are you sure this is a g-good idea?” Your voice was shaking. He frowned, pulling away, and his fingers dug into your hips. 

“Why wouldn’t it be?” His voice was husky with desire, eyes trained on your every movement. You could feel his breath on your skin. You opened your mouth, searching for a reason, but couldn’t find any. He trailed his fingers down your neck, brushing over the marks, to the collar of your top, tugging at it. “Come on.”

You stumbled after him, shedding the jacket, ignoring it as it fell to the floor, and he pulled you down onto the couch with him, hands on your waist. You fell into his lap, straddling him. He grinned. “Still can’t find a reason?”

“…No.”

“Then just relax,” he told you, lips still pressed against your jaw, fingers creeping beneath the hem of your top. “Because I’m about to make you feel really good.”

At his words you bit back a moan, sucking in a harsh breath as you bit your lip, involuntarily rolling your hips against him. He hissed, tipping his head back. You were certain his hands were going to leave marks everywhere they touched, feeling them dig into your hips as you dove onto his neck, suckling and biting, anything to repay the affection he’d shown you earlier.

His hand fisted your hair, gently but firmly tugging you back and away. “Stop it,” he hissed. “Just let me do my thing, okay?”

You looked at him, confused, and slightly hurt, until he quickly pressed a reassuring kiss to your lips. “I said I’d make you feel good, so just sit back and let me, got it?”

You didn’t argue with him, not when he flipped you around so that your back was pressed against the couch, or when he sank to his knees, pushing your legs open, letting out a shaky breath as your skirt hiked right up your thighs. 

He let out a breathless laugh. “You’re wet,” he teased, his hot breath hitting your skin. He pressed a chaste kiss to your inner thigh, making you shiver, then another, each one lasting longer before the one before, leaving marks littering all over your inner thighs. You bit your lip- the mere sight of his face in between your legs was enough to get you dripping, even more than you were before, and he seemed to notice, because he let out an amused chuckle.

“Wh-what?” Your voice was broken, and hitched when he pressed his thumb to your clothed clit, sending a jolt of pleasure into your cunt. He smirked at your reaction. 

“Nothing,” he murmured, hooking his fingers around the waistband of your soaked panties, tugging them slowly down your legs. Your teeth pressed down on your bottom lip harder. His eyes flicked up to meet your expression. “What? Nervous?” 

You didn’t reply, just shaking, and he let out a slow breath, pressing his lips back against your inner thigh as his expression softened. “Don’t be, baby.” His lips curled back into his signature grin. “I told you you could relax, remember?”

You flushed, and nodded.

Without warning, he dove in, lips pressing down on your clit. You whimpered, not even enough time to react before his tongue licked a long strip up your entrance, making you twitch and spasm, throbbing pleasure aching. Your legs instinctively pulled together but he forced them back apart, tongue tracing slow patterns across your bundle of nerves, eyes hooded with lust as he watched your flinch and gasp. 

You let out a broken whimper of his name, and felt him tense under you- but he didn’t stop his movements, slipping his tongue in between your folds, stretching you out with his fingers. You bucked your hips, but he grabbed your hip with his other hand, pinning you down to keep you from moving. “Shhh,” he whispered, his low voice sending vibrations into your core. You let out a desperate moan- it took everything in you to not desperately start grinding against his face. He chuckled slightly at your pitiful state, turning his attention back to your dripping cunt, slipping a finger inside. Your back arched, hand flying to your mouth to clamp over it. A finger slipped inside, curling to hit that sweet spot- you almost saw stars.

“Oh fuck,” you gasped, screwing your eyes shut. “I think I’m gonna cum-“

He simply hummed at your words, the vibrations of his voice sending another shockwave through you, lapping at you like he was hungrier than before, fingers pumping in and out at a steady pace. You knew what he was saying.

Go on. Cum. 

And you did, a broken cry of his name slipping past your lips as the orgasm crashed over you, legs shaking as he drew out your high for as long as possible. And when you finally came down he pushed himself up, towards you, capturing your lips in another feverish kiss. 

You could see the shaky movements of his chest as he breathed heavily, feel his boner pressed up against you, his face flushed and burning to the touch. You pulled away. 

“Are you… shoud I…” You reached for his zipper, despite the fact your voice was heavy with fatigue but he just shook his head, laughing breathlessly.

“No, no, I… don’t worry about me.” He cleared his throat, tugging at the collar of his shirt. “I’ll just- where’s the bathroom?”

“Down the corridor, first door on the left,” you mumbled, slumping back. He stood up, adjusting your head on the couch.

“Okay, I’ll- I’ll be right back.”

You heard his footsteps hurry away and the door shut.

You didn’t realize how much time had passed, with you laying on the couch, drifting in and out of consciousness, when you heard his footsteps approach you again. You looked up at him drowsily.

“Hey.” Your voice was barely audible. “You should stay here for the night.”

He opened his mouth, but didn’t object, even when you waved him over to lay next to you. You settled on top of him, laying your head on his chest. His arm looped around your waist. 

“[name],” he muttered. You lifted your head. “Is this just a… one time thing?”

You tilted your head. “Do you want it to be?”

He frowned, then shook his head. “No. No, I don’t.”

You smiled. “Me neither.”

☆ A/N: visit either the first tag or the pinned post to find the other chapters!

[xo-adeline]

"To change for you..."

⋆°• ☁︎ - Things the Blue Lock boys do after picking it up from you Feat. Michael Kaiser, Isagi Yoichi, Nagi Seishiro, Shidou Ryusei, and Rin Itoshi

AN: I have the freaking cutest idea for a Wakasuki fanfic but nobody knows him and it's so sad...

Michael Kaiser ⋆°• ☁︎ - Listening to certain songs that he knows you like when he’s traveling

He never realized that he would have missed you this much when he was traveling. For the few months that he was still back in Germany with you, the thoughts of traveling had crossed his mind many times, and with a scoff and the thoughts that he used to do it alone all the time pushed the ideas to the back of his brain, well until now; Now when he was sitting on the Bastard München bus on the way to the PXG stadium for their next match, the long, almost 14-hour, bus ride they had, and every second since he had been on that bus, he missed you. Not that he would ever admit that to anybody, including you. So what better way than to either A. attempt to text you, But that sounded desperate, or B. do something that reminded him of you. And with his limited options, he scrolled his phone to find something that could bring him back to the thought of you, even if you weren’t there with him. To which that’s when he found it. A couple of weeks ago you had stolen his phone, saying that you were just looking at the weather, but rather, you knew he had a Spotify account and only listened to the songs he wanted to, so you put together a playlist for him of some songs you think he should listen to, including some of your favorites. He couldn’t help but give a little smile when he saw the playlist cover being a picture of the two of you at one of his previous games, and within no time he pressed the play button and started to listen through the songs, thoughts of you running through his head matching up with every song lyric.

Isagi Yoichi ⋆°• ☁︎ - Using more creative insults on the field after you used them against him

It all started a couple weeks after you had started dating and you got into a little spat about where to go for dinner, him trying to be nice and let you decide and you being indecisive and pushing it back on him. All going relatively nicely until you turned around and said:

“You decide, you wet noodle! I can’t pick.”

And he stood there for a second, a little surprised. A wet noodle? That wasn’t something you heard every day. So he let out a slight chuckled and picked a place he knew you would like and the two of you went there for dinner that night. The same thing with a couple other insults had happened a few times, being called a multitude of other things, and even hearing you’d snide comments sometimes about how you hoped that a person that cut you off in traffic ‘stepped into a puddle with only socks on.’

Now with these thoughts inside his head, and Barou running his mouth he could only turn towards him and give a dirty glare before pulling this out of his pocket:

“I hope you’re sleeves slide down while you’re washing your hands.”

Before turning back around and heading anywhere else in the building where he wasn’t. To which the rest of the people standing there could only look surprised, the same guy who called Barou much worse, just wished a minor inconvenience on him? What was happening?

Nagi Seishiro ⋆°• ☁︎ - Showing a little more effort rather than just in scoring goals

Reo could only look confused at the white-haired man as he was actually trying on some of the new training regiments given to them by Chris Prince. Even when he looked over to the coach, he looked a little shocked. It wasn’t that Nagi didn’t try, it’s that he had never tried this hard before. He did everything just enough for it to be acceptable and then move on with his life, well that was until he saw how hard you worked for things. He never understood why people worked hard until you had come home with a good grade on your test, the same test he had watched you work for hours and hours trying to study the material and cram into your head before you had to take it. The way that you smiled and were so excited that the work you did paid off gave him this spark of inspiration that he needed to see what it was like to train hard and then have that achievement pay off in the end. So when he went back to practice, he tried harder than he ever did before, even earning a couple comments asking if he was okay, or if he was dying and trying a little harder was his dying wish. All of which he responded a simple ‘no’ to before walking off to get water or work on something else. The only person who could actually figure out the truth was Reo, who had asked him if it had something to do with you. He just shrugged and nodded.

“They came home all happy one time because they studied hard and got a good grade and I wanted to know what that felt like… They clung onto me for a whole 15 minutes after… and I liked it so maybe If I do good I can do that to them..”

Reo could only laugh a little as he watched Nagi walk away. He would definitely have to send you a thank you card, Chris Prince’s signature in there as well as he had tried to ask Nagi the same question and it totally backfired.

Shidou Ryusei ⋆°• ☁︎ - Trying to settle arguments with words instead of his foot

The famous fighter, Shidou Ryusei, was actually trying to have a conversation. Nobody ever thought there would be a day. Well, except for one person, you. The same person who had told him off a multitude of times that he can’t just hurt people whenever he was pissed off at them, and there were much better ways to go about it. Even after days of him trying to get you to see his side of it, and you already, after hearing his explanation a few weeks ago, deeming it not the best way to settle things. So here he was now, putting his ego aside to make sure that Loki or Ego didn’t have to call you for the 4th time this week to try to get him to behave and attempt to try to not kick Rin square in the face after he stole a goal from him. Even Loki was surprised when Shidou was about to raise his foot, just to stop himself, mutter something, and then turn to Rin, attempting to try and talk it out. The first thought in everybody's mind, was this even Shidou? After Rin had walked away from him Loki came jogging over to him and trying to make sure he was okay.

“Ya’ I’m fine, jus’ the pretty thing back home ya’ always have to call told me to get my shit together, so I’m tryin’ talk it out with lower lashes.”

Loki looked surprised, I mean he knew from talking to you before that you were close with Shidou, but little did he know that you basically had the man wrapped around you’re finger. They’ve been trying to get him to talk something out for the entire time he was in Blue Lock, but he leaves for a few days and comes back a whole new person? The staff would be sending you thank you cards, as well as a small gift instead of having to pay the hospital bills from anybody else Shidou would’ve sent.

Rin Itoshi ⋆°• ☁︎ - Trying to be a little nicer to others

The world must have stopped turning and we were all gonna die. That was the only thing Isagi could think after he heard Rin actually complimenting somebody. Was it a backhanded compliment? Absolutely, but did he still say something nice to Nanase, yes. Isagi could only stare in shock as he walked over to him next, ready to be degraded or ignored for anything he did, until Rin stopped, cursing under his breath.

“You’re a shitty person, but at least you can score a decent goal..”

The world stopped, he was sure of it. There was no way the Rin Itoshi, had just come up to him and told him he could score a decent goal. So when he stood there a little confused Rin couldn’t help but curse a little more.

“This isn’t because I like you. It’s because I like my partner. Got it?”

And with that he headed off again, going who knows where.

Thought he didn’t learn the fully story until much later on when Shidou had been talking about it Charles and he had overheard. Apparently, Rin’s partner had been pretty upset when they realized that he was pretty mean overall, and wanted him to at least attempt being nicer, so the next time he saw somebody he knew he at least tried to give them a compliment, just attempting to make his partner a little less upset with him.

Isagi knew that it was just a little thing, but lord, he was sure that if Rin would go around complimenting other people, if you asked for the world to burn, he would set it on fire just so you wouldn’t be upset.

[ceesimz]

matters of the heart

the first time dealing with Alexia after a loss doesn't go how you expect. (angst -> comfort/fluff)

There was something that one of Alexia’s friends had said to you, a passing comment in a conversation that was probably meant as a joke, which you had forgotten about entirely. Until it suddenly became the most relevant information of your life one evening, maybe even the statement that your whole relationship rode on like a lifeline.

“Hey, Ale.” You started softly once your relatively new girlfriend had answered your call. She was hundreds of miles away in another country in Europe, having just lost a game that none of the Barcelona players could have expected. You didn’t get more than a grunt as a greeting. “How are you?”

“What question is that.” The blonde scoffed quietly, speaking to you with a harshness that you had never been on the receiving end of before. “I feel like shit. I’m embarrassed and sick to my stomach with anger, how’s that?”

“O-okay.” You replied with a frown, caught off-guard by her unfamiliar behaviour and entirely unsure where to go from here.

‘Alexia always takes defeats personally, I wouldn’t go near her if I was paid to after she loses.’

“Sorry. I do not mean to be so… rude.” She sighed, though the apology sounded rather forced and not really that genuine.

“It’s okay. You’re allowed to be annoyed, it was a hard game.” You smiled sadly. She was silent on the other side of the line, using up all her defiance to not scoff at your empty words. In the moment of quiet, you could hear the distant sounds of cars passing by. “Where are you?”

“The balcony. Won’t sleep tonight and I don’t want to get into bed yet.” All her replies were blunt and curt, it already felt like you were fighting a losing battle. But you did what you thought you should do, what every good girlfriend would do in the same situation, and carried on. 

“I can stay on the phone with you if you’d like tonight. We can talk until you get tired, you don’t have to sit outside in the cold alone all night. It’ll make you feel worse.” 

The conversation continued in much the same way, with you saying things and hardly receiving more than a sentence at a time from Alexia. When your patience couldn’t handle it much longer, you moved onto different topics, discussing your day and your friends and your family, thinking it might be helping her.

In this situation, you felt like a fish out of water. Football was an entirely different world than yours, you would never know what it was like to lose such a high profile game like the one Alexia was so distraught over, so you really had no idea what to do. All you could do was try and hope your efforts were appreciated. 

They weren’t. You were fighting a losing battle and had been from the second you decided to call her.

“I’m so sorry about the result tonight.” You said after there was yet another awkward silence. Maybe you should have hung up already, put her out of her misery that this phone call was, but the idea that Alexia was sitting alone and going over how much she loathed herself and the world in that moment wasn’t something you were comfortable with.

