#and the quiet when she was first introduced... chills

[starliteonearth]

Didn't expect to come out of Transformers One absolutely loving Sentinel Prime and Airachnid but I fucking loved them. Like I'm sorry but they ATE. Another iconic, unapologetically evil, cunty villain duo for the ages I fear.

[p1girlfriend]

dating a victoria’s secret model — f1 grid

🩷 Lando Norris

– posts grainy little iPhone pics of you backstage like “guess who’s the hottest girl in the world AND mine”

– jokingly calls himself your “supportive house husband”

– dies a little inside every time you walk the VS runway but plays it cool

“do you know how HARD it is to see everyone drooling over you and not jump on stage??” – 100% steals your robes to wear around the house – “how do I look babe? runway ready?” – actually watches you more than the races when you're in the crowd – fully your biggest fan (and might cry the first time he sees you in angel wings)

—

🖤 Oscar Piastri

– okay hear me out: lowkey protective boyfriend vibes

– “I’m not jealous, just... do they need to be that close to you backstage?”

– stares at your photo shoots in awe like you’re not the same girl currently sitting on him in a hoodie

– buys every magazine you’re in, quietly keeps them stacked in his drawer

– if someone says something rude about you? cue his dry clapback

“must be exhausting having that much free time and zero taste.” – acts chill in public, panics internally every time he sees you on a billboard “that’s literally my girlfriend. how is this my life.”

—

❤️ Charles Leclerc

– you walk into a room and he literally goes “mamma mia.”

– attends every show possible, front row, flowers in hand

– gets distracted during interviews because he saw a new photo of you on his phone

– brags to his brothers constantly

“did you see the photoshoot? mon dieu.” – you tease him by posing in lingerie around the house and he literally has to sit down – WILL post thirst traps of you with the caption “mine.” – very soft behind closed doors. always tracing your collarbones and whispering, “how did I get this lucky?”

—

💋 Carlos Sainz

– your #1 hype man. reposts everything. compliments everything.

– “this outfit? you’ll make the whole paddock faint.”

– pretends to get annoyed when photographers ask to take pictures of you, but secretly proud as hell

– gets way too into giving you massages after long shoot days

– tries to act like he’s not obsessed with your runway walk — fails every time

“i don’t care how many people saw it. i saw it first.”

—

🌈 Lewis Hamilton

– matches your fashion slay every step of the way

– probably introduces you to designers because he’s that proud

– whispers affirmations to you before big shows

“go shine. go kill it. you’re a queen, love.” – brings you backstage flowers, then kisses you like you're the only one there – makes sure no one talks over you in a room – genuinely in awe of your power and elegance “they think i’m the star, but i know who really is.”

—

💛 Daniel Ricciardo

– oh he’s OBSESSED OBSESSED

– will post the thirstiest thirst trap of you with the caption “the wife 🫡”

– calls you “my angel” every chance he gets

– definitely tries on your wings at least once and makes it a whole thing

– shows your photos to everyone

“this is her, guys. this is the legend. and she eats cereal in my bed.” – doesn’t get jealous, just clingy after shows “you were so hot out there. now come sit on my lap immediately.”

—

💙 Max Verstappen

– doesn’t say much online but is deeply ride-or-die behind the scenes

– stares at your pics for way too long and just goes,

“...wow.” – holds your hand so tightly at events – “I like when people know you’re with me.” – isn’t threatened by the attention, but gets extra soft with you after – lays in bed at 2am scrolling your VS TikToks and texting “can’t sleep, you’re too hot” – you: “i thought you were the serious one” – him: “not about you.”

—

💗 Lance Stroll

– quiet but SO supportive

– will cancel plans to attend your shows

– kisses your forehead before you walk and calls you “superstar”

– saves all your press clippings in a little folder like the sentimental cutie he is

– sometimes just watches you get ready like it’s a religious experience

– if a photographer gets too handsy? he steps in real fast

– “she’s got enough people staring. back off.”

—

🖤 Gabriel Bortoleto

– nervous the first time he comes to a show but now? LOVES it

– claps louder than anyone

– “THAT’S MY GIRL. LOOK AT HER.”

– tries to act cool about your lingerie campaigns but blushes like mad

– kisses the inside of your wrist like a gentleman always

– insists on taking pics of you himself because “no one captures you like I do”

—

💙 Franco Colapinto

– tells everyone you’re his lucky charm

– walks around paddocks with your photo as his lockscreen like it’s no big deal

– fumbles every time you show up in something sexy

– “I mean. yeah. okay. wow. hi.”

– literally speechless after your shows

– “how are you real?”

– loves when you wear his shirts backstage

– and you love watching his jaw drop every time

©p1girlfriend | requested | requests open!

[cinnamonlouu]

In his quiet

Modern!Smoke (Elijah) x reader

Synopsis:Marie has been dating Elijah but over time she realizes he may be quiet but a little crazy.

Elijah didn’t talk much.

He didn’t have to.

He walked into rooms and people stepped aside—clean-cut, sharply dressed, quiet like a shadow. No unnecessary words, no performance. Just that gaze, cool and unreadable, like he was calculating something you didn’t know you were offering.

When Marie first started dating him, she thought he was cold. Until she learned better.

Elijah wasn’t cold. He was still.

Still like a warning. Still like someone who didn’t react to things because he didn’t have to because he already knew how it would play out.

And for a while, that made her feel safe.

⸻

They’d been together for over a year. Long enough for Marie to have a closet in his condo. Long enough for her to learn what kind of liquor he liked and how he hated being touched when he was thinking. He ran three businesses, partially owned with his twin brother.

⸻

Marie didn’t call it love at first sight. Elijah didn’t offer warmth the way other men had. He wasn’t playful or charming or performative, she filled that box for him. He remembered small things. He handled her with slow, deliberate care that made her feel chosen.

When she got promoted, he didn’t just send flowers,he took her to a three-Michelin-star restaurant in New York and flew them back the same night.

No words, just a text saying : “Be ready at seven.”

And when the waiter made a flirtatious comment like Elijah wasn’t sitting there, he said nothing. But he made sure at the end of dinner the waiter didn’t make that mistake again by almost breaking his jaw before going back to his lady who had know clue.

⸻

The first time she saw it, it made her stomach tighten. They were at a gallery opening in Midtown.

Marie loved art. Elijah tolerated it for her. He stood at her side, tall and silent while she floated between installations. She liked that he let her be social, let her be herself.

“I love you in blue baby, you know you getting some tonight” she said teasingly, he just wrapped his arm around her waist pulling her close and kissed her.

That night, she ran into an old classmate. Darren.

They hugged. Nothing more.

“Marie, You haven’t aged at all,” Darren said, looking her up and down. “You always had that light on you.”

She laughed, lightly. “You still corny.”

He leaned in. “Some things don’t change.”

Elijah didn’t interrupt. Didn’t speak.

Just watched.

Marie introduced him briefly, and Darren gave one of those half-nods men give other men when they’re sizing each other up.

“Nice to meet you,” he said, offering a hand.

Elijah shook it. No expression.

Later, on the ride home, Marie turned toward him.

“You okay?”

Elijah stared ahead at the traffic. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

She hesitated. “You were quiet. Even for you.”

“I dont like him.”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

He glanced at her, slow and unreadable. “Good.”

⸻

Nothing was ever direct with him. He didn’t get loud. Didn’t accuse.

But that night, when they got home, he didn’t touch her. He didn’t sleep beside her. He sat at the edge of the bed for a long time, elbows on his knees, hands clasped.

And finally said “I don’t like feeling invisible,” he said. “Not when it comes to you.”

Her heart thudded. “I wasn’t trying to make you feel that way.”

“I know,” he said, standing. “But some things don’t need to be tried. They just are.”

⸻

She told herself it was normal for a man like him to feel that way. Elijah was protective, not possessive. Stoic, not unstable.

Because under all that silence, all that control, was someone who took care of her better than anyone ever had. Who never never had to tell her “wait til Thursday when I get paid”,who made her cum under 5 minutes without fucking her.

But when he pulled her into his lap while they were watching a movie, he whispered something that sent chills up her spine.

“I’d forgive you for anything, you know that?”

Marie tilted her head. “What?���

He kissed her collarbone. “Anything. Lie to me. Cheat. I’d still keep you. I’d just make sure you never wanted to do it again.”

She didn’t respond. She wasn’t sure how. But she had to say something.

“Do you ever think maybe you get too serious about me?”

Elijah looked up from the tv.

“What that mean?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Sometimes it feels like you love me so much it scares me.”

“Scares you how?”

“Like… if I ever left, you wouldn’t let me.”

He stared at her for a long time. Then smiled. Touched her cheek.

“You say that like leaving’s an option.”

Marie’s breath caught.

And Elijah? He kissed her forehead.

Ok I tried something a little new for me let me know if you like it, kisses 😚

[w2mini]

“Inarizaki with a manager who…” randoms !!

warnings: reader is reserved, fem reader, swearing, platonic or romantic idgaf

IDK bout’ you guys, but every time I think about Inarizaki having a manager, I think about someone who:

Is stereotyped as your typical “quiet” and “reserved” demeanor girlie when in actuality—she just finds herself in a difficult position to open up to the boys. 😓

- I mean, who wouldn’t have a hard time, they’re like top two in the nation and HIGHKEY intimidating to be with, I have respect 4u girl. 🫡 but a job is a job. Kita recruited you since he had to balance his club and academics at one point (also following the coach’s suggestion).

Also should I just mention that you are such a beauty??? Like, maybe if you weren’t so pretty and mysterious then they wouldn’t be bothering you so much just to talk with you!! 😾

- Suna tries to small talk with you sometimes, keyword: tries (his way of trying is giving you the most unnoticeable hints that he wants to talk with you).

- Whenever you begin to feel tired during a long day in practice, Osamu won’t just let it slip past him and hands you some of his mint candy that he has to help you stay awake as he suggests. Yall chill like that🤞

- You and Kita are the ones who are always together, since you guys discuss about the team’s schedule and strategies alongside coach. But that’s just about it.

- Aran and Omimi tends to help you with your duties, especially if it requires lifting heavy weight or a lot of items to carry. We love gentlemen. 🫡

- Riseki is TOO shy to chat with you, but he’s trying his best I swear. 🥲 Your glamorous self just makes him feel like standing beside you feel like a huge offense.

- The closest (🤏) I would consider to be close to you is proably Akagi and Ginjima, they were the ones who approached you with a warm welcome and introduced you to the team as they showed you the ropes of being a manager.

As for Atsumu? I’m gonna need a whole separate section for him hol’ on.

- How do I even start with him.

- Because for the first time, he doesn’t attract your attention, he’s chasing for it.

- You’re supposed to praise him! fangirl over him! shower him with your undying attention! Not just awkwardly standing there and nodding every now and then! 😾

- Can’t you see how hurt his pride is. 😞 (his fault for expecting too much tbh 😹)

- His last straw was during when he was practicing his sets and you were there to watch. So when you approached him, he was expecting the words: “wow you’re amazing Atsumu!”

- Your response?

- “Miya you should probably extend your arms further more so you have better accuracy on the ball.”

- his jaw dropped to the floor.

- YOU? THE MANAGER? giving him TIPS?

- and what’s worst is that you were right and it genuinely improved his sets slightly better, oh he’s never forgetting about this.

But even after all that, you genuinely just could not bring yourself to be close and open up to them, your reason? a lot.

- The volleyball team of Inarizaki is undeniably well known around the campus and to be their manager is either a curse or a blessing.

- actually scrap that. It’s a fucking curse.

- number one. the top on the damn list. their fangirls.

- the amount of them that question you about the team is just too much for your poor social battery to handle. You were their victim number one to harass about the team. (props to Aran for always saving you during times like these 🙂‍↕️)

- which is also why you have a set of rules to yourself whenever you encounter one of the members in the campus: 1) walk quickly past them in the hallways, 2) only talk to them when they initiate it first, and 3) to never bring up anything about them around the campus.

- number two would be the team itself. why? very self explanatory. 😊

- you do not get an ounce of peace and rest around those guys. Especially Atsumu’s endless cycle of jokes and teasing just to get a reaction out of you.

- and that one time Osamu accidentally served a ball towards you. You were on the tribunes just taking notes. WHO SERVES AT THE TRIBUNES.

- but its okay, he bought you a snack as an apology after that on the convenience store run on the way home. His motherfucker of a twin however just laughed at you like a maniac.

- also the amount of strays you have to pick up during practice is EXHAUSTING. Being their manager made your spine feel like 85 years old.

However, you are genuinely such a hardworking girlie🥹 your actions spoke louder than words, it’s just your way of showing you care for them but sometimes you just don’t feel like it’s enough and you don’t think they notice it either because of how reserved you could be.

- Inarizaki’s volleyball team was independent, they didn’t need a manager.

- which is what they think.

- because ever since you arrived, Kita has felt a heavy weight lift off his shoulders (++ coach too). You’ve genuinely helped them in ways that you didn’t deem possible

- you also took notes of the smallest things or even the quiet observations about the team on your notebook (e.g. “Make sure Atsumu doesn’t forget about his water” or “Osamu gets grumpy if he skips meals” etc.)

- Although they may not be vocal about it or have mentioned about it—the team just has so much respect for you. To be able to manage a team like them is impressive. They don’t think anyone would be able to top your managing skills EVER.

So yeah, it kinda just went on like that… not for long. You strictly kept a classmate relationship between them and just went on being their manager—you do your job, but you kept a distance. That is until Inarizaki gets their win against another strong team.

It wasn’t anything serious or sad with what became the turning point in your relationship with the team, I’d say its very Inarizaki like.

- It happened when Inarizaki won against a really strong team, the game was fierce and stressful to watch, but in the end they were able to snatch the gold.

- Undeniably, the boys are all hyped. “We should celebrate! C’mon let’s go out to eat!” Akagi says as he excitedly suggested.

- the others agreed with the idea, especially a certain twin. On the way, they all discussed their orders and plans for later. In the end they all decided to go for ramen.

- You on the other hand kept silent. You decided it was best for you to go home already and let them have their fun, your social battery was draining anyways.

- which COULD’VE been the plan.

- Until Kita turns around to your direction, then offhandedly says: “You’re coming too right?”

- your brain short circuits.

- it doesn’t help with the fact now that the rest is also waiting for your answer.

- is this what they call peer pressure. 😵‍💫

- but it was in this moment that you realize that—they actually want you to be there. Not just as their manager, but as part of the team.

- So you agreed.

- It was a warm moment when you guys were inside the ramen bar, everyone made an effort to include you, making stupid jokes, teasing you slightly, sharing food, etc.

- And, probably for the first time ever, you were laughing with them.

- And, they all just. froze.

- Because they rarely saw you express emotions around them. Heck, not even a laugh!

- They all glanced at each other and nodded, yep, it was like they had antennas saying their common goal: to see you smile more.

In the end, Inarizaki needs a manager who can handle their shit—and love them anyway.

WOOO kinda short but hope u guys enjoyed, I just kinda wanted to share my thoughts BECAUSE every time I write about Inarizaki having a manager, I always imagine someone who’s just keeps to herself yk, but thas js me🤷‍♀️ Thats why I chose Haerin for today’s layout because the personality matches her sm lowk omg

I kinda wanna make this a series tbh, LIKE that one shiratorizawa series in Ao3 I FORGOT THE NAME but you guys know right….. right.

[demie90s]

Hey girlypop got anotha request 🙂‍↔️ juju x reader where theyre “private but not secret” like everyone has speculation but they have eachothers jerseys numbers stitched into their jerseys very small but still visible. And while they have two games against ucla and at the first game kiki rice starts to flirt with the reader and juju give her dirty looks and you can tell she dont like it and the reader rejects kiki and at the second game kiki is mad and fouls the reader hard and juju is mad and gets all in her face and tells her if she touches her again shes gonna make sure they both get taken out the game and mentions the reader being her girl and the crowd goes crazy and the media goes crazy over them

ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇʟʟ ᴜᴘ

ᴊᴜᴊᴜ ᴡᴀᴛᴋɪɴꜱ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

MASTERLIST | MORE

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: the relationship ain’t secret, just sacred. and juju? she’s tired of being subtle.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: game violence, jealousy, tension, light cursing

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: ~0.4k

People always ask why I don’t post her.

