#and the most amazing teammate ever

[akaaschi]

wanna know what makes me so emotional ?????

TANAKA IS THE ACE IN HIS THIRD YEAR!!!!!!!!

[dinosaurwithablog]

I never get tired of watching Simone Biles fly through the air. She's so energetic and lovely 😍 she's an incredible gymnast!! The best and most decorated in the world. She is a gymnast and a great friend and teammate and a great woman. She makes me proud to be an American again!! Thank you, Simone 😊😍🫂 USA, all the way!!!

[myriahkamm]

My supervisor at work during my annual review: "You're the best on the team! There's virtually nothing you could do to improve your annual review score! I don't have any suggestions other than to keep doing what you're doing!"

The company I work for: "Enjoy your $0.84/hour raise!"

Me:

(Guess I really need to work on those job apps, because this bullshit happens every year at my annual review, and it's a fucking joke. The company touts its profits online and then treats its best employees like this. Yes, I'm a peon, but if I'm getting top annual review scores that my supervisor "has never seen on any team" she's been in charge of and whatnot, you'd think I'd get a raise that actually matters and means something. Oy.)

[5sospenguinqueen]

Mean Left Hook - Charles Leclerc x Ferrari! Reader

Summary: Silly season brings forward more children for Charles and YN. And how best to welcome into the world of F1 than to crochet them a gift. 

2024 silly season. Fluff. Humour

Pinterest pics

Requested: Yes by @illyrianprincess

F1 Masterlist

I have so many fics to finish off but i saw this request and it possessed me lol

This can be read as a standalone but for more fluff, crochet and terrible puns, read Needle Little Love

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

haasf1team just posted

liked by its_ynln, charles_leclerc and others

haasf1team ollie’s on the grid for ‘25

5,027 comments

its_ynln amazing news! well done, ollie

→ olliebearman thanks, y/n/n

charles_leclerc can’t wait to have you on the grid next year, mate

→ olliebearman thank you. i hope to put all your tips to good use

→ user father and son reunited once more  

→ user okay i didn’t know how badly i needed these two to be on the grid until right now

→ user yes! we know she’d take such good care of him

→ its_ynln @/charles_leclerc we’ve got another child

→ charles_leclerc well, you did agree to a big family

→ user they’ve talked about kids!! 

oscarpiastri well done, ollie. looking forward to spending time with you on the grid and at family dinner

user poor ollie is going to find out just how slow that haas is 

jackdoohan congratulations, mate

→ user @/alpinef1team jack announcement next?

→ its_ynln yes, please 

→ jackdoohan being nice doesn’t erase the fact that i still don’t have a dinosaur 

→ its_ynln 🖕🏻🖕🏻

its_ynln just posted

liked by olliebearman, pierregasly and others

its_ynln welcome to the grid, ollie BEARman. you must be BEARy excited to be joining the world of f1

3,316 comments

its_ynln i tried to make him haas style but turns out i didn’t have red, white or black

→ scuderiaferrari no red?! where’s your team pride? where’s your forza ferrari sempre

→ user girly isn’t gonna get renewed after this scandal 

olliebearman thank you, yn! now my most prized possession. Fluff Von Haas will be attending every race weekend

→ user fluff von haas 😍

user charles and yn really are his parents lol

arthur_leclerc good luck @/olliebearman, you’re going to need it dealing with her puns

→ its_ynln charles doesn’t do the dad jokes so i have to

→ oscarpiastri she’s the dad who stepped up 

→ charles_leclerc whoa, stop trying to take my role in this family 

user look at how sweet she is @/scuderiaferrari. now renew her contract 

user you can’t break up the family @/scuderiaferrari. announce her seat for next year

jackdoohan okay, i see how it is. i’ve got to get an f1 seat to get a dinosaur 

→ user haha poor jack still doesn’t have his dinosaur

→ user i bet it’s because he said he couldn't wait to get rid of her before she was announced for ferrari last year 

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

scuderiaferrari just posted

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and others

scuderiaferrari signed, sealed and delivered. ferrari are pleased to announce @/its_ynln has renewed her contract. we look forward to racing with you for seasons to come

5,547 comments

user finally! 

user seasons?! queen got that multi-year contract

→ user she’s not going ANYWHERE

charles_leclerc oh mon dieu, i’m going to have to deal with her for many years

→ its_ynln don’t act like you didn’t know before me

→ oscarpiastri oh fuck, i’m going to have to deal with her for many years

→ arthur_leclerc @/oscarpiastri try having her be part of your family 

→ user i think arthur is forgetting that oscar is their son 

→ user not the leclercs acting like she won't be with them forever. we've seen the way charles looks at her, he ain't ever letting her go liked by charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc i couldn't imagine anyone else being my teammate ❤️

→ pierregasly it’s because no one else can “cheer you up” after they beat you 

→ its_ynln well, they could but i can’t imagine i’ll forgive him for cheating on me with one of you

user omg charles and yn racing side by side for multi years

→ user il predestinato and la principessa

olliebearman yay! can’t wait to share the track with you next year

→ its_ynln me too! it was so hard not to comment that when haas announced you 

→ user excuse me, you’ve known for a month and you let us suffer! 

arthur_leclerc like they would ever pick anybody else for that seat

→ its_ynln is this you being nice to me?

→ arthur_leclerc no. it’s just the forza ferrari running through me

francisca.cgomes woo! that’s my girl. i’d have built you a team myself if they hadn’t taken you back

→ pierregasly you’ve never offered to build me a team

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

alpinef1team just posted

liked by its_ynln, pierregasly and others

alpinef1team dreams doo come true jack doohan will complete our line-up for 2025

3,310 comments

its_ynln and you thought you were rid of me! 

→ its_ynln although it’s on you this time because you’ve followed me to f1

user i swear yn was the first like

→ user and comment

→ its_ynln shh, i’m secretly really proud and happy, but don't tell him that

→ user i love how she went from “i’m not babysitting” to getting charles to adopt more grid kids

pierregasly félicitations, jack. welcome to the team

oscarpiastri aussie aussie aussie

→ jackdoohan oi oi oi

→ danielricciardo oi oi oi

→ user they’ve been summoned 

user yn’s been liking these rookie announcement posts so fast 

→ user gotta ensure she’s up-to-date on her grid kids 

user omg guys do you think jack will finally get his dinosaur now

→ its_ynln no

→ jackdoohan can you tell i’m the least favourite child

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

charles_leclerc just posted

liked by lilymhe, scuderiaferrari and others

charles_insta weekend away with mon amour, without the kids (and the crochet needles)

2,211 comments

arthur_leclerc it sickens me how much you love each other 

→ charles_leclerc you were the one begging me to tell her how i feel 

→ its_ynln and you were the one constantly telling me how attractive he was, and how funny, and how kind, and blah blah

oscarpiastri come back, the other two scare me

→ olliebearman oi

→ jackdoohan i resent that statement

→ user when did they adopt jack?

user love how the only relationship content we get is from charles 

carlossainz55 wow, did she let you drive?

→ its_ynln yes, and i tell you, death himself was riding in the back seat 

→ charles_leclerc oi! 

→ user we've all seen the hairpin video charles

user always forget how stunning yn is until charles posts her liked by charles_leclerc 

francisca.cgomes the prettiest girl 

→ charles_leclerc yes, yes she is

→ its_ynln love you lots

→ user i love how we can’t tell whether she’s talking to kika or charles

→ pierregasly definitely kiks 

its_ynln i could spend forever with you and never get bored 

→ charles_leclerc tu es tout mon cœur

→ user the perfect couple on and off the track

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

jackdoohan just posted

liked by its_ynln, alpinef1team and others 

jackdoohan fucking finally i said getting a seat would be when i got a dinosaur, didn't i

1,647 comments

it’s_ynln will you leave me alone now? i made you three!