“Yeah, well, we deserved it. I deserved it. I had no awareness, my decision making was too slow, my passes were terrible. The way we played today, we should have all three European titles taken from us.” 

You hadn’t been together all that long, but you had never once heard her speak with such… vitriol before. She spat her words out like they disgusted her to utter them, each sentence laced with heavy disdain, almost entirely directed at herself.

Almost.

“A loss isn’t a failure, Ale. Everything happens for a reason.” 

She laughed at your words, a spiteful and venomous sound that was so sharp, it spiked a feeling of anxiety within you. However, it paled in comparison to what she did next.

“Everything happens for a reason, hm? You really believe that?” The blonde tutted and muttered in Catalan under her breath. Just as you went to reply, to back up your point and try to talk her down from the mountain of loathing she found herself on, she cut you off. “That is a stupid thing to say. It’s not true, it’s bullshit. A pathetic, empty bit of encouragement that works as well as a slap to the face. What do you want me to do with that? You, you think that will help me process this loss? To get over it so you can have me in a better mood, where I’m not complaining and being depressing about a football game? The most important thing in my life?”

The most important thing in her life. Football. You already knew that, but it didn’t make it any less difficult to hear her actually admit it.

“I didn’t mean t-” Your attempt to defend yourself from the fire of shame raging inside of her was futile. She didn’t care about anything except the fury coursing through her veins. 

“This is so stupid. There is no good that comes from losing like we did today, it was a failure. I’m done with this, I’m going to bed.” 

The tone that sounded after she hung up circled through your mind as you sat there, frozen, with your phone still at your ear.

If you were clueless beforehand, it was nothing compared to now. In a slight daze, your head spinning from the conversation that had just occurred, you pressed onto Alexia’s contact again. This time only to send a few messages. All of which went unread, and would for the rest of the night.

You went about your evening absentmindedly afterwards, a strange floating, mindless feeling consuming you. You weren’t entirely sure if you had just witnessed the end of your relationship or not. That thought set you off spiralling, yet you weren’t present in your overthinking. It happened without your knowledge, like you were merely a passenger to the kamikaze journey your anxiety sent you on. 

You made dinner, but you didn’t remember doing so. You changed your bedsheets, you don’t remember picking the set you put on. You brushed your teeth and did your skincare, you got into bed unsure if you’d washed it all off or not. You sent more texts to Alexia, though this time with the absence of two blue ticks under your message engraved onto your eyelids. You fell asleep, and you remember the distinct lack of love in your heart as you did so.

—

Every member of the team woke up the next day feeling worse for wear after the gruelling game and hard-to-take loss the day before, but everybody noticed how truly broken Alexia was. Nobody dared to approach her and ask how she was, the headphones glued to her ears more than enough warning for people to keep their distance. 

She was, very clearly, disconnected from her life. Stuck in her own mind, rehashing every fuck-up she had made and what lecture to give to her own team when they trained the next day. They feared her and the venom on her tongue, waiting to be unleashed upon the first person that might breathe too loudly in her vicinity.

Not one of them knew her first victim was her own girlfriend.

You did though, of course. But nobody else, not your friends, family, or even Alexia's family. Instead, you had to carry the burden of being your girlfriend's burden around on your own.

By the sounds of it, you were nothing but a distraction. Just another thing on her very hectic plate that she had to worry about. Answering your call the night before was merely a chore for her. And that stung.

From your very first date with her, when you initially learnt about her job and the chaos it entailed, you made it known that you would be there for her when she needed it. However, you also said, which Alexia frowned at and vehemently denied, that if the relationship was ever putting strain on her, you would rather she end it than carry on unhappily.

Since she didn't agree back then, you wished for nothing more than for her to end it before she hated you anymore. All night long, you considered doing it for her... but you were known for making some brash decisions whilst stuck in a spiral of overthinking, so you hung on a little longer. Thank god that you did.

It wasn't easy, not in the slightest. Sometimes, things get harder before they get easier.

Alexia's fury heightened infinitely when she got back to her apartment to find it empty. It lacked you. The pair of you agreed that you would be there to greet her when she got back to Barcelona, win, lose, or draw. What she didn't comprehend, when she realised you weren't there, was that she wasn't angry, she was mentally exhausted. From the match, the hangover of the horrors of the Olympics in the summer and that scarring penalty miss, from the argument the previous night, from everything in her life, personal and professional. Whether she could admit it to herself or not, you not being there when she needed you the most was unknowingly the catalyst to her breaking down. 

It came a little delayed though; she was overwhelmed with her feelings, an experience she never coped well with, and she didn't know what to do with them all. So, she did what she did best, and shut herself off from everybody around her.

Or, at least, she tried.

For both of you, the couple days that followed were a blur. Alexia returned to training the next day, and you went to work. You continued with your lives as if the other never even existed. It was radio silence between you. Not one text, one call, nothing.

 Alexia, ashamed of her actions and not brave enough to admit the full extent of the turmoil she was going through. You, embarrassed by your efforts and afraid that getting in touch with her would result in much the same way it did a few nights prior. No part of you was ready to hear her definitively and the relationship, even though that wasn't the case at all, so not talking to her at all was, in your honest (and wrong) opinion, the only feasible option.

Listening to her reveal that you weren't part of her future was something you'd always feared. Being with Alexia had been so different to any other relationship you’d been in, and that’s because she was unlike anyone you had ever come across. The moment you met her eye as you walked into the restaurant on that first date, where she looked so excited and enamoured by the sight of you even from afar, you were certain she was the one. And she proved that by being an exemplary partner, if not more, each and every day you had been together so far.

You could be your complete, authentic self in her presence, something you had never felt comfortable doing in past relationships. Being without her for a few days, you were lost. You didn’t know what to do, didn’t know where this left you both, where to go from here. You didn’t know if things could be recovered or not.

But, some miles away in the same city, there was a certain Spaniard that loathed herself for treating you in such a way. The hate she felt, it was more than what she’d feel after missing a penalty or having a poor game or when she got injured. This was incomparable to anything she had ever experienced, because of you. She had pushed you away when she needed you most- perhaps the most idiotic thing she could ever do. 

All the emotions running rampant through her nervous system went a lot deeper than one loss. It was an amalgamation of so many things, and instead of handling them like an adult, like the role model everybody thought of her as, she let everything build up until it became too much to control. It was wreckless of her, completely and utterly wreckless. And careless. 

For the first day or two of training after the game that caused all this, everyone at the club could tell there was something not quite right with her. But, given the result, they gave her space, knowing she would bounce back with somehow more determination than she’d ever had before. The only thing is, that didn’t happen. 

Day three passed, she was still not herself. And on day four, none of them could take it anymore, they just didn’t know where to start. Out of everybody on the team, there was only one person who could talk some sense into her. That person just didn’t expect the sight she’d walk in on after coming back to the locker room once she had finished her lunch.

“Ale?”

The blonde flinched slightly at the unexpected voice where she was sat at her cubby, head deep in her phone. Irene stood at the door, concern evident on her face as Alexia sniffled and hastily brushed away the tears on her face. On her screen, your contact, your chat. Her fingers found themselves hovering over the keyboard, not knowing where on earth to start to reach out to you again, and she dropped the device to the bench below her in defeat when her friend walked in.

“What is up with you, hm? You are not quite right.” Irene stated gently, making her way over and sitting beside Alexia.

“Some things.” Alexia replied, resisting the urge to roll her eyes when Irene scoffed lightly, knowing she couldn’t escape the incoming, persistent pressing.

“Come on. It cannot be the loss the other day, it doesn’t affect you for this long.” The taller woman said, putting a hand on Alexia’s shoulder and squeezing reassuringly.

“I just… everything is so much, all the time. I don’t really know what to do with it all.” Alexia began with a sigh, her hand falling to the dainty gold bracelet on her left wrist you had bought her only a few weeks ago that had been glued to her wrist ever since. “And I have ruined my relationship.”

“What? No, I am sure you haven’t, Ale, you-”

“Trust me, I have.” She laughed in spite of herself, shaking her head in disappointment that was aimed entirely at herself. 

“Well, what happened?” Irene questioned with a frown. Alexia sighed, again, and she slumped forward a little so that her elbows were on her knees and her head was in her hands. 

After that, she relayed everything that had happened during the past few days to Irene. Her friend sat there with no judgement, listening intently to every detail Alexia told her. The midfielder couldn’t help it, whenever Irene checked in with her, it took very little for it all to come spilling out. Irene was wise, always had been, and had always been a shoulder to cry on for the younger Spaniard. Her advice was something Alexia treasured, as well as her ability at never failing to knock some sense into her. This occasion was just another example of that.

“You just have to talk to her. She is probably upset at how she couldn’t help you more than being angry at your attitude. She will not be too happy about that too, obviously, but you know her well and I know her a little, but enough to know that about her. She is smart, and loves you. All you need to do is let her know you love her too, through anything because I know you do, and apologise. Say how you really feel, the rest will follow.” 

It might be obvious advice, but to Alexia, there’s too much anxiety for her to think clearly. She doubted herself too much, fully believed there wasn’t any way for her to come back. So, what did she do after her chat with Irene?

Nothing. 

Until late that night, when you were already in bed, eyelids drooping shut as tears still escaped and dampened your pillow. 

One thing, the only thing, that Alexia wished she could change about you was the way you thought of yourself. That had been something that tore her heart a little to hear, especially so early on when you tried to get her to promise to break up if things got too tough for her. From the way you spoke about yourself, how you made it sound like you were only a small part of her life, you would force her to choose football over you if it came down to it. She wouldn’t stand for it. She'd sooner be six feet under than break up with you.

You believed you were just an add-on to her life, the latter not being affected by you coming or going. If you left, you knew she'd have a million other things to keep her company, keep her distracted. Or, the next person in the queue would slip into her bed and, subsequently, into Alexia's world as a whole. It'd be as if you'd never existed in the first place. And Alexia hated nothing more on earth than that knot of insecurity you had. 

You were so much more than just an add-on, you were the other half of her. In her previous relationships, she didn’t think of her and whoever she was with as one single thing. There was her, and her partner. She loved them, maybe, and she liked spending time together. But when it came to life decisions and future plans, she still always thought of… just herself. She put herself first, decided everything to do with her life, solely for her own good. Then you came along.

The second she realised that she factored you into everything she did, whether that be picking up dinner on the way home or looking for a new apartment, that���s when she knew you were the one. It had happened naturally, without her even noticing, until one night she was on the plane back from the USA in the summer, flicking through photos of a flat that her sister had sent her, when she wondered to herself if you’d like it too.

She knew the side of you that could overthink and ruminate on every little thing and roll it like a snowball on the ground into something much bigger, and in the end the guilt she felt knowing that you were most likely at home, alone, doing exactly that? It was enough to convince her to head over, hours after she should have when she got home from training earlier.

It was midnight when she pulled up outside your apartment complex with a bit of haphazard and slightly illegal parking. Her head wasn’t exactly the clearest, and she probably shouldn’t have driven when her eyes were glossy with tears and her hands shook so much she could barely muster the strength to open her car door, but she did, for you. The janitor inside, should he have cared for his job more, might have been concerned at such a sight if he wasn’t clocking off only five minutes after Alexia walked in. Whatever would happen once she reached her destination after spamming the elevator button, simply wasn’t his responsibility. 

You had given her a spare key to your apartment not so long after getting together, as she had to you. So with a quiet knock on your door that went unanswered, she unlocked it and entered. The lights were off, only the low hum of the AC sounding through the otherwise silent apartment, and so she headed towards your bedroom. 

Fortunately, when she stepped into your bedroom without so much a creak of the floorboards or the click of the door handle as it shut behind her, she saw the outline of you under the covers, facing away from her, sleeping. 

It might not have been the smartest idea she’d ever had, maybe you would kill her for it in the morning, but nevertheless, she gave into her temptations. She slipped her shoes off, leaving them out of the way like you would always beg her to do, and cautiously climbed into bed beside you. In the dark, she couldn’t see the redness to your face or your puffy eyes or the empty pack of tissues on the bedside table. Instead, none the wiser to your feelings and whether you would be angrier than ever at her for such a choice, she shuffled up behind you and wrapped a tentative arm around your torso. 

To her surprise, you covered her hand on your stomach with your own, though she wasn’t sure if it was an automatic reaction or not. You had stirred a little, though mostly clouded with sleep that tried tugging you under again.

“Didn’t know when I’d get to see you again.” You murmured, words slightly slurred. Alexia had to squeeze her eyes shut to will away the tears that tried to force their way out, and chose to shuffle closer so that she could kiss the back of your neck in apology.

“I’m sorry. For everything.” She whispered, voice cracking in the middle of the last word. 

“I missed you.” You frowned, Alexia could hear it when you spoke.

“I missed you too. But go to sleep, we can talk in the morning. We both need rest.” She said quietly. You nodded, and that was that.

Rather unexpectedly, the pair of you slept rather well. Being back in each other’s company was as relieving mentally as it apparently was physically, allowing you both to get more rest when together. Though, as you woke up and found Alexia already awake beside you, it wasn’t long before the strange feeling of bliss gave way for the anxiety you knew would come sooner than later.

She was on her side, whereas you were on your back, and there was a sleepy but worried expression on her face. You knew the conversation about to be had was necessary, didn’t mean you hated it any less. The situation that faced you both was discomforting, there were certain to be words you didn’t want to hear, and all kinds of outcomes to it. 

In anxious anticipation, you sat up, back against the headboard and knees against your chest with your arms resting atop them. Alexia decided to sit up too, though turned to face you with her legs crossed. It was quiet, awkwardly quiet, for some time, before the blonde spoke first, which you were glad for.

“I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. Especially when you were just trying to help.” She began. It wasn’t much, but it was a good start. “I appreciated that you wanted to make me feel better. But I don’t think anyone could have gotten through to me then.”

She fell silent, hoping you’d take your turn to talk then, to give her a chance to catch a glimpse of your true feelings. Communication went both ways, so you complied.

“I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me that though. If I’d have known that ringing you would have made you feel worse, I wouldn’t have done it in the first place.” The insecurities you felt under the surface came through so clearly in your voice. Alexia frowned upon hearing your reply, desperately scrambling for a way to explain the point she wanted to make.