Why I don’t wear her chains, why she don’t comment on my pics, why we don’t feed into it.

But they never look close enough.

Never see the tiny gold “12” stitched in my jersey hem. Or how hers has a little “05” tucked right by the seam.

They never see how she always finds me after the game, win or lose, sweaty or not, and presses her forehead to mine. Quiet. Close. Just us.

Private, not secret. And she likes it that way—until UCLA.

The moment we walk into Galen Center for Game 1, I feel it. Kiki’s eyes. She’s been on weird timing since warmups.

Whole first half she’s following me like she trying to match my steps. Talking slick under her breath. Laughing a little too hard when I miss a three.

And Juju? She’s calm. Arms crossed on the bench, legs spread, chewing gum like she’s plotting. That “I’m watching you” type chill.

It gets bolder second half. I’m walking off the court, wiping sweat with my towel, and Kiki slides up next to me like it’s nothing.

“Number five,” she smirks, “you always look this good after dropping six points, or am I special?”

I raise a brow. “You got jokes now?”

“I got eyes,” she says, licking her lips. “Tell your little secret admirer to stop staring and come introduce herself.”

I glance toward the bench. Juju’s still locked in—except now she’s not even pretending to hide it. Head tilted. Jaw tight. I can feel her mood shift from across the court.

“Keep it cute,” I say, stepping back. “Ain’t nothing secret about that girl watching me. And I’m not interested.”

Kiki’s smile drops.

Fast forward. Game 2. UCLA’s court. It’s louder. Tenser. Everybody noticed last time. Now they waiting.

I’m cooking. Dropped 10 in the first. And that’s when Kiki comes back for round two, only this time—she ain’t flirting.

She fouls me hard mid-drive. Whole body check. I hit the floor rough. Crowd gasps. My elbow’s burning.

Before I even push myself up, I hear it.

“Back the hell up.”

Juju’s already stormed over. Didn’t wait for the ref. Didn’t wait for the timeout.

“You got a problem, Kiki?” she barks, chest-to-chest. “You mad she curved you? Thought being petty was gonna fix it?”

Kiki rolls her eyes. “Play ball, Juju.”

“Nah, you better play smart. Touch her again, I’ll make sure we both get ejected. I don’t care. That’s my girl—you not.”

The gym erupts. Cameras flash. Phones up. Bench players holding each other back. Even the ref’s frozen.

Me? I’m still on the ground like damn. That’s my girl.

Juju doesn’t even wait for a response—she turns, walks straight to me, and offers her hand.

I take it. She pulls me close. Fixes my jersey like I didn’t just get body slammed.

“Tell ‘em again,” I whisper.

She smiles, low and lethal. “I’ll tell the whole damn world.”

And just like that—our private became public. But baby, it was never secret.

The moment we step off the court, reporters start foaming at the mouth.

“Juju, was that a declaration?”

“Are y’all together?”

“Did you say your girl?”

She just smirks, towel over her shoulder, ignoring everybody like she didn’t just almost fight a top recruit on national TV. Meanwhile, I’m limping with an ice pack and a smile like it’s prom night.

In the tunnel, it’s quiet for a second—until Juju grabs my wrist, swings me into a corner by the wall, and plants her hand flat beside my head.

“You good?” she asks low, eyes searching mine.

“Yeah,” I breathe. “You didn’t have to go that hard.”

Her jaw flexes. “She hit you. I told you—play with me all you want. But not with you.”

I laugh, leaning back against the wall. “You was ready to risk it all, huh?”

She hums. “I still might.”

And then she kisses me. Right there in the damn tunnel. Slow. Hands in my curls. Tongue sliding against mine like she ain’t got media waiting and fans screaming her name.

Private? Who?

We break apart when the team starts yelling down the hall. I pull back, still catching my breath.

“We just made every blog in the country.”

“Let ‘em post it,” she shrugs. “They was gon’ find out eventually.”

⸻

𝙏𝙞𝙠𝙏𝙤𝙠 - @thehooptea

🎥: “Y’ALL. JUJU WATKINS JUST TOLD KIKI RICE ‘THAT’S MY GIRL’ ON NATIONAL TV. USC x UCLA JUST TURNED INTO A SOAP OPERA.”

“the way she meant that with her whole chest omg”

“she’s always been obsessed with reader u can tell”

“Kiki fumbled before she even had a chance 😭”

⸻

Back in the locker room, everyone’s wild.

Phones blowing up. Girls replaying clips, mimicking her voice like “Touch her again—THAT’S MY GIRL” over and over.

I’m sitting on the bench, rubbing my knee when Juju walks over with her duffle in one hand and my leg in the other.

“Lemme see.”

“It’s just sore—”

“Lemme see,” she repeats, softer this time.

She props it up in her lap and starts massaging gentle circles into the muscle. Everyone watching. No shame. No hiding.

“You just gon’ act like you didn’t shut down the entire gym?” I tease.

She grins. “Just so they know.”

And in that moment—hand on my thigh, heart still racing, media still going feral—I realize something:

She never needed to post me. I’ve been hers. Loud and clear.

@xxsnowxx213 @draculara-Vonvamp @kcannon-1436-blog @zizi-bee-yapping @kaliblazin @perksofbeingatrex @soapyonaropey

[d-z20]

The Games We Play (NSFW)

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: Caught between the sharp wit of Agatha and the teasing charm of Rio, you find yourself pulled into a game of desire neither woman is willing to lose. What starts as playful flirtation soon turns into a heated rivalry, each vying for your attention in ways that leave you breathless.

- OR -

Why choose between them when you can have them both fucking you? At the same time?!?!

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, Top Agatha, Top Rio, Agatha is possessive, Rio wants to annoy her, fingering, strap-ons (Rio & R recv), double penetration

Words: 3.8k

A/N: Agatha All Along Week Day 2: Non-Magic AU. Got a request for more dp and ended up here, enjoy my darlings 🙃

AO3 | Master List

The city is soaked in endless rain, a moody fog hanging low over the streets as late fall chills the air. Nestled in a corner of the neighbourhood, your used bookshop café glows warmly against the gloom, a small haven for anyone who appreciates the scent of old pages and overpriced espresso. It’s there, in this cosy retreat, that two very different forces of nature pull you into their orbit.

The bell above the door chimes every evening at 7 PM sharp, signalling the arrival of Agatha Harkness, a sharp-tongued philosophy professor from the nearby college. She always orders the same thing: a dark roast, black, no sugar, because “sugar is for optimists,” as she likes to quip with a sardonic smirk.

Everything about Agatha is deliberate, from the way she speaks to the way she holds herself. She’s always clad in sleek, dark coats, her presence commanding despite her quiet demeanor. Her dark brown hair frames a face that often looks amused or unimpressed, depending on the conversation. Her utterly sunny disposition has earned her a reputation, but you’ve grown fond of the way her sharp blue eyes soften when she’s particularly pleased by your banter, even if she’d never admit it outright. Your conversations often stretch into closing hours, always layered with her dry humour but carrying an unspoken warmth she likely doesn’t give to just anyone.

Then Rio Vidal walks into your life—Agatha’s supposed lawyer “friend” and a stark contrast to the reserved professor. Rio is vibrant and magnetic, her smile practically a weapon as she leans against the café counter in her tailored grey blazer, the pop of crimson lipstick drawing your attention more than you’d care to admit. She flirts easily, her voice smooth and teasing as she pretends to be scandalised that Agatha’s “hiding you here all to herself.” Rio makes you laugh, makes you flustered, and from the second she enters, it’s clear the tension between her and Agatha is palpable. Her smile is a little too knowing, her gaze lingering a little too long. She introduces herself with a teasing lilt to her voice, her eyes flicking between you and Agatha as though she’s already noticed something brewing.

It doesn’t take long before the sparks start to fly—and neither of them bother to hide it. Agatha’s sharp words cut through the air whenever Rio flirts too brazenly, but Rio just thrives on it, firing back with sultry remarks that make your cheeks burn. It’s a game neither of them will admit to playing—a battle for your attention that leaves you flustered and dizzy every time you’re around them.

You get Agatha’s number first, scribbled onto the back of a receipt after she offhandedly mentions sending you a book recommendation. “For when you have time to expand your horizons,” she says, smirking as she slides the paper toward you. A week later, Rio casually hands you her card with a wink. “Just in case you need representation,” she purrs, her tone low enough to make your breath hitch.

Where Agatha’s bluntness cuts, Rio’s flirtation smolders. And you? You’re stuck in the middle.

—

The first real crack in the tension comes on a particularly rainy evening. Agatha is nowhere to be seen, and Rio arrives alone. She catches you during your break, claiming a seat near the back where the two of you can speak in relative privacy. Her attention is sharp yet playful as she leans in closer than necessary while accepting her coffee. Her fingers brush against yours, lingering just long enough to make you wonder if it’s intentional.

“You’re wasting time on Agatha, you know,” Rio murmurs, voice smooth and dripping with amusement. “She doesn’t know how to have fun. Me, on the other hand…” She trails off, letting the implication linger like the heat in her gaze.

You can’t help but blush, torn between intrigue and loyalty to the professor, who’s been a quiet constant. Before you can think of a reply, the bell above the door jingles. Agatha arrives, her expression turning stormy when she sees Rio still there, laughing with you.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be, Rio?” Agatha says, her voice cool, clipped.

“Not tonight.” Rio grins, practically daring her to lose her temper. The two women exchange barbed words like practiced fencers while you try unsuccessfully to calm them down. It ends with Agatha leaving abruptly, her coat snapping behind her as she slams the door behind her. The echo of the bell leaves you feeling confused and guilty.

—

That night, your phone buzzes with a message from Rio, her words sweet but edged with her usual brand of mischief. “You okay, sweetheart? You deserve someone who doesn’t run at the first sign of competition.” Before you can respond, a sharp knock at your door startles you.

It’s Agatha.

She stands on your doorstep, soaked to the bone, rain dripping from her dark hair and coat, but her usual sharp edges are dulled. Agatha looks at you with something softer—guilt and regret etched into her features. “I overreacted,” she admits gruffly, as though the words hurt to say. You step aside, letting her in.

You let her in, guiding her to the couch as you make tea. She’s quieter now, vulnerable in a way you’ve never seen. She stares into her mug, her voice quieter than you’ve ever heard it. “I don’t share well,” she says, her gaze fixed on her hands. “The idea of Rio pulling you away..." She trails off, shaking her head, but you can feel the weight of what she isn’t saying. Agatha, for all her bravado, is afraid of losing you.

For the first time, her walls crumble. She admits how much she enjoys your presence—that you’re a rare bright spot in her otherwise cynical world. The night stretches on in quiet comfort, and by the time Agatha leaves, you’re left with a strange warmth in your chest and even more confusion about what you feel for both women.

—

The next evening, Rio shows up unannounced at your apartment, somehow sensing that Agatha has gotten ahead. She leans in your doorway, all confidence and charm, coaxing you with teasing remarks until you let her in.

“You worry too much about her,” Rio drawls, settling onto your couch like she owns the place. Her smile is dangerous; her touches featherlight as she brushes hair from your face. “I could help you unwind, you know.”

Her voice, her smile—it’s all-consuming. The air crackles with tension, her gaze holding yours as she edges even closer. Before you can respond, there’s another knock at the door.

Of course, it’s Agatha.

The energy shifts entirely. Both women are there—again—and the room feels like it might ignite. Finally, you’ve had enough.

“Are you two done?” You snap, startling them both. “This back and forth—it’s exhausting. Either cut the games or go.”

Silence falls, heavy and electric. Agatha is the first to speak, her voice low and smooth. She steps closer, so close you can feel the warmth of her breath against your skin.

“You think we’d fight like this if we didn’t want you?” She murmurs, her blue eyes dark and unreadable.

Rio smirks, circling you like a predator, her tone sinfully sweet. “Maybe sharing isn’t bad, Agatha.”

The shift in energy is dizzying. Agatha’s mouth tilts into a smirk as she backs you toward the couch. Rio’s hand slips to your waist, her touch featherlight. Between Agatha’s steady dominance and Rio’s teasing charm, you’re completely unravelling under their combined attention.

The air in your apartment feels thick, a storm of tension swirling around you as Agatha’s dark blue eyes lock with Rio’s knowing smirk. You barely register your own breath quickening as Agatha steps forward, fingers curling possessively around your wrist.

“Enough games,” she murmurs lowly, her voice gravelly with restrained heat. Without warning, she tugs you firmly toward her, the movement decisive as you stumble against her chest. Her free hand tilts your chin up, her gaze scorching as she leans in, her breath ghosting over your lips—close, but not close enough.

“You’re coming with me,” Agatha whispers, a command dressed as a promise.

Before you can surrender, Rio is there, her hand snaking around your waist from behind, her grip firm as she pulls you back, your body colliding with hers. Her scent—something sharp and sweet—fills your senses as her lips graze the shell of your ear.

“Agatha’s always in such a rush,” Rio purrs, her voice playful, but her hands are far from idle. One settles at your hip, her thumb tracing lazy circles just above the waistband of your pants, while the other slides up your side, light and teasing as it makes your skin prickle. “Why don’t we slow down a little? I’m not done enjoying you yet.”

Agatha huffs—a warning—and moves to claim you again, this time grabbing you by the face with both hands, pulling you flush against her body. Her kiss is sudden and searing, stealing the breath from your lungs. Her lips demand everything, moulding perfectly to yours, and her hands grip your face like she’s daring Rio to interfere again.

And of course, Rio does.

“You’re so dramatic, ” Rio mutters, yanking you free with little effort. Her lips are on you the moment you’re in her arms, pressing slow, teasing kisses along your neck—each one softer and sweeter than the last, a stark contrast to Agatha’s possessive fire. Her fingers trail along the hem of your shirt, sneaking underneath to brush against bare skin, her touch featherlight.

“Tell me you don’t like this better,” Rio murmurs against your skin, her smile evident even though you can’t see it.

You don’t have time to respond—Agatha is already there, tugging Rio’s hand off you with a forceful glare. “Enough of this,” she snaps, her tone clipped but not cold. Her hands find your hips, guiding you toward your room

Rio only laughs darkly and hooks her arm around your waist once more, pulling you right back. “Not so fast, professor. I don’t remember letting you win.”

Their hands are on you—Rio’s touch teasing and playful, Agatha’s firm and commanding—as they drag you down the hall together. Your back collides with a wall, and Agatha is on you first, her hand braced above your head, her lips brushing over your jaw in slow, deliberate movements.

“You’re mine,” she murmurs against your skin, her other hand sliding up your side, fingers pressing into your ribs just enough to leave you dizzy.

“Greedy,” Rio drawls behind her, stepping in close. Agatha doesn’t get a chance to respond before Rio hooks two fingers into your belt loop, yanking you forward and breaking Agatha’s hold. Rio grins wickedly as she pulls you toward the bed—a teasing touch meant to frustrate more than satisfy.

“Don’t listen to her,” Rio whispers, her fingers grazing the sensitive skin just above your collarbone. “I’m the one who’ll take care of you properly.”

The room spins around you, your body trembling from the push and pull of their hands, their lips, and their possessive declarations. You feel like you might come undone from the weight of it—Agatha’s firm hold steadying you just as Rio’s teasing touch sends heat racing through you.

"Please,” you gasp finally, your voice cracking as they pause in their frisky fight, both sets of eyes snapping to yours. You’re panting, your body aching, your pulse roaring in your ears as you look between them—Agatha’s gaze dark and unreadable, Rio’s smile sharp with amusement.

“I—” You swallow hard, trembling beneath the weight of their attention. “I want both of you. ” Your voice drops to a desperate whisper, the words spilling out before you can second-guess them. “Please. I need both of you.”

The silence is deafening.

Rio’s smirk grows impossibly wider, her fingers trailing down your arm as she hums, her tone a mix of delight and challenge. “Hear that, Agatha? They’re asking for it.”