→ jackdoohan i mean, i saw a really cool crochet koala the other day ;)

→ its_ynln you know, i have a mean left hook 🪡

→ oscarpiastri i thought getting to f1 meant i was free from your bickering but you’ve followed me 

→ scuderiaferrari @/its_ynln you were told last year that you’re not allowed to publicly threaten drivers. do we have to make you sit through the powerpoint presentation again?

user at least you didn’t have to sleep with her

→ jackdoohan i thought i deleted that comment

→ charles_leclerc ha, like he could do a better job than me

its_ynln seriously though, congrats jack. It’ll be totally ROARsome to have you on the grid next year 

→ jackdoohan thanks mum

→ charles_leclerc mum? is there something you’re not telling me?

→ jackdoohan you’re my dad, boogie woogie woogie

→ user f1 rookies, getting adopted by the ferrari power couple since 2023

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

Requests open! Just delayed lol

Tag list

@peachiicherries @rosecentury @c-losur3 @heavy-vettel @evie-119

[radiant-reid]

Reunion

Summary: JJ never knew you were dating one of her teammates and that you broke up because of her, but seeing him at JJ's wedding years later changes things.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (Angst then smutttt)

Content Warning: 18+ Smut (oral- f receiving, fingering, unprotected sex, a little bit of a breeding kink)

Word Count: 2.1k

"So, how's mystery boy?"

After skipping your usual Tuesday night plans twice, thanks to JJ being away on cases, you're finally back in your best friend's living room having a glass of wine and a cheese platter.

It's been an abnormal amount of time to go without seeing each other since you both ended up in DC after moving out of East Allegheny to different colleges. Even with men in the mix now, you both make it a priority to see each other as often as possible. However, her busy schedule and frequent flights to New Orleans have meant you've spent some time apart.

Unknown to her, she knows the so-called mystery boy. Very well, in fact. "He's well." You say slyly, unable not to grin widely.

JJ throws her head back dramatically. "Come on, Y/n! Some detail would be nice."

"It's good." You try again. "He's the sweetest. I'm very happy."

She smirks, letting you know an interesting question is coming your way. "How's the sex?"

It never takes more than a glass of wine for her to be that loose. You don't miss a beat in your answer. "Fabulous."

"Okay, so can I meet him soon?" She pushes like she has been for quite some time.

You wonder what she would think. What would her expression do if you were to say his name out loud right here? Maybe it's not that deep but getting with JJ's closest colleague is dangerous. It was a concern at the start, a reason not to start, but you fell in love with Spencer Reid quicker than you could ever imagine.

"Sure, JJ." You agree, trying to look positively about it. You can only assume she's thinking about the worst possible scenario about your mystery man. He's a criminal or he's far too old for you or he's an ex you promised not to get back with. There are too many options.

She looks triumphant. "Yes!"

You just smile, sending the conversation in a different direction by asking about her boyfriend. He sounds like a great guy and you can tell she's happier than ever before.

Three months ago you met Spencer Reid. It was JJ's birthday and your duty as her best friend to throw her a fun surprise party. That took some coordination with a friend from work. Firstly, that was Penelope, but in order to lure JJ, you needed Spencer Reid. He was a little slow with replying to your texts, but lovely. And after you met him, you were hooked.

Spencer was perfect. Gorgeous, funny, intelligent. His incredible shyness had you confused when he asked you out for dinner the next morning.

Too many espresso martinis provide an explanation for why JJ has no recollection of you flirting with him all night.

You see Spencer as much as you can, but similar to JJ's, his schedule often doesn't allow for consistent visits. So whatever time you do have, you make the most of it. He's still the most amazing boyfriend you've had. Kind, caring, witty, fun, and playful.

He gets whisked away on a case to Miami not long after being home. You didn't know things would be so different the next time you saw him.

He goes quiet on you. You know their cases are intense but you haven't heard from him in an entire week and that's not right.

Can I come over? He finally texts you and you're guessing he's back in DC.

It sounds a little ominous and the message sends a chill down your spine. Sure. I can't wait to see you. There isn't a reply and you sit in limbo in your apartment for almost an hour before he knocks at the door.

You smile when you open it, although you're slightly annoyed there was zero communication or ETA from him. "Hey, Spence, how was it?"

"You knew." He says in a cold, accusatory tone. It's nothing you've ever heard from him.

"Sorry?" You repeat, moving to the side so he can come into your apartment.

He steps in, barely looking at you. "About JJ and Will." He explains.

A little frown takes over your expression. Surely he's not angry that he only just found out. An awkward laugh leaves your lips. "Sorry, Spence. She didn't want anyone knowing."

"I'm your boyfriend!" He exclaims. "You're not supposed to lie to me."

"I didn't." You join the offensive, crossing your arms. You're not enthused about what he's accusing you of. It wasn't even your secret to tell him.

He looks disappointed, face dropping. "Come on." He sighs. "How am I meant to be with you if you don't trust me enough to tell me who our friend is dating?"

"It wasn't my secret to tell." You try to talk some reason into him, pushing down that sick feeling in your stomach telling you that he's breaking up with you.

Spencer shakes his head, his decision- as much as it's killing him- completely made. "I can't do this."

His words make your world come crashing down and you almost can't believe it. You slump to the couch while he makes his way to the door with sad, slow footsteps.

He's looking at you, waiting for you to ask him to say. "Can we not tell JJ?" You ask softly.

"Fine." That's the last thing he tells you before walking out the door, shutting it firmly.

That's it.

The last thing Spencer tells you.

Then he's gone from your life. You talk about him less to JJ and she picks up on what happened and stops asking about him.

You expect to see him when Henry's born, or even at a point in his life. Somehow, you don't. Your schedules never line up and then JJ switches jobs. There's a myriad of reasons but it doesn't happen. You both go on with separate lives.

And then JJ and Will are getting married. You get a frantic call from your best friend's soon-to-be-husband who whispers secret plans to you over the phone. It's perfect, you know JJ will adore the simplicity and elegance of a backyard wedding.

You're there as soon as you can be, helping set up Rossi's backyard so it's gorgeous for the most gorgeous person you know.

You're the maid of honor, of sorts. And you don't get a chance to ask who the best man is before JJ arrives and the ceremony begins.

You strike out as soon as you spot a tall brunette. A tall brunette who made you the happiest you've ever been with a man. And he's still just as handsome.

His eyes bulge when he sees you but he keeps a straight face and clenches his teeth while the ceremony continues. You're mostly focused on how beautiful JJ looks and how sweet their wedding is, but you can't help your mind drifting to Spencer.

You hadn't seen him dressed up like this when you were dating and the tuxedo is a perfect look on him.

"Y/n." He comes up to you when you're getting yourself a glass of champagne.

"Spencer." You reply. His tone doesn't let much about how he's feeling on. All you get is a glimmer of shock.

He stands against the table. "Maid of honor?"

You shrug, a little confused at his question. "You know, I'm surprised I haven't seen you all these years." You admit, letting some honesty slip.

"It was slightly intentional." He offers.

You don't let it offend you. "Best man?"

"I think that means we're supposed to sleep together."

You nearly spit out your sip of wine. There's no way the shy Spencer Reid you once knew just said that.