“I think you did make me feel better. And I know, I promise I know, that I did not show that. But… I needed you. I didn’t realise it and I wish I could change that, I am really sorry I didn’t see it, I just… haven’t had someone there for me like you when I have lost. I’m not used to it but now I know how to navigate it. I am sorry you got hurt along the way of me discovering that.” The furrow to her brow deepened, so much so you were sure there’d be lines left there permanently long after this conversation had finished, but you couldn’t focus on that once you saw the first tear slide down her cheek. She had her eyes focused on the cuff of her joggers, her fingers tracing the stitching. “I regret it. Because I know how it must have made you feel. I always want you to… to feel important, a-and I know I failed that this time. I’m sorry.” 

At the sight and the sound of her getting so clearly upset by the situation, you felt yourself getting just as worked up too. Though, despite those feelings, one which was slowly becoming more prominent was relief. As the conversation continued, you slowly began to realise that this was just an argument, and you two would make it out of it. The doubts were being broken down, one by one, by the emotionally intelligent woman in front of you… even if it took a little while for that intelligence to come to light. 

You reached out for her hand that was fidgeting with her trousers, and it caused her to look up. Just as she did, another tear fell from her eye, and you shuffled closer and copied her position so that you could wipe away that single tear before it hit the sheets below.

“These days without you have been… awful, but I think it helped us to work through what we felt. Maybe it helped us to… recognise what is most important to us.” You stated, which Alexia nodded affirmatively to. “How you spoke to me and treated me, it really did hurt me. I forgive you, though.”

Her eyes widened a little, definitely not expecting to hear those words so soon.

“You do?” She mumbled hopefully, sounding like a small child in the way she asked.

“I do. You were honest and you opened up. You didn’t say any excuses, I can see you didn’t mean any of it. It’s not all magically gone, but I’m not upset or angry with you.” The blonde closed her eyes and you weren’t exactly sure if the breath that came from her was a relieved sigh or a choked sob, but it didn’t matter because you knew then, by her reaction, that you would move past this bump in the road for definite. 

“I didn’t mean a word I said. I really needed you and I hate that I didn’t realise that until too late. I swear, it won’t happen again, and if I could go b-”

“I know, I know.” You shushed her gently, leaning forward and wrapping your arms around her shoulders to bring her in for a much needed embrace. “It’s not too late, Ale. It’s not too late.”

“D-dios, I r-really love you.” You knew then that she was crying, burying her face into your neck and letting out all the emotions she’d kept stored up inside of her since that stupid game that caused all this. 

For some time, you weren’t sure how long, you held her as she released everything pent up, one hand at some point having slipped down to her back and rubbing up and down comfortingly. You got just as much out of the hug as she did, except you’d already exerted almost all the tears you had, so you stayed there with her arms loosely around your back with your eyes closed and took time to relish in the feeling of her again.

Eventually, she slowed down to quiet sniffles, and she leaned back though kept her hands on your waist so that she could look at you.

“You are the most important thing to me, more than football, more than a win or a loss or a draw, more than anything. I will make sure you know that. I will.” She said firmly, looking into your eyes with a determination you knew you’d be wrong to doubt. There was, however, one more thing you needed to get off your chest.

“Ale, football isn’t my world. I don’t know what you need yet after a disappointing match, I need you to help me figure that out so I can be exactly what you need.” In an instant, she was nodding, her thumbs stroking up and down against the material of your shirt against your sides. 

“Of course. Of course. I will help, I will try.” The blonde responded, and finally, this terrible blip was done with. You could look ahead at the future now, but not without soaking up the missed presence of the other before reluctantly facing the world again.

“Thank you.” You whispered, leaning your forehead against hers. Her hands raised to your cheeks then, and she tilted her chin up so that she could kiss your temple, then the space between your eyebrows, then your nose, and lastly, leaving a soft and unhurried kiss to your lips. It was a gesture that sealed this slightly unwanted but somewhat needed milestone off.

Obstacles occur in relationships, they’re quite common. How you come back from them, as a couple, is the defining factor in being able to move forward, or falling apart. In this instance, the pair of you stumbled at first but in the end, you flourished in working it out together, with respect, with decency, with love. The silver lining of it was that you both gained a surefire belief that you could make it through anything, as long as you had each other’s back. 

The most important part of any relationship is trying your best to learn about the person you love. It won’t always be perfect, but as long as you’re trying, that’s all that matters.

—

look i mostly hate this and i've been writing it on and off since october (that game) and i am sooooo bad at writing this stuff so this is like a filler fic and a weight off my shoulders but be excited for more soon!! thanks for putting up with my bs☺️🧡

[cow-smells]

Worth your While | Opla! Sanji x reader

Request: I've read that you are in the need for some Sanji request or ideas so here's one for a fic :D

The crew gets into a fight ( it can be the Navy or anither pirate crew) and the reader gets badly hit and Sanji just loses his shit seeing the person that he cared for the most getting knocked out?? I just genuinely wanna see Sanji just go ape shit on people because of it XD and maybe hiw the others in the clue will react to seeing Sanji like that? @smolracoon25

Summary: You and Sanji have been playing the flirting game for way too long. When you get injured, Sanji shows a side of himself you had yet to see.

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: none

A/n: I'm going purely off the live-action so pls have that in mind, also I'm just getting back in to the rhythm of writing after such a long time so sorry if this is poop/ooc/both, love ya :)

Read on AO3

“Don't you ever take a break?”

Zoro's voice coming from behind startled you, forcing you to break your longing gaze at Sanji who was fishing at the bow of the ship. “Huh?” came your wise response.

Zoro looked from you to Sanji. “You've been making moon eyes at him for months now. Don't you get tired? Or are you waiting for him to take his shift staring at you so that you can clock off?”

You felt heat rising to your cheeks. This was far from the first time crew members commented about you and Sanji's – whatever was going on between you two – but this was the first time Zoro called you out so blatantly.

When you didn't respond, Zoro went on. “I just came to tell you we should be docking soon. I'll leave you the pleasure of telling the cook.” with that, he left.

You closed the book on your lap. You really did have the intention of reading when you first head out to the deck, having some time to kill, but then... you noticed Sanji. At first you thought you'd go sit with him for a while, flirt and banter a little as you always do, but you found yourself absorbed in taking him in instead. He was different when he was alone. The way he looked so focused, so deep in thought when it was just him and the sea. Maybe even a little sad. So different from his usual sunny exterior that he put on when he was with people. Falling in to deep thoughts wondering what he might be thinking about – maybe about you? - you sat and stared, not reading as much as a word.

The book discarded, you felt a spring in your step as you made your way to the ship's chef.

The creaking floorboards alerted your arrival. Sanji turned to see who was creeping up on him, and when he saw you, he set his fishing rod aside as a wide smile grew on his lips, his dimples deepening and making your heart miss a beat. “There's my favourite girl. Come here, let me hear all about your day.” Sanji held his arms open, beckoning you to come sit on his lap.

The flirting was nothing new. When you first joined the Strawhats, Sanji was as flirty to you as he was to any other woman; he did not expect to meet his match in you. You were quick to play along, always one-upping him, dancing along the line that separated playfulness and seriousness, never quite picking a side.

The problem was, in reality, you had chosen a side long ago.

You would flirt and giggle and make him blush but never actually act upon anything. Neither would Sanji. He, however, took your playing along as though it was a battle to be won. Sanji would flirt, you'd reply with something raunchy, he would surprise you with something heartfelt. It was as though he knew exactly where to hit in order to get you a little closer to buckling, every time. As time went on he had become so devoted to your back and forth that you noticed he had gradually abandoned all other efforts flirting with other women, to focus entirely on you.

You had to remind yourself that this was a game to him. An instinct, almost. It hurt to think of your relationship that way, but you had to keep that thought at the forefront of your mind if you didn't want to fall even harder for him.

So you would continue to play along, even if that's all that you could have with him.

You chose not to indulge him completely – that was too dangerous for you – and so you opted to bend a knee over the armrest of his chair. Close, but no contact. “Come on, Sanji,” you bent your head in what felt like a bashful manner and said, “you know I spent all day thinking of you.”

You weren't sure if he was blushing or if that was just your wishful thinking. Composing himself, Sanji wrapped an arm around you to hold your waist, lightly tracing circles on your hip. “I beg of you, darling – next time, come find me instead of just thinking of me. I'll make it worth your while.”

You wanted to ask, how will you make it worth my while? Just to hear Sanji go in to detail of what you've been fantasizing about for months. But instead, you opted for a tamer response. “I came to tell you we're docking soon. Maybe I'll find you then and you could make it worth my while with a drink.”

Without missing a beat, Sanji took hold of your hand, bringing it to his lips. “There's nothing I'd enjoy more.” With that, he kissed your hand, his eyes never leaving yours.

Docking started out normal. Everyone knew what their usual chores were when you reached a town, restocking and fixing so that the ship would be in top condition for its next leg of the journey in your search for the One Piece. So while Sanji went in to town to restock on groceries (you didn't pay much attention to the others), you, Nami and Usopp stayed around the ship to fix up some of the damage it took when you last encountered a rival pirate ship. That also happened to be the reason it was just you three when the same rival pirates noticed your ship docked, ready to take their revenge.

The three of you had your individual talents, but you just weren't enough to hold up against an entire rival crew. They had attacked so suddenly and so fiercely – it didn't take long before you were on the sand, fighting to stay conscious. You lost that fight as you watched Usopp try his best to fight off three attackers at once.

You really thought that would be the end for you. You should have known better; it was Sanji's voice you heard as you regained consciousness, motivating you to open your eyes despite the pain that flooded your body.

The beach area all around you was covered with pirates who were taken down, just like you – only that they were your enemies. You first noticed Nami's orange hair – she seemed to be taking care of a bleeding Usopp, his condition worse than yours. Following Sanji's voice, you found him holding the last one of the rival crew by his shirt, throwing punches like you've never seen him before. It took you aback – thinking about it, you had never seen Sanji use his hands in combat. Too precious – need them for cooking, he'd once told you before adding, the only thing more precious to me is you. It had made you blush at the time before you had laughed him off. Now, you were questioning if it was a joke at all.

The man Sanji was holding wasn't putting up a fight – he was far too battered for that, but Sanji didn't stop. He was too far away for you to understand what he was saying to the guy, but focusing hard, you could just about make out half sentences – "to hit a woman" – "don't deserve to breath" – "finish you" – you searched for the strength to get up and stop him. You had never seen Sanji – your happy, cheerful Sanji – so angry, feral even. It scared you a little; but mostly, you knew Sanji would regret it if he were to kill a man who no longer posed a threat. So you grasped at the sand, forcing your aching bones to pick yourself up. But as you were regaining your balance, Sanji finally threw the man to the sand, a look of disgust painting his handsome features. "Finally made a date with her and you ruined it... You hurt her. You're lucky I don't kill you." The man groaned in pain.

In a sharp change, his features went from anger to concern as he finally left the man and turned to where he last saw you laying. His eyes were full of honest pain, until he saw you on your feet – then they read of hope. "Y/n!" Sanji called, rushing to you as he could see your struggle to stand upright. "You- I-" he scanned your body as he reached you, taking in all visible injuries. "Are you – are you okay? Can I help you?" he reached an arm around your waist, waiting for your approval before he held on to help you stay up, so afraid he might hurt you.

"Thanks." his arm around you really helped you to stay up. It was a practical measure, sure, any one of your crew mates would do the same – but when you look up and meet Sanji's eyes, you know that the tense feeling between you two wouldn't have been replicated with anyone else. "I mean it. You saved us. We'd... I'd be lost without you." at that, Sanji smiled that deep-dimpled smile of his at you, the playfulness not reaching his still-concerned eyes.

"Y/n," he started. "are you really flirting with me, at a time like this?"

It was strange how despite all your injuries, you felt less and less of the pain the longer you leaned in to Sanji, close enough to smell his fragrance. A half-smile reached your lips. You couldn't play this game any longer. "Did you really beat that guy up that bad because he ruined what should have been our... date?"

Sanji tensed, obviously not ready to have this conversation now. His gaze dropped momentarily before he wrapped his other arm around your waist, holding you tightly to him. "I had a hundred reasons to kill him," Sanji said, and you felt disappointment bubbling through you until he continued, "but the most pressing reason is that he ruined our date."

Sanji took the opportunity to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear and you couldn't help but smile so big you were embarrassed by it. "I really wanted that drink with you, away from the ship and everyone else. Just us."

You recomposed yourself. You needed clarity. "I'm not playing anymore, Sanji."

Sanji chuckled. "Fancy that. I was never playing at all."

You must have forgotten how to breath at all when he leaned down, his hand finding a rest on your neck as his thumb caressed your cheek. Nearly a whisper, he asked – "Can I kiss you?"

You leaning in served as the consent he searched for. After months of pining over each other, wondering what it would be like – his lips met yours, in a mixture of softness and passion like you'd never felt before. Forgetting you were injured at all you sneaked your arms around his neck, pulling him in, almost afraid of letting this anticipated moment of passion go. Sanji was more than happy to pull closer, a hand on your lower back holding you impossibly close to him.

The moment did, however, find its end as you heard your Captain whoop and holler from afar. "Yeah! Way to go, Sanji! About damn time!"

Breaking the kiss, Sanji nodded at Luffy, his smile lines prominent as he looked the proudest you'd ever seen him.

The crew was more than happy to make a quick exit that night, preferring to not stay around until the rival crew regained their strength. You were helping Nami untie the ropes anchoring the ship to the dock when she said, "I really thought he was going to kill him earlier." you didn't know how to respond. "I've never seen Sanji like that." Nami managed to untie a knot, and Zoro began pulling the rope up on to the ship. "He's really got it bad for you."

Despite that questionable context, you couldn't help but smile. In a burst of honesty you confessed; "I hope so, because I've got it real bad for him, too."

On cue, the ship's chef leaned over the ships railing, looking down to you. "Y/n, my love!" he called, as though the rest of the crew wasn't surrounding the both of you. "I hope you're finished down there, because I've got a candlelit dinner waiting for you up here. And drinks. You know, to make it worth your while," he finished with a wink.

From behind Sanji you could hear Luffy ask, "What about our dinner? Just because you're lovers now doesn't mean we don't need to eat..."

Sanji sighed and turned away from you, probably to go protect your dinner before Luffy demolished it.

"Right then, let's go," Nami said as you finished untying the last rope. "While there's still food to eat."

And for the first time, you boarded your ship not to find the One Piece or the All Blue – you were just happy to be there, with the man you loved.