Agatha doesn’t smile, but something shifts in her gaze—an intensity that makes your knees weak. She steps closer, her hand finding your chin again as she tilts your face toward hers, her lips brushing against yours as she speaks.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” she murmurs darkly, her voice soft yet possessive.

“I do,” you plead, your words barely audible as your body arches instinctively toward her.

Agatha holds your gaze a beat longer, then—finally—her lips crash against yours, fierce and commanding, shoving you flat against the bed. Rio isn’t idle for long, though. She shoves Agatha off you, and her hands slide up your sides as she presses herself against you, her lips trailing soft, open-mouthed kisses along the side of your neck.

“You’re shaking,” Rio teases, her voice low, her fingers curling at your hips as Agatha’s kisses travel to your jawline. “We haven’t even started yet.”

The next moments are a blur of movement—your body pulled between Agatha’s dominance and Rio’s playful teasing as they undress you, their touches relentless and overwhelming. Agatha’s mouth leaves marks along your skin as she pins you in place, her voice low in your ear as she commands you to take everything she gives. Rio counters by digging her nails into your skin as she coaxes desperate sounds from you—sounds that only seem to ignite Agatha’s jealousy further.

“Stop hogging them,” Agatha snaps at Rio, though her voice trembles with her own restraint.

Rio only laughs, her hand sliding lower as she presses a kiss to your inner thigh. “I’ll stop when you stop being so damn territorial.”

Between them, you’re unravelling—your body trembling, your breath quickening, every nerve ending lit on fire from their combined attention. Agatha’s possessiveness grounds you even as Rio’s teasing ignites you, the two forces of nature working in tandem to overwhelm you completely.

Agatha's hands are firm on your hips, her weight pressing you into the bed as she straddles you, her body a constant presence that steadies the rising tension inside you. Her breath is hot against your skin, lips grazing your neck as her fingers trail lower, teasing your most sensitive spots. The mix of control and raw hunger in her touch has you spiralling, your body arching up instinctively.

Above you, Rio's voice is smooth, almost amusing, as you hear her rummaging through her bedside drawer, the sound of wood creaking under her searching hands. “Look, Aggie, they have one in your favourite colour,” she teases, her words lazy but somehow more tantalising with every syllable.

Your mind is too clouded, too consumed by the pleasure of Agatha’s touches to catch the nickname. It drifts past you, a sweet echo that you can’t quite grasp as your body trembles, electric heat coursing through you.

Your breath quickens as you feel the faint rustle of Rio undressing herself, each sound heightening the fire inside you. The air grows heavier with anticipation, your senses overwhelmed by the heat of the room, the pressure of Agatha's hands, and Rio’s presence just out of view. But before you can fully process the tension building between them, the bed shifts sharply.

With a sudden shove, Agatha is pushed off of you, the force catching you off guard. A breathless gasp escapes your lips as Rio takes her place, her hands gripping your hips and pulling you toward the edge of the bed, her body leaning over yours. Without a moment’s hesitation, she snaps her hips against you, thrusting your 6-inch smooth black strap inside, the movement sharp and forceful. The sudden, intense pressure forces a moan from your lips, your back arching involuntarily as surprise and pleasure mix. Her rhythm is unforgiving, each thrust deep and demanding, making it impossible to think of anything but her—her body, her control, the way she claims you in an unrelenting wave.

Behind you, you hear the sound of Agatha undressing, the rustle of fabric replaced by the unmistakable click of a harness. A shiver runs down your spine as Agatha slips into it with practiced ease, her presence looming like a storm cloud, the tension palpable.

She moves silently behind Rio, her steps deliberate, her presence casting a heavy shadow over the both of you. With a calculated push, she presses your 10-inch purple strap into Rio’s dripping cunt from behind. Rio's pace doesn't falter as Agatha slides in and out of her, the pressure between them increasing with every movement. The sound is intoxicating, and the combined force of them has your mind spinning—a dizzying mix of pleasure and anticipation as Agatha’s hands grip tightly onto Rio’s waist, guiding her in a new, deeper rhythm.

Your body is a live wire, every nerve on edge as the relentless pace drives you closer to the brink. The pressure builds unbearably, each thrust and touch pushing you higher, your senses overwhelmed, your mind barely clinging to coherence as you teeter on the edge of climax.

After a while like this, Agatha leans forward, wrapping a slender hand around Rio’s throat, lips grazing her ear as she watches you, her voice a low, possessive growl. “I want to fuck them now,” she says, the words cutting through the air with raw desire. Her eyes never leave you, a silent command in her gaze, and you know exactly what she means. The shift in the energy between the three of you is palpable—a dark, consuming hunger that promises to pull you even further into their control.

Both Rio and Agatha pull out at the same time, leaving you breathless and aching for more. The emptiness leaves a hollow craving in your core. Agatha moves to sit on the bed, her back against the headboard, a dominant yet inviting presence. She watches you with smouldering eyes, her hands resting on her thighs as she waits.

You’re unsteady as you move to straddle her lap, your body trembling from your arousal. A whimper escapes your lips as you lower yourself onto her. The sensation of being filled by her cock again has you gasping, the ache from earlier return at the depth of her touch. Agatha’s hands settle on your hips, guiding you as you start to move, her eyes never leaving yours, filled with desire and control.

Rio moves behind you, her presence a comforting pressure against your back as she gently slips a finger between your thighs. You gasp as she presses inside you, the stretch from both her and Agatha intensifying in the most delicious way. The fullness makes you gasp, your body quivering as you adjust to the sensation.

Once you're steady, Rio adds a second finger, pushing in slowly, and you can't help but moan at the added stretch, the sensation almost too much but in the best way possible. Your breathing is erratic as you adjust to both of them, the mix of pleasure and fullness making your mind spin. Then, as if they both share the same thought, Agatha's hands grip your hips, holding you steady as Rio adjusts herself behind you.

The feeling as you sink back down on both of the straps is overwhelming—each movement sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. You feel every inch of them, every twitch of their bodies, and it’s almost too good to bear. The stretch is so intense, so deep, that your body trembles with every shift, every thrust. You feel stretched to the limit, your entire body taut with the effort of staying grounded. Agatha’s firm grip on your hips holds you steady, guiding you up and down, making you feel every inch of them, while Rio’s fingers come to circle your clit, the combination of their touches creating a perfect rhythm that has you gasping for air.

As Agatha pulls you further down, the fullness hits you again, each inch more delicious than the last. You’re teetering on the edge, your breath coming in ragged gasps, desperate and frantic as your body fights to adjust to the incredible pressure. You feel the tension build, winding tighter and tighter, until with one final, perfect movement, your body snaps. Your orgasm hits you hard and fast, waves of pleasure crashing over you, every inch of you alive with the sensation of being so full, so completely consumed.

“That's it, sweetheart,” Agatha murmurs, her voice low and steady in your ear, as her hands continue to hold you steady, guiding you through the aftershocks of your orgasm. “Let go for us.”

As the waves of pleasure ebb and fade, you collapse against her chest, your body trembling with the lingering aftereffects, your breath shaky as Rio gently pulls out, leaving a trail of your warm wetness behind. She presses a soft kiss to your shoulder, her voice a quiet tease. “You’re incredible,” she whispers, her breath hot against your skin.

Agatha’s arms wrap around your waist, lifting you off her strap, holding you close, and grounding you in the aftermath of it all. Her touch is soft, almost tender now, as she kisses your temple. “You’re perfect,” she murmurs, her voice filled with admiration and something deeper, more possessive.

You let out a soft, contented sigh, your mind still hazy but filled with a deep sense of satisfaction. In this moment, surrounded by them, everything feels right.

Agatha brushes a lock of hair from your face, her voice light but filled with something darker beneath the surface. “You know,” she says with a small smirk, “Rio and I had a feeling you’d be perfect for this... we’ve been planning it for a while now.”

Rio laughs softly, her breath warm against your skin. “Took us long enough to get you here, but I’m glad we finally did.”

You blink in surprise, your mind still foggy from your climax as the realisation sinks in. “You... planned this?” The words come out more as a breath than a question, your chest tightening as a mix of surprise and something else—exhilaration, maybe—washes over you.

Agatha chuckles, a playful gleam in her eyes as she tightens her hold on you. “We couldn’t resist,” she admits softly. “We both knew you were something special.”

Your heart races again, this time for an entirely different reason, and you can’t help but smile, a mix of disbelief and wonder settling over you. "I... had no idea," you murmur, a soft laugh escaping as the depth of their plans finally hits you.

-----

listen if I can write in a way where it was Agatha all along, I'm going to do it, she's such a little schemer

-----

let me know if you folks want to read my Band AU :P

[uravitypng]

soulmate hanta who is completely oblivious to that fact that he is your soulmate. everybody is born with a soulmate mark, a scribble of words that are the first words your soulmate utters to you placed somewhere along your hip. hanta sero who is nonchalant and chill about things that he doesn't realise he's already met his soulmate. they met on the first day of ua and he didn't even notice, and you... well you noticed but how could you tell him.

everyone's going around introducing themselves, he doesn't introduce himself though. your bag was neatly tucked away under your desk, already ready to start class when hanta somehow tripped over it, he caught himself in the last minute

"fuck, that could've gone really bad." he grinned at you and you were too stunned to speak, your body felt warm, like fireworks exploding and the warmth left over from sparklers their bright vivid colours flowing through you, you found your soulmate. you didn't get the chance to reply to him, an authoritative voice started speaking, aizawa sensei, and then class started.

you tried really bad to talk to him but he oozed of confidence and friendless, if the roles were reversed and you tripped over his bag you don't even think you would of been able to say something, you'd probably just rush off in embarrassment. he jokes around with everyone and you fade away in the background, you didn't even mean to, it wasn't your intention, you told yourself that when you started ua and started the hero course you'd put yourself out there more but that changed when the idea of talking to your soulmate was so daunting.

soulmate hanta who lays in his hammock with his arm of his face, groaning because you are just so adorable! and you won't talk to him, you're quiet anyway but around him it's like you don't say anything. he doesn't even know if he's ever heard you talk. he frowns at the idea that you won't talk to him because you don't like him, he wants you to like him, he wants you to talk to him! everything about you leaves him in a tizzy- the way you smile, your laugh, your anime pins stuck to your bag, how you got bakugou to open up to you even before kirishima. he can't explain it but he just wants to be near you.

you want to be near him, you want to ask him about his favourite manga, you want to know more about him but you conclude your soulmate wants nothing to do with you. you've only spoken to him once, a month into meeting each other, and he didn't say anything about your mark. he didn't have any reaction. you were talking to bakugou, arguing over who did better in the practical today out of the two of you and you're too involved in proving that you were better that you don't realise hanta and kaminari have walked up to you both. you've spoken to kaminari on a couple of occasions he's nice but a bit too complimentary to girls for your liking and you haven't said one single word to hanta, overthinking every little thing. "oi, you two which one of us was stronger today in our practical?" bakugou shouts over to them.

you don't remember kaminari's response, you remember hanta's, "i mean you're good bakugou but she's miles ahead of you." your heart soars, you don't think you've ever been so happy in your life. shouting ensues, lots of shouting, bakugou calling hanta blind and various other insults.

over all that you say, "thanks sero, you were great too," the end of your sentence gets quieter and you stutter more. they can barely hear you over all the shouting. hanta doesn't look at you or make any acknowledge of what you just said, like 'oh hey, that's what my soulmate mark says' nothing. he heard you but he didn't want anything to do with you. the rejection hurt but you knew something like this would happen, you never expected him to like you but you would've liked him to say something like 'i'm not interested but i still want to be friends with you.'

the lack of any acknowledge on his behalf made it clear to you and you don't want to disrespect his wishes, if he doesn't want to get to know you then you won't force yourself into his life. what you didn't realise is your soulmate didn't even hear what you said... he didn't reject you at all he just didn't hear.

five minutes beforehand he was almost dragging denki by his sleeve over to you and bakugou because he wants to talk to you. he's had this warm fuzzy feeling from the first moment he's seen you and it's just grown and grown.

soulmate hanta is buzzing now that everyone is moving into dorms because surely that means you'll have to talk to him.

soulmate hanta who inserts himself into your life. that anime pin on your bag? he's asking if you've read the manga. he's making teasing jabs at bakugou with you about how his cooking for everyone gives it away that he loves all of the class, bakugou always tells him to fuck off and you have a fit of giggles. he gives you ideas when he can see you're struggling and hit a road block with your hero costume support items. he'll swing you with him to the roof of tallest towers in the city and talk for hours until the sun comes up about the future and plans for being a pro. he's loud and sociable and brings you out of your shell to speak up when he can see that you want but are too afraid to, he's there to give you a push but also relax with you in the dorms when he can tell that you don't have the energy for everyone. he'll bring snacks and you'll watch films and he'll speak to you gently and soothingly that puts your mind at ease when you get overwhelmed. he'll read you manga while you rest your head on his lap and you'll get overly competitive when it comes to mario kart.

you don't understand why your soulmate had this change of mindset about you, maybe it's because you're all living together but now you have him in your life you're not jeopardising that. the time you share with everyone is amazing, and the time you and hanta share with everyone is amazing but when you're just together alone that amazing turns into perfection. you want to bottle up those moments with a glass and keep them forever.

falling in love with hanta didn't surprise you, you knew it would happen sooner or later. you never spoke to each other about being soulmates or relationships (you thought you knew why) you didn't engage in conversations with the rest of the class about it either. you didn't want to put hanta on the spot like that, 'yeah, i've found my soulmate guys, i spend every day with him but he rejected me. oh look! here he comes now, hi sero!' you were wrong though. it didn't happen like you thought it did.

soulmate hanta who isn't just called 'hanta' in your head but when you speak to him or about him, after eight years of knowing each other you've gotten past the use of family names. the first time he heard you speak it his heart skipped a beat. your heads were pressed together and you were under a blanket asleep. you both drifted off at some point during film night, it was time for you both to start joint patrol so you woke him up, whispering his name. you joined the same agency so that meant you liked doing as much joint patrol with each other as possible.

soulmate hanta who's never been in a relationship before and is a complete virgin. he doesn't care about other girls, not even to look their way for a night, all he cares about is you. the idea of even dating a girl riddles him with guilt over how he wishes it was you. hanta is fully aware that you've never been in a relationship either.

soulmate hanta can't bare to look you in the eyes and hear about the person you love or how you're yearning to find your soulmate. he couldn't bare that pain. the idea that you have someone out there- it kills him. in that sense he's insecure, he knows he should be supportive and ask about your soulmate, it seems that every other person has had at least one conversation about it but he just can't. you've never even had a relationship and he knows he should ask why but then you might ask him the same question and the reason would be- you.

the thought that his words may be written on your hip never cross his mind, he's never been in denial that he loves you but he never thought it was reciprocated.

the thought that he himself has a soulmate never, even for a second, flits through in his mind. he doesn't think he's met them and he doesn't care if he does. they won't be you.

next

[callsigns-haze]

Meet and greet

Summary: Jake proudly introduces his daughter to the Dagger Squad in their unfinished San Diego home, where teasing and affection blend as they embrace her as part of their extended family.

Warning: Mild teasing, lighthearted banter, mentions of unfinished home construction, family bonding moments.

Word count: 1367 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x reader

English is not my first language so I apologies for mistakes

Could be read alone or as a one-shot of the little life universe

It was a warm, golden afternoon when you first stepped into the new house in San Diego. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a rich glow over everything it touched. The house itself was bathed in this soft light, a stark contrast to its cold, unfinished interior. The air outside still held a hint of autumn chill, but inside, the sun filtered through the uncovered windows, filling the empty rooms with a warmth that softened the raw edges of the place. The floor was bare, an expanse of concrete where future hardwood would eventually go. The walls were mostly drywall—some unfinished, others completely absent—revealing exposed beams and the skeletal structure of what would one day be your home. There were no countertops, no cabinetry, and aside from the few boxes scattered about, the place was still more of a construction zone than a liveable space.

