#and everyone started pitching in and hyping her up

[averytallproblem]

Statement about Shavs Media Productions

AVTP v1 began as a @shavs-media-productions project. We experienced the same professional and personal failures described by Dott, up to the point that AVTP v1 was essentially dead and the thought of continuing it only brought our team members stress and pain.

We are disheartened to see that years afterward, the same patterns are continuing on SMP and no lessons have been learned. Everyone makes mistakes, especially when someone starts something with little experience, as Shavs did with a project of AVTP’s size and scope. Mistakes should generally be forgiven…however when those “mistakes” are handled with stubbornness/deception and continue despite repeated and constant opposition from everyone else involved…those mistakes stop being mistakes and become testaments to the person’s character. At that point, they are much less forgivable.

Plenty could be written about our experiences working with Shavs, but we’ll leave that to the individuals who wish to speak up. All we will say is that many people here and elsewhere were drastically hurt by Shav’s complete lack of consideration, empathy, and regard for the wellbeing of others. When push came to shove, Shavs looked out only for herself. Our artists felt abused and our writers felt ignored. Our leads were put in extremely compromising positions where, unless proven otherwise, they were assumed to be part of the problem by the team, even if they were trying harder than anyone to be a part of the solution. Everyone was hurt and saddened to various degrees, depending on the amount of involvement and emotional investment they had in the project and with Shavs as a friend. They were very rough times and this project was almost lost because of it.

This is not a hit piece or a bandwagon to jump on for others to “cancel the new villain on the block.” This is both a call to action for Shavs and an attempt to raise awareness to anyone who may find themselves working with or connecting with her. After abusing and hurting many of us deeply, she thankfully mutually agreed to leave AVTP because she was worried that the failures of AVTP would tarnish SMP’s “good” reputation…but SMP is something more than AVTP is and needs to be handled with even more care. SMP is a paid project. People rely on SMP for their financial well-being. Dott left her job and education for SMP. Artists are inspired to grow alongside SMP and hope to flourish with the budding studio Shavs pitches SMP to be, with her “connections to Netflix” and whatnot. When most/all of that turns out to be untrue and the cracks begin to show beneath the surface of all that hype and excitement she brings…it’s heartbreaking. Livelihoods are at risk. Creative futures have to be replanned. SMP is so much more than just Shavs and her “replaceable” assistants. Hopefully Shavs can come to realize that before anyone else has to go through what Dott and some of us went through.

SMP is going through some rough times right now at the hands of its producer, but what they have there is something truly special - a beautiful collection of artists, writers, editors, musicians, and actors who are passionate about their craft and the characters they bring to life. We don’t wish for their failure. They deserve for SMP to succeed and provide them what they were promised. We hope that SMP can provide that for them someday. As Shavs has been told many times behind closed doors in AVTP v1…this is not HER project…this is THE ENTIRE TEAM’S project, and she needs to treat it accordingly if she wishes to have a loyal, passionate, consistent, and reliable team. While part of her job is to fund, write, and edit; her most important job as producer is to manage the experiences and enjoyment of her team members. She is not the most important member of her team. She is not SMP. She is just as “replaceable” as anyone else on the team is. Anyone and everyone there can (and often does) leave to greener pastures any time they wish. The solution to this problem is not to just scout out more artists who have never worked on projects before and thus do not know to look out for these issues. We hope she can learn that someday and adjust accordingly.

As for anyone else working with and relying on her…please be aware and protect yourself. Hold her accountable. Do not take placating phrases at face value. Go through contracts with a fine toothed comb and remove any room for loopholes or misunderstandings no matter how “common sense” they may seem. Maintain your boundaries. These are good practices in general, but please don’t be lulled into putting your guard down no matter how friendly or engaging it may feel.

Thankfully, despite all odds, AVTP v2 is alive and well again. We have a healthy mix of AVTP v1 members and excited new members, ready to make something amazing together. It took years of pain and struggle to rebuild, replan, mend bridges, and get to the point where this project can be enjoyable again. Thanks to the incredible resilience and passion of our artists, writers, and voice actors; we’re able to give this another shot. Our new workflow prioritizes organization, transparency, and team member enjoyment - all things that were previously lacking. Our goal is to help provide what our team members wish to achieve here; whether it’s a growing portfolio, exposure to bigger studios, or just making friends and celebrating successes together. All profits from this project are transparently reported on our team discord server for all team members to see and will be allocated to the charities of the team’s collective choosing. As much as we would love to pay our members, it simply isn’t possible with a fan project using existing IP’s like Invader Zim…but hey, if AVTP works out well, who’s to say we can’t move on to something original someday? That sure would be neat. We have ideas. Until then, perhaps we can benefit the world a little bit.

Fortunately, since the reboot began roughly a year ago, AVTP v2 had and has already taken every step possible to correct mistakes from our past experiences with SMP. Every bit of advice and accountability we previously presented to Shavs on AVTP v1 has been the basis of our vision for AVTP v2. A vision that is currently being carried out. We understand that there has been trauma attached to the name of AVTP, and we also understand that we are new to this, thus we will make other mistakes in the future…but we want to be held accountable for those mistakes and make any changes necessary to ensure the happiness of our team. With a happy team, our viewers can also expect much more inspired content as well. We understand that a few remain suspicious due to past events and lack of knowledge or proof about how everything went down on AVTP v1…and honestly, that’s good! That is exactly the kind of accountability we need! We expect that in due time; testimony from our incredible artists, writers, actors, etc about their time on AVTP v2 will put those concerns to rest. Things will finally be as they were always meant to be.

………

Thank you for listening 👽 Now, prepare for invasion, filthy Urthens. See you very soon.

[november-babey]

it's all about queer love and queer joy!!

[eddiesxangel]

Fool Me Once | Eddie Munson x Reader

Anonymous Asked: Eddie being your first everything and first boyfriend and reader is like kinda awkward or something. Then Eddie gets really drunk and gets home to reader and starts yelling at her saying like “You’re only dating me because you don’t want to be a sad loser virgin.” and she gets really sad because she genuinely loves him so much and she starts thinking that he doesn’t love her at all… Then maybe the day after he can’t find reader anywhere and maybe she’s like with robin just crying her eyes out.

AN: IDK IDK it’s my first angsty thing I’ve done hope it’s ok 🫣

Cw: angst, hurt no comfort. Small bitty smut. Use of pet names, one use of reference to reader as “my girl”

“I love you, god, I love you” Eddie slowly pumped his swollen cock in and out of you.

You’ve never felt this wave of pleasure before; no wonder everyone was so hyped about sex.

“Fuck you’re so tight.”

“Baby, please.” You didn’t know what you were asking for, but the feeling in your lower stomach was starting to build more and more and more until! Euphoria. Euphoria fuelled your body. The wave of pleasure that Eddie just granted you felt indebted to him.

“I love you,” you sigh as your body melts into your boyfriend.

You’ve been with him for almost six months and finally felt ready to give himself to him. You hadn’t slept with anyone until now, and you were so happy you waited. You never felt so close, so in love, so unbelievably happy in this moment. Life was amazing; nothing could ever break this feeling you have.

Ring ring ring

You were abruptly awakened by the sound of your phone ringing. You were fast asleep, and now feeling disoriented, you looked at the clock. It was already 3:38am. You wondered who could be calling you at this late hour. Maybe it was an emergency? Your heart racing, you rushed over to the phone in a state of panic.

"Hello?"

"You little slut"

"Eddie?"

"Who else would it be? Are you expecting a booty call? another guy you want to fuck?"

"I don't understand? What's wrong."

“What's wrong? I'll tell ya what's wrong! You’re only with me, so you’re not some loser virgin, that’s what! Do you think all the guys will want you to know that your cherry is popped? Well, guess what, honey? Now you're just a sad little whore.” He slurred.

“Wha-“

“You think you’re hot shit now? Getting with the freak of Hawkins? Gonna brag about how you fucked the freak?”

“Eddie, what are you talking about?” your voice wobbled.

He was obviously drunk out of his mind, but as they all say, drunk words are a sober man’s thoughts.

“I know how this is going to go… well, not if I beat you to it.”

“I don't understand?”

“I don't understand?” He mocked you in a high-pitched voice. “I’ll tell you what I’m talking about!” He yelled, and you cowered. He didn’t care. His voice got louder and louder. “You were a sad loooooser virgin before me! And now you’re just a sad loser who fucked the freak,” he laughed. He actually laughed.

"Eddie-"

“So we are don-”

You hung up the phone before he could finish his sentence.

You couldn't believe this was happening? You gave Eddie everything. You thought he was your everything up until this point. You slept with Eddie for the first time a week ago. Things were good, great, even. Until he went to the hideout tonight without you.

You stayed up the rest of the night because you were in tears about what Eddie said. None of this makes any sense? You always loved Eddie, and you thought he loved you back? How could he be so cruel?

You were woken up from your daze by a knock on your apartment door. You stumbled out of your room, still in your sleep shirt, with puffy eyes from crying all night. Robin was here to pick you up for work.

"Good Mor-" Her smile dropped along with the cup of coffee she was handing you as she saw your appearance. "Oh my god! What happened?" she rushed inside to wrap her arms around you.

"Eddie. He-" You could hardly get the words out. You just crumpled into a ball on the floor and sobbed pathetically in front of Robin.

"I'm going to kill that son of a bitch" She let you cry into her on the floor. "Come on, you need to get out of here. Get changed. We are calling in sick, and we can return to my place."

Eddie woke up the morning after with a terrible hangover. It was already 12:35pm, and he couldn't remember how he got home. He suddenly felt an intense wave of nausea, which prompted him to hurry to the bathroom, where he vomited uncontrollably.

After the fifth shot, things in his memory become a little hazy. He was pretty hammered by then, but he still kept drinking with the boys. He vaguely remembered Jason being at the bar and making some leud comment about you, but other than that. Nothing.

He stumbled over to his answering machine to find it empty. That's weird? You always call him before your shift, and at least try to catch him on your lunch break. Today was Wednesday, right? You always work the morning shifts today.

Eddie tried calling your number, but he had no luck, so he tried calling your work, and when they said you called in sick, he got worried. So he tried your number again, and it still went to voice mail. Maybe you were sleeping? He tried calling back to see if Robin might know more. But when your annoyed coworker picked up the phone to tell him Robin also called in sick, he knew something was up.

Eddie rushed to his phone book to find Robin's number and called it. he waited for four rings until...

"Hello?"

"Hey! Rob it's Eddie, have you-"

"We are not speaking to you."

"We? Who's we?"

But it was too late. All he heard was the sound of the dial tone.

He tried again, no answer this time. He tried once more before getting pissed and decided to just go over to her place because what the fuck?

When Eddie got to Robin's, he pounded on the door like the pounding going on in his head.

"Robin! Open the door, please."

The door finally swung open to a very angry-looking Robin standing before him.

"Who the fuck do you think you are, Munson?!" She stepped outside and closed the door behind her so he couldn't come in.

"Robin, I'm extremely hungover and do not have the patience for your riddles. Do you know where my girl is or not? I'm worried sick."

"Oh, you can relax now since she is not your girl anymore, buddy." she poked his chest roughly. "you made that abundantly clear last night.

"Last night? I don't remember a thing from last night!"

"Well, think harder because she has been in there sobbing her eyes out from your little phone call."

"Phone call? What pho-" Then it all came rushing back to Eddie. It hit him like a Mack Truck.

"Yo Munson, where is that little whore of yours? Is she usually dangling off your arm like your little pet?" Jason snorted. "I bet she's off sucking another guy's cock; realized what a loser you are."

Jason didn't say much more to antagonize Eddie and get in his head, especially with the amount of alcohol he had consumed.

How could he be so stupid?

"Robin, oh my god, I fucked up. I fucked up big. Let me apologize."

"No. not now." She's a mess, as you can imagine-"

Robin was interrupted by the creek of the front door opening.

There you stood, looking as small as ever. Your eyes are still puffy, and your hair is a mess in your pyjamas at 1:30 in the afternoon.

"Baby, I-"

"Don't!" you cut him off, and Robin leaves to give you two spaces. "Don't you dare come here and think you can just take back what you said to me!" You had done a lot of crying; your anger was showing through.

"You don't understand, Jason was-"

"Jason?! What the fuck does Jason have to do with this? You hurt me, Eddie! I gave you everything! And then you throw it back in my face, accusing me of sleeping around? Are you insane? I've been in love with you for the last year and give myself to you, and you just throw that all away because of Jason Fucking Carver?"

"Baby, please, I'm so sorry; I'll do anything!"

"You've done enough." You turn and slam the door. That's it. You were done. Your heart felt so heavy… like it was just smashed into a million pieces. You were so close to caving when you saw the look of sorrow in those puppy dog eyes. But he had hurt you so bad you couldn’t believe he felt an ounce of pain he had inflicted upon you.

You and Eddie were officially done.

You have been radio silent. You were held up in your room, and you refused to do anything other than go to work.

Eddie called you excessively. It was every day, multiple times a day. His messages made your heartache as you played them back. You could hear in his voice how broken he was. He had fucked up so bad you didn’t know if you should give him another chance. For two weeks, you refused to answer your phone. You were so sick of it ringing you eventually took it off the line.

Eddie did everything he could think of to try and win you back. He sent you flowers to your work every single shift. He called, wrote love letters, and just needed you to speak to him. He was a desperate mess without you. Eddie’s heart, like not, was ripped into shreds, and it was all his fault.

You’ve been in his life since high school since he met you in hellfire freshman year. Then, once you finally confessed your feelings for one another, he couldn’t believe his luck. You said you wanted to be with him, that you wanted him to be the only one you give yourself to. He never thought that he would be so lucky... And here he was, shooting himself in the foot. He even tried to go to your apartment a few times. But you would never answer the door. He would leave a note each time he showed up unannounced. It would say how sorry he was and how much he loved you, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to believe him.

The slurred words repeatedly played in your head, and you couldn’t make it stop. No matter how much he apologized, nothing he could say could make you forget. Your chest felt like it had a fifty-pound weight sitting right on your heart. Your eyes were permanently swollen from the continuous crying you couldn’t seem to stop. He had stolen your heart and then stomped on it until it seized to beat.

The first month after the breakup was rough, but avoiding Eddie seemed to be easy enough. He eventually got the message by month two and stopped trying altogether.

As time went on, you slowly started to heal. Eventually, your constant thoughts about Eddie subsided. Eventually, they stopped. You never thought you would get over the hurt, but the distance helped. You were getting on your merry way by month three. Finally, feeling like yourself again, eating regularly, sleeping regularly. You hadn’t heard or seen him, and you were finally freed from the prison sentence that was Eddie Munson.

Time spent with your friends and family was exactly what you needed. Even though Robin saw Eddie regularly, she never forgave him for what he did to you. Their friendship was strained, which strained his friendship with Steve as well as Nancy. They wanted to take his side, but once they heard what he had said to you, they couldn’t simply look the other way. So you would hang out with them when Eddie wasn’t there and vice versa. They made sure you never had to encounter one another for the time being. However, it was getting more and more difficult to have two separate schedules to appease you both.

You were to go to Steve’s for dinner with everyone, pizza and movie night. When you arrived, everyone was tense. Lines got crossed, miscommunication ensued, and as you walked through to the kitchen, he was sitting at the kitchen table with a glass of water in his hand, almost slipping from his grip as his Bambi eyes widened at the sight of you.

“Oh shit!” You hear Steve curse when he realizes the mistake that has been made.

“I’m going to go.” You turn and sprint to the door.

“Not wait!l You can hear Eddie shuffle off the chair behind you, but you refuse to look back.

“Please! Wait!”

Threatening tears sting your eyes, and you rush out the front door.

“Sweetheart, wait.” You feel his hand hook your elbow as your body is jerked in the opposite direction in which you’re running.

“What!” You yell, but then you see his eyes. You really look at him for the first time in three months. He had bags under his eyes, and the dark circles extenuated the deep chocolate of his eyes.

“I-I uh,” he lets out a deep breath, “I wanted to say I’m sorry I’m so sorry. I was so god damn stupid, so so stupid, the dumbest guy on the planet. I can’t believe I fucked this up so badly; I love you. I love you so much. I can’t do this anymore without you, baby. Please.” He was on his knees, begging, literally on his knees, grovelling.

“Eddie, get up.”

“No, I don’t deserve it.” He was so pathetic, but he didn’t care. “I love you, please, just please. I need you in my life.”

“I don’t know Eddie…”

“So that’s not a no?!” He popped up like an excited little bunny, the silver oh hope he needed to get by.

“Eddie…” you sigh.

“No, no, you said maybe! You don’t know. You haven’t decided. Please, baby, I love you.”

“This is too hard.” Your lip wobbles as you try walking away again, but he interlocks your hand with his.

“Please, can I at least just hold you?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You let your hand slip from his grip, and he unwillingly let go.

Eddie felt you slipping through his fingers, literally. The hope he had moments ago was gone.

“I’m sorry”

“So am I…” without another look back, you walked away.

[wileys-russo]

stanway x reader where r is basically the back up cdm for england, only really plays that last few minutes of games if any so when keira gets injured at the wc, r freaks out because they have to go on and then play after until keira is back. maybe have georgia trying to comfort and hype up r before and then in one of the games where r plays the full 90, r makes like a big game saving tackle and georgia is super proud and happy for r after (you’re like carrying the woso fics on this app rn so thank you!)

crucial touch II g.stanway

"babe i'll be lucky to even see the pitch this tournament, i'm the back ups backup and i know that. i knew it when i accepted the call up!" you smiled at your girlfriend who frowned back at you from where she stood at the end of your bed.

"but i'm just sayin maybe if ya just talk to sarina and make your case you could get a start!" georgia pushed, knocking your legs apart and crawling up the bed to sit herself between them looking down at you.

"are you telling me to go behind your best mates back to try and get a start over her? harsh." you whistled teasingly, panic flashing across your girlfriends face as she stammered out that wasn't what she meant.

"gee! baby relax, i'm only teasing." you laughed, sitting up and grabbing her hands to still her.

"i love you and i appreciate you going to bat for me but i promise i am just happy to be here. would minutes under the belt be amazing? of course. but is being in australia, training with the squad and being with some of my best friends and girlfriend every day also amazing? yes!" you squeezed her hands with a smile of assurance, frown still dented into her features.

"but you've had such a great season and moved to the european league baby and-" "no more buts, i'm not going out of my way to plead for minutes with sarina. i trust that she always knows whats best for the team, that was well proven in the euros and i felt so much pride even just watching from the stands." you'd torn your hamstring mid last season which had unfortunately meant you weren't fit for squad selection, but despite how hard it was at times to watch your friends and wish you were in their position you learnt a whole new set of valuable lessons.

"babe i promise i am okay." you continued when once again your girlfriend opened her mouth to argue, finally giving in with a sigh and a nod.

"georgia!" you laughed as she pushed you back down onto the bed and flopped her body on top of you. "m'tired baby, lets cuddle and have a nap." the girl patted your head as her own settled on your stomach and your hands threaded her hair tugging it out of the bun it once was.

"what happened to going to watch the sunset before dinner?" "well, it rises and sets every day doesn't it? i'll take ya tomorrow."

~

"did she just say its her knee?" you whispered to lotte who was sat beside you, eyes flashing with the same fear you knew was conveyed in your own as she nodded. "shit." you mumbled, biting your lip nervously as the medics rushed on toward keira.

your leg bounced anxiously as they called for a stretcher, your stomach falling as sarina gestured for laura to start warming up as one of the coaching staff hurried over to run her through the plays.

all of you on the bench sent smiles to keira as she was stretchered off and disappeared down the tunnel, the sub made official as laura ran on and everyone tried to shake off what happened.

"they could have given us a small break of time to reset, they're clearly shook up." you mumbled to lotte who hummed in agreement, both of you watching on with limbs locked tight in stress.

thankfully the girls scraped by taking the 1-0 win against denmark and you didn't think you'd ever held your breath as long as until that final whistle blew ending injury time and the game.

you walked in between ella and georgia as you did your lap, thanking the fans, but you could tell that despite the smiles on everyones faces nobody was thinking about the win and rather worrying for how keira was.

and in particular if the team would see yet another victim to that dreaded three letter curse.

~

despite keira thankfully not having done her acl, she was under forced rest and a careful rehab program, and wouldn't be playing in the next game against china.

knowing that your teammate was okay had eased the mounting tension within the team and after a bonding day at the local zoo everyone was in high spirits.

which was likely what lead to the following 6-1 domination over china a few days later, everyone in even better spirits that night which was filled with karaoke, dancing and cheese boards much to lottes delight.

things took a more serious turn two days later at training when laura took a rather abrupt tackle from millie and headbutted the goal post, winding up with a concussion and with keira still not cleared to play that was how you found yourself sat across from sarina in one of the hotel meeting rooms.

she informed you'd not only be getting your first minutes of the tournament but would be in the starting eleven in tomorrow nights game. you had to ask her how to repeat herself making the dutch woman laugh and congratulate you, making a point to say she'd noticed that despite not playing you had still played a very crucial role within the team lifting morale.

still slightly in disbelief and pinching yourself with a sharp hiss you exited the room, making a beeline right towards your girlfriend who was mid darts game with niamh, ella and lucy.

with a wordless shake of your head you grabbed her hand, ignoring all of her questions and your friends teasing remarks behind you as you dragged her away from the game, staying silent right until the two of you were back in your room.

"baby whats goin on? you're bein very weird has somethin happened?" georgia asked for the tenth time, taking a seat on the edge of your bed as you shook your head and paced back and forth.

"oi, sit down and speak to me love ya gonna wear a hole in the carpet." georgia grabbed your hoodie and pulled you to stand between her legs, hands on the small of your back holding you there.

"i'm starting tomorrow." you blurted out with wide eyes, georgias own bugging nearly out of her head as her grip on you tightened. "you what!" she gasped out as you nodded firmly. "yeah, coombsy's still not cleared and neither is kei." you shook your head in disbelief.

"baby! you're starting in the fuckin world cup!" the breath was stolen from you as your girlfriend lovingly slammed you down onto the bed and jumped on top of you, kissing all over your face and mumbling how proud she was as you couldn't help but grin.