[reshinless]

Kinich x fem! Reader childhood friends to lovers please? Some backstory of Kinich's childhood and reader being the only one who can give him great comfort

back when we were younger - grentperez ,, childhood lovers w/ kinich. purely fluff/romance.

when you both were younger, it'd often be just the two of you after the other kids went to their parents, or at least elsewhere. so you'd ask him things others usually wouldn't.

"hey, you!" your small figure suddenly showed up in the corner of his eye, he turned his head. "wanna play with me?" you took a seat beside him on the grass, the sun seemed like it was about to set, you both didn't have too much time left but... no harm in playing he supposed.

as you explained your little card game to him, you were honestly super proud, it was a game somewhat similar to the TCG you see nowadays in teyvat.

as much as he lost to you at first, he ended up winning right before he had to go. you waved him off with a soft genuine smile as he did the same in a more shy manner.

he always found comfort in anything you did for him. the time you spent with him, the effort you put into making him feel better after having lost to you, or those moments where he started to doubt his strength.

you made that same spot the place you both would always meet up at for years to come. always playing the same game and talking about hopes and dreams, but that was honestly mostly you. he liked hearing you talk.

he also liked other stuff about you though, like those moles on your thighs. or the acne that grew onto your face that one time, maybe even the times you've scolded him as you both grew into adults.

"kinich... you know we talked about this! stop being so careless!" you huffed and crossed your arms, the number of times you've scolded him over this, you still smacked his head like you did back when you'd win your little game.

"i know. 'm sorry." that day he was revived by the pyro archon, mavuika, acknowledging his strength and passion for his nation.

but.. why was he still surprised when you suddenly reached out to hug him? you've been friends for years, this should be nothing. he should be able to reciprocate it easy peasy... right?

yet it felt like his body was stuck, frozen even. your warmth quickly melted his cold exterior, causing him to shed a few tears. someone was worried about him. you slightly tackle him back down onto the grass.

"don' cry kin', i just- I don't want you to get hurt. I believe in your strength," you wipe off a few of his tears as you pull away from his arms. "but I don't want you to stop coming home... I don't want you to stop playing with me. you've made so many friends with me, we're supposed to be a package deal."

every word you uttered, you started to cry too. he brings you back into a hug.

ever since that day, he's tried to lessen the times he's had to die, but only further strengthening his will to fight and live to see another day. or more like to see you again.

it's been another two years since your little speech to him. you're finally already his significant other, and somewhat keeping it away from those who weren't close to you both.

before he could finally go home to you, he swung by the very same place you both would play your card game. tracing his fingertips on the wall nearby, looking at each of your scores back when you'd score them anyway.

"you wanted to come by here too, huh?" he turned his head almost immediately at the voice, he could recognize your tone from anywhere. you rounded a corner to take a look at the long list of tallies on the stone wall.

"you know, i always felt like we were something back then." you hum as you crouch to look at the measurements of heights for each year you both got older.

"pretty, you are aware we've been together for two years now, right?" "don't ruin our moment kin'!"

a small voice emits from nothingness; "can you two lovebirds keep it down?! a king needs his beauty sleep y'know?!"

"oh shut it, will you?!"

[catmiemy]

Not Work Day (Aitana Bonmatí x Reader)

Summary: Aitana and you spend a rare day off together.

A/N: This is just a silly little story I thought of a while ago and finally wrote in hopes of getting into more of a writting mood again. So many ideas and so little ability to put them on 'paper' lately...

I hope you enjoy this one! :)

Dating a professional football player wasn’t always easy. Whenever you mentioned that to anyone they usually assumed you referred to your girlfriend having to travel a lot or the lack of days off together because of conflicting schedules, or the interest the nosey media and even nosier public had in your relationship.

And sure, all of these things could be tricky at times, but there was something else that was even harder to bear; seeing your girlfriend being worked to the ground with almost no time to recuperate properly. Before you started dating Aitana you had never thought much about it, now it haunted you during the days and disturbed your dreams.

Every new injury you heard about made your stomach drop, always wondering the same thing, what if next time it would be your girlfriend going down with some horrible injury? The guilt always followed close behind, with your berating yourself for being happy in any capacity that someone else got hurt.

More often than not it was a struggle to watch Aitana’s games. You had a tendency to clench every single muscle in your body until the final whistle was blown, and you could be sure that nothing bad had happened.

For a while you did your best to keep these concerns to yourself, not wanting to make Aitana worry about you unnecessarily. Convinced that if you just wanted it enough, you would get over this.

You should have known that your girlfriend would catch on; she was too perceptive not to notice it, too concerned about your well-being to miss it.

When she did you explained somewhat reluctantly what was bothering you; the last thing you wanted was for your girlfriend to feel guilty. This wasn’t her fault at all and she shouldn’t feel bad about playing the sport she loved.

Despite your best efforts to downplay it, the first thing you saw in Aitana’s eyes once you finished your explanation was guilt. Most likely because you were looking for that emotion specifically, but in that moment you couldn’t think rationally like this. You were about to apologize, try and take it back somehow, when she asked you one simple question.

“Is there anything we can do to make you feel better about it?”

Up until that point it had never occurred to you to think about possible ways to make the situation easier for yourself. Usually your thoughts had been centered around scolding yourself for being such a worrywart. It made you oddly emotional that Aitana took you this seriously and didn’t dismiss your concerns.

Neither of you found a satisfying answer to the question that night, but over time you came up with something that helped, a tradition that you called ‘not work days’. 

On one of these ‘not work days’ you were awoken by Aitana trying to get up. Without opening your eyes you reached out to grab her wrist and pull her back into bed. You were met by some resistance, forcing you to open your eyes and scowl at the brunette.

“Hey, you work or not work?” You asked, leaving no room for interpretation what the correct answer was.

Aitana rolled her eyes at you, but relented, snuggling back into you much to your delight. You wrapped your arms around her and buried your face in her shoulder.

“I’m never going to be free of that stupid phrase, am I?” She grumbled.

“Nope,” you agreed, “And now hush, it’s way too early to be up on a not work day.”

You felt some lingering tenseness in your girlfriend’s body, apparently she wasn’t fully ready yet to commit to resting some more. It was time to pull out your magic weapon; you began gently tracing small circles in the space between Aitana’s eyebrows. It worked like a charm. Within seconds the brunette fell back asleep and you let yourself drift off as well.

The next time you woke up it was on your own accord, like you hoped it would be. Usually when you managed to get your girlfriend back to sleep she didn’t wake up again until late in the morning. In your mind a clear indication that the Spaniard needed this extra rest.

You allowed yourself to linger in bed a little longer to hold Aitana in your arms and watch her sleep. It was rare for her to be still if she was awake, always moving around, busy with one thing after another.

Mostly the midfielder loved it and was happy with her life, but sometimes it became all too much. She had confided in you a while back that being with you had helped her to finally find a healthy balance in her life. That was without a doubt the biggest compliment anyone had ever given you.

After a few more minutes you placed a soft kiss on your girlfriend’s forehead, before carefully extracting yourself and moving to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Breakfast in bed was a staple of the not work days..

You hummed happily to yourself while you made an omelet, mixed a smoothie and cut up some cherry tomatoes. And of course you couldn’t forget about the coffee! When everything was ready you walked back to the bedroom, ready to wake up Aitana with some gentle cuddles.

However, your plan was thwarted. You opened the door and instantly spotted your girlfriend on her cell phone. This in itself wasn’t a problem, but the way she had crunched up her nose and her eyebrows were knitted together, revealed to you that she was most likely looking at something work related. She looked too stressed for this to be anything else.

“What are you doing?” You demanded, “This is a not work day!”

You expected the Catalan to smile at you apologetically, instead a huge grin appeared on her face and she turned her phone around. It took a moment until you realized why she had done that; your girlfriend was recording the entire interaction and apparently she thought this was hilarious.

“Haha, very funny,” you grumbled, “I really thought you were working already.”

“I know, you should have seen your face,” Aitana replied between laughter, “Oh wait, you can. Come over here, mi amor.” She patted the bed next to her, but you remained standing. You would have crossed your arms, but the breakfast tray was stopping you from doing so.

“Don’t be like that, mi amor. I’m only giving back what you’ve been handing out. Or do I have to remind you how often you’re sending me that stupid ‘You work or not work’ video? How you even added some cute animal pictures to the beginning of it, so I wouldn’t recognize right away what clip it is? You violated the sanctity of cute animal pictures!”

The midfielder sounded so scandalized by this that you couldn’t help but crack a smile. You shuffled over to the bed, leaning over to give your girlfriend a good morning kiss. Just like you hoped this successfully distracted her from the stupid video she had recorded because you had no interest in watching it. You were admittedly better at teasing than being teased.

“So what’s the plan for today?” Aitana asked, tucking into her breakfast. “This is so good by the way.”

“No plans, we just do whatever you want to do,” you responded, deliberately ignoring her praise. Dealing with compliments also wasn’t one of your strengths.

“Whatever I want?” The Catalan asked with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes. “Everything that’s within the rules of not work days,” you clarified.

“But coming up with ideas is work too,” your girlfriend complained.

“My poor baby! Okay, here are some ideas; we can bundle up on the couch and watch a movie, we can make cookies, we can take a walk in the rain…”

“Yes! Let’s take a walk in the rain,” Aitana interrupted, her choice surprising you. The midfielder wasn’t known for liking the rain, in fact she made no secret of how much she hated the rain.

“Really?” You double-checked.

Your girlfriend nodded, “Yeah, you made it sound so romantic a few days ago. Both of us under one umbrella, the rain pattering on it, huddling close together for warmth. Sounds like a movie scene.”

“Okay then, let’s do it.”

The two of you got ready, Aitana putting on much more clothes than you. Normally you would tease your girlfriend about it, but you didn’t want to risk her remembering the video she had taken earlier.

In the beginning the walk was actually romantic. The sound of the pitter patter on the umbrella was soothing, especially with how quiet and deserted the roads were. You breathed in deeply, savoring the smell of rain. Aitana was snuggling into your side and when you looked over she had a soft smile on her lips.

Before too long however, you noticed that your girlfriend clung a little too strongly to you and she was dragging her feet. This time when you glanced her way you were met by an unhappy expression, though it quickly morphed into a forced smile as soon as Aitana noticed your eyes on her.

You pulled her to a stop. “What is it, babe?”

“My feet are wet,” the Catalan whined.

Your eyes snapped to her feet. Your girlfriend was wearing her favorite and already pretty worn sneakers. It wasn’t really surprising that they weren’t able to withstand the rain anymore.

“Then let’s go back home,” you stated, already turning around and tugging Aitana’s hand to follow you.

“No, I don’t want to ruin this.”

You turned to face the midfielder again, cupping her cheek with your free hand.

“And I don’t want you to be miserable, or worse get sick. And anyway this is your not work day, so you should only do things you’re enjoying.”

Aitana nuzzled slightly into your palm, smiling up at you. “Okay, but I disagree, it’s our not work day.”

You walked back rapidly to your apartment and when you got there you sent the brunette to the bedroom with the instruction to change into something comfy and get rid of her wet socks.

“Don’t put on other ones though! I have something for you,” you added.

A few minutes later you met Aitana back at the couch, a cup of tea in one hand and the other one hidden behind your back. Your girlfriend craned her neck, trying to sneak a peek, but you didn’t allow it.

“Show meeeee,” the Catalan begged.

You followed the request, showing her the fluffy socks you had bought a while back. A huge smile spread across Aitana’s face as she saw them.

“They look so comfortable. Thank you! But how did you know I would need them?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I didn’t. I just bought them randomly for a not work day. It’s pure luck that you got wet feet today.”

“Or maybe this was all part of an elaborate evil plan to get me to undress my feet in front of you,” Aitana joked.

“You got me there. That’s why I raved about walks in the rain and that’s why I suggested it this morning. I even sabotaged your shoes,” you explained with a serious face.

Your girlfriend giggled happily. “I guess in that case you’ve earned the right to put on the new socks and give me a foot rub afterwards,” she said, sticking her feet out towards you.

“How generous of you!” You exclaimed, quickly putting on the fluffy socks.

Then you went to sit down next to Aitana to give her the requested foot rub, but you stopped in your tracks when you saw the midfielder glaring at you.

“Everything okay?” You asked uncertainly.

“No!” The brunette cried out, making your heart beat faster; what had you done wrong? “I need you to change into comfortable clothes as well. This doesn’t look like a good outfit to relax in.”

You looked down yourself and only now realized that you were still wearing jeans. “Oh, I guess you’re right.”

Before you got a change to move away, Aitana caught your hand and pulled you in for a kiss. “Sorry for scaring you. I didn’t realize it would actually make you anxious,” she apologized. “And now go, I need my girlfriend to warm me up.”

You were happy to oblige, hurrying to the bedroom.

“And can you bring the laptop back with you? I’m in the mood for some online shopping,” Aitana shouted after you.

You were happy to do so since it signified that your girlfriend had fully gotten into the swing of the not work day. It was always the same; in the beginning she didn’t know what she wanted to do, but as time progressed the midfielder became more attuned to her own desires that she so often put on the back burner.

On your return you handed Aitana the laptop before plopping down by her feet, taking them in your lap for the promised foot rub. You hadn’t even started yet, when your girlfriend let out a surprise “Oh”, pulling her feet back and scooting closer to you instead.

“What are these?” She asked, showing you the screen with your last internet search. It had completely slipped your mind what you had been looking at the day before.

“Dresses,” you offered up dryly.

“Yeah, I can see that. Any special occasion?” Aitana probed.

“You know the answer to that. It’s not every day you get to accompany your girlfriend to an award show for the best football players in the world,” you replied nervously; although you didn’t know why you felt nervous about this.

“Aw, I really appreciate that!” Your girlfriend cooed, her eyes flickering over the screen, “Can I help pick?”

You nodded; that had always been the plan. Since this was the first time you were going along as Aitana’s partner you wanted to look your best, so another opinion was definitely needed.

“Some of them are pretty expensive,” the Catalan mentioned carefully.

Money had always been a touchy subject between the two of you. Aitana had a lot more of it than you did; still you didn’t feel comfortable with constantly letting her pay, insisting that you took turns. The brunette wasn’t too happy about that, but by now you had found some middle ground, usually going to less expensive places when it was your turn to pay.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” you dismissed Aitana’s concern, “And I want to look worthy of my girlfriend. You know she’s currently the best football player in the world?”

“You sound so proud of me.”

Atiana’s voice was oddly quit; it made you wonder if she doubted that you were proud of her. You thought back to the last few games and realized with a start that you couldn’t remember the last time you had actually said these words. This way worrying, especially considering your girlfriend had a hard time believing things unless she heard them over and over again.