"We've done that." You reply, trying to keep a straight face after the out-of-pocket comment.

Spencer tilts his head to the side. "You're right."

You really don't know how it happens. Maybe it's a few too many drinks. There's definitely not enough alcohol in your bloodstream to solely blame that. Spencer Reid is as hot as they get. And it's been... longer than you're willing to admit since you've had sex. Even longer since it was good sex.

So there isn't anything telling you to stop when Spencer pushes you up against the door of a room in Rossi's house, lips firmly against yours.

Your dress is hiked up around your waist while his fingers trace up and down your thigh before he even thinks about locking the door. Both of you are far too wrapped up in the moment to think securely.

His hands are quick to the zip of your dress, sliding it down effortlessly and letting it pool at your feet. He takes a moment to look at you and you have to admit, you're a little worried about his reaction. You don't doubt Spencer Reid can pull beautiful women.

"God, you're gorgeous." He says softly, juxtaposing the way he's practically clawing your clothes off you.

"Are you going to compliment me or fuck me like you promised you would?" You ask him, waltzing over to the bed and sitting on the edge.

Spencer smirks at your smart mouth. "You asked for it."

He's kneeling on the floor in front of the bed in seconds, with no regard for his suit pants being wrinkled, just on his knees. There's a sense of urgency that doesn't allow for the time for him to take your panties off so he opts for shifting them to the side.

There's also no time to waste as his tongue melds with your folds, tracing patterns. No one has ever come close to giving head like Spencer does. It's truly mindblowing, the pressure of his tongue and the suction method he uses. You're instantly in bliss, head thrown back against the covers as you moan.

You've lost it when his fingers enter you, pushing past with little resistance. "Holy shit, Spencer. You're incredible."

"Sing my praises." He says against your pussy.

You do. Not even possessing the ability to be embarrassed about it.

And you don't stop. You're withering and moaning on the bed, tugging his curls while he continues pleasing you. Eventually, it's too much. His fingers pumping in and out of you combined with his tongue wrapped around your clit have you finishing in no time.

"Still as good as I remember." As if he couldn't get any hotter, he sucks his fingers into his mouth.

Spencer rises from his knees, now much taller than you. You tug your underwear off before unclipping your bra. "Fuck me, Spencer." You reach out for his belt buckle, toying with it. "Please."

Spencer has lost the shy, timid nature he had the first few times you had sex and he quickly takes off his belt and pants. Once his suit jacket is tossed across the room, Spencer pulls your legs to the end of the bed, making sure you wrap your ankles around his waist. His hands rest on either side of your head and you're precisely where you want to be.

"You're so hot." You tell him with a smirk.

He grins, spreading your legs and inching inside you. The look on his face is an instant confidence boost. Clearly, he's a man in bliss, head thrown back and tongue parting his lips.

"Fuck." He pants.

You agree, barely able to speak from how hard he's pounding you and how good it feels. Although it's annoying to admit, you've never had as good sex as with Spencer.

Your hands wrap around his forearms, noticeably bigger than last time. "Spencer." You moan. "Please. So good."

He caresses your chest, paying attention to your boobs like he hadn't before. "Y/n." He groans, not slowing his pace up. His hips snap against yours with each thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing throughout the room. "Can I?" He asks.

It's unlike you to have even let him start without protection but you're not thinking straight enough. All you know is you need Spencer. "Please."

He finishes as deep inside you as he can get, leaning down to kiss you softly. You're breathless like he is when he flops down next to you.

One of Spencer's palms touches your cheek, forcing you to look at him rather than the ceiling. "Hey, pretty girl." He says softly and it makes your heart flip in a way it shouldn't. "Can I take you on a date, Y/n?"

The smile creeping onto your face can't be helped. "Yes. Please."

[cherry-leclerc]

needy ☆ cl16

genre: humor, fluff, jealous/possessive!charles, smut, established relationship

word count: 2.3k

A certain dislike bubbles deep inside of the Monegasque when you attend your first race and continue praising his teammate.

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+...penetrative sex, doggy position, m!receiving, blowjob, elevator sexxxx, choking

req!...aghhh i wish men existedddd

You’re smiling wide, face flustered with genuine happiness as you beam up at the podium from afar. The lights, fireworks, music, and environment fill you with pure adrenaline, and suddenly, you get it. Why a lot of people enjoy the sport, you mean. It was an exciting thing to witness.

But from the garage, where your boyfriend is getting weighed after a tiring race, Charles glares at you and then at Carlos who he can’t quite see but can hear the applause for as they announce his name. He can see the way you clap, the way your eyes crinkle up at his teammate. 

It should’ve been him. 

“You were amazing, baby!” you cheer as you skip towards him, arms flying over his broad shoulders. He grimaces. I’m sweaty, he protests as he lightly nudges you away. “Oh.” You take a wary step back at his odd behavior that had never taken place before. “I- um…Carlos and Rebecca invited us out for dinner to celebrate. Do you want to go?”

He could tell you wanted to and he hates how much it bothered him. The way it tugged at his heart like a painful needle. “I’m sweaty,” he simply states again. 

“You can shower first, I’m sure they won’t mind if we’re a bit late-”

“Or you can go without me.”

You frown, shoulders drooping. “But I don’t want to go without you…”

He blinks. Just as he’s able to speak again, Carlos proudly makes his way over with a shiteating grin. “Charles! Great race, man, I’ve missed driving like that.” They share a fierce hug before the Monegasque sheepishly smiles.

“Yeah, I did too.” A beat. “We’ll probably be a bit late to your dinner.”

The Spaniard waves him off. “That’s alright, as long as you make it. I want to celebrate something like this with my team. Especially since this is our last season together.”

Charles can feel a wave of annoyance towards himself for envying the 29 year old. He did enjoy the race, he was extremely happy for his friend, but it didn’t quite click why it nicked him how you wore a bright smile. He nods, a lazy arm pulling you in towards him. Your brows pinch with confusion. “We’ll be there.”

-

“I’m glad I was able to make it,” you ponder as you reapply with a fresh coat of lipstick. Charles dries his brown locks with a white towel as he stands close by. Me too. You hum, eyes trained on your reflection. “It didn’t seem like it.” 

His stomach churns at your sad tone. “I swear I am. Why would you say that?”

A tint of red colors your cheeks as you purse your lips. “For starters, you wouldn’t even let me get close to you. You pushed me away, remember?” He winces at the reminder. 

“I d-didn’t want to cover you with my gross sweat,” he tries as you shake your head.

“Like that’s ever been an issue. You’ve played soccer and kissed me. You’ve had a round of basketball and hugged me after an hour of attempting to make a hoop. Or when you played golf under the blazing sun and kept me close no matter what.” You grab your purse as you make your way towards the door. “Don’t make up some stupid excuse, Charles.”

Guilt slithers all around the green eyed boy as he watches you converse with the Scottish model. He feels like an old grump around the most colorful flower, and he’s ruining it. He was determined to make it up to you. “I’m glad you were here to witness my first podium of the season considering it’s your first time attending a race. That way you remember me as your boyfriend's best teammate,” Carlos gloats as you laugh.

“Oh, for sure.”

Jealousy pangs Charles once again as you continue. “I don’t know how you did it…it was a close one. But definitely a great race, you live up to your last name,” you salute as he winks as a thank you. Rebecca agrees besides her boyfriend. “You got me though because - no offense - I thought Charles had it in the bag.”