"wait!" you pushed her off and sat bolt upright. "what if i get injured? or i let in a goal? or i cause a penalty? or-" all of the worse case scenarios flew through your head, slamming around and around like a pinball machine.

"hey hey, stop that." georgia frowned, grabbing your face in her hands and forcing you to look at her. "you won't. you are so so brilliant, and hardworking, and passionate. it doesn't matter if this is your first start in a world cup or another match for bayern love, you tackle it the exact same way you enter any game. with your whole heart and ya head screwed on right!" georgia gently squeezed your cheeks and placed a tender kiss against your lips as you exhaled and collapsed into her.

"i'm starting tomorrow." "you're starting tomorrow, and you are gonna smash it baby."

~

the day of the match itself you were still a nervous wreck. word had spread of your start and in small groups all of the girls came over to congratulate and hype you up.

and as much as you appreciated each and every single one of them all of their hope and praise was just adding onto your existing nerves, which your girlfriend seemed to pick up on as she gently shooed everyone away, tucking you into her side at breakfast and changing the subject.

she made sure to sit beside you on the bus and walked you around the stadium for the pitch check with your fingers interlocked tightly with hers, swinging your hands together and distracting you with kisses when she noticed your mind start to wander.

right before warm ups your phone rang and you lit up seeing it was leah, you'd played with her for years at arsenal before taking the plunge to germany when both frankfurt and bayern came knocking.

so stepping out of the room the blonde gave you a stern talking to about believing in yourself and making the most of the opportunity the situation had presented you no matter how it came about.

and with that in mind you reset your headspace and tuned in, georgia sending leah a quick text thanking her as whatever was said worked as you now seemed your confident self when walking out for the line up.

unlike last match against china the game against nigeria was anything but easy. they were a fast and agile side and came out aggressive, so you did your best as a team to meet them like that but after a brutal 90 minutes it was still deadlocked at 0-0.

mary had been putting in a shift, everyone had, and with lj earning a red card you were down to 10 when they announced there would be extra time as a break was called and everyone huddled together on the sidelines.

sarinas words ringing in your ears you sucked up how much your body ached and readied yourself to go again, vowing to leave absolutely everything on the pitch as if it was the last game you ever played.

your chance came in the 118th minute as you missed a crucial tackle and one of the strikers snuck past you. you knew from watching her throughout the game where she'd likely shoot from so you diverted tactics.

you knew it was a risk but you had to trust your gut like always and sprinting down the length of the field on the opposite side your legs burned and ached but you just used that to spur yourself on.

sure enough it was a risk that paid off as the striker slotted the ball past mary who watched in horror as it slipped beneath her thigh and she crashed to the ground.

but you were there without even a millisecond to spare, the ball clipping the edge of your studs as you slid your body across goal and tapped it out earning them a corner but preventing the winning goal.

you only breathed once the referee signaled for nigeria to take their corner, your head slumping against the ground as you took a moment to reset and marys gloved hands hauled you up off the ground.

"you are a fucking superstar for that one mate." she grabbed your face and kissed your forehead with a loud mwah, brushing the grass off of you as you grinned and everyone set in for the corner which would be the last play of extra time.

your hands falling to lucy's waist you felt millies grab yours from behind, a defensive tactic which was yet to fail you as once again a goal was prevented with mary jumping to tap it over the top of the goal as the whistle blew yet again signalling the game would go to penalties.

you watched with baited breath, squished in between beth and millie as each kick was taken. you winced as your girlfriend missed, watching her face fall but sending her a reassuring nod and mouthing that you loved her.

beth, rach and chloe were next all sinking their kicks as chloes hit the back of the net with record speed and the stadium erupted into cheers, you'd done it and you lived to see another day, you'd won.

you raced right over to your girlfriend amid the celebrations who had the same idea, jumping onto her and wrapping your legs round her waist, both of you forgetting you'd just played over 120 minutes as her legs buckled and the two of you crashed to the ground.

"i am so so so fucking proud of ya!" georgia beamed, pressing her forehead against yours as you lay on the grass tangled up with one another. you were well aware of your surroundings but in her arms and by her side everything else slipped away, the two of you lost in one anothers eyes which shone with pride.

"can i kiss you?"

your girlfriend seemed taken aback by the question and your eyes widening you went to stand but your body locked up in surprise as her hand balled your jersey and tugged your lips to meet hers, neither one of you caring for a single moment what anyone thought.

in that triumphant moment all you had eyes for was each another.

[totaly-obsessed]

Chaos and dressing rooms

Alessia Russo x reader fic

-> Chaotic reader doesn't know how to do her hair, Alessia helps her out

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

The Arsenal dressing room was always a vibe, even if it was just for practice sessions. Usually, Leah Williamson would be blasting music, but with her being out with a torn ACL, Katie and Steph took over, making for a wild mix.

This would be your second season at the club and even with the new additions, you were one of the younger ones, forever in awe watching the likes of Kim Little and Beth Mead play. But you fit in well, making fast friends with Lotte and Laura who always laughed at your half jokes-half stupidity. In the beginning, Katie tried to recruit you for her pranks, but in the end, it was Jen who would take on the role of your ‘mentor’ for getting around and meeting people.

Now in your second season, four new girls were joining the team – Laia, Amanda, Cloe, and of course Alessia. Meeting them was easy enough, especially the English striker, as you had played her last season – but the other girls were nice as well. You not having competed in the World Cup, as you hadn’t managed the jump up to the senior Lionesses just yet, made it easier to meet Laia, who was joking with you as well as she could with her limited English.

Your dressing room cubby was situated between Steph and Beth who constantly were teasing you for taking forever to get ready – always the last one out on the pitch. Nobody thought anything of it, the girls just thought that you liked to take your time, or that you weren’t organized well enough, and while that was true, the real reason was you struggled to do your hair.

Every single day it was a battle – buns were insecure and fell out easily, tight pony-tails gave you a headache and the swishing hairs annoyed you to no end. Not being able to braid your own hair was incredibly annoying.

It's not like you didn’t try.

You did.

Every single practice session and game, at home before going out, and just when you were bored – nothing worked. After a while your arms started to hurt and tears threatened to fall due to frustration. That’s why you were the last one out, giving your hair just one last attempt before giving up and throwing it in a nice and easy low bun.

And today was no different. It was the third training session since the girls got back from the World Cup, and the new players joined them. Everyone was hyping themselves and each other up before they left the room.

“Has anyone seen my Jersey?”

Jen rolled her eyes, “In the bathroom.” With quick steps you retrieved your jersey, no clue how it got there.

On the way back you tripped over Laia’s shoes – the Spaniard barely catching your arms and keeping you from hitting the ground.

“Where are my shorts?”

“In my bag, you left them yesterday, I washed them.” Katie threw them to you, your forgetfulness and clumsiness highly amusing her.

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

Slowly everyone left but you. When you didn’t see anybody you tried again, desperately trying to braid your hair in front of the quite high mirror.

“Why isn’t this shit working?” With a loud clattering, your brush fell to the floor.

“God damn it! Why can’t I do this? Why am I so stupid?” Alessia, who was still in the bathroom listened with a little smirk on her face until she heard your voice wavering. You were always so fun to be around, so hearing you this frustrated with yourself and being so mean to yourself was new and terrifying for the striker.

“Fuck this.” You had given up, resulting in a low bun. Alessia heard you throw your brush into some corner, frustration getting the better of you.

Not wanting you to be embarrassed, she waited until she was sure you were gone before entering the changing room. The brush she picked up was littered with cute little stickers, and covered in hair - obviously yours.

The tall blonde could just imagine you roughly brushing your hair in anger, feeling sorry for your scalp.

Carefully she put it down in your cubby, and before she left Alessia collected your things that were all over the room and folded them neatly for you.

The rest of the team and training staff were already standing in a circle when Alessia joined them.

“Looks like we have a new late-commer!” Jonas was laughing at the striker, not mad at all. When Alessia's eyes met yours, she could see the realization dawn upon you – She had been there when you were so harsh to your mirror image.

During the whole training session, you were much quieter than usual, embarrassed that you had been caught – by Alessia at that. Alessia who was new, and who you admired so much.

Katie, your traings-buddy tried to get information, on why you were so strange, but you deflected, making her talk about Lauryn’s game instead. While the Irish woman obviously knew what you were doing, she was more than happy to talk about her little sister to someone genuinely interested – even if it was just to distract you.

Alessia tried to get close to you, but somehow you were always gone before she got there. At the end of training, you just packed your bag, not even changing, and stormed out the door.

You took notice of your thing being neatly folded on your cubby and you briefly glanced at the tall blonde who was already looking at you.

“She was weird today, right?” Kim, who liked to title herself as your big sister asked into the silence that you left behind.

“Yeah. Yeah, she was.”

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

The next day your chaos started all over again, and the older girls were relieved that you seemed to be back to normal again. Alessia was surprised that you even talked to her, she thought you were mad at her when you really just needed to get over your embarrassment.

After everyone else left, it was just the two of you left.

“I’m sorry that you had to witness that. Yesterday, I mean.” The striker knew what you meant and sat down next to you, one of her big hands stroking your back, trying to get you comfortable.

“Don’t worry about it.” It was silent for another second, your cheeks felt like they were on fire from blushing so hard.

“You’re not stupid.” Her hand stilled and she gently grabbed your chin, turning your face to her. Your brain just blanked, and she saw, “You were really mean to yourself yesterday – You are not stupid.”

Upon your attempt to turn your flushed face away from her, she held it more firmly. “Do you understand amore?”

A weak nod earned you a raised eyebrow. “I’m not stupid…” The blonde smirked satisfied and turned your face to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Come now, I’ll braid your hair. No need to make your scalp bleed anymore.” With gentle hands she pulled you in front of the mirror, braiding your hair with quick fingers before squeezing your shoulders when she was done.

Katie and Beth wiggled their eyebrows at the two of you when they saw Alessia enter the pitch with you at her side – your face so flushed no one could miss it.

And from that day on, Alessia did your hair in the dressing room. But it wasn’t kept a secret for long, so with her help, you managed to get ready on time. Alessia, your own little assistant, who would never complain about your jitteriness, clumsiness, or forgetfulness. An angel sent from heaven – or hell when you looked at Manchester United.

[sunshinesteviee]

mvp - s.h.

summary: you think steve deserves a prize after his baseball game for being the MVP; baseball player!steve wc: 3.9k warnings: a bit of baseball, but it's honestly not too heavy on it lol. this is mostly smut!! 18+ only, mdni!!!! car sex, but they're in the middle of nowhere, fingering, handjob, unprotected piv (pls be smart); fem!reader a/n: alright this has been in the works for fuckin forever, but it's finally done!! i hope it lives up to the hype lol. huge shoutout to @harringtonswriting for the original idea forever ago, and to @stevebabey for listening to me cry abt this for the past month and a half lol. enjoy!!!

Masterlist

huge thank you to @inkluvs for this^ cutie and to @t-lostinworlds for this gorgeous moodboard!!

It’s a surprisingly nice evening for summer in Indiana. There’s a warm breeze that kisses your cheeks and keeps you cool under the late afternoon sun. Perfect for one of Steve’s baseball games. The last few you went to were unbearably hot, so even though it’s still warm, and you’re still sweating a bit, this is much better. Not that you’re paying much attention to the weather with how close this game is. 

His team is up by two points in the top of the ninth, and there’s someone on base, but if they hold them off from scoring, they’ll win. Steve’s pitching, and you know he’s feeling a lot of pressure, especially since this is a pretty important game near the end of the season. But you also know that he’s totally got this. He’s been pitching so many strikeouts this game, and he can definitely do one more. 

He stands at the pitcher’s mound, bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he squints at his catcher. He looks fucking beautiful, quite honestly. Tan skin glowing in the golden hour sun, the sleeves of his jersey tight around his biceps. Pretty hair tucked under his hat, the eyeblack he’d carefully applied before the game smeared across his cheeks. You might just have to jump his bones when the game is over. 

Steve gets into position, presses the ball into his glove, and takes a deep breath. You stand from your seat on the rusty bleachers, metal creaking underneath you, to get a better view of the field. Someone behind you — probably Jessica, another player’s girlfriend — huffs in annoyance, but you ignore her, too caught up in Steve, and sending him all of the good luck you can. He moves into his windup position, takes another deep breath, and sends the ball over the plate in a perfect strike that the batter watches go by. 

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and whistle loudly, earning you even more dirty looks from the people sitting around you. Half of them are supporters of the other team, so you can’t blame them, but you’re not going to quiet your support for your boyfriend. You know he can hear you — his eyes flick to yours for just a moment when he hears your whistle, and his mouth pulls up at one corner almost imperceptibly. He winks at you, subtle enough to go unnoticed by everyone else, but the cockiness makes you flustered and causes you to roll your eyes at the same time. 

The rest of the inning flies by with a pop-up to right field that’s easily caught by Steve’s teammate, and another strikeout pitched by Steve — one that the batter watches go by. You’d cheered again, even louder than before, and blew him a kiss as he ran off the field. 

Now you’re waiting for him, not so patiently, on the bleachers. You usually have to wait a bit while the team debriefs, and while you don’t mind most of the time, you’re feeling antsy today. You want him in more ways than one, and you don’t know how much longer you can wait. Thankfully, due to a good game and short debrief, it’s not too long until the players start filtering off of the field. Steve is always one of the last ones out, but you stand up in search of him anyway. 

“Harrington!” you shout Steve’s name as he exits the dugout, waving a hand in the air as you bounce on the balls of your feet excitedly. 

Hearing the sound of your voice, Steve’s head whips in your direction, and the biggest smile you’ve ever seen is on his face. He gives you a wave before turning back to the teammate he’d walked out with, saying something you can’t make out as he slaps his back and then makes a beeline for you. After the game, his uniform is awry; jersey half tucked in, hat on backwards, and he’s so sweaty, but somehow, you don’t mind. His bat bag is slung over his shoulder, but it’s quickly dumped on the ground as he approaches you in favor of scooping you up into his arms, “Baby!”

You let out a shriek and throw your arms around his neck as he lifts you off of the ground. Your toes are barely an inch from the grass, but it’s enough to have you clutching onto him. He’s still sweaty, having just come off the field, but you don’t mind. “Steve! You did so good, baby!”

Steve sets you back on your feet, pressing a wet kiss to your forehead with another blinding grin, “Thanks, honey. All for you.” His hands are still looped around your waist, resting gently against the small of your back. “Heard you cheering the entire game.”

“Yeah?” you ask, returning his grin as your fingers trace along the neckline of his jersey. “Good. Matt’s girlfriend kept giving me dirty looks for cheering so loud, but I think she’s just jealous her boyfriend isn’t as hot or talented as mine. I’ve got an all-star. The MVP.”

Dark pink colors Steve’s face from his neck all the way up to the tips of his ears, even though he’s still smiling at you, “Stop it. I’m not—“

“Don’t even start!” you quickly cut him off, placing a finger against his lips, “If I remember correctly, it was you who pitched a bunch of strikeouts, and held them off in the last inning. I’m so proud of you.” 

He wants to argue, but you’re staring at him full of pride, so he gives in. His cheeks are still flushed pink as he smiles at you, pursing his lips to kiss the finger still pressed to his lips, “Thanks, baby. Love you so much. Couldn’t do it without you.”

You know that’s not true — you show up to all of his games, and sometimes you pack him extra snacks and water, but that’s about it. He’s the one who puts in all of the hard work during practice, at games, and during all of the other time he uses to improve. You are really proud of him, in every single way, and you want to let him know. Threading your fingers into the damp hair at the nape of Steve’s neck, you lean up on your toes to whisper in his ear, “I think the MVP deserves a prize. What do you think, handsome?”

Steve’s eyes grow wide, hands spreading over your hips to keep your body flush to his. He stumbles over his words when he finally speaks, “Shit, baby, I-I… yeah, okay.”

Leaning up on your toes, you give Steve a grin before pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, “Should we go?”

“Oh, definitely,” Steve nods quickly, leaning into you for a kiss. He kisses you with just enough force that you bend at the waist slightly, giggling against his lips as you grasp at his shoulders. 

“Okay, okay. Don’t get ahead of yourself,” you push at him gently, though you’re grinning when he pulls back. 

He lets out a soft huff, eyes narrowing playfully at you as he grabs his bat bag and hoists it up over his shoulder again. He’s quick to start the trek back to his car, turning to face you as he walks backward with a cheeky grin on his face. His arms are held out to his sides as he calls, “You comin’ with me or what, babe?”

Not wanting him to get too far ahead, you jog to catch up to him, slipping your hand into his as your shoulders bump, “You don’t even know what the prize is, Stevie.”

Scoffing, Steve turns to you with a smug and knowing smile on his lips, “Oh, I know what it is.” Still, he’s gentle with you, giving your hand a soft squeeze and throwing a ridiculously exaggerated wink your way to make you smile. He dumps his gear into the trunk of his car, letting it close with a loud thud as he turns to you, arms caging your body against the side of his car. His breath is hot on your neck as he dips down so his lips ghost over the skin just below your ear, “The prize… it’s not actually a physical prize, right?”

You can’t help it — you let out a laugh, head tilting back as you wrap your arms around Steve’s neck to draw him in closer, “Depends on what you mean by physical…” 

“Baby,” Steve groans with a laugh, taking advantage of your exposed skin by pressing wet kisses up the side of your neck and along your jaw. You want to reply with another sarcastic remark, but your breath hitches as his teeth graze your skin. So, instead, you cup his jaw in your hands and pull his mouth to yours for a kiss. 

-

The sun is starting to smolder low in the sky, nearly sinking beneath the horizon to cast the sky in pretty oranges and pinks as Steve finally pulls out of the parking lot and heads for your shared apartment. His hand reaches over the center console to rest on your thigh, a warm, heavy weight on your bare skin. He’s already been causing trouble, with the way he’d kissed you against the car, and you have a feeling you’re not going to make it home in a timely manner. 

Music is playing on the radio, something top 40 that Steve is humming under his breath as he drives. You’re having a hard time figuring out what the song is with the way his fingertips press into the softness of your inner thigh and brush up ever so slightly. Sucking in a breath, you glance in his direction, only to find that aside from the corner of his mouth quirking up slightly, he’s keeping any indication of what he’s thinking off of his face. 

He looks so pretty in the golden light streaming in through the windows that it’s almost hard to believe he’s real. Reaching out across the gap between you, you tuck a few strands of his messy hair behind his ear and then drag the pad of your thumb across his jaw. You trace over a few of the cute moles scattered over his face and wish you could kiss each and every single one of them, but he’s a bit too far away. Letting out a dramatic sigh, you let a lock of his hair slip from your fingers back into its place. 

At the forlorn sound, Steve’s eyes flick from the road over to you as he laughs under his breath. He twists just a little bit further to press a kiss to the delicate skin on the inside of your wrist, and though he’s pretty sure he knows the answer, he asks, “What, sweetheart?”

“I think I might combust if I can’t kiss you or touch you within the next minute.” 

Steve lets out a laugh, breath hitching as your own hand drops from his hair to his thigh, “We’re like ten minutes from home, honey.” He’s trying his best to stay casual, but he’s feeling about the same as you, especially with your hand on him now. 

“Can’t wait ten minutes, baby. Want you now. Don’t you want your prize?”

“Jesus christ,” he huffs out quickly, hazarding a glance to the hand on his thigh that’s creeping upwards before scanning the road, “Alright, okay, baby, just— just let me pull over. Fuck.”

There aren’t many perks to living in the middle of nowhere Indiana, but if you have to pick one, being able to pull over pretty much anywhere you want to fuck your boyfriend in the front seat of his car is definitely up there. It takes a moment before Steve spots a secluded area and pulls off of the road, dirt and gravel crunching under the tires as he rolls to a stop. The second his car is in park, you unbuckle your seatbelt and nearly launch yourself over the center console into Steve’s lap. 

He laughs in surprise, but it’s cut off by your mouth on his, kissing him like it might be your last chance. There’s not much room in the front seat, and you huff as your knees press into the console and the door on either side of his lap, the skirt of the dress you’re wearing riding up your thighs. It’s not exactly comfortable, but you quickly become too distracted by Steve — his lips pressed to your neck in a bruising kiss, his hardening cock underneath you — to care. And the way he’s gripping your hips to pull you closer isn’t helping. 

Your hips roll forward as you press closer to him, drawing stuttering breaths from both of you. It feels like his hands are everywhere, sliding up your exposed thighs to your waist, warm even through the fabric of your dress, before traveling further up your body to cup your breasts. You’d had to forgo a bra in this dress, and Steve isn't oblivious to this fact; he’d noticed right away, and was going to take advantage of that. 

Wet kisses press to your collarbone as he dips lower, fingers sliding under the thin straps of your dress to tug them off your shoulders, “Looked so pretty in the stands today, baby. Y’always do, but this pretty little dress…” He all but groans, pulling the top of your dress down your chest. More kisses trail along your exposed flesh, the dull scrape of his teeth followed by another hickey pulls a gasp from you. 

With his mouth on you, he’s making it real hard to form a coherent sentence, “Christ, Steve— we can’t— don’t have time for—“ 

A sharp tug to the hair at the nape of his neck finally gets his attention, and he pops back up with a huff, narrowing his eyes playfully at you, “Sorry. Sorry. Not my fault you’ve got perfect tits, honey.” He squeezes your breasts as if to make a point, not quite roughly, but not gently either, thumbs brushing over your nipples. 

“Steve,” you admonish playfully with a roll of your eyes, slapping at his chest. You giggle, though, leaning forward to kiss him again. Your fingers work at the buttons on his jersey as you kiss. It’s not really a necessity, but you want to feel his warm, golden skin and the hair on his chest, kiss the moles that are littered on his torso. Your fingers trail down his chest, and you can feel it heave at your light touches, a stuttering breath as you inch closer to his pants. 

After unbuttoning his pants and pulling down the zipper, the two of you shuffle around in the front seat to get his pants and underwear down enough to free his cock. Your hand wraps around the base, a gentle touch as you stroke up his length. Precum leaks from the tip, messy on your hand as your thumb rubs over his slit. Steve hisses at the touch, hips trying to push up into your hand, “Shit, honey—“

“Feel good?” you ask, a bit smug as you twist your wrist mid-stroke. 