But this was the first time you’d seen it. The first time you had walked through the front door with Ellie, who was four months old now, her tiny body resting in the crook of your arm. She stirred, her bright green eyes—Jake’s eyes—blinking sleepily in the dim light as she adjusted to the new surroundings. You cradled her closer, gently smoothing a lock of her fine blonde hair that had slipped out of place. She was curious but quiet, taking in the unfamiliar shapes and shadows around her, her small mouth slightly open in wonder.

“It's... a work in progress,” you said, your voice light but laced with amusement. You glanced over at Jake, raising an eyebrow, and the corner of your lips quirked into a smile.

Jake, standing a few steps behind you, shifted his weight with a sheepish grin. He rubbed the back of his neck in that familiar way he always did when he was trying to downplay something. “Yeah, it still needs some love. And, you know... counters. And walls.”

Your chuckle echoed faintly through the empty space. “More of a construction site than a house, Seresin,” you teased, shaking your head as you walked further into what was supposed to be the living room. The sunlight streamed in through the large windows on the far wall, casting long, golden streaks across the floor.

“I know, I know,” he said, his voice softening as he moved closer, his hand resting at the small of your back. “But I wanted you to see it.” He leaned in, his lips brushing the top of Ellie’s head in a tender kiss, and she gurgled softly in response, her little fingers curling and uncurling against your chest. “This is where we’ll be someday, when it’s all done,” Jake continued, his voice full of quiet promise. “Our home.”

The words hung between you for a moment, and you could feel the weight of them—what they meant. It wasn’t just about the house, but the life you were building together. You leaned into him slightly, your eyes drifting over the exposed beams and unfinished drywall, imagining what it would be like when the house was complete. You could already see the living room filled with furniture, the sound of Ellie’s laughter filling the space as she learned to walk, as she grew up.

But for now, it was just the three of you in this shell of a house, with boxes piled in random corners and dust settling in the sunlight. And yet, there was a certain magic in it, a sense of potential waiting to be realized.

“And I figured it was about time the squad met their favourite little girl,” Jake added, his grin widening as he pulled back slightly to meet your gaze. There was a twinkle in his eye, a mischievous light that reminded you of the playful, cocky man you had fallen for, but now softened by the weight of fatherhood.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound escaping before you could stop it. “Oh God, I can only imagine the teasing that's coming,” you said, shaking your head.

As if on cue, the unmistakable sound of tires crunching on the gravel driveway reached your ears. You turned toward the front of the house just as several cars pulled up in quick succession. A few moments later, the door creaked open, and in they came—like a whirlwind. Rooster was the first through the door, his aviators still perched on his nose, even though the sun was beginning to set. He was followed by Phoenix, her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, with Payback and Fanboy right behind her. Coyote lingered at the back, his easy grin already in place, knowing exactly what was about to unfold.

Phoenix was the first to speak, her eyes immediately landing on Ellie, who was still nestled against your chest, her head resting on your shoulder. “Well, well, if it isn’t the famous Ellie Seresin!” she said, her voice laced with mock surprise as she crossed the room in a few quick strides. She reached Jake first, giving him a playful shove. “I still can’t believe Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin has a daughter. The world is officially upside down.”

Ellie blinked up at Phoenix, her big green eyes wide with curiosity, her little mouth forming a small ‘o’ as she tried to make sense of this new face. She kicked her legs slightly, the fabric of her tiny onesie bunching up around her chubby thighs.

“She’s got his eyes,” Rooster chimed in, coming up behind Phoenix, a grin already spreading across his face. “But thank God she doesn’t have his attitude.”

Jake groaned, rolling his eyes but clearly expecting the jab. “Can’t you just be nice for once?”

“Nope,” Phoenix said with a smirk, leaning down to coo at Ellie. “This is payback for every time you’ve called me slow or trash-talked me in the air.”

Fanboy and Payback joined in, their laughter filling the empty space. “Seriously, Jake,” Payback said, chuckling as Ellie let out a small yawn, “I thought you’d be a terrible influence on a kid. But look at her—she’s perfect.”

Jake, his face flushed with a mix of pride and exasperation, shook his head. “I must be doing something right, then.”

“Or maybe YN’s the one keeping you in line,” Coyote piped up from the back, his grin wide and knowing. He had always been the one to see through Jake’s bravado, the only one who truly understood how much fatherhood had softened him, how much Ellie had changed him.

As the squad continued their good-natured ribbing, each of them took turns getting closer to Ellie, their teasing gradually shifting into softer, more affectionate tones. Rooster ran a gentle finger along the back of her tiny hand, his expression uncharacteristically tender. Phoenix kept making little cooing noises that made Ellie blink and smile, her toothless grin brightening the entire room.

“I gotta say,” Phoenix said eventually, straightening up and crossing her arms as she looked between you and Jake, “I never thought I’d see the day when Jake Seresin would be this soft. But here we are.”

Jake, always one to play it cool, shrugged, though the smirk on his face was undeniable. “What can I say? She’s got me wrapped around her finger.”

“She sure does,” Rooster agreed, grinning. “But don’t think this means we’re going easy on you in the air.”

The banter carried on, with the squad teasing Jake mercilessly, but beneath it all, there was a palpable sense of admiration, even love. They might have been a bunch of rowdy aviators, but in this moment, they were family. And Ellie, despite being so small, was already the centre of it all.

Eventually, Ellie dozed off in your arms, her tiny fist clutching at the fabric of your shirt as her breathing deepened. The noise of the room faded into the background, and you leaned against one of the unfinished walls, watching as Jake stood in the middle of the squad, a proud father, surrounded by the people who had been through so much with him.

In that moment, the house—still raw, still unfinished—felt like home. Not because of the walls or the counters or the floors, but because of the people inside it.

If you'd like to be tagged let me know!

[bad268]

I'm really excited about the autistic reader fic as a fellow autistic who really wishes there was a bit more inclusivity in the fanfic space. Could I request an autistic driver reader with Pato O'Ward where the reader comes off as cold to people who don't know her and Pato is convinced she hates him until Marcus or Callum accidentally tells him she has a crush on him

Stone Cold Finally Thawed (Pato O'Ward X Autistic Driver! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/Indycar

Requested: Clearly (based on my own autism so be nice!)

Warnings: Autistic reader, sexual innuendos, no use of Y/n (used Stone Cold)

POV: Second Person (You/your/They/them)

W.C. 1705

Summary: Who knew Callum and Marcus were great wingment? And who knew Pato had a lot of sexual innuendos?

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

You didn’t get the name “Stone Cold” for nothing. You just lived for racing, and that was it. You couldn’t care less about the other things with racing, but that’s just how you were. It’s always been this way. You came to race, and race you did. 

To anyone else, you were standoffish. You didn’t talk to anyone unless spoken to, and you were known to disappear after every session. You were only ever seen with your teammates, and even that was pretty slim. You just didn’t mesh well with them.

When you found out that you were being dropped from JR Motorsports, you decided to try your hand at open-wheel racing. IndyCar was something you had always thought about going into but never had the chance until you were dropped. Prema gave you an offer you simply couldn’t refuse.

Callum was another quiet driver, so it was easy to get along with him. He also made the promo days a lot easier to go through with, and by the start of the season, you would consider him one of your friends. Callum even took it upon himself to introduce you to a couple of other drivers, namely Marcus and Pato.

Marcus was always around because he was Callum’s best friend, so it wasn’t long until you started looking forward to hanging out with them.

Pato was another story.

You just wanted to sit in his presence, but from the brief meeting you had with him, he’s like an energetic puppy! Callum told you that’s just how Pato is. As much as you wanted to get to know him, you got overwhelmed by the short dose you had of him.

It was almost immediately that Pato noticed your cold deminer. Part of him thought you hated him, so he did the only reasonable thing he could: ignore you. 

At first, you thought Callum and Marcus had talked to Pato about toning it down around you, but then he just wouldn’t acknowledge you. At least Callum or Marcus would nod your way or gesture for you to join their conversations if you wanted to, but Pato just pretended that you didn’t exist. That’s when it became a problem.

“Did you guys tell Pato to ignore me?” You asked, approaching the two of them sitting in a random trailer. 

“Has Stone Cold finally thawed?” Callum joked as he leaned back in his chair to watch you round the couch and sit next to Marcus.

“That’s not funny,” You quipped back, glaring at Callum. “He’s completely ignoring me. I thought you guys told him to chill, no pun intended, out.”

“No, we didn’t tell him anything,” Marcus admitted, propping his foot up on his knee to face you and Callum. “At least I didn’t.”

“No way,” Callum gasped suddenly, “You have a crush! There’s no other reason you would be asking about him. I know you enough to know you wouldn’t care this much if someone wasn’t talking to you. You’d probably be happy if no one spoke to you at all.”

“You’re right about the not talking to me part,” You agreed with a small smirk before it dropped just as fast as it appeared, “But the crush part, I don’t know, man.”

“If you have a crush or if you believe him calling it out?” Marcus clarified.

“Both. I don’t know him enough to know if it’s a crush,” You cringed for a second, “That makes me sound like a child having a fucking crush.”

“Well, then why do you care if he’s ignoring you?” Callum asked, amused, and he was truly finding way too much joy in this situation.

“Because…” You trailed off as you thought about it. “I just wanna be around him, but it’s like he’s repulsed by me. I don’t know what else to say about it.”

You didn’t want to talk anymore. Not about this, not about Pato, not about anything. You got up from the couch and retreated back to the Prema hospitality and into your driver’s room.

Callum and Marcus knew they would have to pull some strings to get Pato to go to you first. They knew you, and they knew you would avoid, bury, and move on. That’s always how you were with your feelings. It also didn’t take a genius to notice this.

“Hey! Pato! My favorite short-term teammate,” Callum exclaimed as soon as he spotted Pato at the track and ran to catch up with him. “How are you, my friend?”

“Why are you kissing my ass?” 

“Am I not allowed to catch up with my closest friend on the grid?” Callum sweet-talked as he put a hand on Pato’s shoulder. From behind Callum, he heard Marcus mutter, “Ouch,” under his breath, but Callum just jabbed his elbow back into Marcus.

“You’re lying!” Pato shouted with a smile, “You’re trying to get something because everyone knows that you and Marcus are best friends.”

“Ok, you have a point,” Marcus said, coming to stand on Pato’s other side, “But we have an offer for you.”

“I’m not gonna be your third.”

“That’s not what we’re asking.”

“It’s about Stone Cold,” Callum immediately cleared up, sending Pato a side-eye.

“Ok, I’m listening,” Pato dragged as the three drivers moved into a less busy part of the paddock.

When you finished the race, you were pleased with your placing. It was your first top-five of the season, and with it being so early in the season, you only expected to get more comfortable as the season went on. 

You finished up post-race media, and you were ready to slip out of the paddock unnoticed. It was a talent you knew well, and somehow, the media could never figure out how you did it. 

You made it to the Prema trailer, ready to change out of your team kit into something more discrete and comfortable, when you saw a figure leaning against the door. It didn’t take you long to recognize the bright orange as an Arrow McLaren kit, and it took only a second longer to identify the figure as Pato. 

“Congrats on your win,” You commended as you passed him. He promptly followed behind you as you went through the trailer, stopping just outside of your driver’s room. “Can I help you?”

“Do you have plans later? The guys were planning to go bar hopping, but I want to head back to the hotel,” Pato explained quickly before looking at the plain look on your face. “You’re busy?”

“I never said that,” You replied dryly. Pato’s eye widened, but he didn’t know where to go with this, so you took it to continue. “I thought about getting takeaway and watching the Formula 1 replay.”

“Oh, that sounds fun!” Pato perked up, “What kind of takeaway are you craving?”

“I don’t know,” You shrugged as your face scrunched up, “Chinese?”

“I like Chinese,” Pato agreed before deciding this was his time to shoot his shot, “Do you want to catch a ride with us and they can drop us off at the hotel?”

“I actually have a car rented,” You answered, “If you want to meet me at the hotel, I can pick up the food, and we can watch the race in my hotel room.”

“Oh my god,” You heard through the wall before someone banged against the wall. “He’s asking you out!”

Your eyes moved to meet Pato’s nervous gaze as he offered you a small smile.

“Really?” You questioned, and Pato reacted with a quick nod. “In that case, you can ride with me.”

Later that night as you watched the podium celebration for the Formula 1 race, you sat in a comfortable silence with Pato until he sighed, drawing your attention away from the screen.

“I just have a couple questions,” Pato started.

“They crossed the line first, second and third. Does that answer your question?” You responded, turning your body to face him on the bed.

“What…” Pato trailed off before chuckling to himself for a second. “Thank you for that information.”

“Anytime,” You smiled, “Proceed with your actual questions.”

“One, if Callum and Marcus didn’t tell you yet, I really like you,” Pato started, “Can we do this again?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure there’s another race next week. Maybe not Chinese again, but I liked this. It was fun.”

“Not this specifically,” Pato broke it down even more. “You and me doing something. Maybe dinner or something.”

“Oh,” Your face dropped for a second before coming back with a huge smile, “I’d like that too.”

“Cool.”

“Cool. What was your other question?”

“Why do you have your own car?” Pato couldn’t help himself. “As far as I know, each team only funds one car for the drivers, and they all have to share it.”

“I fund my own rental,” You replied as if it were common sense. “I like having escape plans, and if I wanna leave, I can leave.”

“That’s gonna come in handy,” Pato trailed off with a smirk.

“Why would you say that?”

“No reason.”

A few races later, you and Pato walked hand-in-hand into the paddock for the Indy 500. Boy, was that unexpected. Not only did the media never see you walk into the track, but this time you were walking in with someone. Someone who was very prominent for grand entrances. 

“Looks like Stone Cold has finally thawed,” Callum teased as he and Marcus met up with the two of you just before your first interviews of the day. “How do you feel?’

“Like there are too many people looking at me,” You admitted quietly, squeezing Pato’s tighter as you looked around at all of the cameras pointed at the four of you. The glasses on your nose did nothing to block who you were looking at. “I just wanna get in the car.”

“Hate to break it to you, but we don’t get in the car today,” Marcus said with a mock pout, bumping into Pato’s side. “Maybe Pato can hide you somewhere.”

“They do have their own car for a reason.”