You’re getting back at him now. He can hear it in your voice as his eye slightly twitches. The Spaniard chuckles. I thought so too. Placing a warm hand over the Monegasque, you swiftly kiss his stubble. “But you were great nonetheless, Cha. My favorite driver without a doubt. My number one…Ooops. Four.”

“Ah, shit,” Lando hisses from down the table as he nibbles on a piece of cake. 

Charles fumes. “Aren’t you the sweetest thing, amour? Thank you, thank you very much.” 

You giggle. “No problem.”

Coughing awkwardly, Carlos diverts the conversation from the sudden tension as a new topic comes up. You simply jump in with ease as the Monegasque keeps to himself.

He could’ve gotten a podium if it weren’t for his front brake locking. He could’ve been the one celebrating right now with all his friends. He was simply better.

“I’m really going to miss this,” a deep voice rips him away from his thoughts. Carlos sighs. “It’s a struggle, but I will miss it when I’m gone. Especially you,” he says as he points to his teammate. “A sore loser, but you gotta love him.”

Charles scoffs. “I am not a sore loser.”

“He’s right,” you muse. “But trust me, it's incurable. For God's sake, he pouted when I beat his time on the stimulator.”

Pierre gapes. “She beat you? As in her?” Kika laughs, pulling him back by his linen shirt. “That’s actually pretty impressive.”

The Monegasque blushes. “It happened one time. It was probably broken that day.”

“Ahh,” Daniel says as he clicks his tongue. “I totally see it.”

“Would you stop it?” Charles deadpans as the table laughs at his defensive behavior. “I’m honestly happy for Carlos. I am.” 

The Spaniard wiggles his dark brows in a teasing manner. “You hate me a little bit though, no?”

He squints his eyes before aiming a napkin at the brown haired driver. “In the very moment, yeah. Maybe a little.” Carlos raises his hands up before smiling. As the night grows older, the more you lean into your boyfriend's touch, eyes fluttering tiredly. “Wanna leave?”

“Not yet,” you murmur against his chest. “One more round of drinks.”

He snickers. “I think you’ve had enough. Here.” He hands you a glass of water. “Drink it all.” Rolling your eyes, you oblige before it actually sobers you up enough to call it a night. 

“Congrats again, Carlos!” you chirp as your boyfriend drags you away, swinging Charles’ hand like a glass of champagne. “Here’s to more podiums!”

“More podiums, my ass,” he growls as tugs you out. “You’re such a flirt.”

“Only with you,” you hum as you sloppily kiss his lips. “You look so pretty, Cha, you know? Your eyes, your lips, your hair.” You lean in closer to his ear, whispering. “Your cock.”

“Pretty?” he retorts, trying his best to hide his hard on. You giggle. You’re also so fucking hot when you get territorial. It’s sickening, but I love it. His breath hitches.

“Oh, that was fast,” you cutely muse when his car rolls in by the valet. “Ready?”

“Y-yeah.”

As soon as you step foot inside the wide room, you jump onto him, lips clinging onto his neck, hands rushing through his hair frantically. I’m sorry for all I said. I love you, you’re my favorite driver, my number one. You’re-

“Oh,” you sigh as he kneels down in front of you, kissing your legs all the way from bottom to top, worshiping you until his head is beneath your dress, nose brushing against your panties. You shudder. He nips as you leap up in surprise. His teeth wrap around the thin material before sliding down and looking up at you like a dog. 

“Go to the bed. On all fours. Your favorite number, isn’t that right?” 

It’s a lame joke, but it still strikes you with shock as you carefully make your way over, following his clear instruction. And you think he’s going to fuck you, the way you were waiting for, but instead unzips his jeans and takes his boxers off, and stands in front of you. Open. “I thought we were-”

“Well you thought wrong, now open,” he grunts, hands grabbing your chin as he forces your mouth wide. Following along, you stick your tongue out eagerly. Like a dog. You should be ashamed, but can’t find the strength when he slips down your throat. You gag as he groans. “That's it, baby. Work your jaw f’me.”

Deepthroating him, you hum around his length as you take him all. He growls when your teeth graze his skin for a second, harshly pushing you back. “And you’re still being mean to me?” He tsks. “What did I do to you today for you to ignore me?”

Your brows arch. “I wasn’t ignoring you. You were ignoring me.” Fixing your dress, you climb off the bed, but not before he grabs your hand, dark eyes staring back at you. Where are you going? “Far away from you.” He fixes himself before marching after you. Just as the elevator is about to close, he manages to slip in. “I’m not talking to you,” you promise, arms crossed.

“Great.” The elevator comes to a halt. “Because this doesn’t require talking.”

Pushing you against the glass, he kisses you hungrily, greedy hands squeezing your ass as you squeal, attempting to push him off. This only makes him take a step back, rubbing his jaw. Seriously? You debate with yourself for a while before biting down on your lip and pulling him back towards you. 

There’s no sound other than moans and groans as he fucks your against the elevator. The angle causes his tip to hit your g-spot at a mindblowing pace as your head rolls back with pleasure. He’s the first to break the silence as he places a hand next to your head and the other secure around your waist as he pounds into you, loopy eyes admiring the way your breasts bounce. 

“I want you to know that despite my attitude, I’m happy for him, I am.” You don’t need to ask to know who he’s referring to as you hastily nod. I know, Charles. Leaning down to kiss him, you pout when he turns his head, leaving you to peck his jawline. “But you’re mine, all mine.” He sucks on your breasts that spill out in front of him as you whimper. “Repeat it back to me.”

“I’m all y-yours, you doofus,” you grin, tangled hair flying into your mouth as you squirm. “I didn’t even think I’d have to say it.” Squealing in shock, you hurry to grab the metal bar as he places you down and spins you around, leaving you mushed up against the tinted glass. “Oh shit.”

“Pretty view, no?” he quietly questions behind you, lustful eyes laser focused on the way you take him like no other. He grunts, head rolling back, messy hair following along. There’s no room to worry about the possibility that there could be a camera in the tiny space, or that help may be on the way despite the red button being pushed on purpose. And then he wraps his large hand around your throat and your breath hitches, tiny hole enveloping around him even harder. “S-so good, chérie.” He kisses you shoulder sloppily, mouth hanging a tad bit open as he tries to push back his fierce sense to come inside of you. 

I think it’s stuck, a familiar voice clarifies from outside. 

It is, you dimwit, another retorts as a group of mumbles follow with agreement. 

“Oh shit,” Charles whispers as he rapidly pulls out of you, fixing you dress and hair to the best of his ability before focusing on his equally fucked out appearance. A soft wail escapes your lips at the sensitivity that remains in between your legs as Charles apologetically pecks your temple and the door finally slides open.

“Charles?” Pierre squeaks as soon as he spots his friend. “Holy shit, are you guys okay?”

“Completely fine!”

“It was so scary,” you add, shivering with theatrical fear to emphasize your words. “Thank God they were able to help us,” you say as you signal to the hotel staff members who stand by with a skeptical smile. “I don’t know what we would have done.”

“I have a theory,” Lando whispers to Carlos as they snicker, taking in your sweaty state. The way your zipper isn’t all the way up, showing off a bit of humid skin. The way the Mongasque keeps his hands adamantly in front of his hard on. It’d be stupid not to know what had been taking place prior seconds.

“Well thank God you guys are okay,” Pierre breathes, already making his way to hug you and the 26 year old. Kika grimaces while you two cringe at the fact that the Frenchman was getting a good look and feel of the forbidden afterglow. Patting his shoulder away awkwardly, Charles hums enthusiastically.