“So good. Need— ah— wanna touch you, too, babe. Lemme…” Steve trails off and one hand presses into the small of your back, reaching down behind you with the other one to pull the lever on the seat. The seat slides all the way back to give you more room, but it moves quickly, leaving you scrambling to hold onto Steve and his jersey. He laughs at your surprised expression, hands moving to settle on your thighs, “That’s better. More room.”

His palms slide up the lengths of your thighs, thumbs brushing against the innermost part until they slip under your flowy dress and bump into the fabric of your underwear. One finger slips just underneath the lacy trim at the edge, running back and forth lightly, “Can I?”

“Yes,” you breathe out, nodding quickly as Steve’s fingers press into the wet spot forming on your panties. “Please, baby.” 

He rubs your clit softly through your underwear once, twice, and just before you’re about to complain, his fingers hook into the fabric and tug it to the side, tracing up your slit, “Already so wet for me, huh?” 

“You– fuck– you look so hot in your uniform, baby, ‘s not my fault,” you huff, shifting your hips to try to get him right where you want him. 

Steve’s fingers dip back down, circling your entrance in a teasing touch before two ease into your cunt. He’s slow with it, almost infuriatingly so, as he spreads you open. You gasp into the crook of his neck, only just remembering that this is supposed to be about him, and resume the slow stroke of your hand on his cock. The air is filled with soft breaths as you touch each other, Steve’s breath warm against your skin, and it’s all you can hear, even though the radio is still playing quietly. 

When his fingers curl inside of you, pressing into the perfect spot, you whine, “Want you inside of me, Stevie. Need you.”

“Yeah?” he asks with a grin, bringing his fingers to his mouth to lick them clean. He hums around his fingers, pulling them from his lips with a small pop sound, “Taste so good, honey.” 

Pleasure twists low in your tummy at the sight of his fingers in his mouth, at his dirty words, and you whimper. You can’t wait much longer, so you don’t, shifting up onto your knees the best you can in the tight space without bumping into the roof of Steve’s car. One of your hands slides over Steve’s shoulder, keeping yourself steady as you slip the other hand between your bodies to line Steve up with your entrance. 

Warm hands rest at your hips, fingers splaying out wide to hold you as you sink down onto Steve’s cock slowly. You both moan softly, your thighs shaking as you lower yourself until he’s fully inside of you. There’s always an aching stretch, and it takes a moment for you to adjust, gasping into the crook of Steve’s neck, “Shit, Stevie, you– you’re so big, fuck.” 

Steve laughs, a breathless sound, hands flexing against your skin as he fights the urge to thrust his hips up, “Y’sure know how to sweet talk.” 

“Shut up,” you huff playfully, curling your fingers into the fabric of his jersey as you rock your hips forward once. Steve lets out his own strangled, gasping noise at the sudden movement and you grin, feeling smug. 

You lift yourself back up slightly, a sweet, slow drag of his cock through your tight cunt, and then rock back down, grinding into him. Steve swears under his breath, hands moving from your hips to your ass to help you fuck yourself on his cock. It takes a moment, but you settle into a rhythm with Steve’s help, circling your hips against his, back and forth, up and down. Your thighs start to burn from the effort, but it’s worth it for the dazed look Steve has on his face. 

“Christ, babe,” he mutters, squeezing your ass as he presses wet kisses across your chest, “ridin’ me like a champ. So good for me.”

You clench around him at his praise, moaning in a way that should be embarrassing, but you’re too far gone to care. Your fingers travel up from the collar of his jersey to his hair, curling into the strands at the nape of his neck under his cap, and you surge forward to kiss him. It’s messy, your lips sliding against his in an open-mouthed kiss. 

It’s so hot in the car that between the warm summer air and the warmth radiating from your bodies, the windows of the car start to fog up. If anyone were to see the car, they’d know exactly what was happening, but thankfully, there’s likely no one around for miles. Sweat beads at Steve’s hairline as he begins to thrust his hips up to meet yours, fingers pressing into the soft flesh of your ass hard enough that it might leave bruises. You falter as his hips smack yours with a filthy sound, pushing your face into Steve’s warm shoulder as you moan, “Steve, fuck— ’m close— oh god, I need—”

“I got you, baby,” he mumbles into your skin, his breath fanning across your shoulder, making you shiver. One strong arm hooks around your waist while his other hand finds its way between your bodies, rubbing your clit in time with the thrust of his hips. He’s babbling, praises for you spilling from his pretty, pink lips, “Look so pretty on my cock, baby, takin’ me so well, yeah? Fuck, I love you so much, you’re perfect. So fuckin’ tight for me, y’close, huh? Gonna cum for me?” 

You can feel the way he twitches as you clench around his cock, your thighs tight against his hips, entire body tensing as pleasure washes over you. Your chest pushes into his as you tip over the edge, slick skin against slick skin, “Oh god, fuckfuckfuck.” 

The thrust of Steve’s hips up into yours grows sloppy, but he doesn’t let up, thumb swiping over your clit as you ride out your high. He’s not far behind you, groaning your name into the crook of your neck as he cums hard. You have enough of a mind to continue to rock your hips against his until he’s spent, breathing hard. 

His hand on your back pushes under your sundress, stroking up the curve of your spine gently, a soft and intimate touch. It’s silent as you both try to catch your breath, trading soft kisses on damp skin and parted lips. 

You speak first, a small laugh as you push your sticky chest off of Steve’s, “Holy shit, it’s hot in here.”

“Yeah it is,” he says with a cheeky grin, giving your ass a rough squeeze as his gaze dips down to your breasts. He leans forward, pressing another soft kiss to the swell of your breast, just above the nipple, making you shiver. He all but giggles at your reaction and leans back into his seat, with a heaving breath, “Fuck, it is hot, though. Lemme open the windows.” 

Reaching over with one hand, Steve opens the driver-side window, letting in the cool evening air. It feels nice on your warm skin, and you close your eyes, turning your face into the breeze. You can feel his eyes on you, and when you look back at him, he’s still staring at you, eyes a soft honey color in the last of the sunlight. 

“I love you,” you say, quietly, almost shy. 

“I love you, more, honey,” he replies easily, a grin breaking out on his face.

You kiss him one last time before pushing up off of his lap, wincing as he slips out of you. Shuffling backwards, you pull your underwear back into place, and tug the top of your dress back up your chest, adjusting the straps. Steve helps you back over the console into the passenger seat before fixing his own clothes. You’re still flushed, so you quickly roll your own window down and stick your arm out. Your fingers flutter in the breeze as Steve pulls back into the main road, turning the volume of the radio up. 

Steve’s hand reaches out towards you, settling on your thigh once again, though maybe a bit more innocently this time. You rest your hand over his, your fingers curling between his as you tease, “Hope you enjoyed your prize, MVP.”

He laughs, head tipping back against his seat, hand squeezing your thigh gently, “Shit, babe, after that, I think you deserve the MVP title.” 

-

a few other tags hehe

@underoossss @sattlersquarry

[jellysxtarr]

If I may make one more Welcome Home request. Y/n and the puppets doing karaoke! Plz and thank u!

Ofc ofc! Feel free to request whenever you like!

Might start singing ! | Karaoke with the neighbors

ᜊ. Karaoke with none other than your favorite neighbors is rather exciting and enjoyable! Taking turns with who is singing while cheering them on or having a duet with either of them!

ᜊ. The neighbors wouldn't mind if you were bad at singing, since all of you were out to have fun! Even Wally is rather bad at singing, so both of you could cheer each other on when it comes to either of you singing! (And possibly giving Wally assistance with the song too).

ᜊ. Frank and Julie would have the most fun when it comes to singing, with Julie mostly doing small dances when singing and hyping someone up when it's their turn, it's best to say Julie is the number one fan of everyone!

ᜊ. Sally was more dramatic and was doing it over the top when it was her turn, she felt like a star and shined like one! And she absolutely had to show it to everyone that she truly is one, too!

ᜊ. Eddie was mostly attempting to sing a long the lyrics while having fun, if it were a more faster song Eddie would be stuttering a bit over the place when he couldn't finish singing the previous line, and afterwards immediately missing a line since he forgot where he was.

ᜊ. Barnaby had the most fun, he was mostly joking around when it was his turn, changing the pitch of his voice to either something deep or high while not taking it seriously one bit, which is what made it fun for him!

ᜊ. Howdy who mostly hummed a tune or two occasionally was pretty average when it came to singing. Not being the best at it, but certainly not the worst either. He'd tap one of his foots to follow the rhythm and to keep up with the tact. Howdy did enjoy singing along, but he definitely would continue sticking to humming.

ᜊ. Poppy was mostly sitting and cheering all of you on quietly, being the one who was more anxious and nervous to sing along with either of you, all she could do was cheer you all on! In her own way, she did have fun! (And just maybe, you could convince her to sing a long!)

ᜊ. It was a enjoyable time! Laughing with them all and having a fun time, having a duet with whoever you wish to have one with and later on going back to the neighborhood while talking about how you should do it again when the time comes!

ᜊ. Bidding goodbye to all of them for today and wishing them a nice rest, you returned to a house you call yours, with a warm morning soon to meet you, you went to bed and slept till the morning sun came back up. Starting a new and fun day for you and your neighbors once again.

TAGS: @robotoast03

[genericpuff]

Rachel did a live Q&A in the LO Discord server and gave some news about the Animated Series, it’s still happening! (Surprisingly) Any thoughts on that or things you’d like to see from it?

Right, like every other time she's said it's "still happening" with no evidence to actually support it. That's always been the issue and still is.

Sorry, that's not me being snarky at you, I'm more so frustrated and absolutely fucking done with all the empty promises and platitudes.

Best case scenario with what was said during the Q&A was that she said "it's still happening" (worst case was that she didn't address it at all).

Like, how is this:

"I can say that… we are currently doing work on it… and it is going well.. and that it looks really cool and that I wish everyone could see what we’ve done because it looks really really really cool, and it’s happening, but that’s all I can say at this point… I can say, making tv shows takes a really long time, it takes so long" (last night's Q&A)

Any different than this:

Any different than this:

“Um, it’s been really interesting. It’s been educational for me. So, what I—what has been done so far is beautiful. Like, if I could share it, I would. But I can’t. Because it’s very naughty.” - Girl Wonder SDCC (July 2023)

She's been saying this for the last two years since people started getting suspicious it wasn't happening in the first place, and despite all the reassurances that "it's still happening", it doesn't seem to have anything to show for itself. Cast list? Nope. Director? Nope. Writers? Nah. Just a showrunner whose bio still says "TBA" and who, despite having a whole ass 40 minute long interview with Girl Wonder, still didn't have anything to show for what's to come, just more empty promises that it's "still happening" (and a lot of banter about Stephanie's life, rather than her involvement with LO).

In fact, most of what Stephanie talks about in the podcast concerning LO is pitching it, not developing it. And this interview happened just a few months ago. Go listen to it yourself if you don't believe me.

So at this point, I see "it's still happening" as "don't panic" corporate speak for "we're still pitching it and trying to find a network for it so we can actually move onto development." Yes, animation takes a long time, even Hazbin Hotel took about three and a half years to finally release after Prime bought the rights to it in 2020. But LO, again, clearly hasn't even started the animation process yet. And while we're comparing it to Hazbin, note that HH actually had LOADS to show for itself along the way of being developed and did a much, MUCH better job at staying relevant and pulling in new people and hyping it up. Even people who never watched Hazbin before in its indie days on Youtube were hearing about it, it made an active effort to sell itself to new viewers and break out of its bubble on Youtube. Is LO doing that? No, not really. Most of the people who know about it are diehard fans who refuse to read anything that isn't shown directly to them on Webtoons, and diehard haters who are tired of the garbage that gets advertised on Webtoons. Ask anyone who doesn't use Webtoons, and best case, they'll know someone who reads LO, worst case, they won't even know what a webtoon is.

Shit, even the new upcoming Zelda movie has names attached to it, including Avi Arad, Wes Ball, and Derek Connolly. And my god, it's gonna SUCK DICK with that bad of a line-up (the guy who ruined the OG Spiderman trilogy and created Morbius, the guy who directed the Maze Runner films, and one of the leading storywriters behind Rise of Skywalker, fucking YIKES) but hey, at least it has more than one name attached to it.

But okay, if we're gonna play the comparison game, let's be fair and compare LO to some other works in its own lane. Let's Play announced last year that it would be getting an animated adaption, and it already has a studio backing it that is FAR more suited for it than JHC is to LO - OLM, the same studio whose animated for massive franchises like Pokemon, Yo-Kai, and Gudetama. JHC meanwhile has animated... motion capture kid shows like Word Party. Because that's the only kind of animation they actually specialize in when it comes to their in-house services. Sure, they also have Harriet the Spy, but that wasn't animated by them, that was animated by Titmouse Inc (heh sorry).

I'm the Grim Reaper recently had its own animated adaption announced, and who's in charge of it? Oh, only SAM FUCKING RAIMI-

And look, maybe the Let's Play and I'm the Grim Reaper adaptions won't happen either. I just think it's ironic that they both have more to show for themselves in terms of credible names attached to them than what LO has managed to scrape up after five years of promising that it's "still happening" (especially when one of those series is nowhere near as big as LO and the one that WAS as big as LO walked away from Webtoons entirely). For Webtoons' own "worldwide phenomenon", they sure have given LO the shit end of the stick by pairing it with a family-with-kids-under-10 production studio that doesn't specialize in animation and a showrunner who got her start with the Cosmopolitan (weird how LO has so many plugs with Cosmo, huh? Why is JHC producing the show again?)

At the end of the day, nothing's changed. It's still just the ole' "it's still happening" record on a loop, while the comic itself falls further out of favor with people. And it's likely gonna be going behind DailyPass soon, so just think about what that's gonna do to its relevancy after it gets sent away to the equivalent of the Webtoons graveyard.

As I've said countless times before every time this topic comes up, at best, if it is still happening, and I'm wrong about all of this, they are doing the worst job I've ever seen at hyping people up and keeping them informed. It is NOT a good thing that people have to keep asking Rachel if it's still happening.

As for worst case... you wanna know what other projects come to my mind that have fallen into the same state of development hell and decay as LO's TV show? YandereSim and Cryamore. What do you think the popular opinion is about those works and their creators now? Because if you don't know either of those names and are about to google them, let me give you a heads up warning - it's not positive.

If it happens, it happens. It will hopefully be before I get all the therapy I need to undo what LO has done to my brain so that I don't have to make repeat visits LOL But if it's after, hey, maybe the show will be good! Assuming Rachel doesn't, y'know, E.L. James the whole thing. Because frankly, the show will need to cut and rework a LOT of stuff to be any good IMO and I don't think that will be possible if Rachel gets directly involved. But I'm not even hoping for that scenario because there's literally NOTHING to give me that hope, "it's still happening" is nothing more than "don't panic" corporate speak to me at this point. It's cynical, but I just can't waste my energy caring about it anymore.

[futbol16]

You Can Smile?  • Ona Batlle

I’ve really enjoyed writing this so I hope you like it too!

Request:  If you can, maybe a Ona x Reader. Reader is known as someone who is brutal on and off the pitch. This is due to rumors spread around by an ex. Maybe Reader has a few scars on her face and that makes her intimidating because that adds to a few factors like her height and athletic build. But in reality she is a big softy and Ona sees that when she sees R helping a fan after almost being crushed. After witnessing that encounter she observes R for the next few days and sees that R is actually a gentlewoman, holding doors, pulling out chairs, reaching things for people and packing training stuff away. Ona and Reader share a room after being moved around and slowly they get closer. Maybe in a game Ona gets tackled(badly) R gets angry and is just a powerhouse for the rest of the game. Maybe it ends with R being soft towards Ona in front of everyone in the locker room and carrying her to their own room and just hugging her(spooning) in bed with a confession and Ona having to ask R out on a date because R is too shy and can't get the words out. 🤷‍♀️ sorry for rambling. I just love your Ona fics!(:

Word count: 3,9k

Your transfer has been one of the biggest signings of the summer, Chelsea’s star midfielder who hasn’t renewed her contract and a bunch of European clubs wanting her. Everyone expected you to follow your national teammate, Georgia to Germany, but to the fan’s surprise, you chose Manchester. Although many hoped you’d stay true to your colors with the blue jersey, Man United’s welcome post made it clear you were now one of the reds. While some thought you made the wrong decision and should have stayed at Chelsea, the United fans and team welcomed you with open arms and you happily reunited England’s infamous trio. 

Alessia and Ella couldn’t have been more excited about the prospect of having you on their team and soon the rest of the girls were hyped about your arrival too. The two practically jumped on top of you on your first training session and though the pair of them told the rest of the team the rumors about you were false, they were still unconvinced.

You intrigued Ona, the second she saw you Ona knew she wanted to get to know you. However, that was easier said than done. Your departure from Chelsea was for many reasons, all minor in your opinion, but your relationship ending had been the last straw for you and you left your childhood club. The rumors your ex had spread, the not so subtle hinting at your short temper and unapproachable demeanor left your teammates and the Spaniard to believe that you were going to be cold and stoic. 

It was their first impression of you, even after you’ve been introduced to them and have been their teammate for weeks they still only saw that side of you, the rumored side.

Ona watched as you got handed a ball upon entering the pitch and you made your way over to Ella while kicking at the ball. She let her eyes roam over your body. Staring at your face and she let her gaze linger on the scar just below your right eyebrow, there was a similar one next to your chin on the curve of your jaw. It made your already impassive expression look even scarier.

“What’s up soldier?” Tooney’s voice breaks her out of her trance and Ona watches as you nod at the brunette in greeting before passing the ball to her. Again, she was lost as she observed you skillfully control the ball as you warmed up with Ella. Sooner than expected, she’s sent to line up as the game is about to start. 

You’re proud to say it only took you three matches to make the starting eleven and though you don’t show it with a smile, you make sure to give it your all during the game as a thank you to the fans supporting your team in the stands.

Another reason the United team thinks you’re cold is because of your playing style. You were not one to mess with, that’s it and everyone you ever faced knew this. You were brutal during matches, not afraid to get carded as you fought for the badge over your heart and cockily rubbing it into the opponent’s face when you scored. It was a sight to see, the passion you had for the game was one that many admired, Ona being one of them.

 She wouldn’t admit to watching you more than paying attention at practice though. 

Still, your chemistry with the team is undeniable. It’s as if you’ve been playing with them since day 1 and Manchester United seem like an unbeatable team now. 

Yet another ball passes the keeper’s gloves and you show off your signature celebration, no hint of a smile on your face as you silence the crowd.

“YES SOLDIER, YES!” Tooney’s shout is one that almost deafens you but Ona grins at the way your lips twitch upwards. It’s been months since your signing, yet she still wasn’t over just how good you were. You fit in perfectly and it made her even more motivated to not let the opponents close to goal. Truly, your team was one to fear.

Manchester derby is a game that everyone looks forward to, the blues against the reds, City against United. The rivalry is huge, the talent is there but what matters is the score line after those 90’ minutes.

Both teams come in strong but the Red Devils know the outcome of the match by half-time.

Mary is set on having a clean sheet, Ona and Millie are stopping players advancing any chance they get and Alessia, Ella and yourself are linking up in the best way possible up front. 

The crowd is wild at the close to sold out stadium when Man United win 3-1 and for the first time ever you flash a smile to the people, many of them screaming louder than before. 

Both teams decide to make their rounds around the stadium thanking their fans and you pair off with Maya and Ona as you sign autographs.

Ona’s struggling to sign a shirt and you move over to help her, stretching out the material to make it easier to write. She doesn’t know why but her cheeks are burning at the close proximity and she hides a smile.

“Thank you” she mutters out and you unknowingly smile down at her, a tiny smile but nonetheless an incredibly rare sight.

“OH MY GOD, SHE JUST SMILED!”

“Y/N! Y/N!” shouts of your name have you looking up, the smile gone from your face and Ona glances up at you as you straighten up. 

She takes notice of the furrow of your eyebrows and the way your eyes jump around the mass of people as if trying to spot someone. With a gentle hand on her shoulder, almost as if excusing yourself, you step aside and closer to the people. The Spaniard watches on curiously as you’re enveloped by too many people to count. 

“Aye! Back up a bit, will ya?” your strong voice rings out and you step up to the railing as you reach down on the other side. They don’t all listen though and you’re forced to nudge the people away. “Watch out!”

The short brunette has now walked over to you and her eyes widen as you pull a child out of the crowd, a little boy who looks close to tears. A harsh glare is sent to the man behind the kid who realizes his mistake of almost crushing the boy against the railing but before he could apologize you’ve already turned your attention back to the boy.

Ona peers over your shoulder, as much as she can and she listens to how your voice suddenly comes out in a soft, comforting tone. It even has her feeling at ease as you talk to the boy, making sure he’s okay.

“You wanna come with me buddy?” He looks to be around 8 years old but he enthusiastically nods at your words and you quickly check with his parents before placing him in your neck. Ona lets out a giggle as the boy jumps up and down as you carry him around and you turn to her at the sound of the sweet voice. 

“Your face is the same shade of red as your shirt” Millie snorts from next to her and Ona jumps at the sound.

“What do you mean?” she questions even though she knows the answer. Millie laughs at her fake confusion.

“I mean you’ve got the hots for soldier over there.” the blonde points after you and Ona slaps her hand away making sure no one saw. The defender raises an amused eyebrow at the action. “Just talk to her, she can’t be that scary. That kid seems to be having a whole lotta fun with her, so you know, maybe try” she shrugs.

“What? You want me to get on her shoulders?” Ona is beyond confused now and concerned for her friend who doubles over in laughter.

“Sure, if that’s like a kink of yours” Millie continues laughing on the ground as Ona only stares at her blankly, searching for the term of the unknown word but her eyes once again find your form and the dreamy look is back on her face.

She’s never seen you be so soft, so different from what the team was warned you’d be like. It wasn’t necessarily that they all believed the rumors spread about you, but they’ve truly only ever seen the ruthless and intimidating Y/N on the pitch and they didn’t know what you were like off it. The hurtful jabs at you from your ex at Chelsea didn’t help your case either, but this unexpected act of kindness and protectiveness from you had Ona shining a light on you. 