“That’s because I am,” you responded firmly, vowing to do better.

“Even if it makes you anxious?” The brunette wondered.

You sighed, rubbing your face. “Let’s be honest, no matter what job you had, I would always be anxious about something. That’s the annoying thing about anxiety; it’ll always find something else to worry about.”

Aitana looked up at you hopefully, “So you don’t hate that I’m a footballer?”

“What? No, of course not! And I’m sorry if I made you feel like that,” you apologized.

“Well that’s good then,” your girlfriend announced, a smirk appearing on her face, “But hey, is working out issues even allowed on a not work day? Or did you just break your own rules?”

You rolled your eyes, “Of course it’s allowed and since they’re my rules, I can change them whenever I want.”

Aitana raised her eyebrows, fighting to keep her face neutral, “Oh really, is that how it works?”

“Yes,” you nodded sagely.

A devilish grin appeared on your girlfriend’s face, and too late you recognized your mistake.

“In that case I’m making my own rules as well and decide that I get to buy you this blue dress.” She pointed to the one that was your absolute favorite, but that was also firmly out of your price range.

“Aitana,” you groaned, “That’s not how it works!”

“Oh? If you can make up random rules, so can I,” the Catalan pointed out, daring you to disagree with her.

“That’s not the same at all. I don’t want you to spend money on my clothes,” you argued

“Why not? If you think about it, I’ll get to appreciate your dress much more than you. I can admire you in it all night long, and maybe I’ll even get to take if off of you. And this dress will look stunning on you; it will really bring out your eyes.”

“Fine”, you relented, making your girlfriend squeal happily. There was one more thing to say though, so you stopped Aitana’s over the top celebration with one hand. “But this means you can only get me something small for my birthday.

“Okay,” the midfielder agreed suspiciously quickly.

“And I mean that, Tana!” You doubled down.

Your girlfriend nodded, but seemed to be only half-listening, too busy adding the dress to your cart. You would just have to bring it up again when your birthday was closer because you wouldn’t be budging on that.

After Aitana successfully ordered the dress, she leaned back with a content sigh.

“I really love these not work days, you know?”

Your heart leapt happily at that concession.  “Me too, babe.”

Sometimes you wished you got more of them, but maybe not having them all the time made them extra special.

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Bratty!Fem!reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: Tired of your antics regarding how cavalier you take your sexual relationship, your lieutenant cuts you off and that has you immediately plotting. You know you can get him to break and all it'll take is one purchase. How can he keep his resolve when he sees what you've bought? And how will he act when he catches you?

Word Count: 6.8 k

Warnings:

The office is silent now except for the distant sounds of movement filtering in from outside the door of people coming and going through the building. Your shirt clings in a rumpled mess to your body, sweat speckling across your limbs from that specific heat that gets shared between two bodies, euphoria still running through your veins when the man sitting beneath you speaks. “We’re not doin’ this again, so get that straight. Understand?”

You tilt your head to the side and raise a curious eyebrow, staring back into the face of your lieutenant as he gets you to your feet and grabs his shirt to throw it back over his head, covering his sweat-glistening torso. “Care to explain what you’re talking about or am I meant to just guess?” you ask with snark in your tone as you pick up the rest of your clothing off the floor.

Buttoning his pants and re-buckling his belt, he takes his time before answering as you finish and stand there impatient and agitated. “What the fuck did I say about startin’ stuff with me when I’m busy?” Lt. Riley questions back, his voice harsh. “Did ya think I was jokin’ or are ya just hell bent on gettin’ caught? Cause that’s what’s gonna fuckin’ happen if ya keep temptin’ me in the middle of the day.”

“You could turn me away,” you say with a roll of your eyes, “ever heard of self-control?”

Stepping up close to your body, the lieutenant grabs you by the chin and looks down his nose at you. “You’re too much of a distraction. And ya need to be taught a lesson, sweetheart; when I say somethin’ I fuckin’ mean it. Consider this my self-control.” 

“Oh, gonna punish me now?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest as you pull your face out of his grasp with a flick of your head. “Okay, go ahead. Let’s see what you got.”

“Ya ain’t gettin’ nothin’ from me til I can be sure you’re gonna listen. You’re cut off, sweetheart, and until ya can learn, we’re done with this.” 

You hold his gaze steadfast, not intimidated in the least. If he wants to play this game, then you’ll play it, but if he thinks this is going to end the way he wants, he is going to be sorely mistaken. “Fine.” You don’t argue, there is no sense to. “Have it your way, sir. Is that all?”

You’ll have it your way soon enough. All it’ll take is patience.

He doesn’t say anything, opting to sit back in the chair behind his desk without uttering another word. It is a gross miscalculation on Lt. Riley’s part not to immediately take your acceptance if his reprimand as a giant red flag, but if he isn’t willing to put his knowledge of your competitive temperament to use then that is fully on him; he is a big boy and since he wants to talk about consequences, then he should be ready to receive his own.

You double check yourself in silence before you leave his office with a smug sense of satisfaction, though a plan isn’t in mind just yet. It doesn’t matter really, the bigger they are the harder they fall and you are confident that you can make him fold with very little effort because despite being a man of mostly mystery, you know the intimate details of what makes that 6’4” military officer weak. 

The day isn’t even over before you already have a plan in mind and it all involves one very specific item. It’s a shame you have to order it, but the time it’ll take to come in the post will work in your favor. Lt. Riley needs time to cool off, to miss his pretty thing, to let his appetite for you get ravenous again.

Patience was never your virtue unless it came to getting something you wanted, so you bore your restlessness in silence as you waited for your order to come in. You give the lieutenant his space without a fuss, letting him believe his little delusion that at any moment you’ll come crawling back ready to obey him just as he wants.

A week passes and then nearly another when finally you are gifted with your prize that comes in the evening mail that Friday. You can taste the sweetness of your retribution already as you rip into the package and pull out the smallest, tightest pair of jet black hot pants with white trim. No more keeping this body for his eyes only; if he doesn’t want to give you the attention you desire then someone else will. 

You rush to your barracks the second the day comes to a close with your package in hand; you have only a short window of time to pull your entire plan together or you’ll be forced to wait till after the weekend and you are tired of waiting. Tonight is the night that you make your lieutenant come crawling back to you and stop with this nonsense.   

The tiny swath of fabric covering your ass barely hides a damned thing from view, hugging around your hips like they are painted on and resting at the very top of your thighs so that the underside of your butt peeks out from below the hem. There is a slit that goes up the side and it is doing its job in making your legs look extra long while also showing as much skin as possible. It leaves almost nothing to the imagination for anyone who happens to look your way… and boy do you want as many eyes on you as you can get.

Let’s see him be steadfast in his resolve to teach you a lesson now.

With a head full of devious thoughts, you leave your room and head out onto base and into the oncoming night. Shoulders back and head held high you walk past the buildings with confidence on the way to your first stop of the night: the officers building. You had checked the clock just before you left, it’s nearly time now. He’ll be leaving his office soon and you need him to catch sight of you on the way to your second destination: the rec center.

How lucky it is that the lieutenant is a man of routine and so giving it another minute or two you step out in front of the building and start heading directly for the rec, though at a slower pace than usual. And sure enough, when you’re still within eyeshot, you hear the front door to the building open. 

Stepping out into the cooler evening air, Lt. Riley looks up and his sight is captured by a figure moving just up ahead in the distance. People coming and going isn’t abnormal on a military base, but what really catches his attention is the familiarity of the body and the way that body is dressed. He is stunned in his tracks because you are barely wearing anything at all with shorts that look like they’ve been painted on. Paired with the tight black tank top you’ve chosen and you might as well be naked for all the covering it does. After a good almost two weeks of no action, the man is starved…but also curious as to where the fuck you are going dressed like this. 

The best thing would have been for the lieutenant to turn tail and walk away, leave it and you alone, but as smart as Lt. Riley is when it comes to temptation the man is a goddamn fool that cannot help himself.

You are a good bit ahead by the time he takes action and decides to follow you, but he keeps the pace as heat floods his body from staring at the back of you walking away, desperately wanting to take a bite out of all that juicy meat tempting his gaze as it bounces with each sure-footed step you take. Fuck, he is a sucker for all the plump, tender parts of your body and having them on display like this is a regular buffet that he can’t help but soak up even with his nosiness into what exactly has you looking so killer. 

Those auburn eyes of his continue to follow you as you come to the front of a building and enter. Now that you are out of view, he can think more clearly and he realizes that it’s the rec center that you’ve just entered. The closer the lieutenant gets, the more he catches raucous sounds of many voices braying like a pack of crazed hounds, making him quicken his steps that match his rising blood pressure until he stands just outside the doors to peer in without being detected yet.

Through the glass doors he can see towards the back of the main room that a group of privates surrounding the single government bought pool table with cues in hand are now circling you like wolves circling a wounded deer, practically begging you to join them for a few games while he knows that its only to get you to stay longer so that they can enjoy the view. It makes his blood boil to watch them ogle you like that, getting far too close to what isn’t theirs. 

…to what belongs to him.

Standing in silence, now cloaked in darkness as night has fallen, he watches angrily as a private gets bold enough to place his hand at the small of your back just as you lean over the table to make your first shot and suddenly he is seeing red. He can barely comprehend anything through the angry haze clouding his vision, but he can feel the cold steel of the door handle in his hand as he wrenches it open and stalks inside as if he is ready to kill.   

All eyes immediately drift towards the source of the sound. You look up through a giggle to see the form of the lieutenant standing there, sharp gaze boring straight into you specifically and the man who still has his hand on you. 

“What’s goin’ on ‘ere,” that deep voice booms through the small space to quiet the rowdy bunch.

“Is there a problem, sir?” one of the more brave privates speaks up.

His sight doesn’t leave you. “Seems we need to have a chat about propriety,” he growls. “This is a military base, not a fuckin’ strip club.” 

You smirk. “I don’t know what kind of strip clubs you frequent, sir, but I can assure you that this is more clothing than most will allow.”

A few of the privates snicker behind you, impressed with your audacity to backtalk someone as imposing as the skull-masked officer and that does nothing but add fuel to the fire.

“Come with me- now.” His voice is firm. 

A collective “ooooh” passes around the bunch that is quickly quelled with one harsh glare. “If I were ya I would get back to my fuckin’ game,” Lt. Riley barks. “Or would you lot rather be placed on permanent fire guard to drive the goddamn point home, since ya want to meddle in an officer’s business?”

His command is absolute and none of the privates have the balls enough to question it. Quickly they scramble back to their game, keeping their heads down and eyes locked to the table. Whatever trouble you are about to get in is none of their concern, not when being reprimanded by the imposing lieutenant is on the line.

Satisfied, those amber eyes snap right back to you. “Move, now,” he demands and points towards an area of the rec that is blocked off by a wall, essentially cutting the room in two and will give enough privacy that the others inside won’t be able to witness what is about to transpire. 

“Of course, sir,” you say in agreement without a syllable of dissention. 

Turning on your heels you take off in the direction pointed out to you, walking ahead of the masked officer eagerly. He’s mad; there is no need to turn around, you can feel his glare on you the entire walk over and it makes you smile. You’ve hit the nerve you had hoped to. Now to bring it all home and get your lover back the way you want. 

As soon as you make it behind the cover of the corner his hand is on your waist as he shoves you into the wall with brute force. Your back hits it and you let out a surprised gasp. He stands towering over top of you, a powerfully intimidating figure with a massive presence to match as he glares you down with fire in his gaze. 

“Can I fucking help you?” you ask as you quickly regain your composure.

Christ, when you want to get his attention you sure know how to do it. “What the fuck do ya think you’re doin’, hmm?” he questions back heatedly. “Puttin’ on a fuckin’ show for all the privates? Do ya fuckin’ think this appropriate, what ya got on?”

Something about having this conversation with the barrier of his balaclava covering his face infuriates you as if this was any other time he would have already had it off his face. “You think you can just treat me like everyone else after all we’ve done? Fuck you; take off the mask when you’re talking to me.”

His eyes narrow as he shakes his head side to side. “You don’t get to make demands a me anymore, princess.”

“Oh yeah?” you challenge back. “That what you think?”

Leaning in a bit closer, you can feel the heat of his breath even as it filters through the fabric. “That’s what I know. Now answer the question. Do ya think this is appropriate?”

Your shrug is nonchalant. “For field work? Well, it depends on the climate I suppose. That doesn’t really apply here does it, since we are still on base. Why? Do you have a problem with it?”

A sharp hiss of air exits rapidly out of his nose. “Like hell I do,” he says and suddenly you can make out the feel of his fingertips as they toy around with the fabric at the edge of your shorts. He lets them brush against your outer thigh as he follows the line of the hem up the slit that goes higher towards your hip. There is electricity in his touch and it makes your pulse start to race. “You're distracting my men. An outfit like this is askin’ for attention. Whose fuckin’ attention ya tryin’ to get, hmm?”

“Who said anything about attention?” you question him back as if you can’t possibly understand what all the fuss is about. “I just wanted to be comfortable. You know, unwind and all that after a long week.”

“Comfortable,” he scoffs as he rolls the fabric in between his fingers. “Ya barely have a god damned thing on.”

“Maybe that’s how I feel most comfortable,” you push, your reply a little more breathy. “You of all people should know that.” 

Oh you are walking on thin ice, lying to him like this. He is not that innocent that he can’t tell what you’re doing and you are not that naive to think that he won’t immediately figure it out. Harshly grabbing your chin, he holds your face firm in his grasp as his dark eyes shadowed within the confines of his mask stare back into your own. 

“Don’t ya lie to me, sweetheart,” he says, that gruff voice metered and unyielding in its severity. “The way ya were just eatin’ up how those boys reacted, I know ya didn’t fuckin’ dress like a slag for nothin’.”

“Are they not allowed to look, Simon?” you ask without missing a beat and using his name as if it’s a curse.

The question hangs in that air as Simon shifts in his stance while not saying a word, eyes narrowing as he realizes that there is no right way for him to answer that without giving himself away that he has dug himself into trouble.

A smug grin crosses your lips before you try to lick it away. “Ah, so that’s the problem right? That they were looking at me? Strange, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were… jealous. But that can’t be right, can it Simon? Because I thought I was cut off and that you were done, so it’s all fair game yeah? Unless there is something you want to fess up to?”