“Quick getaways, not what you are thinking,” You immediately clarified, pointing at Callum and Marcus. “I learned that this is a sexual innuendo.”

~~~~~

© BAD268 2025. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[traveler-at-heart]

Stuck Together - Part 7

Summary: After Westview, Wanda and her children go into hiding. She's not happy with the person in charge of protecting them.

Wanda Maximoff x F! Super Soldier R

A/N: Final part is here. Thank you to everyone reading :)

Quiet.

Something you love. Or used to, anyway.

It’s stupid, how fast you got used to the little things. The sounds in the kitchen as Wanda made coffee. The hurried steps of fhe boys, eager to join Riley in a morning walk.

Now you’re back to being alone, feeding the animals, looking out the window while the radio plays some generic music.

Everything’s so bland and boring and you hate it.

Then, one morning, you hear a car parking in the driveway.

“Sestra!” a voice with a heavy accent calls, and your shoulders drop. You realise a moment later that you were holding your breath.

Fanny barks, eager to say hello to Riley. You open the door, your dog sprinting out to greet Yelena and her pup.

There’s a brunette trailing right behind the Russian, looking around nervously.

“What are you doing here?”

“Well, you left the hospital against medical advice. What was I supposed to do?”

“Hu-huh” you cross your arms, looking at the stranger. She hesitates, taking a step forward to introduce herself.

“Kate Bishop”

“Clint’s minion” you recognise the name. He told you all about their little stint in New York. You turn to Yelena, raising your arms. “I’m fine, all healed. You can chill”

“Well, we came all the way here, could we at least stay the night?”

In that moment, Riley sits at your feet, barking excitedly. You glare at the blonde.

“Only because Riley agreed”

“Good girl” she says, scratching behind her ears. With a roll of your eyes, you turn back home, Yelena and Kate close behind you.

As you prepare coffee and the two girls make sandwiches, you think of all the things Natasha told you about Yelena.

She was my little sister.

And you knew, that if anyone could understand your grief was her, out of all the people in the world.

But that didn’t mean you wanted to spend time together. It was a constant push and pull. Talking about Natasha and avoiding the topic altogether were both equally painful.

After a while, you show them the guest room. Yelena doesn’t flinch at the sight of one bed, and even when you mention the other rooms available (or even the couch), they both walk in.

As Yelena walks by you, you arch an eyebrow, and she gives you a stern look.

“Shut it”

Figuring it’s better to give them some privacy to settle, you take a stroll around the farm, Lou happily following along while Fanny and Riley chase each other.

Your mind is a mess, and you don’t know which way to turn to hurt less. As usual, there’s a weight in your chest when you think about Natasha, and how much you miss her. But now, Wanda’s abscence is also there, the wound very much fresh and open, as only a few days ago she was in your arms, promising to stay.

For the first time in years, you miss going on missions.

“Had a good walk?” Yelena says when you’re back. You just shrug your shoulders, sighing as you go up the steps. “Well, ok. Have a seat”

“What is Bishop doing?” you ignore her invitation, taking a look through the window.

“Trying to cook dinner”

“Is she going to burn my house down?”

“I’d give it a 40-60 chance of it happening” the blonde smiles, clearly not worried about it. Then, she pats the space next to her on the porch swing. “Now come. Sit”

With a sigh, you walk up to her and lean against the bannister, crossing your arms as you look at her. Yelena rolls her eyes at your defensive stan.

“So, what’s the deal between you and this Wanda?”

“Nothing”

“Not what I heard” she shakes her head, amused. You glare.

“From who?”

“Barton”

“Oh, come on. You were trying to kill the guy a few weeks ago and now you gossip? He braids your hair while he’s at it?” you mock.

“Ok, fine. Not directly from him. He called Kate and she called me”

“She called you or you were together?” you tease her.

“Stop being an ass. Tell me what’s going on”

You look away for a moment, thinking that you could tell her it’s none of her business. Ask her to leave you alone, to try and get drunk, forget about everything that’s weighing you down.

But you can’t. Because, whether you like it or not, you’re bound by grief, and loss. And love. Love for Natasha.

If she was struggling with something, you’d be chasing her around until you made sure she was ok.

“Nothing. I thought… Hill asked me for help to protect her. And for those couple of weeks, I developed these feelings. Maybe I was just lonely”

“Feelings? Like love?”

“I guess. But she left, and it’s probably for the best. She’s right; someone always gets hurt”

“You’re already hurt” she replies, her voice gentle.

“I’m a big girl, I’ll get over it”

“But do you have to? Why not go after her? Give yourself the chance to be happy. Just once”

“I don’t think… I didn’t do anything to stop her, Yelena. I don’t think I can be happy, after failing Natasha” you finally say, voice shaking.

“You didn’t fail her. She made a choice. After everything she went through, all the possibilities that were taken from her… do you really think the last thing she ever did was against her will?”

You can’t answer that.

What’s worse? To think you could have stopped her? Or that her sacrifice was always inevitable?

Yelena stands up, her hand on your shoulder.

“Just… remember what you told me. A life worth living. That’s the best way to honor her memory”

“Yeah” you sigh, looking up. You hate crying.

Though, a second later you smell the smoke and hear Kate’s scream.

“We should probably go help her”

“And order some pizza” Yelena adds, smiling as you roll your eyes.

—

It’s been a while since you’ve been here.

The gifts and letters scattered around always warm your heart.

There are people who value her, honor her life.

Natasha’s legacy.

As far as your little tribute, it’s all the plants you placed around this hidden corner of land.

You spend some time cutting and cleaning the grass around the gravestone, and then turn your attention to the flowers.

The peonies get pruned, daffodils adding a spring of color. You know the hydrangeas aren’t blooming until early summer, but that’s fine.

Natasha once told you; bare trees or withering flowers didn’t make her sad. It meant she was staying long enough in one place to watch them go through every season. It meant she had a home.

Once you’re done removing the soil, checking the watering system you installed, and fixing the little gifts people left for her, you sit on the floor, watching your hands.

“Sorry for not coming sooner. Hill called me. And you know I answered because she was your friend. Turns out she wanted me to help out Maximoff. She got a bit more annoying than when she was running around the Compound looking like a raccoon with all that eyeliner” you chuckle at the memory of her dark clothes, rings and smoky eyes. She couldn’t look more different now.

“I should have known it was going to be trouble, and I don’t mean just because I almost got killed twice. It’s because… I started to fall for her. She has two kids, by the way. Born from magic or some weird deal I don’t really understand”

I didn’t think I had it in me, to fall in love again. Not only because I lost you, but because I had been so angry at everyone. It felt like I only had space for that emotion. Anger.

But I saw myself in Wanda. In everything she lost, in all the things that were taken from her, without so much as an apology. And I want more for her. I want her to be happy. Maybe with me. Why not?

As usual, I haven’t stopped thinking about you. It’s different this time, though. I still feel sad and lonely, but it’s also a different kind of nostalgia. I can think about you and appreciate everything we shared.

Most importantly, I think I’m finally ok with the fact that you made your choice. I have to trust that you knew what you were doing, Tasha. And that whether I like it or not, it is what you wanted.

You lean your head against her grave, the stone cold against your skin. It makes your heart ache, it makes you wish you could bring her back and feel her warmth against your body.

How could you ever think Wanda’s a monster? If you could, you’d create a new reality, a new universe where Natasha gets to live the life she always deserved.

But you can’t do that. All you can do is go and find your own happinnes.

With a final touch, you speak softly, hoping she can hear you, wherever she is.

“I love you, so damn much. And I always will”

—

Very few times in her life, has Wanda regretted putting on The Dick Van Dyke Show.

And then, she realises what episode they’re watching.

Never name a duck.

The one where Ritchie becomes attached to two ducks, but only one of them survives. Until he’s sick and the vet tells Rob he needs to be in the wild.

The words that come out of Rob’s mouth make Wanda think of you.

“But maybe that was a selfish love”

That’s exactly what she thinks her love for you is. Selfish.

You didn’t ask for any of this, and Wanda’s not about to burden you with everything she carries. She’ll manage alone, like she has done ever since Pietro died.

Except she wasn’t alone. There was Vision, Steve and Natasha. You, in the background, doing your part, fighting for Wanda’s right to have a life outside of this.

Even if she misses you, you deserve to have a life.

And so, she let you go.

“Can we watch something else?” Billy asks, and Wanda can tell the show is making him sad as well.

“Sure, sweetheart”

After watching Zootopia, the kids drag their feet to the room they’re sharing. Fury provided another safe house, while Wanda decides where to go next. Billy and Tommy need stability and of course they won’t get it by changing houses every other day.

“Can I ask you something?” Tommy says, turning to look at Billy, making sure his brother’s asleep. “Is Y/N ok?”

“I sure hope she is, my sweet boy. She knows how to take care of herself” Wanda smiles at him, hoping he doesn’t notice the tears that are almost rolling down her cheeks. “Now you get some sleep, ok? I’ll see you tomorrow”

“Night, Mom” he replies, settling in bed.

As Wanda takes a moment in the hallway, she allows herself to think about you, probably back home. Watching Ancient Aliens, cursing at the TV as you sip on a bottle of beer.

It’s stupid, how much comfort it brings her to think of you doing the most absurd things.

Said comfort doesn’t last long, though. She hears a branch snapping close to the house. It’s a small place and the road ends a few feet away from the entrance. So, whoever approaches has to leave their vehicle and walk to the front door.

Without wasting a second, she goes to the door, hand up in the air to hold the intruder.

“Hey, now wait a second” you say, smiling.

Wanda’s so shocked that she drops her hand, you crashing down immediately after.

“I’m sorry” she rushes to your side, and you sit up. Wanda places her hands in your face,  fingers tracing the cuts and bruises that are still healing.

On pure instinct, you move forward, kissing her. She moans against your lips, allowing you to wrap your strong arms around her waist. But then she remembers.

“Stop”

“No” you shake your head, pulling her closer. “You said you’d stay, Wanda”

“That was before”

“Before…”

“You almost got killed because of me” she sighs, pushing her hair back and standing up. You follow her, reaching for her hand.

“Can’t even tell you how many people have tried to kill me. And I’m still here”

“It wasn’t just him. It was Agatha too. And who knows what else? I’m like a magnet for these things. I don’t want you getting hurt” she says, arms around her own body, as if desperate to find something that can hold her together.

“Wanda… bad things are going to happen. It’s part of life. Wouldn’t you want to face them with someone who… who cares about you?” you whisper, holding her chin between your fingers.

“I’m scared”

“The thing is, we’ve both lost people. And I know, I can’t deny that a part of me will always love Natasha… but I think I have to accept she made a choice. And I should try to live my life. I think Vision would want that for you as well. I mean the real Vision; not that white awful thing” 

“I just don’t want to lose anyone else. I don’t know if I can take it” she says, finally reaching forward. You kiss her temple.

“Well, just come back home and we’ll take it one day at a a time. Together”

“The kids miss you” she says after a beat of silence.

“And I miss them, but I swear if there’s a fourth Cars movie I will burn down Pixar myself”

Wanda laughs for a moment, her breath tickling your skin.

“Promise me you won’t leave me” she says against your neck and you smile, making her look at you.

“Scout’s honor, witchy”

“Don’t…” Wanda’s about to fight you on the nickname, when you meet her lips in a soft kiss.

“Just stop fighting it. You like me too much”

“You wish” she teases, kissing you again.

Looks like you’re stuck with each other.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[the-winter-spider]

Say Don't Go | Part Ten

bucky x reader AU

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Assholes

A/N: same as before tryna pull all these parts outta my yknow what so i can be done with this fic lmaoo sorryyyyyy :(

Masterpost

-----

You weren’t going to go, you told yourself that a hundred times.

The last party had broken something in you, shattered the fragile safety you’d barely managed to piece together since everything fell apart. So when Wanda brought it up, a small off-campus party, just some people from her art classes, low-key, good vibes you shut her down instantly.

“No,” you said flatly, not even looking up from your laptop. “Absolutely not.”

But Wanda never gave up that easily. “Y/N, it’s not on campus. It’s not one of those ragers. It’s just some friends, some drinks, some music. You can leave whenever. I’ll be with you the whole time.”

“You should wear the red top,” Wanda called from across the room, holding it up like a trophy. “You always feel hot in the red one.”

You didn’t answer. You sat on the edge of your bed, one leg curled beneath you, picking at a loose thread in your pajama pants. You hadn’t moved in twenty minutes. Not since Wanda started pulling clothes out of your closet with the kind of enthusiasm only she could muster.

“Y/N,” she said gently, crossing the room and kneeling in front of you. “Please.”

You looked at her, the weight in your chest so familiar now it almost felt normal. “Wanda, I just…I can’t go to another party. The last one… you remember what happened.”

“I know,” she said quickly, nodding. “God, I know. And I would never ask you to go if it was another one of those campus parties. This one’s different. It’s off-campus, smaller. It’s just a few people from my art class. Chill music. Cozy house, no jocks. No chaos.”

You let out a shaky breath.

“I just want you to feel like you again,” Wanda whispered. “Even if it’s only for an hour.”

You hesitated, your gaze dropping. You remembered the last party, the warmth of Bucky’s hand in yours, the way he’d looked at you like you were something precious. Then, the photo,  the laughter, the betrayal. It made your stomach churn.

But you were tired of being afraid. Tired of being defined by that night.

“Okay,” you said, your voice quiet but sure. “But I’m not wearing the red top.”

Wanda grinned. “Fair. But I’m still doing your makeup.”

An hour later, you stood in front of the mirror, your lips glossed with a soft sheen and a calm shade of eyeliner tracing your eyes. You didn’t recognize yourself not because you looked different, but because you felt something you hadn’t in a long time: anticipation.

“Ready?” Wanda asked, tossing you your jacket with a smile.

You paused. “No. But I’m going anyway.”

She slung an arm around your shoulder as you walked out the door together. “That’s my girl.”

---

The house was small, cozy in that offbeat, art-major way. Christmas lights were strung across the ceiling, and the music was mellow, the kind you could nod your head to without having to scream to be heard. For a while, you were okay.

You were even laughing, laughing, for the first time in what felt like forever. Wanda introduced you to a few people, and you nursed your drink like a lifeline, something to hold onto. You stayed near the edge of the room, eyes darting, instinctively cautious, but still… you were there and that mattered.

Wanda excused herself after spotting someone from class. “You okay if I go say hi?” she asked.

You nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

Famous last words.

You were swaying a little to the music when you heard your name. “Y/N, right?”

You turned. Two guys, familiar faces. Hockey team, your stomach dropped.

“You looked better in that photo,” one said with a smirk, stepping in too close. “What’s a girl gotta do to get that lucky with Barnes, huh?”

Your throat closed up.

“Come on, sweetheart,” the other one added. “I won’t tell Steve or Bucky. We’re all teammates here.” 

“Sharing is caring, right?”

You took a step back, trying to find Wanda, an exit..anything.

A blur of movement. A fist flying, the thud of someone hitting the floor.

Bucky.

You didn’t even see him coming.

He shoved the first guy against the wall, rage written across every tense muscle in his body.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he snapped, voice low and dangerous.

The guy groaned, scrambling back. “Dude, chill—”

“Stay the fuck away from her.”

“She’s not even your girl—”

“It doesn’t matter,” Bucky growled. “You don’t treat people like that. Not her, not anyone.”

The second guy sneered. “Says the guy who made her a punchline.”

Bucky’s fist flew again.

You gasped, stepping forward, hand out like you could stop the bleeding in the air between them.

The guys slunk off, muttering curses, and Bucky turned to you. His entire demeanor shifted. All the heat, the fury, it melted into something else. Something hollow and terrified.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly. “Did they touch you?”

You shook your head, still in shock. “No. Just… words.”

He hesitated. “Can I…can I touch you?”

You nodded.

His hand found your arm, gently steering you outside to the side of the house where it was quieter. You stood there for a long moment before speaking. “I’m sorry you had to do that.”

He looked at you like you were crazy. “Don’t apologize to me. Don’t ever apologize to me.”

You stared at him, breath catching in your throat. He looked different at this moment. Not the guy from the picture, not the guy from the locker room but the boy who used to slip you notes, who used to ask if you made it home safe, who used to care.

You step out into the chilly night air, wrapping your arms around yourself. The muffled thump of music and voices from the party fades as the door closes behind you. Your heart is still pounding from the confrontation inside, adrenaline and hurt mixing in your veins. A shiver runs through you, not entirely from the cold. A few feet away, Bucky stands with his hands shoved in his jacket pockets, concern etched on his face. Neither of you speaks at first, breath clouding in the autumn air, both unsure how to begin after everything.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asks softly, breaking the silence. His voice is low and rough, still tight with residual anger at what just happened. In the faint glow of the porch light, you can see the worry in his blue eyes as they search your face.