“It’s been quite an eventful day... Charles?”

Dark brows fly up before nodding hastily. “Yeah! We should go to sleep…Take care guys! Au revoir!” 

Pierre smiles happily as he watches you two scurry away, Charles almost tripping as you grab onto his shoulder to level him up. “That’s actually really scary, I think I would cry if I were in their situation,” he admits, wide eyes blinking towards his friend group.

“Oh, honey,” Kika sighs, leaning up to pat her boyfriend's chest with empathy for his naiveness. What? Wouldn’t you? 

Lando can’t help but let out a loud laugh, clapping his hands with amusement. 

“Open up your eyes, Pierre. Those two totally fucked.”

taglist: @urfavnoirette @lpab @d3kstar @namgification @myownwritings

*feel free to let me know if you would like to be included in the general taglist!!

[asapeveryday]

FANTASY - K.TOBIO

Pairing: (time skip)Kageyama Tobio x Reader

Warnings: sexual fantasies :)

Summary: you’d had a crush on tobio through most of high school, he was your friend and he was cute, so it was only natural. When he sends you a ticket to his game on japan’s official team, that crush is reawakened in a far more mature way.

A/n: I’m gonna be spouting out sum haikyu stuff hopefully 🙏

RED IS A COLOUR you’re not quite accustomed to seeing him in.

It was only a year ago when he was adorned in the beloved navy and orange uniform, a bold number nine spread on his back where a new shiny number twenty now occupies.

Everyone changes in that first year after high school, but seeing Tobio again in person only makes it more apparent. His already broad shoulders have broadened, his arms as built as you remember if not more. His hair still short and sleek, a deep black that accentuates the blue abyss that is his eyes.

You can recall all the times you’d lost yourself, drowned in the sight of his face and his unwavering stare. Of course he never though much of it, dismissing your gaze as being zoned out. You were lucky he was so oblivious of his attractive appearance at that time, because you were nothing short of smitten.

You didn’t particularly care for volleyball unless he was playing. He has a way of engulfing everything in the game, you’ve never seen him so in tune with himself and his surroundings as you have on the court. You forgot how demanding his presence is, even on a team of amazing players he still drew attention.

The look on his face, eyes trained on the ball, hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, eyebrow’s slightly furrowed, red fabric hugging his athletic body just right. It sends an embarrassing shiver through your body that you haven’t experienced since graduating from Karasuno.

It’s his turn to serve and his expression is focused as ever, posture alert and fingers spinning the ball with ease. You can’t help but lock your eyes onto his hands, toying with the volleyball as his chest expands and deflates with every fleeting breath.

The ball is in the air, and his palm makes contact powerful as a spark of electricity.

BAM.

The noise is terrifying, echoing through the whole stadium. the way the ball hits the other side of the court within bounds as Japan’s side of the stands erupt with screams of triumph is cinematic. You find yourself joining the yells of joy, smiling at the sight of Tobio loosening up, a slight smirk gracing his face as he nods at his teammates.

‘God.’ You think. ‘I feel like I’m a kid again, watching him play.’

When he sends another earthshaking serve across the court you can’t help but press your legs together. ‘No,’ you think again. ‘This is different. I feel different.’

He’s ready to really start playing now, jaw in the air and teeth bared into a dangerous grin that you just barely saw during high school. The way his arms flex with every pass, the way his fingers nimbly send the ball to his teammates or over the net, the way his toned thighs tense with every crouch to receive the ball. It just might send you over the edge, sparking thoughts that almost never graced your mind during your friendship with him.

You can see it; his hands caging you in as he hovers above you, careful not to lean his weight onto your body. You can imagine the sensation of his knee in between your legs as he tenderly kisses your lips. Tobio never cared for girls in high school, but you can imagine that a year of playing pro has widened his experience in various ways. Still, you can’t see the boy being rough with you, not when he’d sneak you notes in class or apologize for even touching you in the slightest.

Unless in one of his bad moods, you can see Kageyama Tobio being sweet. Though his length may touch places you could only dream of reaching, pumping in and out of you with the power and stamina he’s worked so hard for these past years, you know he’d kiss you like you were his first love, like he depends on the air you exhale.

“Missed you s’much.” He’d utter under against your neck, painting your skin pink and purple and his hips buck into your heat fervently. “I’ve wanted you for so long.” He’d say, and you’d mewl in response, wanting to tell him about how you longed for his focus on you since you were a first year in high school but unable to form the words.

Still, you’d like to imagine he’d know, that you wouldn’t have to tell him about how much you looked forward to his games, to staying back late after school and throwing balls for him and Hinata, to sitting with him at lunch and attempting to tutor him before giving up and going for a walk with him instead. You relished your conversations with the blue eyed boy, he was straight forward and honest. He knew exactly what he wanted out of his life at the time, and you secretly hoped you were included in that.

You couldn’t think of him this way back then, it felt wrong seeing as he trusted you so innocently as a friend and nothing more. Everything was different now. You can see it clear as day from your spot on the stands.

This Tobio, the one currently staring down a player on the opposite side of the net. He wouldn’t mind how the sight of his face coats your underwear with arousal, he wouldn’t care if you pressed yourself against him.

The thought of him spreading you open in that intricate nature of his, deep blue eyes staring up at you as his tongue explores between your legs, nipping at the soft flesh of your inner thighs before delving and devoting himself to your core.

When Kageyama committed to something, he did so to the fullest of his ability. Should he decide you’re worthy of climaxing at his hands, you’re sure he’d make sure it’s the best climax of your life.

You can’t help but bite your lip and pinch your thigh at the idea. It’s shameful how you’re staring at him straight on while fantasizing about cumming in his mouth or all over his dick, but it also adds a rush of adrenaline.

You finally shake the thoughts off when the final point is earned, Japan winning their first game of the Olympic Season. The stands erupt in celebration, you scream and laugh with the strangers by you as if you’re old friends. When your eyes part from the people seated beside you and find the court, you almost freeze at the sight that meets you.

He’s found you in the crowd, presumably remembering the exact ticket he bought you. Despite this newer, more adult version of Tobio initially shocking you, with one look at his face you know one thing hasn’t changed.

He’s still your friend, and his still thinks about you.

Tobio smiles almost nervously when your eyes lock on his, and he subtlety nods towards you. It’s enough to make your heart melt, and enough to fuel fantasies for a lifetime.

[theyluvkarolina]

౨ৎ ALL-AROUND ౨ৎ

masterlist / rules / requests & talks with me!

SUMMARY౨ৎ Going to the Olympics was the best day of your life. Seeing your celebrity crush cheer you on? Even better! Your teammates saying how much you geeked out and made you say who your crush is in a interview..? Not so cool. Luckily, he seems interested.

PAIRING ౨ৎ Lewis Hamilton x Gymnast!Fem Reader

FACE CLAIM ౨ৎ Flavia Saraiva for most photos!

WARNINGS ౨ৎ cursing but that’s it lol, i started feeling a bit burned out at the end so I’m very sorry :(

A/N ౨ৎ decided to not make any specifications for where the reader comes from just to include everyone! (Y/C = Your Country) . Used Flavia because ever since i saw her in the Olympics, I’ve been obsessed. (the whole brazilian gymnastics team tbh)

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

therealy/n_l/n ✔︎

liked by lewishamilton, jadecarey, and others

therealy/n_l/n It’s such a honor to be representing my country this Olympic Games. It was a lifelong dream I’ve been imaging as a child and couldn’t be happier. I’d like to take the time to thank my family, friends, and coaches who deemed this opportunity possible for me. See you in Paris. 🫡

tagged: yournationalteam, olympics

2,308 comments

user1 YES YES YES YES

user2 HARD WORK DOES IN FACT PAY OFF!!