Simon’s chiseled jaw twitches under his mask as his eyes shimmer; you are pushing it, though why is he even surprised. “Ya better watch it, luv,” he warns under his breath as his grip along your chin tightens. “You are playin’ with fire and if ya ain’t careful, your pretty little fingers are gonna fuckin’ burn.” 

And before you are even made conscious of it, your mind immediately knows what to say in response. You hold his gaze steadfast in your own. “Make me.”

Those two little words and their variations are Simon’s kryptonite and you know it; that’s what got you on his cock in the first place. Nothing else can make that man go feral than a threat from a bratty bitch that puts him in the position to show them the consequences of what their cocky attitudes get them.  

You smirk, satisfied with how you seem to have the upper hand in this little confrontation. Simon is now in a place where he will either have to admit he still wants you and that his threat meant nothing or he will have to let you go… and you know by the rapid increase in the rise and fall of his chest the longer you stand between him and the wall that the latter is looking less and less likely. 

“Still waiting on your answer,” you say with a smug, satisfied grin spread across your lips, “or is it that if you say anything, it’ll make it clear that you are now regretting a certain… decision… you so hastily made?”

God, you know just how to rile him up in the exact way that both infuriates and entices him. His devil with a pretty face, his sin that feels like heaven; he is drawn to your stubbornness like a moth is drawn to a flame.

“Ya vicious little bitch,” he says, the words sharp. 

Gotcha, you think to yourself. You have that serious military officer right where you want him. Now all you have to do is go in for the kill. You take a step into him even with your chin still secure in his grasp. “Oh yeah,” you respond, your voice husky. “As if you don’t fucking love it.”

You are met with only silence as a shiver runs straight through him. He’s barely able to react in time to hide its presence, but grits his teeth hard and stifles any movement other than the rapid breaths he continues to take. 

“Cat got your tongue?” you ask and wait for a response that doesn’t come; you don’t expect it to. “That’s what I thought. So, here’s how it’s going to work: I’m gonna wear what I want, when I want, and if you don’t like how others react to my wardrobe then that’s on you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I got a game to return to.” 

Pulling your head back forcefully out of his grip, his strong, rough fingers release your chin and he watches as you make your move to step past him, but he can’t let this go like he had originally planned. This is the game you both play and he just can’t quit you. You are his, his, and he isn’t going to just let you forget that. You barely take the first few steps around him headed back the way you came when you hear Simon mutter under his breath. 

“Fuck,” the sigh hits your ears before his arm jettisons out and grabs you by the wrist. 

Your body is spun around and pulled into him, your back flush against his warm chest as he leans himself back against the wall. His hand shoots up to cover over your mouth, cupping across your cheeks to stifle any sound that may come from the shock of his action. Sure enough you gasp into his palm as he straps you to his chest by locking you in place with his other arm. 

“You’re not goin’ anywhere, princess,” he grunts lowly into your ear. 

Stoic and silent he pushes a knee up through the gap in your legs to widen them before his hand slinks down your abdomen, over your pants, and comes to rest against your sex. That large palm now nestled in between your thighs presses up into you and it only takes a few seconds for Simon to realize that he can feel the lips of your pussy straight through the thin fabric of your pants without any barrier. No panties, really?

You fucking witch. You planned this, didn’t you?

There are still soldiers hanging about, out of sight for the moment, but still not something that is conducive for such an encounter. He wouldn’t risk something like this…would he? What you think is going to be a quick touch and pull back turns into his hand locking to your pussy as he begins to massage it through your pants. He pushes his fingers up through the cloth until he can feel the outline of your clit on his fingertips.

A quiet chuckle falls from your lips behind his handmade muzzle as his fingers make contact with the crotch of your shorts and you feel his chest jerk as he struggles to catch his breath. Feel something you like, lieutenant? you think as the corners of your mouth upturn against his skin. 

A moan barely squeaks out from around his hand before he presses it harder against your lips. “Don’t need someone catchin’ us, do we? Not til I’m finished with ya.”

Those heated words cause your heart to race violently, thudding strong against your ribcage to match a certain throbbing growing in strength between your thighs. 

“You gonna keep quiet?” he asks and you nod in his hand. “Don’t make me regret it or else, princess.”

Simon removes his palm and wraps his arms around your waist; you’re not going anywhere. “We could still get caught, you know,” you say softly, stumbling over your words as his fingers continue to play.

“Ya should've thought of that before ya tempted me with this fuckin’ skin, luv,” he murmurs against the side of your head. There is no way in hell you are getting out of these shorts without him fucking you out of them, he will stop only when he can feel a wet spot soaking through the crotch. “ ‘Sides, maybe I want that prick that had his fuckin’ hands on ya ta see that he doesn’t stand a chance.” 

He won’t, he has never been the type to share but the threat serves its purpose. The boys at the pool table continue to distract themselves, but who knows how long that will last. If they come creeping over, there is no way they won’t instantly know what is happening. And yet over and over his large fingers grind against your clit until it begins to ache. 

“Gimme your hand,” he searches for the appendage, only to be met with resistance once he locates it. 

“I said give,” he reiterates the point in that more authoritative tone he is used to using with his men.

You shake your head that still rests in his grasp; you don’t want to make this easy for him. If he wants something he is going to have to work for it. Encapsulating your wrist in his hand, the muscles along his forearm strain as he drags your arm up from your side. He takes your hand firmly in his, fingers lacing themselves over the top of your own as he descends them both down the front of your body and slips them into the waistband of your shorts. No time is wasted in bringing them directly between your legs, parting through your warm, soft lips, and nestling both sets of fingers inside. 

“Gonna need ya ta participate in this part,” he says, low and bassey at the side of your face. “You’re fuckin’ achin’ bad, aren’t ya? Christ luv, I can already feel how swollen your clit is.”

Simon keeps your conjoined fingers resting up against that tiny bundle of nerves. There is a tension-filled pause as he takes a deep, labored breath as the end of his thought hangs anxiously in the air, waiting for him to finish it. His lips are right at the threshold of your earlobe, you can feel their presence as they ghost near the tender flesh, the skin tingling as his warm breath wafts over the area.

You suddenly realize the lack of oxygen filling your lungs as he finally speaks. “Let’s make it worse,” he growls. 

A shiver snakes through your spine as he forces your fingers to work in tandem with his in rolling circles over your sensitive clit, stroking again and again in a steady rhythm that he has set. 

“Best hope they decide to leave soon, sweetheart,” he breathes the words into your ear as he rests his forehead against your temple. “Cause if ya want me to let ya fuckin’ come, they’re gonna have to be gone. Until then we’re just gonna have to keep ya wet and fuckin’ ready.”

His phallus pulses against your ass through his pants, bobbing with his racing heartbeat as it prods into the cheek of your ass. A struggled, shaky breath escapes your lips as he moves his hips to press it into you; your sanity is hanging on by a thread. All you want is for him to bend you over, rip your shorts down, and thrust inside, but no matter how much you rub against it he does not take the bait.

Time passes so much slower as you stay strapped to him, his hand and yours shoved down the front of your shorts keeping you wet. Your sanity is beginning to wane; no one should be expected to keep it together when a lover who knows your body like the back of his hand is using everything to his advantage to keep you aching.

Pressure gathering in the pit of your stomach only to dissipate before it can ever come to fruition, over and over Simon brings you to the brink only to back off once you get close enough. It feels like eternity in the haze of his capable fingers working your body before the men finally decide that they have had enough with standing around the quiet center when the local bar is just a short drive down the road and head out, completely forgetting that they haven’t seen either you or the lieutenant for quite some time, but they also haven’t seen either of you leave. 

The moment the door shuts and the last sounds of talking can be heard drifting off into the distance, you are released and again turned only to be shoved back against the wall. Simon is immediately pressed against you, one knee collapsing into the wall between your legs as your hands greedily claw at the cloth gathered at base of his neck, fingers pulling up the bottom of his mask without hindrance so that they can get underneath it and push it up to expose his hungry mouth. A devilish, toothy grin waits to meet you as the fabric is removed; he’s proud of the desperation he has left you in. 

“They’re gone,” you say with a heavy bit of neediness. “I did what you said.” 

“Ya want me ta give it to ya now, that it?” he asks with a smug sense of self satisfaction. 

“You promised,” you shoot back, the agony of waiting becoming unbearable the longer he takes. 

His face inches in closer to yours, hot breath meeting and wafting over the skin on your lips as he exhales. “Ya think this is gonna be some sorta reward?” he asks, his voice lowering into the deeper part of his register, that gravely vibrato that turns your legs into jelly just from the sound.  

Those full lips of his ghost over your own, making the skin quiver from the proximity. Your mouth parts open as suddenly you feel like you can’t get enough air while waiting in misery for him to break and crash on you with all of his desire. A breathy gasp escapes through the gap as that thick thigh of his presses up into your pussy. He has you right where he wants you now.  

“Ya still got a fuckin’ lesson ta learn, princess,” he says. “So, I’m gonna have ta fuck the attitude til it comes drippin’ right out of ya.” 

And with that he leans down and forcefully connects your lips together so that your head hits the wall behind you. Fiery and aggressive he embraces your mouth again and again, lips fighting for dominance with each new connection. Breath and spit are shared as the wet smacking sounds of skin on skin hits the air and fills up the quiet of the place. 

You haven’t gotten your fill yet, but suddenly you find your body being lifted into the air and carelessly flung over one of his broad shoulders as he drags you back into the middle of the room. He eyes his destination the moment it comes into view from around the wall and quickly makes his way over to it; somewhere he can put you so he can get to work.

Your backside makes contact with the smooth felt of the pool table as Simon sets you down on top of it. The cool surface of the rails raises goosebumps on the back of your thighs as he situates you right at the edge. No longer pressed together, a spot of cold radiates from his thigh and he looks down to see a present you have left for him right on the fabric.

“Look what ya did,” he growls, pointing to the obviously darker patch on the inner thigh of his jeans. “Made a fuckin’ mess.”

“Whose…ng…fucking fault is that?” you whimper, adjusting yourself as every little movement puts pressure on your aching clit. 

“And I’d do it again ta keep my brat in line,” he smirks as his irises sparkle like a predator locking on to its prey. “Now, open your fuckin’ legs.”

You widen the gap between your thighs more, but he still has to use his hips to shove them open enough that he can fit in until he is right up against you. The sharp edge of his teeth cuts into the plump flesh of your bottom lip as he sucks it into his mouth to give it a hard nip. He swallows down the harsh groan you produce at his delicious brand of roughness like it’s honey. Every single sound you make in response to his actions is music to his ears. 

“Need ya ta know this type a shit isn’t gonna fly with me.”

Fingertips play around the perimeter of your cunt until he hooks them through the cool, damp crotch of your pants and wrenches them to the side to expose your entrance. “Let’s ruin these fuckin’ things,” he smugly says as he works with one hand to undo his pants and slide both that and his boxers down his thighs until his cock pops out of the waistband and stands hard and throbbing for you. “Don’t ever wanna see these goddamn things again after tonight.”

His vice-like grip on the crotch of your shorts causes a few of the overly taut threads to snap as he holds the fabric out of his way to align the swollen head of his cock with that dripping, aching hole he’s been working so that it’s already ready to take him in. You can feel the tip of his hard girth push against the moist skin before he bucks his hips and it strains through the barrier. His grip moves to your waist to force your body further down on him as you whine, the stretch overwhelming, but divine. 

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it, princess? Why you wore these tight fuckin’ things, yeah? Ya tryin’ ta make me take ya like an animal?” he grunts, the feel of your tight, silky walls fluttering around his cock as he fills you full threatening to send him straight to hell. 

“The moment I saw ya in ‘em I thought I was gonna lose control. Been a while since I had ya. That on purpose too?”   

You fall backward against the table, your back arching up off it and your eyes roll back into your head as he pulls you down while slamming the length of his phallus up into you until he reaches the base. He doesn’t give you a moment to gather your sanity and instead snaps his hips into you, the intensity in each stroke causing your body to jolt over the felted surface. 

“Look at me,” he grunts as he reaches out to grab at your chin and pull you back up to him, “look - at - me.”

You’re unable to deny him when he’s thrusting so deep and your eyes open to meet his gaze again. “You’re mine, ya hear?” he breathes the words desperate and firm. “Nobody else can look at ya like this, got it? Nobody.”

His breath hitches a moment as a shudder runs through his cock from the way you tighten around it. “Those boys out there mighta gotten a show tonight, but that’s the last they’ll ever get,” he growls more intensely. “Don’t even want ‘em to think they have a fuckin’ chance wit ya cause you belong ta me. You were made for me, princess. Only me.”

Harder and harder he pounds into your pussy with a need that feels like it cannot be quenched no matter how deep he goes. “And nobody else - nobody else- ya don’t need anyone else ‘sides me. Say it.” 

A pathetic whimper is all he gets in response as his cock digs in deep, but that isn’t good enough. You’re gonna do exactly as he says and repeat it - out loud. His grip around your face tightens.

“Say it,” he demands again. 

“Don’t… need a-anyone…else…” you stammer out as it is a struggle now to speak. 

Then you hear it, the distinct sound of fabric beginning to rip. The seam along the crotch has had too much strain put on it and it is starting to give, threads ripping more steadily the harder Simon thrusts. God, that sound is the catalyst to you suddenly feeling wild, like all you want him to do is shred the fucking things off of you by screwing you out of them. It’s at that moment that familiar warmth begins to gather in your belly. It won’t be long now and you’ll be spilling.

“Say: you’re the only one I fuckin’ want,” he insists as he clenches to make his cock pulse inside of you.

Simon’s wide hand slides down from your chin to just at the base of your throat where he wraps it around and gives it a light squeeze for emphasis. The pressure feels like heaven amongst all the stimulation and trying to keep your eyes on him and speak at the same time is nearly impossible, but find your words soon enough.

You lick your parched lips. “You’re the only one I want, Simon,” you moan.

“Again.”

“You’re the only one I will ever want, Simon.”

Another couple of desperately strong thrusts. “And you’re gonna listen from now on, yeah?”

“Yes!” you blurt out.

He pulls you by the throat so that you meet him in a kiss as his hips never stop snapping into you. “Such a fuckin’ obedient girl for me,” he groans against your mouth as he breaks free from it. “Now, let’s make ya come so ya never fuckin’ forget who it is that ya belong to.”

Releasing your neck, Simon brings his hand down, parting through your dripping lips to find your clit so that he can rub over it as he thrusts. There is not much more you can take now; all his work before has done its job to perfection and your body is falling apart so rapidly it feels like the nosedive off that first ddrop of a rollercoaster. 