It opened her eyes and throughout the next few days she observed your behavior with the team.

She took notice of the way you’d make sure to greet every staff member in sight when arriving at the training grounds and how you would often help them carry equipment out for training and then stay after to clean up as you shared small talk with the coaching and assistant staff. Unlike any other time, you gave them genuine smiles, though still little, they were there nevertheless and she knew they were grateful for your help. 

She even noticed the lack of trouble Alessia now had with keeping herself upright. The English woman was known for her clumsiness and tripping over everything, mostly her own legs though. Since you’ve arrived the number of times she’d end up on the ground decreased and Ona is sure the blonde could only thank you for that. It was at one of the team lunches that she spotted your foot inching closer to the leg of Alessia’s chair before pushing it closer to the blonde who was standing. If it weren’t for you she would’ve missed her seat by a mile trying to sit back down.

All these little things had Ona realizing that you were far from what the rumors said about you, those rumors were indeed just rumors and totally wrong. 

She was now eager to properly get to know you and get closer to you.

It seems like God heard her wishes, or maybe it was just Marc because the next away game Manchester has the two of you get roomed together. 

“You can have the bed by the window if you want?” you look at the defender asking the question and you raise an eyebrow remembering that she liked to be closer to the window.

“Why? Don’t you want it?” she shrugs at you.

“Maybe, but if you want it then you can have it” you know your façade is breaking when you almost smile but you stick to jokingly rolling your eyes.

“Ona, you can have it, I’m good with the other one.” Even though the other bed looked to be a bit too close to the wall, no doubt whoever would be sleeping on it wouldn’t get much sleep with the way things were positioned, but you still thought it was a silly thing to be discussing. You’d much rather have Ona well rested and happy.

“Gracias” the Spanish slips out and she gives you a sheepish look, her cheeks pink.

The pair of you unknowingly form a routine the first few days before the friendly against Birkirkara. You get ready for the day together, pulling clothes on while making conversation, Ona waiting for you after practices, sometimes joining you and the staff in packing away and in the evening after a long day with the team you shower before her, ending the day with late night conversations. 

It made you wonder why you only just befriended the short defender, but you’re happy you’ve finally had the courage to talk to her. It wasn’t a very well known fact, probably only your England teammates knew about just how shy you could be, especially around pretty women.

The fourth day of the week soon arrives and your team is delighted by the number of fans supporting them despite the match being held far from England. Manchester United bring their best selves and by half-time the reds are up 6-0, yourself scoring a massive goal with a rabona kick. The game is one all of you enjoy and you fight off a smile when Ona gets another assist, and the team another goal. 

However, in the 84’th minute a rather mistimed tackle involving your favorite defender ends with her staying on the ground. You’re quick to get to her and with a gentle hand on her side you search for her gaze.

“You okay Ona?” she gives you a weak nod as she holds onto her thigh and as one of the medics gets to the two of you, you’re informed she strained her quad and would need to get subbed off. When the brunette attempts to limp off on her own you chase after her and allow her to lean most of her weight on you. One of her hands lands on your stomach and Ona stumbles over her feet as she feels your muscles flex under her palm. Her eyes widen as they stare at your jersey clad front and she tries to play it cool once she realizes she is caught staring. 

It isn’t only Millie and Vilde smirking at her, but also Maya, Ella and surprisingly yourself too. Though just before she could open her mouth to stutter out an excuse the two of you reach the sidelines and you leave her there with the medic, only after you’ve given her shoulder a quick squeeze. 

For the remaining six minutes of the match and added injury time Ona watches in amazement as you transform into a damn tank, practically bulldozing over the other team as you try to create as many chances as humanly possible. 3 more goals later the game ends in a 12-0 victory for the Red Devils and Marc is jumping up and down in ecstasy as he grabs you and Alessia in a bone crushing hug before he moves onto the rest of the girls. 

Your eyes are already set on Ona but just as you are about to make your way over a small hand tugs at your arm. You look down curiously at the Maltese mascot, giving her a gentle look when she smiles at you shyly.

“I can have your shirt?” you have to lean down to her level to hear her request muttered in broken English, but you nod at her, flashing her a big smile. She squeals in excitement, lips splitting in a wide grin as you pull your shirt off and hand it to her. She pushes a marker into your hand, yourself laughing at her enthusiasm as you sign the shirt and you send her on her way with a ruffle of her hair.

The smile stays on your face as you get to Ona and Ella doesn’t waste a second to comment on it. 

“Miss tough is showing happiness? Would you look at that” her teasing isn’t meant to be offensive, but you drop the smile in a way that has her baking away with raised hands. She buys your joke as she leaps onto Alessia and commands the blonde to escort her to the changing rooms. Finally, you reach the girl and check up on her.

“How is your leg?” Ona is completely deaf to anything you say as her eyes roam over your upper body, taking in your athletic build. Her stare lingers on your full shoulders and biceps, her mouth watering and she chokes on her saliva once she spots your abs. There’s an amused glint in your eyes and you glance back at Millie in question, but she’s doubled over and laughing loudly at the brunette in front of you. You shrug at their behaviors and instead bring Ona closer to you as you help her walk to the changing rooms. 

The Spanish girl’s whole body heats up as you help her out and eventually carry her to your shared room once you get to the hotel. She clings onto your shoulders with a tight grip that has you wondering if Lucia was right and Ona really is aroused by your muscular body. 

Much like the past few nights your routine is the same but as Ona hops out of the bathroom and gets under the sheets with a bit of struggle she turns to you expectantly.

“What?” you ask and she raises her head from her pillow.

“I wanna talk to you” she says like it’s the most obvious thing.

“I thought you would be too tired to talk” there’s a silly smile on her lips, one that has you swooning as she invites you to her bed.

“To you? Never” it is no secret that the two of you have become extremely close during the past week, the pair of you glued to each other's side, a rather unexpected friendship and you hope the defender hasn’t yet noticed your less than platonic feelings for her.

She shuffles over in the bed and pats the space next to her, urging you to climb under the blanket. Once you settle by her side you take a moment to just look at her. The soft glow of the lights from the street give her already beautiful face an even more angelic look and you melt under the warmth of her own gaze on you.

“Why do they call you soldier?” she breaks the silence, genuine confusion lacing her voice and you stifle a laugh.

“It’s my last name, the name on the back of my shirt.” you clarify and Ona hides her face in embarrassment as you laugh at her. “It’s Saldjer but it is pronounced soldier.” 

“It fits you.” she nods towards you and though she can’t see the massive grin on your face she can hear it in your voice. You’ve found yourself smiling a lot more in her presence and you got tired of trying to hide it, she made you feel giddy and you couldn’t help it.

“Yeah, so I’ve been told.” she thinks for a second, another second where you allow your eyes to wander over her freckle littered face.

“That doesn’t sound English though, I mean the spelling.” she points out, hoping to learn another interesting thing about you.

“It’s the Serbian way of spelling, at least that’s what my dad said.” 

“You’re half Serbian?” her ears perk up and you hum at her question, though soon she has trouble keeping her eyes open, the game from earlier and the scare of an injury taking its toll on her.

“Go to sleep, Onita, yeah?” just as you’re about to get up from her bed a hand reaches out to grasp your shirt, keeping you from standing up.

“Stay, Y/N, please” there’s no way you could say no to her, especially not with the way she says your name in that sleepy smooth voice of hers and you find yourself curling up by her side as you pull the blanket over the two of you.

 You listen to her breathing until once again her hand reaches behind her as she finds your arm she pulls it around herself, effectively forcing you to spoon her. Not to misunderstand the situation, you are not complaining one bit but you’re afraid she can feel your heart beating out of your chest that’s pressed to her back. You hope she’s already asleep. Ona smiles to herself.

“Why is your heart beating so fast?” your breath is caught in your throat as you think of how to answer her and you consider just waiting for her to fall asleep, she couldn’t be far from it. 

“Y/N?” she turns to you, suddenly the tiredness is gone from her body and you go to pull your arm away that still lays over her side but she grabs it, keeping it in place before you could do so.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you squeak out, cursing yourself for being so nervous. 

“Are you sure?” the teasing is clear in her voice, but she means no harm.

“Yes, Ona, like it’s like always like this” you rush out trying to convince her, your breath hitching when she slides a hand up your arm and squeezes at your bicep. “For example today during the game- wait that’s a stupid example- then on the bus -” a soft giggle cuts your sentence short and you exhale in embarrassment.

“You’re telling me your heart is always like this?” her palm is now laying flat on your chest, right above your heart and her eyes soften at the rapid beating. You really do care for her and it has her feeling butterflies in her stomach. 

“Mhm, like always” you quickly nod, only stopping the movement when Ona’s hand cups your cheek, her finger running over the small scar next to your chin, right on the curve of your jaw. You instinctively lean into the warm touch, your eyes fluttering closed for a second.

“So it’s not because of me?” the defender has no idea as to where her confidence is coming from but the adoring look in your eyes assure her of what she’s thinking.

“I-um..I-” you clench your jaw at your stuttering. You haven’t been like this in years, the last time was when asking out your ex and you definitely weren’t doing that right now so what was your problem. Ona’s thumb rubs gentle circles into the skin of your cheek and you release the breath you’ve been holding.

“Relax Y/N, there’s no reason for you to be nervous around me, I feel the same” your eyes widen comically and you’re about to deny the accusation but you’re too far gone. 

“Can I like- on a date? Ask you with me?” the words come out all jumbled and Ona giggles at your flustered state, this time you laugh with her feeling less embarrassed about the situation knowing that she feels the same.

“Let me try” she pokes at your shoulder in a teasing manner and you know you’ve got nothing to hide from Ona, this is the same girl you’ve spent quietly sharing your thoughts with every night before going to sleep this week, you don’t need to be scared of her reaction.

“Would you like to go on a date with me, Y/N? Maybe tomorrow?” 

“Yes, yeah I’d love to” you beam at her and she scoots closer to you. 

You think she’s only going to give you a kiss on the cheek in that real Spanish manner but as you feel her breath on your lips you know what she wants and you’re far less shy about this part. With a final glance in her warm brown eyes that you can just about make out in the dark room you finally close the distance between the two of you and you seal the deal with a soft, loving kiss. Once again you can not help but smile in her presence and as Ona smiles into the kiss too you’re forced to break away. 

The two of you are smiling at each other like two crazy teenagers in love but you like the way she makes you feel and you hold onto one another tightly as you both drift off to sleep, Ona snuggled in your arms. 

Perhaps you would start smiling more.

[randombush3]

Kicking and Screaming

florence pugh x footballer!reader

summary: your relationship is taking a hit from the release of Don’t Worry Darling

words: 4948

warnings: smut

notes: i tried to keep the football terms to a minimum so don’t be daunted by this. this was requested as well — no way i could have come up with this.

It’s all fucking bullshit.

No one seems to believe in your relationship. Or, rather, they’d like to believe in a different one.

She’s convinced you they’re not true. They aren’t true, because you were with her while she filmed, and on FaceTime when bubbles did not permit physical contact. Like, what the actual fuck? It’s insulting to even think about trying to pretend she slept with him.

Everyone can tell that you’re on edge the moment you walk onto the bus. Maybe you’re frustrated because you’ve avoided your girlfriend for a solid week, save for the occasional small talk that occurs when you catch each other in the same room of your house, maybe it’s because you had to fight your way past the paparazzi at your front door.

Attempting to diffuse their teammate, you are met with a series of ‘hi’s that fizzle out the moment you shove your stuff in the hold above an empty row and sit down on your own. This is a player who does not want to be spoken to. You hear a mumble “relationship problems” and scowl, closing your eyes and choosing to block out the entire world for three and a half hours.

When Leah begins to play her pregame hype music (awful, awful music that you’d hate even in the best of moods), they beg you to join in with the singing, making a game of who can possibly get a smile out of you. You groan loudly, covering your face with your hands, but when Jonas looks at you sternly, you give in and face them all. “You get one song,” you announce, “and if it’s shit, I’m not singing.” There’s a scramble for the phone connected to the speaker, and then some absurd song you chose for karaoke once plays.

They manage to get you to sing three, before the coaches coach and the bus stops. You step off and are quickly taken aside by Aaron. The assistant coach looks at you with concern pulling at his smile. The chatter of the team fades into the distance and he begins to talk.

He starts with a simple question: “how are you?”

“I’m fine.” He isn’t convinced. “No, really. I need to just play. I’ve got to play it out.”

“You could have played it out at training.”

“I need an audience.” You need to show everyone – remind them all – how great you are, with or without your girlfriend. No matter what they say about your personal life, you will make sure they cannot attack your playing. “I’m a professional.”

“It’s going to be a tough match, Y/n. They’re a good side, we’re matched almost evenly. No one needs a loose canon on the pitch.”

“I’m notoriously calm–”

“When your girlfriend isn’t in the centre of Hollywood’s latest scandal.” His remark is cutting. You may well have flinched. Aaron then softens, as if suddenly deciding he’s being too harsh. “I will tell Jonas that you will be focused throughout, but if I feel that it’s not working or you’re not playing well, I’m taking you off. We all go through relationship issues. It’s okay to need a moment.”

You’re about to protest, guns firing up and getting ready to blaze your way through a full ninety minute match, but Beattie grabs your arm and makes fun of you for being slow. “How can we start match prep without Saint Y/n?” she whines dramatically.

Aaron nods in dismissal. You follow her unnecessary tugging.

“She’s here!” Beth shouts over the noise. You glare at them, halfway between it being sincere and joking.

Surprisingly, you manage to chat and jostle and tease, partaking in the standard changing room banter. Every so often, your phone buzzes, its screen lighting up with texts and missed calls from Florence, annoyingly reminding you of the lock screen background (Flo and Billie, teeth bared). Some of your teammates notice the amount of notifications you are getting, but none are intrusive enough to assume anything other than social media or an overactive group chat.

Flo’s latest text reads:

Pick up the fucking phone.

How pleasant.

She did start quite civilly, attempting to make up after a particularly venomous row. You’d stormed out, and then she’d slept on the sofa until you came back. The arguing had resumed when she told you she had been unbelievably worried while you were cooling off, so you had slammed your bedroom door shut and drowned her out by pouring over old match footage to analyse your play. You both could be work-oriented if you wanted to. If that was how it was going to be.

Speaking of work oriented — the cheers in the stadium as both teams walk out of the tunnel are enough to pull your focus in onto the here and now, not some stupid and too-common argument.

Once you’ve warmed up and have been reminded of Aaron’s personal terms and conditions for tonight’s game, it’s Jonas’ team talk (stay calm, play your game, press hard defensively) and then kick off.

The whistle sounds and you are back in a situation you can control. It feels good, this feels good. Florence is but a niggle at the back of your mind as you push and shove and dribble and… Okay, yeah, you foul quite a bit.

You have a lot of pent up everything, and instead of taking it out on the ball itself, it does lead to quite a few incidents where you push the player too hard and they end up on the floor, but so what? The first goal is scored fifteen minutes in thanks to your turn over and cross. You’re playing great. Aggressively, sure, but great.

You think you have a great chance of winning the ball in the next tackle you go for. (In hindsight, you are completely lying to yourself.) Your legs go round and under, and she goes down awkwardly, crying out in a mix of shock and pain. You find that you’re pulled down too, small crescents pressed into your forearm when the player lets go of you.

“What the fuck was that?” hisses one of the Man United players, kneeling down to her teammate. You can feel your own team debating whether to crowd the scene or watch from afar.

You blank out the next five minutes, in which the player is helped off by a medic, the ref waves a yellow card in your face, and Jonas goes absolutely nuts from the sideline.

Katie is a dirty player. Not you.

“You okay?” a player from the other team asks, her face determined but eyes gentle. She extends her hand out to you, pulling you up.

Her words remind you that you are very much in the public eye. (And that you are also very much not okay.)

Aaron is emphatic about how disciplined you usually are at half time. In fact, half the team are scared to talk to you considering the uncharacteristic aggression shown on the pitch. When Mead approaches to ask if you’re alright, you turn around and pretend to be extremely interested in the wall.

Aaron tells you that you need to leave this shit off the pitch now. “Taking it out on everyone else doesn’t seem to be working,” he says, “because they’ve scored an equaliser and one of our best players looks like she’s about to beat the shit out of her own team. Take up fucking boxing at this rate!”

“I’m fine,” you insist through gritted teeth, setting your jaw as you prepare to go back on for the last ten minutes of the game. “Jonas thinks I’m fine.”

“He thinks you’re playing fine.”

“Are you my coach or my dad?” you snap, fully aware of the camera pointed at the pair of you. “I will deal with my shit in whichever way I choose. Currently, it might be beating the shit out of my assistant coach.”

He pauses, perplexed. You are a composed person. You are neutral, positive at times, yet he finds not an ounce of regret for your tone nor your language. All he can see as he looks in your eyes is pure, unbridled rage.

Aaron is not stupid. He knows how to win games, he knows how to make sure whatever a player brings onto the pitch is milked for every last drop of usefulness in order to garner a victory.

“I want a goal,” he says with a shrug. He points to your chest, “this fire in your heart… put it on the ball and kick hard.” You nod curtly. He smiles, proud of himself: you needed a target to focus your determination. “Okay, now go,” dismisses Aaron.

Jonas gives technical advice, asking you to score a goal more for the team than your own personal well-being, but that's the difference between coach and assistant coach.

When you step back out there, you feel a new hunger for one thing. You play selfishly, ruthlessly, and incredibly well. No one can seem to get the ball off you, so Man United’s focus shifts to keeping it two metres from you in every direction. Overtime will give them a moment to regroup and re-strategise, so that’s what they aim for.

A bad pass in their defence in the last minute of injury time costs them the ball. You pounce on it, appearing seemingly out of nowhere. Your own team presses down into the box to crowd the defence, leaving them overwhelmed and panicking, on their toes in preparation for your cross.

But your cross never comes.

The goalie is distracted, you realise. The commotion has stressed her out, cracked the icy hold her eyes had on the ball. She can’t see you position yourself towards her net. You think back to Aaron pointing at your heart, and gauge the distance between you and the goal.

You’re outside the box, but you have a chance.

You put your fire on the ball and kick hard.

It flies through the air swiftly, and the goalie can do nothing but dive too low down for it to not go in.

The whistle blows again, and you’re tackled by your team, whooping and cheering in your ear like there’s no tomorrow. You sink into that feeling of warmth and pride.

Everything feels fine again.

“Hey, L/n, they don’t want to talk to me anymore!” Beth calls you over from where she’s greeting fans. She went straight over to them once she shook hands with the other team. You haul yourself off the floor, patting the women you rolled off your body on the back with a mutter of ‘time to be famous’.

Half the pr stuff you’ve learnt is from Flo.

Little girls grin at you, looking up with admiration and stars in their eyes. They hold their dreams out to you, and you smile right back at them, signing everything that they ask you to, taking every picture possible.

“I think you’re my favourite,” declares a boy who’s shoved his way past everyone to get to the front. “You’re definitely my favourite.” He beams.

“Yeah?” You send him a wink, and then he jumps up to get a better look at you — he can’t really see over the barrier. You’re about to pick him up and bring him over the barrier to take a picture with him for his mum, when you notice a woman who hasn’t yet rushed out of the stands to beat the traffic.

She has short blonde hair and is tanned from summer.

The Cartier watch that you bought for her sits spitefully on her wrist.

Your mood sours.

Beth, who is standing beside you, seems to realise you’re no longer loving the attention, and watching you squirm under piercing green eyes isn’t her most favourite thing to do. She nudges you with her shoulder; approval that it’s okay to go back to the changing room.

“Bye!” you say to the crowd, waving at them all before turning around and focusing entirely on not crying or killing somebody.

An interviewer corners you somewhat, forcing you to answer a few questions. “This was a new side of you that we got to see today,” she begins, “is this a new style of play or a one-off?”

You make sure to have the blank, neutral expression before answering. “We’ll see.” She flashes you a smile and gives you a thumbs up. You’re free to continue marching back to the changing room.

They’ll likely be empty seeing as everyone is still on the pitch.

The door slams behind you as you groan in frustration. It echoes through the room, eerily barren of post-win cheer.

Why the fuck was she here? Couldn’t she let you have your space? In fact, couldn’t she just fuck off forever so that you never have to talk about anything?

You’re so caught up in sulking that you don’t notice the door open and shut and another person slip in.

“A yellow card, huh?” Your eyes fixate on the blonde, glaring. “It was a good game.”

“Why are you here?” you fire back, not wanting to hear her praise you because you might give in and buckle your knees and go crawling back to her with tears in your eyes.

“To watch you play,” she answers calmly.

You clench your fists, squeezing pleasantry out of yourself. “So now you care? Now you pay attention to me?” After all of this, she thinks she can show up once and make everything fine again. Bullshit.

“Don’t act like I’m the one running out of every room you walk into!”

Unbelievable.

“I do not run,” you scoff. “Wouldn’t you rather be on the phone to your boyfriend?”

“Wow, so mature.”

“At least I’m not a cheating liar!” you shout, taking the both of you by surprise. She rolls her shoulders back: okay, if this is how it’s going to be. “I’m not sleeping with anyone else, am I? All I’m doing is avoiding you.”

“So you admit you’re avoiding me!”

“Yeah, and you fucking show up at my game, acting as if you have every right to corner me and tell me to forgive you,” you spit, and she recoils at the thought. “Well I’m not going to forgive you.”

“There’s nothing to forgive me for,” she huffs, throwing her arms up in the air in frustration. “It’s not my fault that the media can’t keep out of my business.”

“I know they’re invasive.” It’s not her fault that they hound her. “But I had to find out from a fucking article, not from my girlfriend.”

“There was nothing to fucking find out!” she snaps, stepping closer to you. You feel the heat of her breath cloud your space, your body fighting with everything it has to not be drawn into her. She’s so close that you can see every detail of her tired face.

You tilt your chin up nonchalantly. “Tell that to the tabloids,” you mutter, but she can hear you easily from her position. “Oh, wait… You’re not going to fucking say anything.”

What comes next is a low blow, but people aren’t their best selves in heated arguments. “I thought you were braver than that, Flo.”