You release a shaky breath. “I… yeah. I think so.” It’s not a complete lie, physically, you’re unharmed, just shaken. You manage a small, grateful smile. “Thank you, uh for back there, I mean… You didn’t have to do that.”

Bucky’s jaw flexes and he looks down for a moment. “Of course I did,” he murmurs, almost offended at the idea that he wouldn’t. “They were out of line. No one should treat you like that.” His eyes flick back up to yours, earnest and intent. “Are you sure you’re okay? They didn’t… hurt you, did they?”

“I’m okay,” you assure him again, a little more firmly this time. The two teammates who cornered you at the party had been obnoxious jerks, saying disgusting things, one of them grabbing your wrist when you tried to walk away. The memory makes your stomach turn. If Bucky hadn’t stepped in… You push the thought away and straighten your shoulders. “Just a bit shaken up. It was… it was pretty awful, but I’m alright now.” You swallow, your throat dry. “Really.”

Bucky nods, but his expression is still dark, anger simmering under the surface. “I’m sorry. I should have stopped it sooner,” he says, voice low with frustration, mostly at himself. “I didn’t notice what was happening until I heard you yell. By the time I got there—” He cuts himself off, eyes drifting to your arm as if checking again that those guys left no marks.

You follow his gaze and realize you’re rubbing the spot on your wrist where one of them grabbed you. Already the skin is reddening into the shape of unwelcome fingers. Bucky’s face hardens at the sight. Gently, he reaches out as if to touch your hand, then hesitates. Instead, he asks in an anguished whisper, “Did I scare you? Back there, when I… stepped in?”

For a split second during the chaos, you had seen a frightening rage in Bucky, his icy fury as he yanked the guy off you and shoved him hard against a wall. The quick, efficient way he handled both harassers left you and everyone stunned. But were you scared of Bucky? You shake your head. “You didn’t scare me, Bucky,” you say quietly. “I’m okay, really.” Your lips curve in a weak but sincere smile. “I was just… surprised, I guess.”

He exhales, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “Good. I—” Bucky starts to say more, but the creak of the front door opening interrupts him.

“Y/N?” Wanda’s voice calls out, laced with concern, before she spots both of you. Wanda steps out onto the porch, arms crossed over her chest against the cold. Her eyes dart between you and Bucky. Immediately, she comes to your side. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Are you alright?” she asks, her tone gentle with you but noticeably cool as her gaze flicks toward Bucky.

“I’m fine,” you assure your friend, touched by her protectiveness. Wanda places a comforting hand on your back. You can feel the subtle tremor of anger still in her, anger on your behalf. “I just needed some air.”

Wanda nods, then pointedly looks at Bucky. “I heard what happened,” she says, her voice dropping in temperature. “Those idiots… Are they gone?”

Bucky clears his throat. “They won’t bother her again,” he replies. His stance has shifted; he stands a bit straighter, meeting Wanda’s narrowed eyes with a calm, remorseful demeanor. “I made sure of that.”

Wanda gives a tight, curt nod. “Good.” She steps a fraction closer to you, her shoulder almost in front of yours as if to shield you, even from Bucky, who only helped. The gesture isn’t lost on him; you see Bucky’s expression falter, guilt flashing across his face.

An awkward beat passes. Wanda’s fingers press lightly against your back. “Let’s get you home,” she says softly to you. “I’ll walk you.”

Before you can respond, Bucky speaks up, voice tentative. “Actually…,” he begins, addressing you directly, “if it’s alright, I could walk you home.” He takes a half-step forward, concern still written in every line of him. “I mean—” he glances at Wanda, aware of her glare— “only if you want. I just want to make sure you get home safe.”

Wanda stiffens. “That’s not necessary, Barnes,” she interjects sharply before you can answer. Her use of his last name is icy formality. “I can take care of her.” There’s an unmistakable edge to her words. Wanda doesn’t trust him, not after… everything. You feel the tension crackling between your companions and suddenly you’re caught in the middle of a standoff you hadn’t anticipated.

Bucky holds up his hands in a small, placating gesture. “I know, I know. I just…” He looks at you, his eyes softening. “I’d like to talk to Y/N, if that’s okay and make sure she’s alright.”

Wanda opens her mouth to fire back, but you gently lay a hand on her arm. “Wanda, it’s okay,” you say quietly. She turns to you, eyebrows knitting in concern.

“Are you sure?” Wanda asks under her breath, searching your face. Her protectiveness makes your chest warm; she’s seen you hurt over Bucky, and she’s reluctant to leave you alone with him now.

You manage a small smile for her. “I’m sure, I’ll be fine.” You squeeze her arm gratefully. “Thank you, though. For having my back, always.”

Wanda presses her lips together, then nods. “Alright.” She isn’t happy, you can tell by the way her eyes flick to Bucky like a warning. She steps closer to him, lowering her voice. “Just so we’re clear,” Wanda says, her tone like steel, “if you hurt her again, you answer to me.”

Bucky’s face falls into somber earnestness. He nods once. “Understood,” he replies quietly. “I don’t intend to hurt her. Not ever again.”

Wanda holds his gaze a moment longer, as if measuring his sincerity, then turns back to you. Her expression softens. “Text me when you get home, okay?” she says, pulling you into a brief hug. You nod against her shoulder.

“I will,” you promise. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

With that, Wanda gives Bucky one last cold, lingering look, then slips back inside the house, leaving you and Bucky alone once more in the quiet night.

Bucky waits until the door shuts behind Wanda, the muffled thrum of music from inside the house fading behind you both. The air is cooler now, a gentle breeze brushing past as you begin the slow walk home side by side.

At first, it’s quiet.

Your footsteps on the sidewalk are soft, but your thoughts feel loud in your head. Bucky keeps a respectful distance, his hands buried in the pockets of his hoodie. You can feel the way he wants to talk, the weight of unsaid things pressing against him like gravity.

He breaks the silence first.

“My parents fought a lot,” he says quietly. “Like… every night kind of a lot. They stayed together, but it was like every good day felt borrowed. You’d hold your breath waiting for the next blowup.”

You glance over at him, surprised by the sudden openness.

“I used to stay late at the rink just to avoid going home,” he continues. “My dad didn’t hit me or anything. He just… didn’t know how to love anything without hurting it too and my mom, she was so angry all the time I think she forgot how to care.” He laughs a little, but there’s no humor in it. “Guess I got good at pushing people away before they could do it to me first.”

You walk in silence for a beat, letting the wind carry his words.

“I’m not saying any of this as an excuse,” Bucky says. “There’s no excuse for what I did or didn’t do. I should’ve stopped it. The second I heard them, I should’ve told them to stop, I should have stood up for you. But I didn’t, and I’ve been trying to figure out why for weeks and the truth is… I think I froze. I think I panicked, instead of protecting you, I laughed. Like a fucking coward.”

You nod slowly, swallowing the knot in your throat. “I get it,” you say, your voice softer than expected. “I mean… I don’t, not fully. But I get the whole survival thing. I’ve spent most of my life doing that.”

You pause, and he waits patiently.

“My sister, Kate, she died when I was young,” you finally say, voice trembling slightly. “It was a car accident. She was picking Steve and I up from school. I begged her to take a different route home because I was scared of her driving. I think she was high, she said she was fine, I can’t even remember much now but we hit a red light we wouldn’t have otherwise and that’s when it happened.”

Bucky looks over at you, heart in his eyes.

“She died instantly. And I… I always wondered if that was my fault.” You hug your arms around yourself, the old guilt resurfacing. “Steve… he was there for me through everything. He made me feel like I wasn’t alone. So I clung to him. Probably too tightly. I think part of me never stopped needing to be rescued.”

Bucky’s voice is low. “That’s not your fault.”

You nod, not answering that. “Steve and I… we haven’t talked since the fight. I think I broke something between us and maybe I was wrong for letting anything happen with you. You’re his teammate. His friend. I put you both in a horrible position.”

“You still haven’t talked to him?” Bucky asks, brow furrowed.

You shake your head. “Not yet. I’m not ready.”

He’s quiet for a second, then asks, “Are you ready for ours?”

You blink. “Our what?”

“Our talk. You deserve to put me in my place. Yell at me. Rip me a new one. Whatever you need.”

That earns a reluctant smile from you. “I think I’ve done enough yelling this month.”

Bucky chuckles softly. “Maybe. But I meant what I said back at the house. I want to be in your life. However you’ll have me. As a friend, if that ever feels right again. But I’m not expecting anything. I just want you to know I mean it.”

The words settle in your chest like a fragile weight. “You were putting in effort before,” you say, voice barely above a whisper. “Before you messed it all up.”

Bucky winces, guilt flashing through his eyes like a stormcloud. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “I was. And I want to keep doing that. Every day, if you’ll let me.”

You reach your dorm building, the soft yellow glow of the entryway spilling onto the sidewalk, catching in your hair like starlight. You stop in front of the door, turning toward him.

“This is me,” you say quietly.

Bucky nods, lips pulling into the ghost of a smile. “Yeah. I remember.”

Your laugh is soft, uncertain, but real. The sound is like warmth seeping through a crack in the cold, it feels like maybe the two of you are standing at the edge of something new… or maybe something being rebuilt.

“So,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll… I’ll see you around?”

You nod once, hand resting on the door handle. “Yeah,” you whisper. “I’ll see you around.”

The door closes behind you with a quiet click. You lean against the wood for a second, eyes fluttering shut. Your heart is still racing, not in fear this time, but in something softer. Something cautious.

You pull out your phone, thumb hovering over your messages. Then you click on Wanda.

You: Home safe. Wanda: How was it? You: We talked… it was nice. Wanda: I’ll still kick his ass anytime you need. You: I know. 💛

You look at the screen for a beat longer, then slip the phone into your pocket.

Just before you head down the hall, you pause turning slightly to glance back at the closed door behind you.

Outside, Bucky is still standing under the light, staring at the spot where you’d stood only moments ago.

 Bucky… just stands there.

Still.

Staring at the spot where you stood. His breath clouds faintly in the cool air, the streetlight humming quietly above him. He shoves his hands into his hoodie pockets and tips his head back, eyes closing as he breathes in deep like he’s trying to settle the ache in his chest.

He hadn’t expected you to say yes. Not to the walk, not to any sort of conversation, especially with him and definitely not to leaving the door open, just a little for him.

But you did and that tiny crack in the wall you just built was everything.

He deserved the silence. He deserved the distance. He knew that, he knew the moment he’d laughed along with those guys, the second the words slipped from his mouth that he’d made the biggest mistake of his life.He knew he would never be able to take it back.But he hadn’t expected it to hurt this much.

He'd never hated himself the way he did that day and every day since. But this, tonight was the first time he felt something besides guilt… he felt hope.

Bucky glanced at the dorm door again, the light catching in his tired eyes.

Because the truth was simple: He’d been reckless with you…careless, stupid. And now? He’d walk barefoot across fire if that’s what it took to earn your trust again.

He turned and walked slowly down the sidewalk, the sound of his footsteps swallowed by the quiet. But something about the night felt different, like he was finally on the right path and he wouldn’t mess it up, not again.

[mymindisneverhere]

Double Team

warnings: 18+ smut, mndi!, threesome, oral sex, explicit language, use of the N word, dirty talk, completely consensual, a little angsty (Terry and David are mean/intimidating)… forgive me if I missed any. 

Kelvin Harrison Jr. as David 

Aaron Pierre as Terry

Masterlist

summary: Terry invites his best friend David over to chill while he’s in town. After noticing his “girlfriend” Ava’s fondness for David, Terry lets Ava give his friend a happy ending before he leaves. 

a/n: my first time writing a threesome… let me know what y'all think! 

“Did you need anything else before I go back to the room?” Ava asked, trying to get Terry to give her some sort of attention. He had been so caught up in spending time with his friend, he wasn’t paying her any mind at all. 

Terry and David spent majority of their time catching up, sharing stories and playing a few rounds of 2k. They were so busy enjoying each others company, Ava had simply been background noise.

“Nah I’m good.” Terry responded, keeping his eyes locked on the tv screen. 

“David, you need anything?” Ava asked, turning her attention to his friend. She knew what she was doing. Purposely going out of her way to be of service to another man in Terry’s presence just so he could have a reason to acknowledge her. 

“I’m good, thanks!” David replied, meeting her eyes as they stared at his lips. 

“You can leave now, Ava.” Terry said, watching her while she stared at David. This was his third time catching her somewhat in a trance as she looked at his friend. 

He kept his eyes on her as she walked back to his bedroom and instantly got an idea, one that would truly test the “connection” between he and Ava.

David had also noticed how much she stared at him all night, his lips in particular. Even when he wasn’t talking directly to her, her eyes never left his mouth. He’d lick his lips on purpose just to see if she’d lick hers as well and just like clockwork her tongue would peek through before pulling her bottom lip in between her teeth. 

David and Terry were very similar, especially in the way that they loved to see women almost drooling in desperation just to get an ounce of attention from them. It was always the pretty yet easy ones that clung to them no matter where they were.

“Ava!” Terry called. 

Ava appeared once again, waiting for him to let her know what he needed from her. 

He sat quiet for a few seconds, just to watch her fidget with her shorts. He loved the fact that he intimidated her. She was always constantly worrying if she was doing anything that would completely turn him off. She stood there, eyebrows slightly raised as she waited for his instruction.

After a few more seconds he began to speak. Terry gave Ava some bullshit story about him accidentally leaving his phone in the car and not wanting to be a horrible guest by leaving his friend unattended. So he asked Ava to run downstairs to retrieve it for him and she did just that without contest. 

While she spent the next twenty minutes searching for the phone that was in his pocket the whole time, he let David in on the plan he had. Since she wanted so badly to be all in his friend's face he figured he’d give her the “green light” to go all the way if that’s what she wanted to do. 

Terry told David all about his escapades with Ava; how well she’d take him into her throat without struggle, how good she was at following directions, but most of all how desperate she was to please him. 

Terry could say jump and Ava would ask “How high?” and proceed to jump beyond his expectations. She was almost like his personal ‘pet’, there to do whatever he asked, whenever he asked. 

He didn’t care much about her feelings and had made it very clear to her that he had no plans in doing anything past fucking her. However, out of all of the friends he introduced her to, she had only reacted to David in the same way that she would react to Terry.  

Terry was feeling a bit of jealousy but he would never admit that to a girl like Ava. Instead, he wanted to see just how far she’d go just to make him proud… even if that meant fucking his best friend on command. 

Once it clicked to her that his phone wasn’t in his car, she quickly made her way back up to his apartment. The gray jacket from the tracksuit Terry had bought her a few months ago hung off of her shoulder as she pressed the button on the elevator. She folded her arms over her chest and leaned against the back wall. Crossing one leg over the other, she could feel the wetness in between her thighs that clung to the thin shorts she wore with no panties. 

Thoughts of her kissing David had been swirling in her mind since Terry had introduced them. While she was working hard to get Terry to finally commit to her, it was hard for her to not be attracted to his best friend. She wanted so badly to feel his lips on hers… and her lower set too. 

“Ugh, I wish David would hurry up and leave already! I cannot be thinking about fucking him right now.” She said to herself. 

When Ava entered the apartment, the living room was empty. The TV was turned off, the PlayStation remotes were placed on the charging station and it was strangely quiet.

She shut the door behind her and walked deeper into the apartment, peeking her head around the corner until she saw David sitting on Terry’s bed. 

“Get in here.” Terry demanded. 

Ava walked slowly into the bedroom until Terry came into view. He sat in the corner, arms folded and legs spread as if he was preparing to scold her about something. David sat on the edge of the bed leaning forward on his knees as he stared up at her. Both of their stares were so intimidating. She chewed the inside of her jaw as her eyes switched back and forth between Terry and David. 

“You think I don’t know what’s been going on in your mind all night?” Terry asked, voice extremely calm. 

Ava frowned a bit, confused as to what he was referring to. “What?”

Her gaze continued to shift between the two men, both burning holes in her face. She could sense the tension in the air. She could see the hunger in both of their faces even though they tried to hide their desires with blank expressions. 

“Don’t play with me Ava.” Terry eyed her from her head to her feet, licking his lips to keep himself calm. “You thinkin’ about fuckin’ David?”

Ava’s breath caught in her throat as the question left his lips. She was hoping her moments of staring at his friend had gone unnoticed by Terry, but he notices everything about her whether he brings it to her attention or not. She stood quietly as she fiddled with the bottom of her shorts, trying to predict what could possibly come next. 