→ lewishamiltonswife even mine?

→ user3 …

→ user4 …y’know, it’s okay to keep dreaming!!

simonebiles ✔︎ good luck on the floor 😉

sunisalee ✔︎ so excited to see everyone in paris!! 🥹 ❤️

→ therealy/n_l/n ✔︎ ME TOO! I’LL BE THERE SOON 🤞

→ sunisalee ✔︎ WELL HURRY UP THEN

user5 lewis hamilton in the likes..? 👀

→ user6 FR WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THAT???

→ user7 because the world doesn’t revolve around f1 and she doesn’t care about lewis hamilton! i hope this helps!!

→ user8 man who tf pissed in your cereal this morning @ user7

therealy/n_l/n has posted a new story!

[story 1: on the move! 👀 ] [story 2: paris here we come!!]

therealy/n_l/n ✔︎

📍 Paris

liked by paris2024, sunisalee, and others

therealy/n_l/n when in paris! 🥐 ⚜️

1,850 comments

user9 she’s so pretty it’s not even funny

user10 proud to say she reps my country 💪

user11 emily in paris ❌ y/n in paris ✅

rebecarandrade ✔︎ eu amooooo ❤️ *liked by author*

user12 LEWIS IS IN THE LIKES AGAIN GUYS CAN WE PRETTY PLEASE TALK ABOUT THIS 😞😞😞

user13 can’t wait for her to dominate.

→ therealy/n_l/n ✔︎ …🤨

→ user14 STOP I DIDN’T MEAN IT LIKE THAT I MEANT LIKE THE EVENTS IN GENERAL 😞

jordanchiles ✔︎ we should like totally escape the olympic village and eat real food again.

→ therealy/n_l/n ✔︎ NOT ON THE INSTA PAGE JORDAN. THIS WAS MENT TO BE SECRET. (i’ll meet you outside in 10)

→ paris2024 ✔︎ What’s so bad about the village?

→ simonbiles ✔︎ everything

→ katieledecky ✔︎ everything

→ stephen_nedoroscik ✔︎ everything

→ carlitosalcarazz ✔︎ everything

→ henrikchristians1 ✔︎ everything (besides the muffins 🤤)

→ djokernole ✔︎ everything

→ paris2024 ✔︎ :(

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

therealy/n_l/n ✔︎

liked by simonebiles, rebecarandrade, and others

therealy/n_l/n what. a. olympic. games. would have preferred to keep my face from bleeding though 😓

tagged: yournationalteam, olympics

1,304 comments

user14 getting injured and getting a medal the same day s actually insane

user15 she came to serve

→ user16 YEAH TO SERVE CUNT 🗣️ !!

teammate1 IM SO PROUD OF YOU 🥹🩷

→ therealy/n_l/n PROUD OF ME? IM PROUD OF YOU YOU GOLD MEDALIST

simonebiles ✔︎ truly amazing effort! 👏

→ user17 SIMONEEE

→ therealy/n_l/n ✔︎ QUEEN SIMONE 🥹 It was such a honor to be a rival against you!!

sunisalee ✔︎ YOU DID SO SO SO GOOD Y/N!!

→ therealy/n_l/n ✔︎ SUNIIIII MY BELOVED BARS AND FLOOR LOVER!! CONGRATS YOURSELF ON HOW AMAZING YOU ARE!!

jordanchiles ✔︎ free from the olympic village at last 🫡

→ therealy/n_l/n ✔︎ ABOUT DAMN TIME 😭😭

→ henrikchristians1 ✔︎ time to eat some real food again 🤤

user18 is no one gonna talk about the interview after the ceremony??

→ user19 interview what interview??

→ user20 the one where Y/N’s teammates leaked her being a HUGE lewis hamilton fan! like she has a mASSIVE crush on him.

→ user21 OMG NO WAY WHAT’S THE LINK???

→ user22 @ user21 here it is!! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dQw4w9WgXcQ

YOUTUBE

NEW!

OLYMPIANS AND THEIR CELEBRITY CRUSHES! - PARIS OLYMPICS 2024

TWITTER

IMESSAGES

INSTAGRAM

therealy/n_l/n ✔︎

liked by francisca.cgomes, lailahasanovic, alexandrasaintmleux and others

therealy/n_l/n rest and relaxation 🌺🌊

1,927 comments

lailahasanovic ✔︎ in love

f1gossipoffical the kika, laila AND alexandra like+comment?? 👀

francisca.cgomes ✔︎ lindaaaaaa ❤️

user23 she so fucking fine

y/n_l/nswifeoffical who tf is lewis hamilton and why are there rumors they are dating now.

alexandrasaintmleux ✔︎ 🐠 🩵

lewishamilton ✔︎ 🌞

→ user24 LEWIS SIGHTING

→ user25 ya’ll are freaking out over a emoji 😭

→ user26 yeah because lewis comments on every girls posts 😒

→ y/n_l/nswifeoffical she’s too good for you

→ user27 he’s a 7 time world champion??? @ y/n_l/nswifeoffical

→ user28 and she’s a fucking OLYMPIAN?? @ user27

→ user29 or…. they could kiss and have a d1 athlete @ user27 @ user28

→ user27 ….

→ user28 ….

→ user29 just a thought 😓

georgerussell63 ✔︎ ??? @ lewishamilton 👀

→ user30 george wants the tea too

→ user31 CAN WE BLAME HIM?? I WANT IT TOO

user31.5 the wags commenting and liking after the rumors with lewis start? interesting…

IMESSAGES

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

lewishamilton ✔︎

📍 Monza Grand Prix, Italy

liked by therealy/n_l/n, georgerussell63, mercedesamgf1 and others

lewishamilton Decent results today! Very happy and we will continue pushing forward 👊 New surges of motivation can change everything in a person 😊

tagged; mercedesamgf1

2,394 comments

therealy/n_l/n 🩵

*liked by Lewis Hamilton*

landonorris ✔︎ new surges of motivation you say? 😏

→ user32 LANDO WHAT DO YOU KNOW

user33 lewis is not beating the y/n allegations

user34 y/n in the likes???

charles_leclerc ✔︎ glad to see this new “motivation” is helping you out 🙃

→ user35 CHARLES TOO?!?!?

user36 how much does everyone wanna bet this motivation is y/n?

→ user37 we don’t need to bet. we all know it’s true 💀

maxverstappen1 ✔︎ this motivation is doing some good work then 😉

→ lewishamilton ✔︎ very! 🥴

→ user38 WHATS THAT EMOJI FOR??? @ lewishamilton

carlossainz55 ✔︎ Motivation is always the key! 😊

user38 the drivers on the grid are NOT helping his case 😭

IMESSAGES

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

lewishamilton ✔︎ and therealy/n_l/n ✔︎ have made a new post!

liked by y/n_l/nswifeoffical, landonorris, charles_leclerc and others

therealy/n_l/n feeling salty and it’s not just bc twitter ruined my amazing hard launch i was gonna do 😞

tagged; lewishamilton

2,385 comments

lewishamilton ✔︎ guess the surprise is out 😅 But you still look stunning, babe. wouldn’t want to be anywhere you aren’t 🩷

→ therealy/n_l/n ✔︎ STOP IT YOU’RE THE SWEETEST 🥹 i love you so much lew 🩷

→ user39 ”If you can't beat 'em, join 'em" ahh comment 😭

landonorris ✔︎ this is disgustingly cute i hate it

→ therealy/n_l/n ✔︎ just say you can’t commit to relationships and find real ones a dream

→ landonorris ✔︎ what makes you think that??? 🤨

→ therealy/n_l/n ✔︎ i don’t know… the rumors a certain blonde with first name of a M and the last name with a C tells us otherwise

→ landonorris ✔︎ not funny. didn’t laugh.