She shakes with anger, taking another step closer. “How have you convinced yourself that you’re supportive?” Her voice stays steady even if her body is not. “You tell me I’m a lying, cheating coward but—”

The door, once again, thuds shut.

“I told you we shouldn’t go in!”

Flo jumps backwards, creating distance for you to both stand awkwardly in front of Beth Mead and Vivianne Miedema.

Beth nudges her girlfriend, who quickly wipes the vindictive smile off her face.

“Everything okay?” Beth looks at you with the same concerned expression she’s been using the whole day. “Hi, Flo. I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Neither did I,” you grumble.

“It was a last minute decision.” Her reason is left unsaid, thankfully, but it’s safe to say three out of four people in the room know why — Miedema can be a little slow when being updated with whose side she and Beth are on in this ongoing fight.

“Sounded like a great argument,” says Vivianne, earning herself a harder nudge. “Can we shower and change before you carry on? The rest of the team will be coming through soon.”

You want to laugh but Flo’s glare stops you. Even if everything is falling to pieces, you seem to have a connection. She nods twice and you understand. When you get back, she will be waiting and you will be continuing this conversation in private.

She leaves, walking out in a way that makes you shudder ever so slightly (you chalk it down to the breeze the door creates, not the sight of her).

“So… did you call her a lying, cheating coward?” Beth asks as she sits on the bench you’re standing by, swinging her legs like a schoolgirl.

“Are you going to pretend you didn’t hear everything?”

She pauses for a moment, and then concedes. “Okay, yeah, we were outside for a good portion of it, but you guys were really loud. And Viv wanted to listen!”

Your other teammate shakes her head in protest. “Big, fat lie. I was going to have a chat with Katie while you guys shouted at each other.”

“No, if we hadn’t interrupted they so would have fucked,” Beth thinks aloud.

You snort. “Ha! As if—”

Vivianne turns to her girlfriend as if she actually has a point. “I’m surprised they were fully clothed when we walked in.”

- - -

She’s waiting for you in the kitchen when you get back.

You were held back by Jonas for five minutes when he wanted to congratulate you on your playing and tell you he likes the more aggressive side of you, but other than that, you’re true to your ETA. That text was the first you’d sent her in at least a week.

There are two plates on the counter, and quickly they are full of pasta bolognese. The meat is good protein.

“I thought we could eat and talk.”

You say nothing, but grab a fork for the both of you. You don’t sit down for fear of habitually sitting opposite her at the table. If you look at her too long, you’ll forgive her straight away.

After a few mouthfuls of the admittedly delicious food, you gesture with your fork. “Go on. Talk.” Maybe you should really hear her out.

She sighs. “When we first started dating, we talked about my sex scenes. I told you that they’re awkward to film and not at all romantic, and that I’ve never been attracted to any man I’ve had to pretend to be attracted to. It’s off-putting, really, and I thought you understood that.” She waits for your defensive interjection but you stay quiet. “Olivia is marketing this movie in a very horrible way — a way I had no say in. Reducing everything down to sex is harmful in itself, but I will not let it be any more harmful to this relationship than the publicity has already been.

“What you said about me not being brave, it’s true. I didn’t want to prolong a bad situation, but it’s hurting us and I hate that.”

She moves to take your plate to the sink, but your legs bring you with her. When she turns back around, plate no longer in hand, your arms are on either side of her body, pinning her underneath you against the counter.

“So you’re doing an interview,” you finish for her, speaking in a low voice. You don’t break eye contact. “Are you going to tell them that no one fucks you as well as I do?”

Flo blushes, crossing her legs. Her reaction doesn’t go unnoticed.

You lean down slowly, your lips hovering over her ear. “Who’s better, Florence? Me or him?”

Her shoulders tense, skin flushing beneath the worn material of an old concert t-shirt from a decade ago. She wears nothing else, apart from underwear.

Your eyes hold her gaze, daring her to look away. She shifts uncomfortably under your stare, unable to ignore the aching between her legs that comes with how close you are to her. She is not about to kiss you.

No, she’s angry that you would ever believe a stupid article over her. Or was it that you…

Does it matter? What were you even arguing about?

She can’t seem to remember anymore.

“Me… or him?” you repeat. The movement of your lips draws her eyes to them, something that you catch immediately.

“You’re jealous,” she replies, letters tumbling out onto one another as she forgets how to speak. You’ve dropped your hands to her waist. Your grip tightens as she smiles proudly at her clunky declaration. “You’re jealous of him.” Her eyes shut for a moment when you step closer, pressing her between you and the counter.

“You’re turned on.” Your smirk is enough to make her want to kiss you. Solely for the purpose of wiping it off your face, of course.

“I’m so turned on.”

You chuckle quietly at her admission. “What are you gonna do about it?”

Her chest presses against you and you almost forgo holding out on her. “Maybe I’ll have to make a call,” she whispers.

You smooth your palms down her curves, cupping her arse and pushing into her until your knuckles hit the counter. “Really?” Your lips hover just above hers, but she can’t lift up to reach them because you’re holding her down. “Not gonna kiss me?”

She shrugs. “Make me.”

You barely have to move for her lips to touch yours, but once they do it feels like you can’t get close enough. Her hands bunch the fabric of your hoodie, pulling it up and down as if she’s trying to get you out of it but can’t think of how to do so. You lift her up, swiping away the dishes from the counter without hesitation, lips never leaving her body. She moans loudly, unrestrained, as you reach your hand up her shirt, kneading at her breasts.

It doesn’t take long for her clothes to come off.

Blinded by pleasure, she leans back, almost slumping against the wall before knocking against a dirty glass and spilling water. She jumps at the noise, but you’re locked in with the focus you usually reserve for games. You pull her into you, arms wrapped around her thighs, and walk her back to the table. It’s lower, meaning you tower over her. She gasps at the coldness of the wood against her bare skin.

With a wild look in your eyes, you sink to your knees, hands running up her legs before reaching the tops of her thighs. She pants as she watches you intently, opening her legs as you guide her to.

You stop for a moment, taking a second to glance up at her. Florence is almost sprawled out on the table, sitting partially upright in order to see what’s taking you so fucking long. She opens her mouth to gripe or make some snide comment to rile you up, but your tongue flicks her clit and suddenly her sole focus is pushing your head further between her legs.

Her fingers tangle their way through your hair, any hair bobble long gone, giving her enough sturdiness to buck her hips into your mouth. Legs locking around your neck, she throws her head back and gasps loudly. “Fuck, baby, that’s so good,” she says. Her voice slices its way through your focus. Your moan into her. “So good,” she repeats, and then chants over and over as your tongue dives inside her.

Your grip on her thighs tightens, nails pressing into the soft skin. She moans and grinds her hips down, telling you she needs it harder, faster. You nod, and the movement causes her to yank your head back up.

You make the most obscene noise she has ever heard.

“You like that?”

“Not now,” is your short reply. She frowns, but forgets all previous emotions when your tongue is back inside her and your thumb is rubbing her clit.

She doesn’t have to tell you she is going to come.

Her legs tighten and her thighs suffocate you, your hair becoming the only visible part of your head. The hand that isn’t pulling at your hair is clawing at the edge of the table, seeking something to hold onto before she floats away. You use your whole face; nose, mouth, any part that can touch her.

“Don’t…” But the sentence isn’t finished. She cries out, the sound piercing the silence and echoing through the house. “Oh, fuck.”

You feel a pressure building inside of you, the throbbing at your clit becoming incessant. You drop your free hand to your joggers, but your eyes squeeze shut before you even have to touch yourself. You moan into her, the vibrations shooting through her body and splitting her in half. She comes loudly, and you find that you come too.

When you stand, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, examining the mess made. What once was a plate now lies in broken shards on the floor.

“We need to clean this,” you mutter, more to yourself than her.

She seems to pounce on you. “Later. No one fucks me like you do.”

- - -

Both of you fall asleep very quickly after five more rounds of very jealousy-fueled sex. She eggs you on the whole time, meaning you are relentless in your assault on her entire body; a price she will pay in the morning.

You wake to your phone buzzing its way off the bedside table.

Flo’s asleep with a leg between yours, chest pressed against you, face buried into your neck. You don’t move, feeling for your phone with an extended arm as to not wake her up.

Leah’s calling.

You groan.

“Hi, Leah,” you greet, faux chirpiness failing to cover the evident exhaustion in your voice. You did nearly lose it last night.

“Hi. Where the fuck are you?” You glance around at your bedroom, tentatively answering with the truth. She does not sound happy. “It’s half past two. You were supposed to be at training an hour ago.”

“Oh.”

You were asleep.

“Yes, ‘oh’! Jonas is on everyone’s case, get you arse here.” She pauses, you can imagine her lifting her finger off the hang up button. “…Are you alright? You sound dead.”

“I just… used my voice lots last night.” She’ll assume you had a—

“Screaming match?”

“Yeah, you could call it that.”

You bite your lip, waiting for her response. “Oh, okay. Well hurry up. I’ll tell Jonas you had a late night.”

“Thank you,” you say calmly, pretending to care a lot more than you do. It’s hard to care about other things when there’s a naked woman on top of you. “Bye, Leah.”

“Bye.”

The covers rustle slightly. “Our neighbours must hate us,” Flo mumbles, voice muffled by your neck. You run your hand down her back, settling just above her bum.

“Sorry?”

She lifts her head up, hair stuck the side of her cheeks, sex-teased and knotted. “The neighbours. They must hate us.”

You shrug, “fuck the neighbours.”

“Ah, I bet they say ‘the neighbours fuck’ over there.” You laugh at her stupid joke, enjoying her lazy grin. “I think you’re going to make me lose my voice one of these days.”

You both sound pretty hoarse.

“I shouldn’t have avoided you.” She frowns. You press a kiss to the top of her head. “I was angry at everyone; angry about the things people were saying, angry about the way you wouldn’t say anything. It was so frustrating to be cast aside so quickly, seemingly not being an option or a factor in anything to do with your love life. I felt so insulted, and I felt like you weren’t standing up for me.”

She lets you talk.

“I’m sorry for not hearing you out sooner,” you whisper, pressing your forehead to hers. “I love you, but I was so hurt and loving you was making it worse.”

“I get it,” she replies carefully. “The media flips so quickly, always picking sides and making up sources. I’m sorry for not standing up for you.”

You realise it’s not her fault. She doesn’t really get to choose the management of things like this.

You smile. She nudges you. “A screaming match?”

Shit. Training.

“We did!”

“I’m pretty sure screaming matches involving orgasms are just… sex.”

“They’re not going to suspect a thing,” you say slyly. She rolls her eyes and moves off you, allowing you to get dressed.

You leave in the next ten minutes, calling her to say goodbye.

- - -

In the changing rooms at the end of a session you barely made it to, the girls change and shower like they normally do.

Beside you, however, is one very stunned Katie Mccabe. Her mouth agape, she begins to attract a curious few.

“What’s wrong with Katie?” Leah questions suspiciously, eyes following the direction everyone is pointing in.

You stand with a guilty expression. Your sports bra only covers some of the many, many hickeys littering your body. Beth smirks and tells you to turn around.

They gasp at the state of your back.

“That’s gotta be painful,” mutters Raffa, shaking her head. She smiles soon, though. It’s hard to not be proud of you.

“Some screaming match you had,” Leah huffs bitterly. “Can’t believe I explained your relationship issues to Jonas. Twenty minutes of my life I’ll never get back.”

tags: @pewpughpew @ridleypugh @jeyramarie @flosbelova @kassies-take @delfiore @yelenabelovasbxtch @xsophiesx @slut4milfs69 @sunshadesnrainbowz @wandasbb @karsonromanoff

[wosowrites]

Running out of Time (Jessie Fleming x Reader)

Warnings: none

A/N: Based of a request:

Prompt: after coming back from injury, reader isn’t being played at Chelsea. So, Jessie comforts her and helps her get to her best again to be played. Btw, i absolutely love Emma Hayes, but for the sake of this story I had to write her out as being the bad guy.

It had been two months since you came back from a broken leg. You had worked your ass off to get back on the field. But in the two months since you came back, you were riding the bench. You had been subbed on most games, but you weren’t performing how you wanted too. This caught up to you during one game against Aston Villa.

Chelsea was winning 3-0 in the 75th minute, so Emma decided to sub off Erin for next weeks important London derby vs Arsenal. You came on to the loud cheers of the blues at Kingsmeadow. The fans loved you, you were sweet, ballsy, talented, and they were unhappy with Emma for not playing you. If the lineup was decided by popularity, you would start every game. But football wasn’t a popularity contest.

You played fine. Made good plays that sadly led to nothing, shot the ball wide, over, and once off the crossbar.

In the 89th minute, you were making a perfect run, but Rachel Daly clipped your ankles just outside the box, playing it off as being the ball. The referee was oblivious.

You fell to the ground, staying down a bit. Not in physical pain, no, all your pain was mental. You stood up, tears filling your eyes as you tried to stay strong. Guro tapped you on the back, seeing your pain and telling you to keep her head high. You briefly caught the eye of Jessie Fleming, who had been subbed off just under four minutes ago.

The final whistle blew a minute later, no extra time needed. You crouched down to the ground, finally letting out the tears you were holding in. You were so tired. So tired of trying so hard to channel the pre-injury you, but you couldn’t. You leaned on your hands, sobbing quietly. You felt people surround you, your team as well as opponents.

You weren’t down long, standing up a minute later and wiping your eyes with your shirt. You pulled the blue jersey you were so proud to wear and covered your face with it. Feeling a few people patting your back and congratulating you. The only voice that pulled you out of your internal misery, was the one of Jessie Fleming.

You had something going on between you, but you were both shy, busy, and blooming young players who weren’t preoccupied about relationships at the moment.

"I know that you don’t want to hear how good you did so just wipe your tears and come here." Jessie said to you softly, you looked at her slowly, your cheeks wet with tears. She took the sleeve of her puffy coat and wiped it over your cheeks, proceeding by bringing you into a hug.

Emma tried to come over, but Jessie waved her off gently.

Eventually, you all made it into the changing room where the team was buzzing about the win. You weren’t. You felt numb as you sat at your cubby. Exasperated.

Magda was giving a speech, hyping up the girls for their amazing performances, but you couldn’t listen. You got up quickly, a few people looking at you because of your sudden movement.

You rushed past Magda, tears welling again. "Keep going. Sorry." You mumbled to her softly.

You hurried out the room and back onto the pitch, making sure everyone was gone before entering the actual field. Everyone was, and you kept your walk focused on entering the middle of the pitch. Once there, you sat down on the ground and stared up at the night sky. You then laid down, feeling the wet grass on your back. Flipping over onto your stomach, and burying your face into the ground, you let out a scream.

"Y/n…?" A small voice said, causing you to swiftly flip back onto your back and stare up at the person. "Jessie. Shit you scared me." You told her, putting your arms above your head and interlocking your fingers.

"I scared you? You scared me. What’s going on? I mean. I think I know but… i want to hear you say it." Jessie said to you, lying down beside you.

You thought for a second, wondering if you wanted to confide in the freckled canadian. You knew your voice would break the second you started talking. But you spoke up anyways.

"Jessie… i’m so tired. I’m tired of staying thirty minutes after training and eating extra healthy, and putting in extra shifts at the weight room. I’m tired of working my ass off just to be put on that field late, and to have my confidence trampled by Emma." You said, your voice was shaky, and tear filled.

"Y/n… you are an incredibly talented player who has an incredibly shitty thing happen to them. And now you’re having trouble finding your footing. It happens. And honestly, Emma should be playing you. It’s bullshit. But you have to keep pushing." Jessie told you, turning to her side and propping herself up on her forearm to look at you.

You felt her eyes on you, you liked her eyes on you. She reached over and softly wiped a piece of grass from your forehead, your touch sent shivers down your spine.

"I’ve gotten contract offers from Manchester United and Manchester City. They guarantee me as a starter." You said softly. Your voice shaky, now from the contact Jessie had with your skin more than anything. "You don’t want that, do you?" Jessie said confidently.

You turned your head to look at her, looking from her eyes, to her lips, and back again.

"Your right. I don’t want that. I want to be at Chelsea, with you." You told her, eye contact never breaking. You left Jessie no time to answer. Quickly, you had flipped yourself on top of her, using the weight of your body to push her into the grass. You looked at each other for a few seconds until Jessie craned her neck to kiss you.

You made out for minutes, stopping ever so often to breathe, but mostly, you were attacking each others lips, and exploring each bothers bodies.

"Uhm… guys?" A voice said, a voice that wasn’t yours or Jessie.

You quickly jumped off of Jessie, launching yourself away from her and then wiping down your kit. Jessie did the same, standing awkwardly behind you. "Sorry… it’s just… the bus is leaving soon. Like, now actually." Magda said.

"Uh- yeah, we- okay let’s go." You said swiftly, walking quickly towards Magda. When you reached her, she slung an arm around you. "Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone." Magda said. "You won’t tell anyone other than P," you corrected her. "Yeah." She winked.

A week later.

Every day since yours and Jessie’s on field moment, you had been slipping each other fleeted touches and looks, and Jessie, all though she wouldn’t say it, had taken it upon herself to get you back to your starting 11 position. She stayed with you after training, ate the same things you did, and was always cheering you on loudly at practice.

And it was paying off. You were scoring like crazy in practice, defending and making perfectly timed tackles all the time. You were playing like you did before your injury. So when the week of the game against Arsenal came, and Emma announced the starting lineup. You felt like crying all over again. You were riding the bench once more.

When Emma told the team the lineup, you could visibly see the looks of shock on their face, everyone had noticed your efforts in training, and how strong you were being.

Amongst the shocked faces, one stood out. Jessie’s face was not painted with the same shock as her teammates, it was painted with anger. She was starting the game, having been starting a lot due to Pernille’s injury.

"Okay, let’s get em girls!" Emma said, clapping her hands together and walking out the field.

You, along with the other people riding the bench walked out first to claps from the field, and you even heard a few confused murmurs from the Arsenal bench. They were expecting you to start, having seen your performance in training from Chelsea’s training clips.

The game started, and right away the pressure was insane from both sides. Every single time Sam or Lauren managed to get into the box, it was as though Leah Williamson appeared out of nowhere to take the ball. And every time Katie Mccabe or Stina Blackstinius got close to the net, Magda or Kadeisha would come in with a perfect tackle.

It was only the 11th minute of the game when Fran went down in the midfield after a rather tough tackle from Katie, earning the gunners a yellow. Fran was holding her ankle, not looking as though she was getting any better as the medics examined her.

"Y/n!" Emma’s voice called over. You stood up quickly, your shin pads were on, your cleats were tied, your hair was done, you were ready to go. "How do you feel about playing attacking midfielder?" She asked, putting her arm around your shoulder and looking at you. "I feel great about it. Put me on." You told her.

It was true, you were a defensive mid, and preferred it, but at this point, you just needed game time and an opportunity to prove yourself. So, the fourth official held up his panel where your number 18 in green was displayed in green, and Fran’s number 14 in red. You ran onto the field the second Fran was off, giving her a little tap on the back. The blues close to you high fived you and you set yourself up in the outside of the box for the free kick.

Kadeisha and Magda were standing over the ball, deciding who to take it. Eventually, Kadeisha walked over to it, acting as though she was going to adjust the ball, giving Magda the perfect opportunity to kick it into the box. You saw the ball come to you, it went just over your head. You dove sideways, your head connecting with the ball before you fell to the ground.

Kingsmeadow erupted in cheers. You stood up swiftly, running to the corner and sliding on your knees, soon tackled by Sam, Magda, Keish, Lauren, Millie and Jessie. "That’s our girl!" Millie yelled, hugging you.

You laughed of joy as you ran back to your half.

The first half ended 1-0, but you were thirsty for more. In the 60th minute, Jessie sent Sam the most beautiful ball through. It split Leah Williamson and Rafaelle Souza, giving the striker the perfect opportunity to turn on her jets. Sam got to the ball, Lauren and Guro running down both her wings, you running behind her. Sam was running out of time and shot the ball just outside of the box.

It hit the post and went bouncing back out onto the field, right where you were. You don’t know what came over you, but you dove head first into the ball, sending it into the back of the net.

Sam rushed over to you, helping you up and spinning you around. Your team celebrated with you, and when everyone was breaking apart, Jessie whispered to you "that’ll show Emma."

90th minute anxiety was creeping up the backs of the gunners. But you were calm and collected. That is, until Steph lost her temper in the Arsenals box and sent Jessie flying forward with a push in the back. "Hey! What the hell!?" You yelled, leaving your spot and rushing over to Jessie who was getting up. "Y/n don’t argue." Jessie said, getting up. "Why the hell not?"

And then you noticed that the stadium was cheering, and that the referee was pointing towards the penalty area. The team in red tried to argue, but it was no use.

"Get your hat trick, y/n." Jessie said, handing you the ball.

Guro usually took pens, it was her speciality. You looked over at her, but she nodded to you. You placed the ball on the spot, took a deep breath and waited for the whistle.

When it blew, you ran to the ball slowly, faked left, and shot it in a panenka right down the middle.

[maxsimagination]

𝗯𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝘄𝗮𝗹𝗹 - 𝗺.𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗱

warnings: none

a/n: let’s pretend they won against england

----

tony stood in front of us, giving his pre-game speech in an attempt to hype us up for the next 90 minutes. i had zoned out, someone cheering me on was never the way for me to get into the game.

i had always been the sort to get angry and play my heart out. in my trance my eyes had trained themselves on mackenzie, or macca, as the team nicknamed her. she was intensely listening to tony's speech, her being the complete opposite to me in almost ever way.

she must've felt my eyes on her and turned her head just slightly and glanced at me with a small smile. i return the favour and grin over at her before tuning into what tony was saying. "...we can do this girls, finals here we come!" he finishes with a shout and sam steps up to head off our chant.

"tillies on three. one, two, three, TILLIES!" we all shout the last word and break apart with a cheer.

i was insanely nervous but i knew i could do it. the girls started dispersing around the changing room, most just completing their pre-game rituals if they haven't already. i only had one, and me and mac did it together. before we did, i went around the room, hugging the girls and wishing them good luck, we could do it.

then i got to mackenzie. she pulled me in for a bear hug and i melted into her. "i love you so much. you can do this." she grinned down at me from her 5"10' stature.