“G-gonna… gonna come, baby,” you stammer out. You bring your lips in closer to his, desperate to kiss him again, but the pleasure is just too much to handle that you devolve into simply panting instead. 

He inhales in ragged breaths the sweet air from your mouth, his teeth grinding together the harder he thrusts. All those days without you have been frustrating as he waited for you to come crawling back. He missed the feeling of you wrapped around him and right now he needs you to come on his cock. 

But this isn’t going to teach you what he wants. Pulling out amidst your whined protests, he pulls you off the table onto your feet and spins you around before pushing your upper body down while guiding you to spread your stance wider and ripping the crotch of your pants aside again, this time he doesn’t hesitate to enter you.

From this angle the penetration is even deeper and as his finger finds that tiny bud of nerve endings again, you are right back where you want to be - a mess ready to explode.   

“Come for me.” He is demanding while trying to hold it all together. “Now.”

Harder and harder he pushes, thrusting and stroking, and like the flick of a switch all that heat and all that pressure culminates in an explosion that has you crying out loudly as you come with force, your back arching to pull you away from his grasp. Waves wash through your body as the intensity of your orgasm shakes through you until your legs are vibrating around his hips. 

The moment you cry out he allows himself to let go, finally finished with his task, and fucking you through your orgasm he comes so hard that he has to grab the sides of the pool table to keep himself upright. Grunting like an animal he coats your walls and thrusts his cum continuously back up into you until he is spent and cannot go another second. 

Simon stays inside as you both come back down from that exhilarating high, two glistening bodies conjoined at the forehead with eyes closed until he has enough strength to pull his sensitive cock carefully out of you. Both of your mixed juices follow his cock out, dribbling out of your entrance to collect in the crotch of your pants as they snap back into place now that there is nothing keeping them pushed aside. 

You flip yourself back over and lean against the edge of the table to look down at what’s left of your shorts. They are completely soaked, drenched in so much of your juices that they look wet. The ruined fabric clings to your body as if it’s glued on and you are left feeling cold down there as Simon pulls away.

“That’s better,” he says with satisfaction as he studies his handiwork of the ripped, saturated fabric. “And so is this.”

A more gentle kiss is placed on your lips this time, one in praise of you doing so well for him. You reciprocate the feeling by cupping his face in your hands.

“And we’re not gonna have any more a this, right?” he asks as he pulls from your mouth.

Looking into his eyes, a subtle smirk contours your lips. “We’ll see,” you say as Simon shakes his head.

He wouldn’t expect anything less.

“So,” you continue, “I’m just wondering if you thought about how I’m going to leave here, now that I look like this. Gonna need something so I don’t have to cross base.” 

Across the way he spots a random jacket hanging off the back of a chair, left by one of the privates no doubt. Looks big enough and he returns with it in hand. Carefully he circles the sleeves around your body and ties them in front to cover you until you can get back to your room and change. Don’t need anyone seeing anything they shouldn’t.

“I did really like these by the way,” you pick as Simon pulls you by the knot in the sleeves wrapped around your waist back into him to catch your lips one last time with his.  

“Don’t ya worry, sweetheart, I’m gonna be gettin’ you a new pair, ones that I chose,” he says. “Cause I’m gonna be the only one that gets to enjoy this fuckin’ view from now on. And it’s a view you’re gonna give me ‘gain and again, darlin’.”

[yanderenightmare]

L "Lawliet"

rewatched Death Note and just couldn't resist...

TW: strict schooling ig, orphan reader, creepy behavior

gn reader

You were placed in Wammy’s House at an age you don’t remember. To you and most of the orphans here, it’s been your entire lives. Birthdays aren’t celebrated. The days are cold, the residents even colder. There was a time when you’d consider them brothers and sisters, but that’s also long ago now. No one is close to each other in this house.

It’s a rather stale existence with boring conditions unfit for normal children – the solitude, the competition, the games, always a ploy to make each other feel worthless. And for what… more riddles to solve?

You’d long lost interest in proving yourself among the prodigies. When you were given puzzles, you always played with them differently than the rest. They’d tell you to fill out the sheets, and you ended up making origami swans instead.

Looking around at the others, you knew you would never understand them – all blank faces staring into space. They all make you uneasy. You don’t know if it’s you or them that’s missing something, but you recognize it’s a rather pointless question to be begged. 

So you leave your paper flock on the floor and walk away.

You’d started putting the chisel of a black marker to the library books in your spare time – trying to make something else out of the boring pages. Something more palatable than the droning of law and policy you’d already read ten times over.

You had blacked out the word doppelganger when there came a disturbance.

“You had 84% of them right.”

You peeked up from the book, lowering your knees from where you had them tucked close for privacy – sitting on the floor between two bookshelves – a little nook you’d discovered to hide yourself from the rest of the busy readers in the usually crowded library.

It was empty now. Everyone was otherwise busy with the test still.

And yet, a mess of black hair was crouched down in front of you, shadowing his equally dark eyes. He held your swans unfolded in his hands. It was a disturbing sight for some reason – as though he’d dissected their guts. 

“You left 16% unanswered. Most people would test their luck and guess.”

L must have been the least creative alias born in the dull walls of Wammy’s House, and yet, he’s supposed to be the brightest of all those living there. He always finishes your tests early and leaves in favor of his own devices. Much like you, you suppose. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him speak before.

Suppose it’s only courtesy you pay him the same effort even when what you really want is to tell him to leave you alone…

You narrowed your eyes a bit, looking at him.

You sensed foul play in a game you had no wish to partake in but moved across the board like a sacrificial pawn anyway. That’s how you play these things, after all – never show your cards.

“There’s nothing to guess.” You sigh – despite knowing he already knows all this. “The blanks are trick questions.”

“So you noticed, too?” His eyes are like inkblots – much like those spills you’ve made in your book when you let the marker rest too long. He dropped your papers between you in favor of gripping his knees, leaning forward. “We’re the only ones.”

You purse your lips at his eagerness. You should have played dumb from the start – should have said you swiped the answer sheet from the headmaster’s office. He’d only spoken all but four sentences, and you were already exhausted. Any conversation with any one of your peers was like an interrogation.

“You started folding paper cranes when I was 94% done. Easy logistics would put you 6% ahead of me. But, unlike me, it didn’t seem you were filling out the answer sheets in any hurry. In fact… you seemed bored. And in that case, I’d put you around 16%, no... 18% ahead of me.”

You allowed the following silence to inform him that his ramblings were boring you. But it didn't seem he took the hint – showing no signs he planned on leaving.

Your eyes grew more jaded.

“Paper swans.” You corrected blandly. “You know my alias is Swan.”

You clapped your book together and sighed again.

“And we both know you were finished long before I started folding them.” 

He had a small smile on his face. It looked as if you’d drawn it on with your marker.

“You can state all the percentages in the world to try and confuse me, but your mind games won’t get under my skin for one single simple reason, L…” You got up and brushed off the dust, then walked away while saying, “I’m not interested in playing – not with you or anyone else in this miserable place. So do me a favor and leave me alone.”

L watches you leave and taps his lips with his pointer.

Puzzles and answer sheets have bored him for a while. Maybe he ought to play with you instead…

[flemingsfreckles]

Jealousy (18+)

Synopsis: Your current girlfriend doesn’t take well to the fact that you have to go play with your ex during international break. When your ex calls you after the game, she makes sure you both know who you belong to.

Warnings: smut!!!! Oral sex (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), possessive sex, risky sex, having sex while someone else is on the phone (idk if there’s a name for that), semi-public sex, edging, marking, dirty talk, language.

WC: 4.1k

A/N: this fic was pretty much entirely inspired by @waltzinglikewearein1698 who gave me this suggestion back in maybe June? I’ve finally gotten around to writing it, hope you all enjoy ;)

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright?” Jessie came up, plopping herself down on the bed next to your suitcase.

“I feel like I should be asking you that.” You looked up from your phone to your girlfriend.

“Why? You’re the one who has to go play with their ex again, not me.” Jessie questions, heading over to her closet to begin picking out clothing to put in the bag.

You looked at her again, puzzled look across your own face. “That’s exactly why I feel like I should be asking you. You don’t need to reassure me, I want to make sure you’re comfortable. How are you feeling that I’m going to be seeing her?”

“Fine, I mean I don’t love the idea obviously but I’m more worried it’ll be weird or uncomfortable for you.” Jessie shrugged. “I’m not concerned about her and you, I trust you, I know there’s nothing between you two anymore.”

“I mean it’ll be weird, it’s the first time we’ve played together since we’ve broken up, but it’ll be fine.” You finally pull yourself off the bed, heading to the closet to grab your own suitcase.

You and Cameron had broken up over 2 years ago, but a mix of injuries between the two of you had kept you from having to play on the same national team until the upcoming camp. You had felt a little uneasy knowing you’d see her again.

Your breakup had been amicable, when she had been given an opportunity to leave England and go play back in her home state for Orlando, you couldn’t hold her back. You had loved her so much, you had to let her go. Things worked for only a few weeks, it was hard, taking a toll on both of you emotionally which led to a physical toll as well.

It wasn’t an easy decision but after two months of putting your time and effort into each other, you and Cameron sat down and decided long distance wasn’t made for the two of you. In a tearful agreement, you decided to, with heavy hearts, split and go your separate ways.

Trying to be friends hadn’t worked either, for the first few months after the breakup you were in off season and you found yourself on a flight to Orlando, within hours of landing in Florida, you found yourself in the bed of a familiar body. You both swore every time it wouldn’t happen again, but it did. You were a frequent visitor to her, each visit ending with the two of you tangled in bedsheets, making your feelings even more confusing. The two of you continued on, unable to cut yourselves from each other's lives completely, still emotionally tied. It was toxic, only hurting yourselves further by continuing to see each other. So you finally cut it off. Just before you returned to England you both sat down, establishing you’d both move on.

You’d gone no contact for those next 20 months, only for it to be broken by your simultaneous call ups into the most recent camp. Which led you to this conversation with your current girlfriend.

You and Jessie started dating over a year after your breakup with Cameron. You two had met at Chelsea and you couldn’t ignore your sudden attraction toward the Canadian. She was soft spoken and one of the smartest people you knew. She knew how to make you laugh in any situation, even if you were upset, angry, frustrated. She brought the best out in you, which was quickly noticed by some of your teammates who teased you endlessly until you finally mustered the courage to ask her out.

She had happily agreed to the coffee date and the two of you had quickly fallen for each other, dating for just under a year. You had aired out your relationship with your ex to Jessie, being honest with her about your history and feelings. She hadn’t been bothered, trusting you and the relationship the two of you had built, never once had you given a reason for her not to trust you do she didn’t.

Seeing Cameron for the first time was less awkward than you had expected. You’d end up sitting at the same table at dinner, exchanging pleasantries while keeping up conversation with your other table mates. Cameron had asked about Jessie, saying she was happy for you and that the Canadian seemed to make you really happy. She then jokes that you must have a thing for captains, pointing out the fact that she was the captain for her club and was also on occasion a captain for the national team.

That was something you had forgotten about, the fact that not only would your girlfriend and ex be playing against each other, they’d be captaining their respective teams against each other.

You swallowed hard watching as your girlfriend and ex girlfriend stood face to face the next day, an awkward handshake being exchanged between them as they stood listening to the referees. You were sure to the outside world it didn’t look uncomfortable or tense, but to you it felt that way. It especially felt that way when both girls' eyes found their way to you as they were dismissed from their meeting. You immediately looked to the ground, wanting to avoid whatever tension the two had.

“That wasn’t tense at all.” Unsure of who said it you send a glare down the line of your teammates, a couple of them giggling to themselves.

The game itself felt relatively uneventful. A few decent shots from both sides but the game ultimately ending in a draw 2-2. It had been easy to fall into the mindset of the game, not remembering you were playing alongside your ex, against your girlfriend, and against a couple of your club teammates, it was just another game.

When the game finished you wandered about, signing a few things, taking some photos, chatting with your teammates as well as a couple of the Canadians.

You feel the back of your shirt get tugged on and you turn to see Jessie, red cheeks from her 90 minutes of playing looking at you. ”Meet me once you’re changed.” That’s all she says before starting to walk away.

“Okay, you alright?” You question, her noticing the negativity in her tone. You knew she hated drawing, she always wanted to win but it was a good game you figured she wouldn’t be that upset over it.

“I’m fine.” She said in a tone that makes it very clear to you she was not fine. She was pissed off and it seemed like at you.

You waited outside the Canadian locker room for a few minutes, before sending Jessie a text letting her know you were there. Seconds after the text was read, the door comes flying open and out comes your girlfriend, a scowl still on her face.

“Hi.” You try to be chipped, hoping to lighten her mood.

“Not here.” Is all she says before her hand finds yours and she begins pulling you down the hallway. The two of you turn a few corners before she swings open a door.

“What’s your deal?” You turned, confused look on your face as your girlfriend stomps you into an unoccupied bathroom, locking the door behind her. She points at the largest stall, a firm look across her face. You turn so she doesn’t see you rolling your eyes as you obey her request.

She closes the door behind both of you and before you can repeat your question and ask what’s wrong she pushes you against the wall, one hand on your hips the other on your chin holding your face to kiss her.

“You’re mine.” She grumbles into your ear before her tongue drags slowly across the lobe before up and around. You gently toss back your head at the feeling of her breath on your ear. You gently push Jessie back your hands on her shoulders, your fingers keeping her close by gripping her shirt.

“Oh my god.” You can’t help but let out a small laugh before holding it in as Jessie gives you a disapproving stare. “You’re jealous.” You feel the smirk grow across your lips. Jessie wasn’t one to be jealous, she was protective, she liked that people knew you were taken but in public she was never one to be overbearing.

“I’m not. I just don’t like seeing your ex jump into your arms in celebration, that should be me, not her!”

You knew that was going to come back to get you. You had scored off a beautiful pass from Cameron, when you turned to celebrate with your team, she was flying at you, jumping into your arms. Instinctively you had wrapped your arms around her, before the rest of your team joined in on the group hug. When the crowd finally dissipated, you had made eye contact with the unpleasant expression across Jessie’s face. You didn’t think much of her glare in that moment, thinking it was more of a frustration to your team taking the lead.

“That’s the definition of jealousy, you’re jealous Jessie.” You say flatly to her.

“I just want to make sure you know and she knows, you’re mine.” She confirms her jealousy as her lips latch onto your lower neck and you feel her sucking harshly.