→ charles_leclerc ✔︎ 😂😂

→ therealy/n_l/n ✔︎ you’re not off the hook either you little date my ex’s friends

→ charles_leclerc ✔︎ …congrats on you’re relationship with Lewis, Y/N!!! 😁

f1 ✔︎ Definitely not part of the strategy…

user40 Twitter: 1, Y/N’s hard launch: 0

mercedesamgf1 ✔︎ not very mindful, or very demure of you twitter 😞

user41 still better drama than drive to survive 🤷

y/n_l/nswifeoffical that should be me holding your hand 😞😞

[b14augrana]

Ad Astra Per Aspera

Your story goes deeper than what meets Alexia’s eye

Alexia Putellas x teen!reader

pt. 2 masterlist

Warnings: this story contains depictions of alcoholism, adultery, and familial issues. read at your own discretion. aditionally, alexia is pretty mean in this and there wont be a happy ending for a few parts 😬

A/N: massive thank you to this request for the amazing idea 🫶🏼. r is 18 y/o but still going under teen!reader. this is going to be multiple parts because theres so much i could do for this request that i find impossible to fit into one part and write to a good standard, so here you go!

The Stands

Football unites the world. It brings people, cities, and countries together, like nothing else.

You’ve seen it happen in your beautiful hometown of Barcelona — all you can see during the hours leading up to any match set to be played in the Camp Nou is red and blue in the sky. Blaugrana painted the streets below, and the entire city came alive with the commotion from the stadium.

You spent your entire childhood being part of the roaring atmosphere, waving your Barça flag proudly in the air alongside every other flag and wearing the infamous colours across your chest.

Most of all, you prayed with every bit of faith in you, that one day you’d be on the pitch, playing for the club of your dreams.

Everyone in the crowd had their own individual life. There could be a single mother, a lawyer who used up his last days of leave to attend the match, a young boy with his father, an elderly person on an outing with his wife, someone from abroad who’s spent thousands and travelled for hours to watch their favourite player in real life.

11 players could bring together almost 100,000 people just to watch them kick a ball around, and you wanted to have the same effect. You wanted to be so good at football and have the ability to transform a simple sport about kicking a ball around into 90 minutes of entertainment, performance, art. You wanted to do it with Barcelona.

You trained meticulously for months. You passed your small, worn out ball against the same fence in your backyard, you practiced your touch by juggling until the frustration made you storm away in tears and you learned new skills and used your own shoes as cones to pose as defenders and dribble around.

When you went to the Camp Nou to trial for the renowned La Masia academy, you were little and clutching your FC Barcelona backpack for support. The stadium already looked so big when you were up in the stands, but when it was empty and you were actually on the pitch, it was even bigger. You were stood on the same grass as your idols that once had the same dream as you, and that was unbelievable.

The start of your journey as a player at FC Barcelona had begun.

Day after day, you woke up early for training. Your siblings were never awake at that time, so the rare moment of peaceful alone time with your mother was something you looked forward to every morning.

She drove you to the La Masia facilities and then picked you up at sunset. Sometimes, when she had to work late, you and some of your teammates would go to the park and play with the other local kids until your parents came.

Those were the same teammates that you got promoted to the B team with, and the evening 5-a-side games in the park never stopped. They were your best friends — you all shared a common dream of getting to the first team and playing in big tournaments and winning titles, and even though you realistically wouldn’t all be able to do that, no one ever stopped believing that one day it would happen.

As you grew up and your career just started to take off, things started to change. Not just in football, but your life off the pitch too. All at the age of thirteen.

Your father started coming home late. As if your mother was stupid, he’d waltz into the house in the middle of the night, claiming he had to stay a little late because a last minute meeting was called or he lost track of the time. The mild arguments started, and when the late arrivals became more frequent, your mother’s suspicions grew stronger.

One night, it came to a halt. Just when you stopped expecting it, he came home at his regular time; half past six. The only difference was, he didn’t look happy to be home at all. A frown tainted his face ans there was something off-putting about his demeanour. Soon, it all made sense.

You watched from around the corner, your head barely peeking out. Your dad shrugged his blazer off, and you noticed the way his mouth twitched as if hesitating to say something. Once he spoke, a big part of you wished he hesitated a bit more and realised down the line that he was making a bad decision, but it was too late.

The reason he was working late, the secrecy, the floral smells that lingered on his shirts; he was never working overtime, the floral smells were not from the diffuser in the office, and he did have something to hide.

It was called infidelity.

Your siblings emerged from their rooms as soon as the cacophonous yelling started, and you were quick to usher them away from the arguing.

The reality of how bad the situation really was hadn’t yet settled in, but you knew the outcome wasn’t going to be good.

Your youngest brother complained about his rumbling stomach, and the other two were quick to jump on the hunger train. For a moment you were stumped, because you didn’t want to go into the kitchen where the argument was taking place and get dragged into it, so your solution was grabbing a €50 bill and sneaking out to the nearest restaurant.

You were the oldest of four kids. After you was one of two boys, Lorenzo, and then the twins, Magdalene and Dani. They shared the same passion for football as you, and your fondest memories consisted on being in the stands of Camp Nou with them.

All of you snagged a table in a cozy restaurant, one you were familiar with due to going there multiple times with the rest of your family.

The hour you spent in that restaurant with your siblings turned out to be the last hour of a carefree life you’d get to indulge in.

The Pitch

You turned 18 last week, but you got promoted to the first team last month. The headlines painted you as an emblem of success for Barça’s youth programme, the future captain of the first team, and there were all these opinions flying around about you as a player. The opinion that mattered most, though, was that of your captain.

You and Alexia Putellas didn’t get along. Her opinion on you was nothing short of disapproving, and she let you know of that as you arrived at practice.

“(Y/N),” the woman said, her voice holding notes of irritation as she approached you. You looked at her, preparing yourself for the inevitable lecture.

“You’re late again. You might be young, but over here you’re the same as all of us no matter your age, which means getting to training at the same time as us,” she berated you, her hands set on her hips and her eyebrows furled in annoyance.

“Look, captain, I had to–” you started, but your explanation was cut short by Alexia.

“I don’t have time for your excuses. Do better next time, or you’re sitting out of practice entirely. Go run your laps,” she snarled, dismissing you with a wave of her hand.

You could only watch in anger as she stormed away while the others looked at you sympathetically, and you bit your tongue as you walked to the locker room and dumped your bag in your cubby.

She belittled you in every interaction you two had, which was a shame because you really liked her beforehand. In fact, you looked up to her, and you looked forward to being captained by her, but now it was hell on earth every time you entered the gates and met her scrutinising gaze.

Training was nothing special. It was the same old passing drills, small-sided games, shooting and free kick practice, and then before you knew it, home time.

You slung your bag over your shoulder and left before Alexia could stop you and give you yet another lecture. After stopping at the primary school to pick up Magdalene and Dani, you three drove to the middle school to pick up Lorenzo. Barcelona rush hour was rife around the time you picked up your siblings, so you spent another half an hour stuck in traffic until you finally got home.