"i love you too." i laughed.

tony clapped his hands, grabbing our attention. "alright girls, time to get out there." we moved into the tunnel, each of us holding a child mascots hands.

——

the whistle was finally blown after we sung the anthems for both countries and took a knee. i jumped in my place, remembering what mac had told me earlier. england had first possession and they were running towards us, full speed.

i was immediately in there, looking to steal the ball back from millie bright. she managed to spin away from me but i still took off after her, she was fast i'd give her that but this was a warmup for me.

the ball was mid-pass to rachel daly when i kicked away and took off with it. weaving in and out of the opposing players, everyone tried to get it off of me but they couldn't. i kicked it to sam who pulled a header and i took possession again. i was closing in on the goal and mary earps who looked like she was ready for me. we'll see.

i went in for the kick but made it look like it was going one way then kicked the other, sending mary the opposite direction to where i had kicked. the crowd went wild, and i ran back into my teammates who were cheering like crazy.

australia was 1-0 and it had only just been five minutes. we reset and england had possession again, taking off towards us again. i tried to get in there but it was alessia russo with the ball and she had always been the one player that knew my tricks, after i had a 2 year stint at arsenal with her. and she could match my speed. we stayed neck and neck with each other, getting closer and closer to mac and our goal.

i made one last ditch attempt to get the ball away but alessia was too close and she booted it straight towards mackenzie. i sucked in a breath in anticipation and watched, almost in slow motion, as the ball went hurling towards mac and... she caught it!

mackenzie caught the ball, landing roughly on the grass but getting up just as quickly, yelling a 'come on!' as if to ask if that was all they had. i just ran to hug my girlfriend and then got back on the pitch. we played the rest of the first half, with neither side scoring another goal and went to half time, australia still 1-0 to england.

——

"keep it going! we only have one last chunk left and we're in the finals, further than we've ever been before!" tony was almost giddy with excitement at how we were going. half time break was almost up and we all fist bumped each other, getting ready to head back out.

i was getting jumpy, waiting to get on the field again and finally we could. i was the first out there, followed by sam, and we got into position.

whistle blew and we were off, we had the ball first this time. sam kicked it to me and i quickly passed it on to hayley, she ran down the wing but was surrounded by england players. she kicked it out the side to me and i gave it back to sam who took off with the ball.

there were only two players in front of her; millie bright and lauren james. neither of the two girls could stop the ball from flying past them and into the net behind mary. sam had scored our second goal.

we all ran towards her, the crowd went wild behind us. i checked the time displayed on the screens, reading 20:00 in bold numbers. holy shit, it's been 25 minutes already? it seemed unreal but i had to quickly focus back on the game.

england started in possession, and it seemed this time they were more aggressive, trying anything and everything to score a goal. but every time they got near the goal, it was steph defending, or if it got past her then mac saved the ball. i was so proud of her, she was absolutely crushing it out here.

we kept going, the score still 2-0 to us after sam's miracle goal in the 67th minute. the timer blinked 90:00 but it wasn't over yet, we still had to play injury time, 5 minutes of it. as much as i wanted a 3-0 score for us, and tried my hardest to get through england's defence, it wasn't happening in five minutes.

the ref called the game over and we were over the moon. we'd won the semi final match against england and we were into the finals.

i ran around the pitch, crashing into my teammates who were just as happy and excited. mac had come up the field to celebrate with us and i made a beeline for her, getting to her before alanna does.

"mackenzie arnold, you brick wall! i love you so much!"

she burst out laughing at my words, picking me up and swinging me around. once she put me down the rest of the team swarmed her, all of them praising her masterful goalkeeping abilities.

i calmed down from my high, and looked over to see the england players dejected, in particular lucy. she was a friend, i had played with her when i moved from arsenal to lyon, but then west ham picked me up and i moved back to the wsl. i just sat next to her on the field, one arm around her and head on her shoulder.

"next year luce, next year." she sniffed, and that broke my heart. i don't think i'd ever seen her cry except for losing a match that had meant everything to her. she thanked me, insisting i go back and celebrate with my team.

i jogged back over to them and joined in the victory lap around the pitch. macca had taken her gloves off so i grabbed her hand and she liked to see me. "you're our saviour, mac. couldn't have down it without you." she grinned back down at me. "i'm a brick wall, right?" her words referenced mine before.

"my brick wall."

[plaquerat]

The Ministry Tarot

Living my truth and doing Cumulus x OC because if I don't I will die. Thank you to everyone who hyped me up 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

Summary: Cumulus helps the newly ordained deacon set up

(Credit @ghuleh-recs for making the divider)

Go all the way down the stairs. Turn left. Walk down the hall until you start to hear a low hum in the air. Stop when you see a stained glass window that you could swear is built into the mountain itself. Turn to the door opposite it. Here you will find the Satanic Ministry’s resident oracle.

“Here?”

“Mmm… higher.”

“Here?”

“A little more to the right…”

“...Here, sweetheart?”

“P-perfect. It's- it's a good spot. Th-thank you, Cumulus.”

Newly ordained, Deacon Virgil was very happy to have help setting their new office up. They couldn't carry very much, and they were scared of standing on anything that wasn't the floor— it was amazing that they were okay not being on the ground floor, given the stairs. Plenty of ghouls were available to help them. They had insisted on it, in fact.

It was just that they had anticipated their older brother, not one of the ghoulettes. Instead of a lanky, rat-like quintessence ghoul, they had been met with an air ghoulette, just barely taller than them, and definitely far more blue and bovine. Cumulus.

At least she wasn't afraid of step ladders.

She had been very helpful so far, and sweet to Virgil, too. Not that they weren't wary. They tended to stick close to their family. Everyone else was nice enough, but they could never tell if it was genuine or because their family ran the place.

It wasn't like they could promote anyone…

They were pulled out of their thoughts by a gentle nudge. They startled a bit, turning to the source.

“You okay, hon?” Cumulus's voice came so sweetly. “You're gettin’ a bit spacey.” Her ears twitched, her expression a bit hard to read with her bangs covering her eyes.

“Oh, uh… y-yeah…” Virgil shook their head, trying not to get too lost in thought again. “Sorry. It runs in my… my, um, family.” They chuckled quietly, a nervous punctuation.

“Oh, bless your heart,” Cumulus chuckled, more genuinely amused than the deacon. “You get it from your daddy?” The ghoulette hopped up on the empty desk behind her, crossing one leg over the other.

Virgil made a noise comparable to a creaking door, trying to not look at the way her thighs squished together. “Uh-huh.” They focused on some spot on the wall. Glow-in-the-dark stars would do wonders for this room. Or look terrible.

“My, uh…” They cleared their throat. “My brother, uh, he gets like this too, so probably. Yeah. From my dad.” They nodded again, wondering how well someone with bangs over her eyes could see them glancing at her thighs. “You know that, I think. He's in the band with you.”

Cumulus shifted a bit, leaning back as her tail thumped against the front of the desk. “In the…? Oh!” She gasped in realization, the bell on her neck making a pleasant clunk at the movement. “You're Phantom's little sibling?” She giggled as Virgil nodded. “He's always talkin’ about you. You know, last week he told us—”

“Hey, actually!” Virgil moved almost robotically, grabbing her clawed hand and tugging her into standing up. “I think there's some things we still need to unpack.” They pulled her over to the remaining box by the door. “Let's do that. I'll, uh, I'll read your fortune after. And not talk about whatever Phantom said. Ever.”

“Aw, sweetiepie…” Cumulus spoke softly as she gently closed her hands around Virgil's own. “He doesn't mean anything bad. He just talks about you ‘cause he loves you.”

Virgil's cheeks heated up at the touch of her hands on theirs. “I know, he just… When people talk about family, it's s-so…”

Cumulus shook her head. “He's too nice for that, you know it.” She removed her right hand from on top of theirs, and moved it up to push her bangs up.

Virgil's heart jolted at the sight of her eyes. Four gorgeous blue irises on pitch black sclerae, like sapphires set on inky black velvet.

If they weren't already attracted to the ghoulette, they certainly would be now.

Cumulus smiled softly at them, her long eyelashes serving to make the look even sweeter. “He always makes you sound so cute, honeybear. You should at least know that.”

Virgil felt like their brain just exploded. Their hands shook as they grasped the one still touching them. “I'm c- you- you think I'm cute?”

Cumulus chuckled, her free hand moving to cup the deacon's rapidly reddening cheek. “I reckon so,” she cooed, her voice like honey. “I've heard all about all the little things you do, your little fungus friends, all that hard work you're always doin’...” Her thumb caressed their face, catching a loose brown curl by their ear and playing with it. “‘N now I have a face to match to that. And, honey?”

“Y-yeah…?” Virgil leaned into her soft touch. Their glasses skewed a bit as the arm stuck between their head and her hand. Somehow they weren't scared of this. Normally they would run from advances, but here, they weren't even fidgeting with their stole. Their attention was undivided.

Cumulus leaned in, her soft lips just barely pecking Virgil's nose. “I like what I see here.”

The next hour passed pleasantly. The office wasn't hard to set up in the first place— a pretty girl liking you was definitely a morale boost, though. Virgil was still nervous talking to Cumulus, but that kiss did seem like an invitation to them, at least for interaction.

By evening, the final crystal had been placed, the final books had been shelved, and chairs had finally been brought in for the tired pair to collapse into.

“Finally…” Virgil sighed. “Thanks for the…” they paused, stretching and stifling a yawn. “The help. I couldn't even try to lift some of that.”

“Any time, baby,” Cumulus responded, leaning on the desk, propping herself up on her elbows. “I do love helpin’ the new clergy members.” She giggled. “I'm sure you didn't forget your promise, did you?”

Virgil huffed, not quite a chuckle. “Alright, alright, let me get the cards out.” The top drawer slid open. Cumulus sat up as she watched a worn box get set down, and open to reveal a deck decorated with eyes and stars.

“I'll read your fortune.” Virgil shuffled their deck, their usually clumsy hands moving with dexterity at their current task. “Let me guess— love?”

[bro-atz]

IRRESISTIBLE CHAPTER ONE: WHY DO YOU HATE EACH OTHER SO MUCH?

pair: cmo!san/employee!oc word count: 2.6k chapter rating: pg-13 — sfw! genre: romance, drama

table of contents ♤ next chapter

The sound of heels clacking rapidly and heavily on the ground got closer and louder with every passing second. Gyuri and Minkyung looked up from their lunches to see Iseul running over to them. The second she arrived at their table, she held onto her knees and panted heavily. Gyuri couldn’t help but laugh upon the sight of her friend struggling to catch her breath.

“What took you so long?” Gyuri asked with a hint of a laugh.

“The server went down for a second… I almost cried,” Iseul managed to respond in between her deep swallows of air.

“Oh, shit. It was the latest music video, right?”

“I’m telling you, fangirls are terrifying. They have so much power,” Iseul nodded and sat down at their table, her hands trembling as she reached for Minkyung’s water when the girl offered it. “I hate whoever thought it’d be a good idea for clients to put up promotions on the company site for more fan-sign opportunities.”

“Mr. Kim came up with it,” Minkyung said cautiously.

“…I’m convinced Mr. Kim hates IT,” Iseul concluded.

Gyuri let out a tiny snort before finishing the last tomato in her bowl. She looked up to see Iseul’s teary eyes staring right at her.

“Um, yes?”

“Don’t leave me…”

“Okay, okay. We’ll stay. Go grab your food,” Minkyung ushered the girl to get up.

“We’ll?” Gyuri looked at Minkyung skeptically.

“Yes, we will. We still have plenty of time before our breaks are over.”

With a sigh, Gyuri nodded. Iseul shot up and left to go buy food from the company cafeteria. While they waited, instead of talking to each other like normal people would, Gyuri and Minkyung went right to their phones and kept themselves entertained on their phones until Iseul returned. Just as Iseul sat down, five gorgeous men clad in different colored suits walked into the cafeteria. Gyuri and Minkyung both stared at the men with sparkling eyes while Iseul, on the other hand, dug into her food. She observed her two friends skeptically before saying, “You guys are crazy. They’re our bosses. You know that.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t appreciate the eye candy,” Minkyung responded without taking her eyes off the men.

“That’s still crazy. I don’t get the hype, and the fact that they’re called C5 is so weird.”

“Wait, do you not know why they’re called C5?” Gyuri asked.

Iseul shook her head, prompting the other two girls to launch into a full explanation to their friend who recently joined the company.

“So all five of them are the chief officers of the company. You have your CIO Mr. Kang Yeosang, CMO Mr. Choi San, CFO Mr. Jeong Yunho, COO Mr. Park Seonghwa, and CEO Mr. Kim Hongjoong. They’re all also the founders of the company,” Gyuri started. “They all also have their own nicknames that those not part of upper management call them.”

“Like what?”

“Mr. Kang is the “Happy Virus” because he is very sweet and kind and cheers everyone one, which I’m sure you know because you work in his department,” Minkyung looked at Iseul expectantly, who nodded in response. “Mr. Choi is “The Gold Standard” because he’s so detail oriented and his pitches usually bring more money into the company. Mr. Jeong is. “Mr. Cool Guy” because even when the company stocks were plunging, he was the sole person who brought it back up and higher. Mr. Park is “Cherry Blossom” because he’s an ethereal being who is so sweet and compassionate.”

“No wonder he’s head of HR,” Iseul acknowledged.

“And Mr. Kim is “Captain” because without him, this company would be a sinking ship,” Gyuri concluded.

Right at that moment, the men walked by their table. All three girls stood and bowed to greet their superiors, the five of them bowing back. Moments after they left, Minkyung and Gyuri let out deep, enamored sighs, and Iseul rolled her eyes loudly. The girls kept glancing at the men of C5 every so often as Iseul worked on finishing her lunch.

“Oh, aren’t you friends with Mr. Park, Gyu?” Iseul brought up.

“Yeah, Hwa and I go way back,” Gyuri nodded.

“Wait, seriously? I thought you were kidding,” Minkyung said with shock.

“No, I’m serious. We went to college together.”

“So is he why you have this job?”

“Are you saying I bought my way into the company?” Gyuri asked angrily and grabbed a balled up napkin and threw it straight at Iseul, the napkin bouncing off of her forehead.

“No! I meant like was he a referral, not the other thing!” Iseul cried as she shielded herself from more of Gyuri’s balled up napkins.

Gyuri calmed down then answered honestly, “Actually, I didn’t even know he worked for this company. It was a happy coincidence.”

“Aw, how cute! Do I smell an office romance?” Minkyung asked, her voice getting high with excitement, to which Gyuri and Iseul responded with the most disgusted looks on their face. “Damn, okay. You guys didn’t have to make those faces.”

“Hwa was my upperclassman in college, and now he’s like a brother to me. There is no way I’m dating him,” Gyuri responded passionately, thus ending the debate of her relationship with Mr. Park.

“Okay, I want to know. If you had to choose a guy from C5 to date, who would you choose?”

Both Minkyung and Gyuri answered immediately at the same time.

“Mr. Kang.”

“Mr. Jeong.”

“I want justification!” Iseul declared, her eyes sparkling.

“Well, I’ve had a massive crush on Mr. Kang ever since I started working here,” Gyuri explained.

“Mr. Jeong’s very attractive… I see his face at least four or five times a day. My heart swoons each time,” Minkyung admitted honestly, earning yet another eye roll from Iseul.

“Kyung I get because he’s your boss, but Gyu, you don’t see Mr. Kang, like, ever. I thought Mr. Choi would be your choice,” Iseul said mildly surprised.

“Absolutely the fuck not. Definitely not him,” Gyuri nearly gagged.

“Jesus, that’s a strong reaction…”

“No, it’s just… He’s just the most arrogant, obnoxious jerk. Like, if he was just telling me to do my work better, then it’d be fine and I wouldn’t be so mad… But he keeps shooting down all of my ideas during meetings because he thinks the client won’t like it, but then Mr. Jung lets me pitch it anyway, and the client either agrees with Mr. Choi or with me. And, if they agree with Mr. Choi, he’s always super fucking smug. If they agree with me, then he takes it out on me by making me work super fucking late to make sure the complete proposal is fucking spotless. I hate it.”

The other two girls went silent as Gyuri finished her rant. After a moment of silence, Iseul cleared her throat and said, “Alright, I’m sorry I asked…”

“Sorry. It’s just… That guy really knows how to push my buttons.”

“Well, the things you said about him just sounds like a boss doing his job. I don’t really get the anger,” Minkyung pointed out.

“You should hear the way he says it. It’s fucking annoying.”

As if on cue, C5 walked past their table again, this time on their way out of the cafeteria. The three girls stood up and bowed once again before taking their seats. Minkyung kept an eye on the men as they exited, and once they were all out of the cafeteria, she said in a hushed tone to her friends, “You know what’s crazy? Out of all the C5 guys, Mr. Choi is the most popular.”

“What the fuck?! Why?!” Gyuri said a notch too loudly.

“You don’t have to sound that shocked, Gyu. He is a part of C5,” Iseul responded quietly in an effort to get the angry girl to calm down.

“Why is he the most popular? That makes no sense to me.”

“Mr. Choi is the most mysterious out of the five, apparently. Like, no one knows anything about his personal life or interests or anything. He seems to be crazy talented and can do pretty much anything, not to mention he has amazing people and talking skills. He’s dedicated and driven and pays attention to the smallest of details not just in work but with people, too. The other day, Jinah from the IT department got the tiniest fucking hair trim, and Mr. Choi noticed and complimented her almost immediately. She was all giddy the rest of the day,” Minkyung explained in great detail.

“So he notices thing. Big deal.”

“His nickname is “The Gold Standard,” Gyu. He’s valuable and unattainable. Most of the girls in the company are obsessed with him.”

“Good lord…” Iseul rolled her eyes yet again.

“I always thought Mr. Kang or Mr. Kim was the most mysterious…” Gyuri whispered half to herself.

“Nope. It’s Mr. Choi.”

“I refuse to believe that… But fine. Whatever. Everyone loves him. Yay.”

On that sarcastic note, Gyuri got up. Minkyung followed, causing Iseul to panic. She shoved the rest of her food in her mouth and followed her friends out of the cafeteria, the three of them throwing their garbage away on their way out. Iseul chewed as quickly as she could while the three girls waited for the elevator.

“At the end of the day, none of it matters. We’re here to work, not date,” Gyuri said with determination.

“True,” Minkyung validated.

“Does that mean you’re going to give up on your crushes?” Iseul asked after managing to swallow without choking.

“Nope!” Minkyung responded cheerily.

“I’m still going to crush on him even if there’s no way in hell we’ll get together,” Gyuri added.

With a quiet ding, the elevator arrived, and the girls entered. They each pressed the button for their floor and continued to talk animatedly as the doors closed slowly.

“Oh, don’t forget, ladies. The company dinner is tonight,” Minkyung reminded.

“Fuck… I forgot… Do you think I’ll have to stay late?” Iseul sighed dramatically.

“It’s a company dinner. I’m sure Mr. Kang will drag your department to dinner,” Gyuri assured the girl.

“I hope so. I want free food and booze.”

The other two girls laughed heartily at Iseul declaration. Gyuri’s floor arrived first. She waved at the other two as she got out of the elevator and made her way back to her desk slowly. When she arrived and sat in her desk chair, she let out a massive sigh. She really didn’t want to return to work. Her current client was extremely picky— even more than his royal highness Mr. Choi San— which meant that her proposal had to be flawless if she wanted to avoid another late night at the office.

After looking over her proposal for the umpteenth time, Gyuri turned to her boss and whined, “Boss... Do you think Mr. Choi will approve of this?”

“Let me take a look,” her boss, Mr. Jung Wooyoung, said as he got up. “This is for the Ring account, right?”

“Yeah,” Gyuri nodded and leaned back so Wooyoung could look at her computer screen.

Wooyoung leaned over Gyuri’s shoulder as he looked at the proposal she had pulled up. He scrolled slowly and leaned into her screen closer, his tie falling over her shoulder. Gyuri couldn’t help but feel his tie— it was red and silk, and although she was wearing a blazer over her blouse, she could still feel how smooth it was over her shoulder and felt compelled to touch it with her fingertips.

“I think it looks great!” Wooyoung choked out and immediately leaned away, his tie slipping out of Gyuri’s fingers.

“Okay, good… If Mr. Choi rejects it, I’m going to scream.”

Unfortunately for Gyuri, that is exactly what he did, and that is exactly what happened.

“This is the exact same storyline as their previous music video! Not even a continuation, just the same story copy and pasted!” San roared as he stood up.

A couple of the people on the marketing team— including Gyuri, San, and Wooyoung— were sitting in the conference room going over Gyuri’s proposal for the Ring account and other items on the agenda. Gyuri and San were at each others’ throats, which seemed to be a normal occurrence given that everyone else at this meeting didn’t even bother trying to stop the two even when they started swearing at each other.

“Are you shitting me?! It is a continuation! The last storyline was about the relationship, and this one is about the break up!” Gyuri pointed at the screen behind her.

“Then why is the plot just covering the same things that happened in the last fucking MV? You just want to put the last one in flashback and not record anything new this time?!”

“Flashback is important! And, like I showed here, here, and here, we’d be spacing it out throughout the song, so the MV will still be the duration of the song and a little longer! We did this for the Sunrise account!”

“Listen, the fans can just go watch the old MV for flashback if they want! Get the views up that way! Redo this.”

San stood up, indicating that the meeting was over, but Gyuri wasn’t done.

“No!” Gyuri shot back, causing San to freeze in his tracks. “The fans are fans! They’ll go rewatch the whole storyline again no matter what! If we want the MV to make sense, you need to keep the flashbacks! We’re adding, not copying and pasting!”

“Go take out the flashback parts and let me know if the story is still confusing—“

“Of course it’ll be confusing without it!” Gyuri was practically screeching.

“Then redo the entire storyline! Do something where we don’t have to flashback!”

“Why are you so anti-flashback?! It’s just reusing our old footage! There’s no extra cost or anything, and it’ll fulfill the client requirements!”