“Go ahead.” Terry calmly instructed, resting both arms on the sides of the chair. 

Ava swallowed the lump in her throat, unsure of what exactly he wanted her to do. She was thinking that he was simply testing her. After all, the only man she’d been with in the past two years was Terry. 

Once again, her mind swirled with so many thoughts; was Terry going to call it quits and end whatever this was between the two of them if she did this? Or would he end it all if she said no?

She didn’t know the right decision to make at that moment, so she decided to do what she truly wanted to do. 

‘Fuck the consequence.’ She thought. 

Ava turned her attention to David, licking her lips as she stared down at his. He licked his once more, teasing her as he watched her eyes twinkle. He stayed still, waiting to see what she was going to do to please him for the evening. She smirked a bit, feeling a small sense of control as she studied his face. 

David had been a sweetheart all night. The slight look of innocence in his face had her feeling more confident than ever. Ava knew she’d be able to break him down, one thing she had failed to do with Terry.

She took a few steps forward before he stopped her in her tracks. 

“Strip.” David instructed, his gaze never leaving hers.

Ava looked over to Terry who said nothing. His empty expression let her know that he didn’t feel any kind of way about what was happening right before him. He wasn't going to tell his friend what to do with her or how to do it. She had permission do what she wanted and so did David.

She turned her head back to face David and the smirk that she once wore, quickly faded. She pulled the zipper down on her jacket, letting it fall off of her shoulders and onto the floor. Pushing her shorts to the ground, she stepped out one leg at a time. 

Terry licked his lips as he eyed her. Her body was always his favorite thing about her. He shifted in his seat a bit and adjusted his sweatpants, not wanting to poke through his pants just yet. 

Ava took a few steps forward and was stopped once again at the sound of his voice, deep and demanding. 

“Knees.” Terry said, still staring blankly at her. 

She slowly lowered to her knees, one knee touching the soft carpet before the other. Her eyes landed on David's lips once again, full and moistened from his tongue. Her heart was beating so fast, a combination of anxiousness and excitement swirling throughout her body. She placed her hands on his knees to try to find her balance, unsure if she wanted to kiss him softly or shove her tongue down his throat.

“This what you wanted right?” Terry’s voice boomed from the corner of the room. “You’ve been starin’ at the nigga all night, don’t act shy now.”

Ava leaned up a bit and pressed her lips into Davids, moaning from the touch alone. He tilted his head to the side in an effort to deepen their kiss. The sounds of their lips pulling from the other filled the room, making Terry lean back further into the chair. 

David purposely eased himself back a bit in between the kiss, causing Ava to lean forward. The desperation alone was amusing to him. She’d lean in even more and he’d pull his head back even further. 

Eventually her attempts at feeling his lips on hers again had her full breasts rubbing against his hands. He squeezed them tightly, pinching her nipples while he stuck his tongue in her mouth. 

Ava instantly caught onto what he was doing and moaned into his mouth, enjoying the game he was playing with her. He toyed with her nipples, wanting to feel her moan against his lips again. They wrestled with each other, kissing as if they had both been dying to find out what the other tasted like. 

“Scoot back on the bed.” She whispered against his lips. 

He eyed her as she leaned back a bit, just enough to give him room to push his body further onto the large bed. She stood and climbed on top of him, returning her lips to his. The way her body sat above his, the arch in her back, the slight movement of her ass as she made herself comfortable, had Terry’s eyes low but focused solely on her. 

Ava placed kisses down David’s chin until she reached his neck. Sticking her tongue out, she licked his skin before taking it into her mouth. This moment alone had David’s hips lifting slightly off of the bed. The thick bulge in his pants rubbing against her stomach let her know that she had found his sweet spot. 

She walked herself back a bit, coming face to face with his crotch. David lifted his head off of the bed to watch her pull at his joggers. After a quick second, his dick bounced from the loose fitted pants and she bit her lip at the sight of it. 

Ava could sense Terry’s uneasiness from where he sat. He always did a good job at keeping a poker face but she knew it was taking every bit of his strength to keep himself from joining in too soon. 

Grabbing a handful of David’s dick, she ran her tongue up the side as her eyes landed on Terry’s. Both the look of innocence and lust filled them as she took his best friend into her mouth. 

“Fuck.” David spat. 

Ava sucked him slowly with intention in every move she made. Her eyes still never left Terry’s. She knew he’d love to see her be someone else’s bitch at the snap of his finger. The way she moaned while sucking David’s dick was almost as if she was the one being pleasured. It was her way of communicating with Terry without words. If this is what he wanted to see, she was sure to let him know much fun she was having. 

Spit ran down the length of David’s dick, dripping down into the crack of his ass. Ava rolled her head around, slurping and humming as she sucked him. David was impressed and at the same time turned on by her willingness to make a mess, even if she looked crazy doing it. 

‘You can’t worry about bein’ pretty when you tryin’ to suck a nigga soul out.’ Terry would tell her when they first became involved with one another. Just like that, he had taught her what to do and how to do it well. 

Terry couldn’t stay in his seat any longer. He stood up from the chair and walked to the side of the bed. She watched as he approached, already aware of what he wanted from her. 

Using the spit that had poured from her throat, she stroked David with her left hand while pulling at Terry with her right. With a slight tug at his sweats, his dick sprang up, ready to receive whatever she had to give. She took him into her mouth, already salivated from throating his friend a few moments ago. 

Both men were caught up in the moment, enjoying the pleasures they were receiving from this one woman. Terry reached down to push her hair off of her shoulders, wrapping his hand around the back of her neck to pull her even further onto his dick. The sounds of him hitting her throat instantly filled the room right along with the sticky sounds of her stroking David. 

“You got her trained well.” David said, eyebrows bent as he watched her work. 

“I told you.” Terry replied, watching his dick disappear then reappear again and again. 

After a few moments, David removed her hand and stood up from the bed. Dropping his shirt to the floor, he stood at the foot of the bed. Terry popped himself out of her mouth for a split second as David grabbed her hips and placed her on her back. 

Without any hesitation, David’s lips latched onto her clit, sending shockwaves through her body. It wasn’t very often that she’d get to feel the pleasure of being sucked on in this way. Terry would make her jump through hoops just to get this treatment. 

Ava sat up on her elbows and looked down to watch David eat her, biting her lip and moaning at the sight. However, this was a set up and she didn’t even see it coming. 

Terry grabbed the back of her head and guided himself back into her mouth. He knew it would be a challenge for her to suck him properly while having David’s head in between her legs. 

“Swallow my shit.” Terry demanded. His eyebrows bent as he looked down in slight frustration. He kept his hand at the back of her head, bringing the tip of her nose to his abdomen. 

Her eyes rolled into her head as she spit up on herself. Terry pulled her head back, relieving her for just a few seconds before pressing her face against his stomach once again. Terry knew that every time she’d gag on his dick, her juices would flow more and more. 

Ava’s body was experiencing so much at once, aching from ecstasy. She was moaning and whining out of pure satisfaction and agony. The thoughts she had about David earlier, all of the assumptions she made about him were all correct.

He sucked on her clit, using his hands to spread her lips further apart so he could give even more attention straight to her middle. His tongue lapped all of the juices that spilled from her entrance before locking his full lips onto her clit again.

Terry yanked her head back once again and stared down at her while she tried to gain her composure. He licked his lips at the sight before him. Her brows were curled as she stared up at him, trying to keep her eyes open as she enjoyed David’s tongue. 

“Who taught you how to be this nasty?” Terry asked, tilting his head a bit. 

“You did.” Ava responded, hiccuping in between her response. 

Gripping the back of her neck tighter, he thrust himself back into her mouth. The sounds of spit escaping her throat fell into a rhythm while the noises from David’s lips playing in her essence blended in. Ava’s moans grew louder as she felt herself cumming, eyes shut tight as her body shook. 

“Yeah, enjoy that shit while it lasts.” Terry teased dryly. 

David stood and licked his lips. He slapped her ass, signaling her to assume the position, all fours. Ava immediately flipped her body over, placing her hands and knees onto the bed, never freeing Terry from her lips. 

Terry’s head fell back as he pushed himself in and out of her mouth. Lifting the bottom of his shirt up to his lips, he gripped it in between his teeth and placed his other hand on her head. Keeping her in place, he pushed his hips forward, not caring about how rough he was being. 

David stood behind her and ran the tip of his dick through her slit, collecting all of the juices that dripped from her hole. He toyed with her clit, slapping his tip against it just to watch her body jerk from the sensitivity. Smirking to himself, he entered her slowly in an effort to brace himself for the grip Terry had mentioned to him. 

“Fuuuuck, this shit tight.” David groaned through gritted teeth.  

“Loosen her up.” Terry joked, still fucking her face relentlessly. 

David slapped her ass a few more times, watching it jiggle against his lower abdomen. He gripped her hips to make it easier for him to fall in exactly how he wanted to. In a matter of seconds, both men were stuffing her from both ends. Using her to chase after their own satisfactions.

Ava felt like a ping pong ball being tossed between two opponents. The clapping of her ass against his stomach and the gargling of her throat was music to all of their ears. The way her breasts bounced from the force coming from both sides, had Terry in a trance. 

While spit dripped from her mouth, covering her chin, her pussy creamed all over David’s dick. Moans, grunts and curses bounced off of the walls as they took their time enjoying themselves. 

To prevent himself from cumming too soon, Terry pulled out of her mouth and lifted her chin up to take in the damage they had done so far.  

“This what you wanted?” He asked, smirking at the tears that covered her face. 

Ava nodded, unable to keep her eyes open from the feeling of her orgasm peaking through. 

The way she struggled to catch her breath after deepthroating him while simultaneously being fucked so well from behind turned Terry on even more than before.

Her body weakened as she came. If Terry didn’t have such a tight grip on her chin, her face would’ve hit the mattress. She cried out in intense pleasure as David continued stroking her past climax. Terry tapped her cheek with his fingers until she opened her eyes, looking up at him as his piercing green irises stared down at her. 

“If we don’t get a nut, it’s gonna be a long night for you.” Terry said before telling David to switch. 

It had already been an hour and the two men were still having their way. Orgasm after orgasm, Ava was damn near worn out. They tossed her around like a rag doll, tag teaming her as if she were their opponent. Terry had taken over, throwing her into the position he wanted without hesitation.

“You’re my slut, right?” 

“Yes!” Ava yelled.

“I know you are.” Terry said, pushing her thighs back as he dug deep into her. 

Ava’s head hung slightly off of the bed where David stood. It was now Terry’s turn to fuck her how he chose to and quite frankly, Ava had no complaints. The sounds of his thighs slapping against her ass had taken over the room. Terry bit down on his lip as he stared at her breasts, watching them bounce as a result of his movement.

“Open up for me.” David instructed. 

Opening her mouth, Ava stuck her tongue out. David dipped his thickness into her mouth, placing his hands on her breasts for leverage. The two men had fallen right back into their rhythms, filling her holes, not leaving much room for her to move.

David played with her nipples once again, aware of the fact that it drove her crazy. The enjoyment they both got from watching her struggle to fight against the pleasure in order to please them properly was the best part of it all. Her moans, the way she scratched at Terry’s forearms, the sounds of her gargling spit as David filled her throat, was marking a night they’d all remember. 

“Why this pussy so wet, huh? You like gettin’ fucked like this, don’t you?” Terry asked. 

“Mhmmm.” Ava moaned, unable to fully respond. 

“This a dirty bitch.” David said, gaining a chuckle from his friend. 

The two best friends had their way with her, making sure to keep her stuffed through the entirety of this session. 

Ava’s moans were the loudest sound in the room. She had been completely taken over by all of the pleasure happening at the same time. Hearing Terry’s deep voice as he grunted and growled while he fucked her and hearing David’s curses of shock and admiration had her cumming back to back. 

A thick ring of cum settled right at the base of his dick and he loved to see it. He pulled out, rubbing his tip up the crack of her ass to gather the creaminess that spilled from her then dug right back into her as if he never stopped. 

“Fuck!” Terry spat, feeling his own nut rise to the surface. 

“Mmmmm.” Ava hummed. 

David’s hips jerked a bit from the vibration of her throat around his dick. His mouth fell open a bit as he watched her throat stretch then shrink from his view. 

“Oh shit, I’m bout to nut.” David announced, as he fucked her face with a bit more force, desperately chasing his desire to cum. 

Both men picked up their pace, increasing the momentum as they felt themselves preparing to bust. 

David pulled out of her mouth and stroked himself as thick strings covered her face. Ava stuck her tongue out, trying to catch whatever she could in her mouth as he came. 

Not too far behind him, Terry let out a deep grunt as he stilled himself deep inside of her, letting every drop of his seed fill her walls. After a few seconds, he pulled out, watching his cum mix with hers as it oozed from her hole down to her ass. 

Their heavy breathing could be heard from another room as they brought themselves back down from their sexual highs. David placed his hands on his hips as he fought to catch his breath. Terry slapped her ass a few times, his way of telling her that he enjoyed it. 

“Did I make you proud daddy?” Ava asked, sitting up on her elbows, face still covered in cum. Her brows were lifted in anticipation as she awaited his response. 

“Hell yeah.” Terry responded breathlessly. “Go get in the shower.” 

Ava stood up from the bed and walked to the bathroom. 

The two men immediately got dressed and made their way to the living room. Both shaking their heads in surprise and satisfaction, they turned to one another, slapping hands as they laughed. 

“Mannnn.” David began. “I was just complaining about making this trip but it was worth it.”

“I’m happy to hear that.” Terry laughed, walking his friend to the door. “Let me know when you’re in town again, maybe she’ll be down for another round or two.” 

(Please excuse any mistakes! 🩵) 

taglist: @saltburnsworld @saturnville @kykylovesblog @ovohanna24 @notapradagurl7 @ms-mosley-ifunastyyy @blackmoonchilee @blckblossom @kaylaahisthebestest-

If you wanna join the taglist pls comment and I'll be sure to add you from here on out. 🩵

[moonlightwritingf1]

Holiday Movie Marathon | LN4

❄️‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡❄️ summary ━━━━━━━ Y/N attends a spontaneous movie night at Lando’s, where their usual banter deepens into a confession of feelings. Lando reveals he feels the same, and they share a kiss. 

❄️‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡❄️ pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

❄️‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡❄️ word count ━━━━━━━ 1.7k

The streets of London were aglow with twinkling fairy lights, the holiday season blanketing the city in a warm, magical glow. Y/N stepped out of her office building, wrapping her coat tightly around her as the December chill bit at her cheeks. It was just another evening in her life—a quiet one, predictable even. But tonight held the promise of something different.

A soft chime from her phone pulled her from her thoughts. Pulling her gloves off, she fished it out of her pocket. The message was from Max, the mutual friend who had introduced her to Lando Norris a few months ago.

Max: "Change of plans—movie night at Lando’s instead of mine. You in?"

Y/N hesitated for a moment, her thumb hovering over the keyboard. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to go. She did. But spending the evening at Lando’s flat felt… significant in a way she wasn’t sure she was ready to confront. Still, before she could overthink it, she typed a quick response.

Y/N: "Sure. What time?"

By the time Y/N arrived at Lando’s flat, it was a little after 7 PM. The air was crisp, her breath visible as she exhaled. Standing at his door, she adjusted her scarf nervously. It wasn’t the first time she’d been here, but it still felt surreal. Lando’s world—his high-profile lifestyle, his effortless charm—always felt a little removed from her own quiet, 9-to-5 existence.

The door opened before she could knock, revealing Lando with a tray of drinks in his hands. His face lit up when he saw her.

"Y/N!" he said warmly, stepping back to let her in.

"Hey," she replied, her voice soft. She shrugged off her coat, her sweater clinging to her frame as she smoothed it nervously.

"I’m glad you made it," he said, setting the tray down on the coffee table in the living room. His grin turned a little sheepish. "Max bailed last minute, so it’s just us tonight."

Her stomach flipped. "Oh. Um… I can leave if you—"

"Don’t even think about it," he cut her off, his grin widening as he turned to her. "You’re not leaving me to watch Love Actually alone."

Y/N laughed, a sound that was light but genuine. "Well, when you put it like that…"

"Exactly," he said, handing her a steaming mug of hot chocolate topped with whipped cream and marshmallows. "Now, come on. Couch is ready. Snacks are ready. All we need is you."