“Jess!” You grab the back of her head, fingers tangled in her hair. “You’re going to leave a mark!”

“I know.” She mumbles once she releases your skin. “That’s the point.” Her lips find the other side of your neck, sucking harshly again. Feeling your knees grow weak at the sensation you brace yourself on Jessie’s shoulders.

“Babe.”

“Shhhh, I’ve got you.” Jessie’s arms hold your waist firmly, aiding you in standing. She adds one more mark to your neck before putting her lips back on yours, her hand on the back of your head pulling you into her. The kiss is heated, passes of her tongue, gentle bites on your lips, it was a kiss the two of you often shared in private, not in a public place. Jessie’s hands found their way all over your body, squeezing at your chest and ass, under your shirt causing your skin to prickle under her touch.

When Jessie finally pulled away you expected her to unlock the door and the two of you to leave. But that’s not what she did. You watched, eyes locked on hers as she slowly lowered her hands to your hips before following them with the rest of her body, bending down.

Now kneeling in front of you, Jessie’s fingers dig into the waistband of your sweats. She takes a moment to glance at you, waiting for permission. Despite her suddenly controlling nature, she still had to make sure you wanted it.

“Seriously?” You couldn’t help but ask. You’d brought up the idea of semi-public sex before to Jessie, she always rejected the idea. you had always thought the added risk was fun, she did not. She had no interest in being caught or heard, at least she usually didn’t.

“Yes, if you want.” Jessie’s jealous demeanor fades for a second as she looks up at you, still awaiting your permission.

“Uh, yeah, yeah of course, just hadn’t expected it.” You nod at her. Needing no further confirmation Jessie yanks everything down your legs leaving you exposed to her.

“Need to prove your mine.” She mumbles quietly. You watch as she licks her lips, looking from your pussy up to your eyes before back down.

“Wow baby,” Jessie looks up at you with a smirk, “dripping for me and I haven’t even touched you.” She brings her hands to your thighs pushing them apart more to fully expose your core. “Did you ever get this wet for her?” Jessie asks as she runs two fingers through you before holding them up to show you how they glistened with your arousal.

Shaking your head quickly you reassure her. “No Jessie, only you.”

“Only me huh? Cameron never got you dripping like this?” Still stunned by your girlfriend’s mood, it takes you a second to respond, giving her time to dip her fingers back, gathering even more of your slick, this time giving a slow, firm circle to your clit.

“Only you Jessie.” You breathe out.

“Good girl, all mine.” She praises before grabbing your thigh and placing it over her shoulder. Taking a couple minutes she just admires your core, suddenly feeling self conscious under her stare you try and pinch your thighs together. Jessie’s hands come up to stop you, keeping your thighs apart. “Don’t hide, let me see my pussy.” She looks up at you. “That’s what it is, right? My pussy?”

“All yours Jessie, it’s yours.”

“So perfect for me.” She whispers before bringing her face to meet your core. She places a couple quick and teasing kisses on your inner thighs before running her tongue through you. Already feeling worked up you buck your hips as her tongue flicks across your clit.

She teases around the bundle of nerves, tracing light circles around it before she’d give it a firm lick making you groan before returning to the light circles.

“Jess, hurry up, we don’t have a lot of time.”

“Excuse me.”

“I, I just, I want to cum for you.” Silently using your eyes to beg her, you hope she’ll give in, making it seem like it was a reward for her, not just to satisfy you.

“Hmmm.” Jessie says bringing her fingers to again run along your thighs, just to the peak teasing before coming back down your leg to your knee.

You start to feel a vibration by your feet, your first thought is one of shock that your girlfriend brought a toy with her, before you realize it was your phone ringing. Jessie’s eyes open and she gives you one last pass of her tongue before pulling back much to your dismay.

“Just ignore it.” You whine, not caring about the phone call, you could call them back. Reaching your hand on the back of Jessie’s head you try to coax her back between your legs.

“Let’s see who’s calling you.” Jessie looks up at you before reaching into the pocket of your shorts that lay at your feet. You watch as Jessie’s eyebrows raise before she turns the phone to you.

Cameron’s name is across the screen.

“Answer it.” Jessie reaches up to hand you the phone.

You looked down at Jessie, fully thinking she was joking with you, but the expression on her face tells you she’s being serious. She wanted you to answer the phone while she fucked you. “Jessie no, not while-”

“I said answer it.” Jessie barks up at you. She wasn’t one to normally demand anything from you, you were seeing a whole new side of your girlfriend today. Your hand reached out slowly grabbing the phone, your thumb sliding across the screen to answer the call.

“Hey, what’s up?” You tried to sound normal as you answered, trying to control your breathing.

“Just wanted to see where you were at? Bus leaves in 35.”

As if Jessie knew it was your turn to respond, she leaned forward her tongue finding its way back between your already slick folds, landing right on your clit. You felt your breath catch in your throat at the sensation

“Uh,” you clear your throat as a moan threatens to escape as Jessie begins to suck where you need her most. “I um, I know, I’m, I went for a walk, just to,” you have to pull the phone away from your face to take a breath, you see Jessie shoot a glare in your direction when you pull the phone away.

“Answer her.” She mouths before returning her face between your legs.

“I just went to see Jessie, I,” you feel Jessie’s fingers begin to tease your entrance. She lets them just barely stretch you out before pulling them back and repeating the teasing thrust. “I told Coffey, I’ll be back for the bus.” You manage to whimper out.

“You alright?” Cameron asks, clearly noticing the change in your voice.

“Yeah I’m,” you throw your other hand across your mouth as Jessie begins to pump her fingers in and out of you. It takes biting your hand to keep a loud moan from escaping. Instead just a small whine comes out. “I’m good.”

You can hear your teammates chatting in the background of Cameron’s call and you just hope the phone isn’t able to pick up on the sounds coming from the stall. Between your own whimpering, the sounds of Jessie drinking you in and the wetness of her fingers you weren’t sure what would be more embarrassing. “I’m fine.” You stumble over your words, assuring your teammate you’re alright.

“Okay, hang on.” You hear Cameron start talking across the room to someone else, giving you the chance to let out a much needed moan of Jessie’s name.

“Fuck Jess, please.” You can practically feel the girl smile against your skin and she continues to fuck you, the suction of her lips releasing for a moment as she smiles before she returns sucking with more force than before. you can feel the way her fingers are stretching you out, hitting the spots she knows will get you to finish.

“What?” Cameron says into the phone.

“Fuck.” You whisper before catching yourself. “Nothing, nothing, I didn’t say, I said nothing.” Your heart is racing, the nerves of being caught mixed with the adrenaline of being caught keeping your emotions at an all time high.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yep.” The word squeaks out. Now you’re starting to panic. The tightness in your stomach and the way you're clenching around Jessie’s fingers is enough to know you’re only a few moments away from finishing. You couldn’t orgasm while on the phone. You definitely couldn’t orgasm while on the phone with your ex.

You did your best to send a pleading look down at Jessie but it was no use as her eyes were closed, fully immersing herself into you. Reaching down you grab her hair, pulling it hard, causing her eyes to flutter open.

“Please” you mean to just mouth the word in your girlfriend’s direction but it comes out as a soft whine. So focused on keeping your composure, your ears have started to go fuzzy, as has your vision. You hear Cameron say something back to you in response to your quiet beg but you can’t comprehend it. That’s when you start shaking your head, trying to let you know you can’t hold it any longer, your eyes beginning to water. A feeling of panic begins to flood your body.

You feel Jessie’s hand grab at yours, taking the phone away. Then you feel her mouth leave your clit, her right hand still thrusting, keeping you on edge. “Hey Cameron, sorry, she’s busy doing something, or I guess you could say I’m busy doing her, I’ll have her talk to you later.”

Your eyes fly open at Jessie’s words, she wasn’t a prude by any means but she usually kept your sex life relatively private. You hadn’t expected Jessie to tell Cameron that she was actively fucking you.

“I” Cameron tries to respond but is cut off by the dial tone indicating Jessie had hung up.

“That’ll prove you’re mine if those pretty marks don’t do the trick.” She says smugly before dropping your phone onto the pile of clothing. “You can cum, just make sure if anyone hears you, they know it’s me making you feel this good and not her.”

She quickly puts her face back into you, her tongue and lips not teasing anymore, immediately sucking and flicking your clit in the way she knows will have you falling apart.

“Jessie, fuck.” She hums, pleased with the way you’re saying her name. You can feel your knees growing weak, more of your weird being rested onto Jessie’s shoulder. Your hands pull her hair even tighter as you grind yourself onto her face. “Oh my god, oh fuck, Jessie.”

The feeling of pleasure races through your body, your eyes slamming shut, Jessie name escaping your lips in a deep groan as you grab her hair tighter. Collapsing your upper body over as you continue to buck your hips against Jessie’s face.

Continuing to fuck you through your orgasm Jessie only slows once she hears your quiet whine of “I can’t.” Knowing she had pushed you far enough, she eases up, pulling her mouth off of you and stalling her fingers deep inside of you.

You remain bent over for a minute, your stomach resting on top of Jessie’s head, covering her body with your own. Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you try to catch your breath. “Holy shit.”

“Good?” Jessie mumbles from under your body. You feel her shift slightly and you finally stand back up, resting against the wall of the stall again.

“Fuck, yeah, that was, good Jess, so good.” You try to string together a coherent thought, your brain still rattled from the last half hour.

“Yay!” You can’t help but laugh at her excitement before she adds. “I can’t believe I made you talk on the phone while I fucked you.” You watch her eyes grow wider. “I can’t believe I told your ex I was doing you!”

“Babe, it’s fine, she’s not going to care.” You put your hands on her face, caressing her cheeks as you watched her suddenly become very shy about her actions.

Your phone dings, interrupting your peace with Jessie. Not even reading the notification you see the time displayed on your phone. A wave of panic takes you out of your post orgasm bliss. “Oh shit! I have to go, our bus is leaving in two minutes.” You say. Jessie immediately grabs your sweats and panties that she had quickly ripped off before. She holds them both open for you to step into before pulling them up to your hips.

She stands up, you can smell yourself lingering on her chin and lips as she leans in to kiss you. “I love you, let me know when you get back to the hotel safely.”

“I will, you too.” You remind her.

“I will.”

“I love you.” You say, smiling at her as she followed you out of the stall into the rest of the restroom.

“I love you, sorry about the marks.” It’s only now that Jessie seems to have actually noticed the damage she did to your neck, her face a look of concern as she stares at the hickeys.

“It’s alright, the teasing will be worth it, and I’ll make you pay for it when we’re back home tomorrow.” You give her one final kiss as the two of you exit the bathroom and split ways.

You made a quick run through the stadium, making your way out to the line of your teammates waiting to get on the bus. Hoping you’d hide away in the back you didn’t make it known to anyone you had arrived.

“Hmm, nice ‘walk’ you went on.” Sam says coming up to you pulling at the collar of your shirt, further exposing the markings Jessie had left. ”Jessie must be a rough walker.”

“Shut it.”

“Where did you two even-” She starts to ask.

“I’m not answering that.” You interrupt her sternly, holding. A hand up to stop what she was saying. You know your face is burning red, part of you hopes it’ll help the hickeys blend in with your skin.

You climbed on the bus, trying to keep your head ducked down but it was no use as you heard your teammates wolf whistle and snicker as you walked by. You slumped in your seat, pulling up your shirt, knowing you’d hear the teasing for what would probably be years to come.

You look across the aisle only to realize you had sat across from Cameron. Your eyes met for a second before you found interest in the ground. She starts to speak, laughing as she does so. “You know, next time, just don’t answer the phone.”

[lumiambrose]

sae x reader, part two to saes soft launch, fluff, part three

you haven’t caught a break since sae’s soft launch. ever since that interview you have constantly been on your toes, paranoid that if you step outside, the paparazzi will catch onto you. even though your identity is still hidden to the public eye, you couldn’t help but feel pressured every time you left the house.

tonight, however, was not the time to worry about that. today was one of your boyfriend's big games and you certainly weren't’ going to miss it for the world. it’s a crucial game for re al’s youth team, so of course, the stadium is absolutely filled to the brim. luckily you were seated in a special box which is typically reserved for vip members or relatives. it was slightly separated from the big crowds but came with a perfect view to witness sae in action. as the game progressed, you and fans alike watched him play with his usual grace and precision, every move and decision living up to his world renowned skill as a member of gen xi.

the final whistle blew, the match was over. the crowd erupted into cheers. sae's team had won. you were filled with pride being able to watch your boyfriend celebrate his hard-earned victory with his team. after all, he had put in his best effort, especially knowing that the love of his life was there to watch him in person.

sae should be celebrating. i mean, it’s an enormous win for his team but his eyes quickly scan the stands in search for yours. when he finally locks eyes with you he feels ecstatic. he broke away from his teammates and started walking towards where you were seated, his gaze unwavering from yours. as he got closer and closer, you heart started to speed up. you were filled with nervousness as you noticed the crowds gaze shift slowly over to you.

when sae reached the barrier separating the two of you, he motioned for you to come closer. full of anticipation, you made your way down, feeling the eyes of thousands of fans and the flashing cameras of the paparazzi on you.

as you reached him, sae’s expression softened. he reached out to take your hand, pulling you gently over the barrier. without a word, he wrapped his arms around you and, in front of the entire stadium, he kissed you. the world seemed to stop for a moment, and all you could feel was the warmth of his embrace and the intensity of his kiss.

after a while he pulled away and rested his forehead against yours, “the world should know how much you mean to me, amor.”

the stadium erupted into a mixture of cheers and gasps, the crowd going wild at the public display of affection from the usually reserved and stoic sae. reporters were frantically capturing the moment, and you knew this would be the headline for days to come.

later, as you walked off the field hand in hand with sae, the realisation of what had just happened began to sink in. your relationship was now officially public, for the entire world to lay their eyes upon. sae, usually so guarded and serious, had opened up a part of his world to the public, declaring his love for you in the most dramatic way possible.

back at home, the excitement from earlier still lingered. you were curled up together on the couch, with the evening news replaying the moment of your kiss on loop. sae’s arm was around you, while his fingers traced little patterns on your back.

“i hope you’re not mad,” he said quietly, his voice a mix of concern and affection.

you looked up at him, softly giggling at sae’s concern. “how could i be? you made me feel like the most special person in the world.”

he smiled at you. a rare, genuine smile that only you would ever get to experience. “you are the most special person in the world to me.”