San finally slammed both his hands on the table as he ended the exchange with, “I am your boss! Do what the fuck I’m telling you do to!”

With that, the meeting finally ended, and the team went back to their desks. Gyuri flung herself into her chair and immediately got back to work while uttering profanities under her breath. Her desk-clump-mate, Yoon Hana, delicately placed a lollipop on Gyuri’s desk. She immediately snatched it and stuck the lollipop in her mouth as she typed and clicked furiously.

“Gyuri, maybe you should just agree with Mr. Choi every now and then so you don’t get so riled up,” she said softly. “You don’t want to get fired now, do you?”

“If that were the case, then Gyuri would’ve been fired a long time ago,” Jeon Chanmi, another one of their coworkers, walked past with a stack of prints. “You should’ve seen them during the Fever account. They were screaming at each other for all five music videos. It got so bad that Mr. Park worked on our floor until all five of them were done.”

“Don’t we still have the Fever account?”

“Yep. The MVs were so popular that it revived that company. Even though they scream at each other like that, the videos they make go viral every time.”

“And I came up with each of those concepts,” Gyuri grumbled. “He should learn to trust my judgement by now.”

“You came up with all of those concepts after bickering with him each time. If he didn’t push your buttons, then you wouldn’t be creating what you are,” Chanmi flicked the back of Gyuri’s head.

Gyuri curled her lip in disgust and focused on her work. She hated that Chanmi was right, and she hated that San did bring out the best in her.

“Keep up the good work?” Hana said in confusion.

“Yeah,” Gyuri huffed out without even looking away from her screen.

table of contents ♤ next chapter

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[mapileonxputellas]

Little Sister (Mapi Leon, Alexia Putellas x Reader)

Request and description found here. Wanted to get a little something out this weekend. 2.6k words. Enjoy x

TW: head injury and mentions of blood

Moving to the other side of the country at just 18 was one of the hardest but best decisions of your life. You’d impressed at your local team and the u17’s for Spain but you knew that you had to make the most of the current hype and consider all the options you had for your first professional contract. There was a lot of pressure having been described as a ‘generational talent’ but you couldn’t allow that to get to you.

When Barca come calling it is hard to say no, but you knew your parents wouldn’t be able to make the journey with you, they were both settled in their jobs, your younger siblings were settled in school and they couldn’t leave your elderly grandparents. But all of that left you just over a year ago stood outside the training centre in Barcelona knowing no-one and wondering if all this has been a mistake.

1 year ago….

You’d arrived at Barcelona a few days before pre-season started and though you’d originally planned to try and look round the city, you didn’t realise how lonely it would be on your own. So in a way you were grateful to meet the players but that meant meeting some of your idols as well. Being an out and out centre forward you’d grew to model your game on the efficiency of Hermoso, the creativity of Putellas and the delivery of León.

They were all behind those doors, waiting for everyone to gather but it was almost as if you couldn’t move your legs. The nerves had paralysed you, but you were brought out of the trance by a soft hand on your back.

“Hola.” It was fair to say you were embarrassed that the one and only Alexia Putellas had been the one to catch you in this state. “You must be Y/N.”

“Hola. Yes that’s me.” You confirmed shaking her hand.

“What are you doing out here then, come inside. We really don’t bite, well other than Patri. Come on”

If it hadn’t of been for Alexia you probably would have been stood there all day, but she was the one to take you inside, introduce you to everyone and make sure you were settled in the dressing room. Which is where you met Mapi, as she insisted you call her when you stumbled out Maria, who took you under her wing on the training pitch. Partnering up with you for the exercises and talking tou through what was going to happen next.

“Here’s our numbers.” Alexia passed me a piece of paper as the three of us walked outside after training. “If you need anything or just need someone to speak to please use them. Iit must be daunting being here alone.”

“Thank you.”

“How are you getting home?” Mapi asked.

“Oh, I was planning on walking. It’s only like 20 minutes.”

“Nonsense, come on I’ll give you a lift.” Mapi almost instructed me, taking the bag out of my hands as she walked to the cars lined up outside. “I’ll pick you up for training tomorrow as well.”

“Thank you, really you don’t have to do this.”

“I know, now come on.”

…..

That became the routine of your pre-season, Mapi would pick you up and drop you off after training. You went out for the team bonding sessions and made friends with the girls closer to your age, but by the end of the night you were always found with one or both of them making sure you got home safely.

You made several cameos in the warm up games, but you knew you would have to be patient and just wait for your time to come. That came sooner than you thought it would as in the final training session, Jenni appeared to pull up at the end and Jonatan pulled you to the side.

“Jenni cannot play tomorrow so we’re going to put you in from the start. Are you ok with that or do you want me to change formation? Are you ready?”

“I’m ready, I promise I won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t.”

So that’s how you found yourself at 18 years old making your debut for Barcelona in the first match of the season, granted it was a team who barely scraped relegation last season but it was an opponent none the less.. With that came the expectation and therefore the nerves as you made your last few preparations to get ready.

“Give me those.” Alexia shooed your hands away as you tried to lace up your boots for what was probably the fifth time, each time the laces twisting in your hands and not quite falling right. “Look at me. I watch you every day in training and you’re amazing, I’m not lying. Just go out there, be yourself and enjoy it. You’ll be fine.”

“I don’t want to let you all down.” You admitted.

“You won’t.” Mapi obviously was listening in and slid her arm around your shoulder. “No-one can ask for anything more than you just trying your best. Run hard and don’t let your nerves stop you.”

“Thank you, both of you.”

“No worries baby.”

Everything was a whirlwind after that moment, from walking out onto the pitch to giving it your all in the first half to help the team get 3-0 up. You’d tried to get on the end of a few crosses and driven at the defence but nothing was just quite working.

The manager kept his faith in you and left you on the field for the second half and finally your hard work was rewarded. A free kick was awarded just outside the box and Mapi was stood over it. Not being the tallest you were stood in line with the back post on the edge of the box and watched as the defender got her head to it but only cleared the ball as far as you. It was like time stood still as you put as much power onto the ball as possible and watched it curve into the far corner of the net past the oblivious goalkeeper.

You were brought back down to Earth as a pair of arms wrapped around your waist, immediately giving Mapi away as the culprit, flinging you into the air. “You did it!”

After everyone else had congratulated you, Alexia and Mapi wrapped their arms around your shoulder to walk back to the other side.

“See I told you, just believe in yourself.” Alexia said.

“I couldn’t have done it without you two.”

“We know.”

….

Fast forward a year and the bond between the three of you had only grew stronger. When you couldn’t afford to go home for Christmas, Alexia’s family had invited you into their family home for the day and you were a regular at Mapi’s for a takeaway after a game. The two of them were very protective of you but they were also the first to congratulate you as you made progress throughout your first season and became known as the impact substitution.

The heartbreak of Alexia’s ACl injury gave you the opportunity to repay every favour she’d given to you, keeping her company in days immediately before and after her surgery, running to the store whenever she needed anything and trying to take her mind off the hard journey she had ahead.

The second season was where you knew you had to make an impact, Jenni leaving left the door open for you to make a firm impression in the league and you knew you had to step it up in training. Everyone noticed a difference in you, from your professionalism in preparing for every session to the intensity and discipling you trained with, it was obvious how focused you were and how much you wanted to improve.

It was eerily silent as Mapi and Alexia pulled up outside of the training centre, the two of them running late as they had been chosen to attend a league sponsor event.

As they were walking over they noticed Patri and Irene stood by the doors with a look on their face that they couldn’t quite read. “Hey what are you two doing out here?” Alexia asked as they tried to enter the building but were stopped by the two of them blocking the entrance.

“Oh we managed to finish training early so we thought we’d save you the trip inside, you can go home.” Irene told the two but her eyes were elsewhere, as if she was looking out for something behind them.

“We can go? We don’t even have to speak to Jonathan, does he not want to know how the event went?”

“Oh I’m sure you can tell him tomorrow.”

Alexia was beginning to grow annoyed as Patri once again blocked her path inside. “Cut the crap, what’s going on? You two are acting suspicious.”

“Nothing.” But the look of panic on their faces became visible as ambulance sirens grew lounder and louder behind them until an ambulance came into view. “Shit.”

“What’s going on? Has something happened?”

“We didn’t want you to worry, she’s in the safest hands and we knew that you two would only panic and she needs to stay calm.”

“Who needs to stay calm?” Mapi asked but was just met with silence. “Who?”

“Y/N.”

Patri and Irene gave up the fight at that point, almost running to keep up with the ambulance crew and the other two players as they raced through onto the field whilst trying to explain the situation. “She was trying head the ball and collided with the post, she’s got quite a big cut on her hairline and she started complaining about her neck so they’ve tried to stabilise her neck. She’s 19, we’ve tried to reassure her but she’s very panicky.”

“You should have called us sooner.” Mapi was angry at the whole situation but at the moment Patri was taking the frustration. “We could have reassured her, she’s probably frightened.”

“We didn’t have much of a choice.”

Mapi and Alexia broke into a sprint as they came into view of the situation with the medical department around you and the team watching on from a few metres away.

“Mapi…” Irene tried to stop her from going over but it was no use as the defender shook her off.

“No, she needs me.”

The situation was a lot more serious than they ever could have expected, blood completely coated your face and shirt as one of the doctors continued to apply pressure to the wound. Another one holding onto your neck as they tried to talk to you.

“Hey babe.” Mapi and Alexia knelt down next to one side of you so the medical staff could continue on the other side, your eyes immediately finding their own as they gripped your hands. Tears evident in your eyes as you squeezed their hands. “Can’t leave you alone for one minute.”

“It really hurts.”

“I know it does, but the doctors are here and you’re going to be fine.” Alexia reassured her. “Where’s the pain coming from?”

“Mostly my head now.”

“That’s good.” Mapi could see the massive gash on your head as the paramedics tried to wrap it up. They’d seen enough head injuries now to know that the majority of the worry right now would be coming from the neck situation and any potentially career threatening injury there. “Just keep talking to us, keep that neck still and they’ll sort everything out.”

“I was speaking to my mum this morning and she wanted to invite you round at the weekend.” Alexia tried to distract her from the situation. “I think you’re definitely her new favourite daughter.”

“She’s the best.”

“Bagheera has been lost without you these last few weeks.” From looking out for Alexia, you’d started hanging out at Alexia’s place as a three rather than Mapi’s which left you missing a certain car. “She misses your cuddles.”

“Oh I love her.”

“Right we’re going to try and move her now and get her to the hospital.” The two girls looked up as the paramedic instructed everyone. “Is anyone coming to the hospital with us? Any family?”

“I’m not leaving her.” Mapi and Alexia both insisted. “We’re practically her family.”

“She has no immediately family in the area.” The club doctor confirmed. “These two will be able to calm her down the most.”

“Ok.”

……

The two of them didn’t leave your side, from moving you onto the ambulance, to arriving at the hospital and getting the initial checks done. Thankfully the scans on your neck had come back clear and they put the initial pain down to the impact of the collision with the post.

They wanted to keep you in longer to check for any longer lasting concussion damage but the final nurse finally left the three of you alone after stitching up the wound leaving you with a giant bandage across your forehead. It must have been in the early hours of the morning now but neither of them had made an attempt to leave yet.

“Wow, we leave you along for one session and this happens?” Alexia teased as the two sat either side of you finally alone after the long day.

“I don’t think that goal post and I can be friends anymore.” You tried to joke but the tears only started again. “I thought that was it for me today. I’ve heard about people suffering from spinal injuries and it only ever ends with their careers ending. I thought that was it and there was so much blood. I could see the panic in their eyes as they tried to treat me and the blood was just soaking everything.”

“It will take more than a goal post to stop you from becoming the best.” Alexia said. “Stop worrying about that now, all the checks have been double checked and everything has come back clear. I know it’s frightening in that moment but thankfully we’ve got through it.”

“We’re just upset we weren’t there for you,” You could see the struggle in Mapi’s eyes as the rarely emotional girl got upset. “I promise if you ever need me again then I’ll be there.”

“Don’t worry.” You were the one doing to the reassuring now. “You’re here now and that’s all that matters. I don’t think I would have liked to have been Irene and Patri trying to stop you though.”

“Mapi almost charged them down.”

“Are you feeling ok now? Do you need me to get you some more painkillers?” Mapi asked.

“No, it’s more just like a dull headache now. Thank you both so much for today, you don’t know how much I needed you both today and to know you’ve stayed with me this entire time…”

“And like I’ve told you a million times before we’re your sisters now.” Alexia reassured her, climbing up onto the bed, so you could rest your head on her shoulder. “I told you on that first day we’d be here if you ever needed us and you needed us today.”

“I love you both.”

“We love you too.” Mapi said, not quite managing to squeeze onto the bed but she held your hands together. “Just don’t scare me like that again.”

“I’ll try not to.”

[astroluvr]

Angel Girl

summary: you and jack are in the process of getting divorced- on your terms, but when he sees you again at a party, things take a left.

warnings: there is smut- like 2/3 smut, so minors DNI!! for everyone else, this story contains: jealous!jack, toxic!jack, slight degrading, slight choking, car sex, ass slapping, humiliation, and i'm pretty sure that's it lol

a/n: this is my first and last time ever writing smut and i also don't really read smut, so if it sucks, you can tell me. it also took me a month to write this, so i apologize for any awkwardness and any inconsistency throughout and the sloppy ending. this will more than likely be the worst smut you'll ever come across, but that's probably a good thing. i hope you enjoy!!

People told the two of you when you first got eloped after a year of being together that you were moving too fast, but your hearts and minds were impenetrable forces in the fever pitch of your love. From there, things moved even faster- and eventually in different directions.  

It wasn’t that you two fell out of love, but instead realizing it just wasn’t for the best. You gave up the battle long before Jack did, despite how much it hurt you to. You were young and there was still so much that you two had to offer to the world before you drained yourselves with the effort of keeping a flame alive.  

You found a new confidence and security within yourself and your personal ventures that you didn’t know you lost and Jack’s career flourished over the months. Nothing slowed down for either of you afterwards.  

It was a hot summer night somewhere in a rich neighborhood where people had houses dedicated to throwing parties. You didn’t even know the owner of the house, but it was an extended invitation that you weren’t going to miss out on. Claiming it was in the name of your promotion, you put on the hottest outfit in your closet and made yourself look as good as you felt.  

All the windows and doors were open and letting in the muggy air. Your body was sticky and even the wine cooler in your hand was starting to sweat. You giggled to your friend as you held it up to your head and leaned back against a wall with her.  

“This is nice.” you laughed after she tipped her own drink in your mouth. You grimaced at the taste and remembered how partial Angie was to strong drinks.  

“Yeah, I feel like I never see you anymore.”  

“You live right around the corner, Ang.”  

“Yeah, but you’re always working and stressing out over the divorce.”  

“Separation.” you corrected her quietly and she gave you a side eye. “And I’m not stressed about it. It’s just that every time I try to talk to Jack about it... he clams up. Talks about getting back together and he gets weird.”  

“Weird how?” Angie asked, and the moment she saw a frown form on your lips and your shoulder slump, she stopped you short. “As a matter of fact, I don’t want to hear it. We’ll discuss it when we’re hungover tomorrow. Tonight, you need to catch a body, girl.”  

You laughed at her bluntness and grew warmer than you already were. “Angie!”  

“No, I am sick and tired of hearing about your bitch-ass ex-husband-to-be.” she set her cup down and ushered you to take a long sip out of your own drink. “He stressed you out enough when you were together.”  

After giving her a quick peck on the cheek, you grabbed her hand and danced your way into the center of the party, where the music blasted and sweaty bodies grinded against each other’s. You had no intention of going home with anybody besides Angie for the mandatory night-out sleepover, but that didn’t mean you weren’t feeling yourself or the eyes on you as you danced to the music.  

With Angie as your hype woman, you slowly worked your way closer to the floor with her chanting behind you. You were all laughs and giggles as you danced and traded places with Angie as she pulled out moves that were more advanced than your own. It was when the two of you were hugging on to each other while yelling out moves that the crowd wafted away and a few people pulled out their phones.  

You couldn’t quite catch who was at the door, but it was obvious that you were distracted because you totally missed the deep voice that drew your attention.  

“Y/N.” Angie hissed, unravelling from you as a handsome man came into view. “Sorry, she hates crowds.” You glanced at Angie for her lame excuse, but she shrugged aggressively.  

“Hi, I’m Y/N.” you smiled politely, and held out your hand. “Nice to meet you.”  

The man in front of you looked down at your hand with a smile and you began to retract it in embarrassment, but he caught it quickly and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. With a soft giggle, you pulled it from his loosening grip and clasped your hands behind your back. Angie caught your eye over his shoulder and with a quiet whistle, she disappeared back onto the dance floor.  

“I’m Garret.”  

“Hi, Garret.” you said quietly, feeling shy all of a sudden.  

“I can’t quite hear you over the music.” his said, and you went to repeat yourself, but he tilted his head back to the kitchen. “Why don’t we go somewhere quieter? I want to hear everything you have to say.”  

“Okay,” you agreed, nodding your head and letting him lead you away.  

You weren’t nearly wasted, so you indulged yourself in another wine cooler that sat in a cooler behind the bar. You held one out for Garret, but he shook his head. “I’m a scotch kind of guy.”  

“Good to know.” you smiled at him as he leaned back. “Too strong for me.”  

Garret laughed as he picked up a bottle of it and poured it into a shot glass. “I’m surprised. You seem like the fun-loving type.”  

“I don’t come out to stuff like this often. My bones can’t keep up with it.” you joked and Garret laughed. “What about you?”  

“Um, I’m not really a party guy. We were just supposed to be bar-hopping.”  

“That’s how they get you.” you sighed jokingly and Garret laughed.  

“I like you.”  

“Well, thank you. I’m really glad our paths crossed tonight.”  

“Do you want to dance with me?” he asked, and you nodded setting down your drink and following him back into the center of the house.  

Your hips were already moving just a few inches away from his front as he held your hand behind your head. You laughed when he spun you around and tugged you close to his chest. He stared down at you underneath the dark lights and a surge of confidence ran through your body and you licked your lips before getting close to him.  

“Do you wanna get out of here?” he whispered in your ear as you grinded against him, trailing your hands along his sides.  

You tilted your head coyly with a teasing pout. “But we just started dancing.”  

“I know, but I don’t know if I’ll make it through this.” he chuckled when you crouched the slightest bit and looked at him through your eyebrows.  

“Hang in there, tiger.” you breathed out, and the man’s breath hitched as you continued your sensual grinding.  

There was no doubt about your effect on him as the sweat glistened on his forehead under the lights while he stared at you slack-jawed. You felt powerful as you worked your way around him, feeling the way he flirted with boundaries each time he carefully placed a hand anywhere below your waist. You smiled at him invitingly, but he was still too scared.  

As you stood up straight, pressing your chest to his and getting dangerously close to his lips, you saw a head of the unruliest curls. Garret continued to stare as you kept your fiery gaze on the tall figure that cut through the crowd with confidence and an air of dominance that made your heart flutter. Your hold on Garret’s shoulders loosened when Jack locked eyes with you.  

“Hey, do you want to go somewhere else?” you didn’t give Garret time to answer when you started to walk away, causing him to follow you.  

“Uh, does m-my place sound good? Or I could get us a nice hotel?” you turned around to give him an answer- being that you had no interest in either of those places, but a loud call of your name stole your attention.  

“Y/N!” with just a few feet away from the front door, where traffic was steady, Jack was approaching you both with an eager grin. “Hey, baby.”  

“Don’t call me that.” you immediately muttered, much to Garret’s confusion.  

“Do you know him?” Garret asked you, putting up a macho charade as Jack got closer. “Hey, man, if you’re drunk, you need to stay away from her.”  

Jack’s smile got wider as he looked down at you with an incredulous grin before looking back at Garret- whom he towered over, and taking in his puffed chest and pursed lips before laughing.  

“I’m her husband, goofy, who the fuck are you?”  

“Jack.” you hissed, and he looked down at you with a shrug.  

“You’re married! You were going to let me take you home with your husband here?” Garret looked appalled and all you wanted to do was pinch Jack for stirring this up.  

You turned around, but not before throwing Jack an angry look. “No, I’m sorry. Jack and I aren’t an item.”  

“But he’s your husband?”  

“Legally, technically, yes.”  

“Yo, I’m not into that kind of stuff. I’m not a freak like that.” Garret took a step back and your cheeks warmed.  

“No, we’re married, but only in the eyes of the court.” you tried again, but it was useless.  

“I think I’m going to pass on this one. It was nice to meet you, Y/N. If you weren’t married, we would’ve hit it off, I’m sure.”  

“I’m sorry about all of this.” you said, but he was long gone before you could quite finish your sentence.  

With a huff, you turned around to Jack who had on the tightest white tee shirt and a pair of blue jeans. You weren’t sure if it was the deprivation getting to you, but he got hotter every time you saw him. Of course, perhaps that was because of his rigorous training to get in better shape for tour or whatever genetics he had, but it was irresistible, which is why it took you so long to remember you were supposed to be mad at him.  

“Hi, angel girl.” he said cheerfully, getting close enough for you to push your hands against. “I didn’t mean to mess with your boyfriend.”  

“You are so aggravating, Jack.” you shook your head, and scoffed at him.  

“I was just messing with him.” he defended, seeming more agitated than anything. “I didn’t tell him a single lie. We’re married.”  

“We’re over. It’s only paperwork.”  

“Paperwork that meant the world two years ago.” he mocked, before changing his demeanor in your silence. “You’re mad because now you think you aren’t gonna get laid?”  

The music seemed a lot louder before Jack arrived, and now he was taking over your senses. The black light and strobing LEDs were replaced by his darkened blue eyes, the smell of weed and sweat became his cologne, and all you could hear was his voice that deepened with every word that edged closer to his taunt.  

“I’m not doing this with you tonight.” you rejected him, turning around on your heel out of the door even though you had no way home outside of Angie who was playing beer pong on top of someone’s shoulders.  

Before you could even make it a few steps away, two large hands were clutching onto your waist and pulling you back. Your back met Jack’s chest, eliciting an involuntary shudder. Even though you didn’t even try to fight him, his grip got tighter and his beard grazed against your skin as he lowered his mouth closer to your ear.  