The two of them settled into the large sectional sofa, blankets draped over their laps and snacks within arm’s reach. The first movie played in the background, though neither of them paid much attention to it at first. Their conversation flowed easily, punctuated by Lando’s teasing remarks.

"So, do you always root for the bad guys in movies?" he asked, his eyebrows raised as she defended yet another movie villain.

"Only when they make sense," Y/N shot back, her cheeks warming under his amused gaze.

"You’re dangerous, you know that?" he said, shaking his head in mock disapproval. "Remind me never to get on your bad side."

"I make no promises," she replied, her voice bolder than she expected.

Lando chuckled, his laughter rich and warm, and Y/N felt her chest tighten. Being around him was like standing in the sun—bright and intoxicating, but overwhelming if she stayed too long.

Somewhere between the second and third movie, the teasing faded, replaced by a comfortable silence. It wasn’t until Y/N shifted slightly that she realized how close they’d become. Lando’s head had found its way to her shoulder, his body leaning into hers as his breathing slowed.

Her heart raced as she glanced down at him. He looked peaceful, his long lashes resting against his cheeks, his usual playful expression softened in sleep.

She allowed herself a moment to take him in, her thoughts drifting. Over the months since they’d met, Lando had become more than just a mutual friend. Despite his glamorous life, he had a way of making her feel seen, like she was the only person in the room when he looked at her. He was warm and thoughtful, funny in a way that disarmed her.

And yet, she couldn’t bring herself to admit how she felt.

Thinking he was fully asleep, Y/N let the words slip out in a whisper. "I really wish you knew how much I like you."

She froze as his eyes fluttered open, locking onto hers.

"How much of that did you think I didn’t hear?" he asked, his voice husky from sleep, a teasing smirk pulling at his lips.

Her face turned crimson. "I—I thought you were asleep!"

"Clearly not," he murmured, sitting up slightly but still leaning into her space. "So… how much do you like me?"

"Lando…" she started, but the words caught in her throat.

"No, no," he said gently, his smirk softening into a sincere smile. "Don’t back out now. I want to hear it."

She looked away, her heart pounding in her chest. "I… I like you. A lot. Probably more than I should."

"Why 'should'?" he asked, his tone suddenly serious.

"Because… you’re you. And I’m just me," she admitted quietly.

His frown deepened at that. He reached out, tilting her chin so she’d face him. "What’s that supposed to mean? Y/N, you’re amazing. You’re smart, funny, and you make me feel like just a normal guy when I’m around you. I like that. I like you."

She blinked at him, her mind struggling to process his words. "You… like me?"

"Is that so hard to believe?" he teased, though there was an edge of vulnerability in his voice.

"I mean, yeah," she admitted with a nervous laugh.

"Well, believe it," he said firmly, his eyes holding hers. "And just so you know, I don’t fall asleep during movie nights with people I don’t care about."

A soft laugh escaped her, her chest feeling impossibly light. "So this is your version of a compliment?"

"Pretty much," he said, his grin returning. "But if you need more convincing…"

Before she could respond, he leaned in, his lips brushing hers in a kiss that was both soft and certain.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of quiet laughter, shared glances, and stolen kisses. By the time the final movie ended, Y/N was curled up against Lando, his arm draped over her shoulders as though it had always belonged there. The warmth of his presence made the room feel smaller, cozier—like their own little world.

But as the credits rolled, the reality of the time set in. Y/N stretched slightly, reluctant to move, but knowing she had to.

"I should probably get going," she murmured, glancing at the clock.

Lando tightened his arm around her for a moment, his reluctance to let her go clear. "You sure? You could stay a little longer. Maybe one more movie?"

Y/N chuckled softly. "It’s past midnight, Lando. If I stay any longer, I might as well sleep here."

His lips curved into a teasing smirk. "I wouldn’t mind that."

Her cheeks warmed at the suggestion, though she shook her head. "Nice try."

Sighing dramatically, he stood up, offering her a hand to pull her to her feet. "Alright, but I’m not just letting you take the train this late. I’ll drive you home."

"Lando, you don’t have to—"

"Y/N," he interrupted, already grabbing his jacket. "I want to."

She opened her mouth to argue but stopped when she saw the firm set of his jaw. There was no point in arguing; he’d already made up his mind.

The streets of London were quieter now, the usual hum of the city softened by the late hour. Lando’s car cut through the cool night, the soft sound of music filling the space between them.

Y/N glanced out the window, her head leaning lightly against the seat. The night had been surreal—what had started as a casual movie night had shifted into something so much more.

"Quiet over there," Lando said, glancing at her briefly before returning his focus to the road. "Penny for your thoughts?"

She hesitated for a moment before turning to him. "Just… thinking about tonight. About you."

His lips tugged into a small smile. "Good things, I hope."

"Mostly," she teased, her lips curving into a faint smile.

He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. "Careful, Y/N. Keep talking like that, and I might start thinking you enjoy giving me a hard time."

"Someone has to keep you humble," she replied, the playful banter easing her nerves.

When they pulled up outside her flat, the quiet between them grew heavy—not uncomfortable, but charged with unspoken emotions. Lando turned off the engine and shifted to face her.

"Thanks for driving me," Y/N said softly, her fingers fiddling with the strap of her bag.

"Anytime," he replied, his tone sincere. "I meant what I said earlier, by the way."

She looked at him, her brows furrowing slightly. "About what?"

"About this being a tradition," he said, his gaze steady on hers. "And about wanting to keep you around for a long time."

Her breath hitched, the weight of his words settling over her. She searched his face, finding nothing but honesty in his expression.

"I’d like that," she finally whispered, her voice barely audible.

Lando’s smile softened, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face. "Good."

Without giving herself time to overthink, Y/N leaned in, her lips meeting his in a kiss that was tender and lingering. When they pulled back, her cheeks were flushed, but she couldn’t bring herself to look away from him.

"You should go in before I find another excuse to keep you here," he murmured, though his hand lingered on hers.

Y/N laughed softly, her heart impossibly full. "Goodnight, Lando."

"Goodnight, Y/N," he replied, watching as she stepped out of the car and made her way to her door.

He waited until she was safely inside before driving off, a small smile still playing on his lips. As he navigated the quiet streets back to his place, one thought kept circling in his mind: this was just the beginning of something far better than he ever could have imagined.

[kawacake]

FEVER DREAM

Chapter 1, Chapter 2,..

𝑺𝒂𝒍 𝑭𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒓:

Age : 19 years of age

Status : Alive

Band Role : Leader & Guitarist

Introduced : Chapter One

“I’m tired of pretending that she was some sort of fever dream.”

𝑳𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝑱𝒐𝒉𝒏𝒔𝒐𝒏:

Age : 20 years of age

Status : Alive

Band Role : Drummer

Introduced : Chapter One

“The past is the past let it go.”

𝑨𝒔𝒉𝒍𝒆𝒚 𝑪𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒍:

Age : 20 years of age

Status : Alive

Band Role : Bass Guitarist

Introduced : Chapter One

“Let’s just hope she didn’t pull a Kurt Cobain on us.!”

𝑻𝒐𝒅𝒅 𝑴𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒐𝒏:

Age : 18 years of age

Status : Alive

Band Role : Manager

Introduced : Chapter One

“How did we manage to fuck shit up in the span of a year and three months.”

𝒀/𝒏 𝑳/𝒏:

Age : 19 years of age

Status : Unknown

Band Role : Lead Singer

Introduced : Chapter One

“I think of you everyday and night..”

-

"Have you ever loved someone so much that even when they're gone, you still feel them everywhere?" 

-

Todd was the one who found her. The band had been stuck for months, the same conversations circling like vultures. We need a singer. We can’t just be an instrumental band forever. Who the hell is gonna take us seriously? And then, out of nowhere, Todd said he found someone.

"She's… different," he had warned as they sat in their crammed practice space, the walls covered in old gig posters and stained setlists. "But I think she might be exactly what we need."

When Y/N walked in, it was like setting a fire in a quiet room. The first thing Larry said was, “No fucking way.” “Rude.” You scoffed.

The first thing Sal thought was, What the hell is Todd thinking? She didn’t look like she belonged. At all. The rest of them were wrapped in the grunge and punk aesthetics of their scene—ripped jeans, worn-out flannels, band tees that had been through too many washes. Y/N, on the other hand, looked like she had just stepped out of a wild party that no one else had been invited to. The kind of girl who left a trail of perfume and bad decisions in her wake.

But then she sang.

And suddenly, none of that mattered. Her voice was raw and electric, the kind that could send chills down your spine or set your whole world on fire. By the time she finished, the room was silent. Even Larry, who had been the most skeptical, just let out a low whistle.

"Shit," Ashley muttered, gripping the neck of her bass. "Guess we found our singer." And just like that, she was one of them.

For a while, it was perfect. The late-night practices, the shitty diner runs after gigs, the way she somehow made every song they wrote feel alive. And Sal, Sal couldn’t help but get caught up in her gravity.

But perfection never lasts.

Because after a year and three months, Y/N vanished. No warning. No note. Nothing. Just gone. And now, all that was left was Sal, and a cigarette but somewhere else, miles away, Y/N tells the same story. But her version is different. -

A/n: Haii this is something different from my usual writing but I hope you like it cause I really love Sally face, but that’s all I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoy writing this byeeee.

[gpcwsl]

“Oh, you think you’re so funny, aren’t you?”

May i request lia walti x walti!reader where the reader is wally's mischievous and chaotic younger sister who left home quietly to surprise her sister in London and when lia is not home she hides until lia comes back from her training to surprise her big sister who almost had the fright of her life. And it is here where the arsenal team is introduced to lia's chaotic sister who cannot be more different than her.

Thank you

Lia Wälti x Sister!Reader

You think you’re so funny?

WC: 582

MasterList

Warnings: short, maybe?

My first sister fic! You can request sister fictions, them I can do.

Song: If we have eachother - Alec Benjamin

You step out of the taxi, grinning as you take in the quiet London neighborhood. The sun is shining, and there’s a slight chill in the air, but you’re too excited to care.

You adjust the straps of your backpack, bouncing on your heels as you stare at the house in front of you. Lia’s house. Your big sister’s house.

She has no idea you’re here.

You hadn’t told her you were coming, and in true you fashion, you had snuck out of home without a word, booked a flight, and now stood at her doorstep, ready to execute the perfect surprise.

Lia was calm, responsible, and organized. You, on the other hand? The walking definition of chaos.

You press your ear to the door—silence. She must still be at training. Even better. That gives you time to set up. Fishing the spare key from your pocket (Lia really should know better than to trust you with this), you let yourself in.

The house is neat—of course, it is—so you make yourself at home in the only way you know how: dramatically. Shoes kicked off, backpack tossed onto the couch, and then you get to work.

Hiding.

The goal? Give your big sister the fright of her life.

You consider the classic jump out and scream method but decide it’s too predictable. Instead, you crawl under the dining table, perfectly hidden by the chairs and the tablecloth. Now, you wait.

After what feels like forever (and a slight nap on the floor), you hear voices approaching. The front door opens, and laughter fills the house.

Wait. That’s more than one voice.

“Come in, come in,” Lia says, sounding relaxed. “I’ll make tea.”

You peek out ever so slightly. Lia, still in her Arsenal training gear, is pulling off her jacket, chatting with—oh, wow, half her teammates?

You recognize a few of them. Kim Little, Leah Williamson, Katie McCabe… okay, so this is about to be an even bigger audience than expected.

Perfect.

As they move further inside, you stay hidden, holding back your laughter. The moment Lia steps past the table, you strike.

With a sudden burst of movement, you grab her ankle.

Lia lets out a scream so loud it could wake the dead. She jumps at least two feet in the air, arms flailing, nearly knocking over Kim in the process.

The room falls into stunned silence.

Then, slowly, you crawl out from your hiding spot, grinning up at your sister.

“Surprise.”

Lia’s hand is over her chest, her eyes wide as she gasps for air. “WHAT THE—?! You—?! What are you doing here?!”

“Visiting!” You beam, standing up and stretching. “Missed me?”

Her teammates, who had been frozen in shock, suddenly burst into laughter.

“Jesus Christ, Wally, you okay?” Leah wheezes, gripping the back of a chair for support.

“That’s your sister?” Katie says, wiping a tear from her eye. “You two are nothing alike!”

Lia groans, rubbing her temples. “No kidding.” Then, turning to you, she narrows her eyes. “Oh, you think you’re so funny, aren’t you?”

You shrug, still grinning. “Well, yeah. And clearly, so do your friends.” You gesture at her teammates, who are still cracking up.

Lia lets out a deep sigh, but you see the small smile tugging at her lips. Despite almost suffering a heart attack, she pulls you into a tight hug, mumbling something about you being impossible.

And just like that, your surprise mission?

A complete success.

[russo-woso]

Two different people || UNC!Alessia Russo x reader

Request | Masterlist

Summary You notice that Alessia’s a complete different person when in England compared to back in the states

“You don’t need to be so nervous. They’ll love you, baby. Just be yourself.” Alessia reassured you, wrapping her arm around your waist, her fingers slipping through the loop of your jeans.

“I’m meeting your friends for the first time, lessi. What if they don’t like me?”

“You already know Lotte, and Lois. They’ll be there and then it’s a few others. Niamh, she’s chill. Knowing her, she’s only here for the coffee. Georgia’s nice, and well… Tooney, you’ve practically met her already—”

“—Over FaceTime.” You added quickly, biting down on your bottom lip.

“Calm down, love.” Alessia whispered, her footsteps coming to a halt as she turned to look at you. “Baby, you found a way to make me fall utterly in love with you by just being yourself. Just be yourself today, okay?”

“Okay.” You agreed, a small smile appearing on your face.

“Good.” Alessia murmured against your forehead, pressing her lips to your hairline before making the final steps towards the small cafe.

Ella was the first one to the two of you, her arms wrapping round Alessia - having not seen each other in months.

She then enveloped you in a hug.

“It’s so good to finally meet you, Ella.” You told her, separating from the hug.

“God knows how you put up with her.” Ella said

“Tooney…” alessia muttered

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. If anyone back in America had said something like that, they would have been met with a death stare from Alessia. Maybe because it was Ella she didn’t?

You went round to Niamh and Georgia, introducing yourself before walking to the table.

Everyone was sat at a seat, there being no more seats left.

Normally, Alessia would just pull you onto her lap but instead, she got up and got another chair.

“Is everything okay?” She questioned you as your eyebrows furrowed once again.

“Yeah.” You nodded, pressing your lips to her cheeks. “I’m gonna go get a coffee, would you like anything?”

“I’m okay for now, thank you, love.”

You wondered up to the till, peaking at the cakes when you felt a body press into yours.

Turning your head, you come face to face with a man - your age - maybe 17/18?

“I’ve never seen you around here before.” He said, a smirk resting on his face.

“I’m just visiting.” You answered, your American accent thick.

“American? Where from?”

“I’m from Washington but I go to college in North—” You began but he soon cut you off.

“—Let me buy you your coffee and maybe in return you let me take you out for dinner?” He suggested

“I can’t, sorry.”

“Come on. I know a place round the corner. How about tonight?”

“Look. I’m actually visiting with my girlfriend to meet her friends. They’re all over there.” You told him, pointing to the loud table in the corner.

You caught Alessia’s eyes as she eyed the man next to you.

“Look, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.” He apologised, his face turning red in embarrassment.

“Is everything okay here?” Alessia asked, appearing by your side before you got the chance to reply to him.

“Yeah, just a small misunderstanding. I’m sorry again.” He explained

Alessia knew what was going on but unlike the normal shouting and causing a scene like she normally would have done, she simply smiled and nodded her head.

“Have a nice day.” She told him as he left. “Why are you looking at me like that?” She questioned, looking at your scrunched up eyebrows.

“You’re different here.”

“What do you mean?”

“Back in America, you would have kicked his ass for talking to me. Earlier, when there was no chair, you didn’t pull me into your lap. And you didn’t give Ella a death stare when she made that comment. I don’t know how to explain it but you’re just different, more quiet, I guess? It’s like your two different people.” You said, looking up a the blonde as she nodded.

“I guess I am. At college, no one knows who I am - apart from Lotte and Lois. I’m more reserved back in England because I know people here but in the states, I get to act however I want to because they don’t know the me from England. I get to be more confident.” Alessia explained, your eyes softening at her words.

“So what you’re saying is I technically have two girlfriends? Theres American Alessia and then England Alessia?” You joked

“Yeah, basically. Which one do you like more though?” Alessia smirked

“Well I love both of them, but maybe when it’s just the two of us, I like the American lessi a bit more.” You winked

“Well it’s a good job that I don’t change in that aspect when I’m in England, huh?”

“In what aspect?” Ella asked, clearly overhearing the last sentence.

“Nothing.” You and Alessia answered quickly

“I somehow don’t think I want to know now.”