“Let’s go outside, hm? Because I’d love to know where this attitude is coming from.” he whispered, and you pursed your lips. “I’m not a fan of it, if I’m being honest.”  

“Jack, I-”  

“Outside, angel.” he let go of your waist and instead placed his hands on your arms, guiding you outside. 

You kept your head down as Jack navigated you to the door that was already open. A few people stood outside on the porch with drinks and smoke, and they greeted the star accordingly. If it wasn’t for him removing his hands to dap them up, you wouldn’t have realized how cold it was.  

“You alright?” he asked, when he put one of his hands on your lower back and you nodded.  

“Just cold.”  

“I’ll turn the heat on in the car.”  

You weren’t sure how he was able to do it. The way Jack was able to lock eyes with you and snub out the fire that you set inside the party came so naturally. You were nervous in a sense, but it seemed like time was moving too slow for your taste as he took long strides towards his Jeep that was parked a little further away from the rest of the cars.  

“I wasn’t going to sleep with him.” you said timidly, and Jack only spared you a quiet glance before looking up towards the moonlight.  

“I know, angel.”  

“How would you know that?” you frowned, stopping in your tracks when you remembered who were dealing with.  

The haze that his dominating presence wore off as you realized just who you were dealing with. A smug, cocky man who always expected to get his way. It only took Jack a few seconds to turn around and look you up and down with an amused smile playing on his face.  

“What are you doing?”  

“Not this! I’m not getting in the car with you, so you can sweet-talk me into a dinner or something and then turn it into us getting back together. I’m done, Jack. I’m done with all of it.”  

Jack didn’t say anything further, he only continued to walk towards his car.  

“Don’t do that, Jack. You know how much I hate when you walk away when I’m talking to you.” you started to follow him against your better judgement. “Jack!”  

“You said you don’t want to do this, so we won’t. If you want to go back to that party and dance with random guys that aren’t man enough to fuck you, go right ahead.”  

“Who do you think you are?!” you got closer to him and Jack glared down at you. “We are separated, Jack, the only thing that’s left is to sign the papers. We’re over, so you don’t have the right to walk into my life when you feel like it and talk about who you think I might be fucking.”  

Jack’s nostrils flared before he grabbed you again and pinned you against the outside of the car roughly. “I’m your husband.”  

“That doesn’t mean anything to me anymore.” you told him finally, straining as he got closer to you, his eyes on your lips and yours on his. “We’re over.”  

“You want to know what I’m over? What I'm sick and tired of?”  

“What?” you asked roughly and Jack licked his lips before straightening his posture and looking down at you.  

“I’m fed up with this fucking attitude.” he told you before grabbing your wrists and tugging you against his chest. You didn’t have a choice but to look up at him. “And I'm really tired of your mouth. And I’m sick and tired of you acting like you don’t miss me, angel.”  

His last sentence was low as his firm frown turned into a smirk. You willed yourself to not have a reaction, although Jack’s hold on your mind and body was making a fool out of you.  

“Still, though, I want to apologize.” he released your wrists and gave you a falsely sympathetic look. You didn’t say anything, given that Jack had taken over the moment- perhaps one he’d been waiting on. “For scaring off your dick for the night. Wouldn’t have been as good as mine, but we both know that. So let me make it up to you.”  

“What are you talking about?”  

“You need it, angel girl.” Jack laughed out in amusement and you glared at him with all the dignity you could muster. “Fuck, I need it.”  

When you didn’t immediately protest, Jack’s hands attached to your hips that he used to press you further against the car. His lips suckled to each sensitive spot on your skin masterfully. Your own hands fell to the metal of the car as you became even more determined to not allow Jack to win your body just yet.  

It became harder to purse your lips as his beard irritated every body part he nipped or kissed at, and his hands gripped your hips and waist. Jack must’ve taken notice, which wasn’t surprising, because when he looked up at your face from your neck, he couldn’t help but laugh and run his thumb against your lips.  

“Damn, it’s like that?” he chuckled, shaking his head before kissing your chin and standing straight to look you in your eyes. “Come on, Y/N, we both know that mouth makes much prettier noises than saying shit you don’t mean.”  

You kept quiet once more and Jack raised his eyebrows before talking. “Maybe I’ve lost my touch, then. Forgot all the spots that had you falling apart just a few months ago. Is that it? Because I don’t want to embarrass myself, baby, if I’m not making you feel good, stop me now.”  

“No.” was all you could utter, and it was clear you would’ve been better off keeping your mouth shut because Jack only teased you further.  

“No, I’m not making you feel good or no, don’t stop?”  

“Don’t stop.” your voice was airy and complacent, feeding into his irritating ego.  

“What was that?” he got closer, getting his ear closer to your mouth.  

“I said, don’t stop, Jack.”  

“Why not? Why don’t you want me to stop?” he egged you on further and you whined childishly. “That’s not an answer.”  

Jack’s smug blue eyes landed on you again, and you let out a heavy breath.  

“I don’t want you to stop because I want you to fuck me. I want you to keep making me feel good.” you twisted your foot into the gravel as you faced Jack’s pensive expression. “Please, Jack.”  

“There she is.” Jack grinned and another sigh escaped from deep within your chest. “Want me?”  

“Yes, please.”  

Jack bathed in your submissiveness, his hard-on becoming painful when you became something resembling putty as he opened his front door and sent the chair back before sliding in and pulling you onto his lap. You were sat right against his crotch and before you could even take a breather, he was tearing the fabric of your top.  

You gasped at the way things picked up so quickly, but Jack couldn’t be bothered to slow down. Your head flew back and you hardly noticed the evening chill finding its way into the car.  

“Jack, p-people are gonna see.” you breathed out while he kissed along your breasts that were sitting in your lacy bra- that you were rather surprised he hadn’t ripped. Your top was still straggling on your arms as he palmed at your stomach.  

“I don’t care.” he gripped your hips when you leaned up at an effort to reach for the door and you whined. “It’ll tell everyone you’re mine, won’t it? Since you like to lead men on and make ‘em think you don’t already have someone taking care of you.”  

You wished you could dispute it, but even as much you declined and tried to make it clear that his “care” wasn’t necessary, you couldn’t. When you first broke up, Jack was rather subtle about making sure your car was kept up or you weren’t giving yourself a headache trying to figure out how you were going to pay your bills- although that was never really a problem for you, and you only contributed it to making things amicable.  

It was soon after that the few hundred dollars every other week, all kinds of pretty clothes being sent to you, and transfers to get yourself ‘something nice’ became overbearing. No matter how much you appreciated it all, it wasn’t very helpful when it came to trying to have Jack understand that it wasn’t his place anymore.  

Once you blocked him on all everything, and started returning things to sender, Jack got to you through your friends. You had no clue how many times your friends secretly swiped their cards with the money Jack sent to treat you before you caught on.  

“I keep telling you, Jack. You don’t need to do that.”  

“Even if you keep trying to tell me that you’re not my wife, I married you and I made you a promise. No piece of paper will ever undo that.” he whispered, unclasping your bra and making you whine when he pulled it away slowly and the rest of your shirt fell by his feet. “I’m going to take care of you forever, whatever you could ever possibly want or need, I’ll make sure you have it.”  

One of the most damning things Jack could ever do to you, is talk. It didn’t even have to be dirty talk, not one lewd word had to fall from his lips for him to get what he wanted from you. Even towards the end when the arguments were tiring, he could hold your eye contact and lower his voice to a gravelly hilt, and you would be as good as gone.  

The same way he talked to calm you down was the same way he talked as he lifted up your skirt to bunch up right above your hips and inching his fingers up your inner thigh to meet your warm core. Your heart pounded and you swallowed as if you nervous and this was uncharted.  

“I can’t clean up all the mess I've made, sweetheart, I know that, but I can start here. I can start with you.”  

His words carried a layer of guilt and acknowledgment, and it wasn’t everything, it wasn’t going to be the first brick to build the house, but it was enough. It was enough for you to nod and spread your legs invitingly before leaning to kiss him.  

“Thank you, angel.”  

“Just this once, Jack.” you mumbled against his lips as he slid your underwear to the side and felt him hum against your lips. “Being serious.”  

“I know.” he said dismissively before capturing your lips at the same time his fingers slid into you.  

You hadn’t forgotten him or how it felt when he touched you. It was like relighting an old candle, the spark and fire that spread from the bottom of your was the same as it was all before. You writhed on his lap and Jack’s other hand wrapped around your lower back to keep you still. The sound of your arousal and loud moans filled the car as you rocked onto his fingers.  

“Fuck, Jack. Fuck.” you couldn’t help but let out a pant and kiss him hotly once more before grinding into him.  

“I still got it?”  

“Mmhmm.” you swallowed, gripping his wrist as he curled his fingers inside of you. “Jack, this- this isn’t enough. I need you.”  

“You sure you can take it? You look like you’re about to cry.”  

“Shut up.” you uttered without thinking, and your and Jack’s eyes flickered onto each other’s at the same time. Yours were a lot more nervous, though, especially when he squinted and removed his fingers as you whined. “Jack, I’m-” 

“This mouth,” he interjected, licking his own lips and pushing his slick fingers into your mouth. You suckled at a lame attempt at avoiding his next move, but it was obviously no use when he clucked his tongue and pulled his fingers away. “It’s going to get you in a lot of trouble with me, angel. Keep trying to play brat and I swear, you’re going to come crawling back and begging me to fuck you again, and I know you don’t want that.”  

The tension was palpable as you stared at his stern expression. “Please, Jack. Please, baby.” you rolled your head desperately as you massaged uselessly at his shoulders. “C’mon.”  

He swallowed tensely before his chest tensed and one of his hands slipped down to put the seat back. You immediately took it as a chance to rub over his chest and trail your hands down to the strained fabric of his jeans that was right above your core grinding against Jack’s rough denim.  

“You’re all mine tonight, you know that, right?”  

“Mmhmm.” you hummed, palming him while you hissed as you elicited your own pleasure.  

Before you could fall into a decent groove, Jack’s large hand gripped your chin and forced you to look down at him. The street lights were no more than ambience lighting as they illuminated his features, capturing the light that escaped his hooded blue eyes, the gloss of his plump lips, and the shine that coursed through his hair. Beneath you, he was still yours. For as much as you pushed, he pulled.  

“Say that.” he muttered, low and raspy, while your mouth opened in close. 

“I’m yours tonight.” you whispered back and Jack smirked before bucking up his hips into your hand.  

“Alright, then.”  

With the nod towards his visibly hard crotch, you unbuttoned his pants with jittery hands, and looked up at him to find him still waiting for you to do something. When you paused for a moment too long, growing nervous, Jack’s husky voice filled the car to bring you reassurance when he leaned up to kiss your forehead.  

“You don’t have to. I won’t think anything of it.”  

“I want to.” you breathed out, and Jack raised his eyebrows. “It’s just been so long and I don’t want to... I don’t want it to be less than you expect.”  

“You think I’m worried about how good it is when this is the closest, I've gotten to you in months, pretty girl?” Your cheeks warmed at his sentiment that made you shake your head as Jack’s hands trailed up your bare torso as he relaxed you with his touch. “I get to touch you, that’s all I care about.”  

His thumbs grazed your peaked nipples and you released a choked-up moan as you leaned towards into his body. Jack rumbled at the back of his throat when he released himself from his pants, and felt you slide against his tip. The both of you moaned and gripped each other, Jack’s hand going to squeeze at your hip and your own to his bicep.  

“Fuck, Y/N.” he huffed, gripping his shaft in his hand as he looked up at you. “You’re still sure?”  

“Yes.” you mumbled, clutching the hem of his white shirt in excitement.  

You both held eye contact as you lifted up on your ankles to allow Jack to guide his length towards your center. You pursed your lips and let your eyes slip shut as you held onto Jack’s shoulders and waited for the inevitable sting of the stretch overtake you.  

“Fuck.”  

“Oh, my- Jack.”  

Your head fell and Jack helped lower your body to meet him. Both of your hearts were pounding in slow succession as Jack lifted back up to grind you against him and kiss along you.  

“Missed the way you sat on this dick all pretty, baby.” you tilted your head back and quivered salaciously while he marked the column your neck. “Bet you missed the way it felt all in you, too, didn’t you?”  

“Yes, Jack.”  

“Yeah? Ride me like you mean it, then. Like you’re so sorry for being so mean to your husband.” he said as if he were a victim.  

If you weren’t in such a daze, you would’ve shaken your head and said something snarky, but the only response you could offer to the way he rolled his hips and gripped your ass. You nodded and leaned up, placing your hands on his sides while looking down at him.  

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous, baby.” he told you, fondling your breasts as you leaned back and set your pace and immersed yourself in the full feeling that Jack provided.  

“You’re so big, J.” you rushed out through your moans and Jack smirked. “Fuck.”  

You readjusted yourself to a more comfortable position and halted when the angle hit all the right spots. You cursed under your breath and Jack laughed as he grinded his own hips to match your languid rhythms.  

“You’ve had so much mouth, angel, what happened?” he teased you condescendingly and you huffed when his two fingers found your clit and circled the bud even slower. Your mouth fell open and your eyes were quickly drawn to Jack’s. “Has all of this been your really cruel way of saying, ‘fuck me, Jack’?”  

 “Jack.” you swallowed, picking up your pace as you bucked your hips desperately when he removed his fingers and stopped fucking you. “Jack, please, baby.”  

“All of that shit talk, and now look who’s fucking themselves.”  

You hadn’t realized how quickly you’d picked up, lifting yourself and bucking your hips for the slightest bit of stimulation. The buzz in your body was nothing compared to the pure shock Jack could send up and through you in a matter of seconds. You knew what you had to do would give Jack more satisfaction than the tight squeeze your hole was giving him- and that was saying a lot as he bit his own lip.  

“Please, Jack. Please, fuck me.” you begged, and you weren’t being granted a second of mercy as he sat up on his elbows and quirked an eyebrow curiously. “I can’t do it; I need you to.”  

A tear slipped from your eye in a wretched attempt at pulling at the string that kept the ball in your stomach together. You bounced like there was nothing left for you when you got from on top of him, and it was almost enough to persuade him. Almost.  

“Ask your husband to fuck you.” he told you, holding your chin and looking right into your teary eyes as you ground against him hopelessly.  

“Please, fuck me, Jack.”  

“Ask the man that gave you his last name to fuck you.”  

“Please, Jack.”  

“Is that what you want, Mrs. Harlow? You want me to be a good husband, right?”  

“Y-Yes.” you pleaded, your hips growing sore and Jack’s hand around your chin finding a different place to squeeze right underneath your chin.  

You looked at him and gripped his wrist that was connected to the hand around your neck. A tear slipped from your eye and down his arm, making him grin.  

“Awe, poor Mrs. Harlow.” he said as you angled yourself forward with a new angle. “I want you to ask me to fuck you like you mean it, angel. This little act-” he tsked as if you weren’t giving your all into an orgasm. “It just isn’t doing it for me. Literally.”  

Although he was lying straight through his teeth, it was almost embarrassing how you tugged at his wrist and leaned forward to capture his lips. It caught Jack off guard to a point where he had to brace your hips and chase away all that you had worked up to keep himself from bursting. You didn’t mind though as you continued to grind against his tip and tug at his hair while pulling away for untraceable pants of air.  

“I want you, Jack. All I want is for you to fuck me. Just this once.” you panted and Jack’s cheeks flushed when you sank back onto “I’m all yours, Jack, I promise. Please, please.”  

Jack didn’t let a moment of silence hang in the air before he thrusted upwards and made you gasp in shock. He had you reaching behind him and scratching at his rough denim in vain with the force and speed that he was filling you. His grunts followed your moans as you leaned back against the wheel and hung on to his forearms that were steadying your hips.  

“Fuck!” you yelped out, your breasts bouncing against his face when he rested his forehead against your collarbones.  

“You have- shit, no clue how bad I’ve got it for you still.” he said, driving into you until your eyes were rolling back and you could hardly process his words over the pure euphoria and skin against skin. “You’re not anyone else’s to touch besides mine, you got that?”  

You couldn’t muster any response besides a lazy nod and hitched breath, which was in no world acceptable to Jack when he nipped at your chest and slapped the skin of your ass hard.  

“You hear me?”  

“Mm, yes.” you nodded, and Jack licked his lips before crashing them against yours.  

“Don’t you ever forget who your husband is. Don’t ever forget your last name is Harlow. Don’t ever forget who’s making you see stars on their dick. The man you married.”  

“I won’t. You’re my husband, Jack, I know.” you whispered in his ear and his hips stuttered at the sweet words.  

It all came to you at once, a black flash and Jack registered it before you could. “Hold it.”  

“I can’t, baby.” you whined, grinding your clit against a prominent vein for a chill up your spine.  

“Hold it, angel. Or I swear-”  

“Please don’t stop, Jack.” you sighed, and he grunted through his attempt to hold back.  

“I won’t.”  

Your actions became lazy as your orgasm approached you, and your arousal was coating the entirety of Jack’s cock. You dropped your head to his forehead and whimpered until he finally lost the pace he’d set. His fingers finding your clit once more bought you back to the tide and your legs shook as your climax wracked through your body moments before Jack shot into you.  

“Holy-”  

“Fuck.” he finished, fucking into you for a moment before finally reeling back.  

Your legs gave out around him and your head fell to his shoulder while he kissed the hot, sticky skin he could find. You wrapped your arm around his neck and rode out the wave of pleasure before he was gripping the bottom of your thighs and kissing you gently to coax your attention.  

“Lift up.”  

“Jack,” you pouted, and he ran a hand through his bed of curls. “I’m so tired.”  

“I know, but you can’t stay like this.” he told you and you huffed as he moved you back to his lap and his heart pattered when you fisted the back of his chain and lifted off of him. “I think I have a clean towel in here. Clean you up real quick.”  

Jack made light work of your tired body and settled you to his passenger seat when he was done with a kiss. “Can I go back home with you?”  

Jack pulled away from the closeness, but he was drawn back by your hand still playing in your hair. It was something he missed, the feeling of your fingers mindlessly twisting around in his curls and brushing the strands back into place before messing with another section. He missed the moments where if you weren’t in each other’s skins, it wasn’t enough.  

“Of course, you can.” he reassured, pecking your swollen lips. “Are you okay, though? Would you feel better going back to your house?”  

“Your house.” you said again, this time a lot softer and Jack nodded, relishing in the feeling of your hand trailing from the back of his neck to his cheek before it found your lap.  

You sat in the white tee shirt that he was wearing and your miniskirt that was around your waist just moments ago. You felt more content with Jack than you did in a long time, in his passenger seat, and his clothes. You felt like you were his again.  

|| 

Upon arriving to Jack’s house, memories flooded you again. The memories of arriving home late at night, where you could barely keep your head on your shoulders. The memories of rushing up to the front door to beat the other to the last of whatever desert that you were both craving. The memories of clothes not making it past the foyer.  

Those were the memories that hit you first as Jack got out to lead you to the door. The memories of how cold the house felt after an argument or how scary it was to be all alone in bed at night and Jack couldn’t be bothered to come home.  

Those were also the kind of memories that Jack kissed away from your mind from beside you, rubbing at your lower back in a limbo between sleep and conscious in the early morning. You could count out all the freckles on his nose and how many times he fluttered his eyelashes to fight the day ahead. You also couldn’t think of the last time you felt so content somewhere.  

You had been awake for no more than hour and turned around to face Jack not long ago. You started off with your head against his chest, but when he twitched one too many times, you resorted to just close enough. You finally couldn’t ignore your body waking up as you took your leg from around Jack’s own.  

“Where are you going?” he asked with his eyes closed, his heavy arm wrapping tighter.  

“To the bathroom.” you answered softly, captured by his pretty blue eyes.  

“Are you hungry?” he asked, licking his chapped lips and stretching out.  

“I could go for something.” you nodded, and Jack mimicked the action before reaching out to rub your thigh that you had to admit was still sore. “I’ll be right back.”  

Jack nodded and tugged his pillow beneath his head before rubbing his face and trying in vain to find sleep. 

In the bathroom, you couldn’t help the butterflies swirling in your stomach and the smile that graced your face. Perhaps, you thought, you and Jack could work it out, that today could be a starting point. All the possibilities of what could become had crossed your mind until you stood up and found a black bra hanging on the back of the door.  

Everything stopped for a moment, and everything that Jack had said the night before raced through your mind as you stared at it. Your heart pounded and your legs shook as water ran across your hands and your cheeks became wet. In a burst of adrenaline, you scoffed and threw open the bathroom door, hating yourself for being in only his shirt and a pair of his boxers, for how pathetic you looked staring back at him as if it was anyone else’s fault but yours for getting the idea that Jack could have possibly changed.  

He was sitting up in bed, his lips floundering for the words to come to him, but you were already snatching your purse and shoes from the side of his bed.  

“Y/N, quit it for a minute!”  

When he made the mistake of touching you, you pushed at him and shook your head. “Don’t even try to give me that shit, Jack. Don’t try to tell me it’s nothing- that you were thinking about me the whole time.”  

“Please let me explain.” he pleaded, picking up your purse that you dropped, but you only continued your fit of rage. “Angel.”  

“I’m not your fucking angel, Jack. I’m not this docile woman that’s going to keep putting up with your shit because you know how to sweet-talk your way out of shit.”  

“I was with her because I was lonely. The papers- they-”  

“And I’m not? Fuck, I wasn’t? I wasn’t lonely when I saw your stories of you out with your friends in different cities? I wasn’t lonely when I was here trying to figure out why I couldn’t have that baby, Jack?” 

“Y/N.” your words panged him, and you knew they did. You refused to back track, though, you had held in your pain and regret for far too long. “Come on, you know how sorry I am about that.”  

“Yeah, sorry enough that you could shower me with gifts and follow me around and scare off another guy that might treat me better? That would actually be a husband, is that it? Fuck you and fuck your ego, Jack. I’m done. Seriously.” you threw your hands up and sniffled before digging into your purse and fishing out a gold wedding band.  

Jack didn’t realize what him until it hit right against his pounding heart and fell to the hardwood of his floor. By the time he looked up, you were already on your way out, and he knew better than to follow you.