All you wanted was your bed, and a nap. Still, you dragged yourself to the kitchen to make something quick for dinner so it was ready for your siblings when they were hungry, and then you tidied up in the living room.

Ever since your dad left, your mother was a wreck, leaving you as the successor to her caretaking duties of the kids. She was never a drinker, but after he left, she found herself depending on alcohol for a quick escape.

It was nice for a little bit; a short break from the world that always ended too soon. She kept chasing and chasing that relief until she was in too deep, and it was never enough. The bottles multiplied, the cans lined the rubbish bins, the stench polluted the air that once smelled of a fresh vanilla essence, and she became latched onto it.

You blamed your father for it all, because it was his unchastity that motivated every drink. Your mother was a beautiful woman who loved her family more than herself.

That was what ruined her.

“Hermana, hermana,” Magdalene spoke, tugging on the sleeve of your shirt. You looked down just as you turned off the stove, and she rubbed her stomach, “I’m hungry.”

“Okay hermanita, ask the boys if they’re hungry, please,” you replied, smiling at her. She nodded and ran to their bedrooms, and soon they all emerged from around the corner.

After scooping generous amounts of macaroni and cheese onto their plates, you put some onto your plate and sat down with your siblings to eat. Together, you all talked about your busy days and they listened to you tell them all about your training. They loved hearing your stories about Barça, and every time, Magdalene and Dani would ask you to continue your stories until they fell asleep.

Tonight was no different as you tiptoed out of the twins’ bedroom, gently shutting the door behind you. As much as you loved sleeping after a long day, part of you also dreaded it, because it meant starting a new day and facing Alexia.

When you woke up, it was to gentle knocking on your bedroom door. You were awake enough to comprehend the quiet pattering of footsteps across your hardwood floors, and when tiny hands grazed your skin, you jolted awake. “Hermana, time to wake up! School time!” Magdalene chimed.

So your morning routine began.

With one sock and half your jacket over your head, you made three lunches for the kids right after making their breakfast. Your mother slowly slumped out of her bedroom, wrapping her robe tight around her.

“Bon día,” she mumbled, a smile on her face. With a glance over your shoulder, you acknowledged her before going back to slicing two oranges.

“Morning, mamá,” your siblings responded quietly, shoving food into their mouths to avoid speaking any further. She sat on the couch, sighing deeply.

As she walked past you, you could immediately recognise the stench of alcohol — no surprises there. Years ago, she would’ve smelled like warm musky perfume, not the pungent smell of chemicals.

“Can you make me something, hija? ‘M very hungry,” she said to you, looking your way. You kept your head down, sealing the lunchboxes and cleaning up the counter.

“No, ma, I have things to do. Make your own breakfast,” you responded coldly, “Hermanita, pequeños, bring your dishes here.”

Your siblings scrambled from the table with their empty plates, giving them a quick wash before retreating to their rooms to get their uniform on. On the couch, your mother was still begging for food.

“Hija.. I’m hungry,” the woman slurred.

“Mamá, I have to get your kids to school and go to my own job, which my captain is already angry at me for being late because I have to drive them all around Barna,” you hissed.

“Then I have to come home and make dinner after cleaning your mess. You can make your own breakfast, for once!”

You always felt bad for yelling at your mum, but your life was hard enough with trying to get to work and drop off your three siblings in time while worrying about making your mum a meal.

You had a chance at life. You had a chance to succeed, and you weren’t going to waste it. You weren’t going to rely on a man to look after you in the future until he turns around and wants to look after another woman, leaving you damned.

“Bye, mamá,” you grumbled, grabbing your keys from the bench and swooping your boot bag up from the floor.

It was Dani’s turn to pick which song to play on the radio on the drive to school. He chose a very popular song within your siblings; ‘Me Gustas Tu’. The song had been broadcasted on the radio one day, and everyone seemed to love it. Their favourite part of car rides to school was winding the windows down and singing as loud as they’d like.

Somehow, amongst your father leaving and your mother’s new habits, your siblings were always happy, and that’s what you admired most about them. Maybe they were unaware of the harsh reality, but they were still naïve and unscathed by everything that happened.

It was almost 9:30 in the morning when you started making your way to the training pitch. Mentally, you were preparing yourself for the big lecture you were about to get from Alexia and seriously didn’t need, but physically, you looked unbothered if not a bit tense in the shoulders.

You almost tripped on your way out of the car as you rushed around to get your gear. Walking into training everyday just to get yelled at by Alexia was never nice, but you were used to it. Unfortunately.

That wasn’t the sort of relationship a captain should have with one of her players. It was almost like she despised you, and if she had her way, you probably would’ve been off the team within the first week.

Sure enough, when you appeared on the pitch, the first thing you heard was the low whispers beside you.

“…She’s irresponsible and doesn’t belong on the first team. Being late once, I understand, but multiple times? Her excuses are not good enough–”

“Excuses? Ale, you’ve never let her explain herself.”

“There shouldn’t be any need for excuses anyways, because she shouldn’t be late at all. If she wants to take her time and be let off easy like a child, send her back to the B team. Look, she isn’t even here yet.”

“She is, though. Look behind you.”

The woman turned around, her glare settling on you and being as cold as ever. She spun her whole body around and folded her arms across her chest, her frown heavy.

You sighed, looking down to your feet. It made you feel even worse that you couldn’t help it, and you couldn’t explain it to her either, because that action had potential to get your siblings taken away.

“Drop your bag, get comfortable. You’re not training today,” she snapped.

Your heart sunk. You fought to fend off any tears from forming on your waterline as you nodded, raising your head slightly.

“Listen, (Y/N). This team is everything to me. I have lots of respect for the people who coach us and come here to be coached. You, showing up late? That shows a lack of respect for those people. You’re lazy, unorganised, irresponsible–”

Irresponsible was untrue. If anything, you were the most responsible person you’ve ever known, but Alexia didn’t know that because she didn’t care to know you.

“…I can’t expect you to represent our club and our city on big stages if you can’t even come to training on time. You aren’t FC Barcelona material, and unless things change, you never will be.”

Your lip quivered as your body aligned to bolt for the locker room as soon as she left you alone, away from the watchful eyes that surveyed you in pity when had you arrived. Alexia turned on her heel and stormed away past Mapi, whom she was talking to previously.

She left you in her wake, crestfallen and misunderstood, defeated by circumstances beyond your control.

[barcaatthemoon]

guard dog || lucy bronze x reader ||

lucy cheers you up when the internet has it out for you.

"i think i'm gonna go lighter with my hair."

you had no idea the trouble those words were going to cause you. lucy had tried hard to keep you out of the spotlight, but it wasn't as easy as when you first started dating. you'd been with lucy since college, and over the years, fans had taken notice of you frequenting lucy's games. it wasn't until the euros, however, that lucy had finally confirmed your relationship.

it wasn't good for you to be on any social media when it felt like every other post was about you. you had dealt with a bit from fans before, but this was worse than you could have ever imagined. it was one thing to be accused of cheating by strangers, but it was the constant affirmations of things that you already thought about your relationship and yourself that got to you.

lucy was amazing, and you had never felt like you were right for her. she was always too smart or too ind for you. she was out of your league attractive. lucy bronze was too good for you, and it felt like millions of people agreed with that.

"hey, are you okay?" lucy's brows furrowed as she watched you lean forward. you were starting to hyperventilate as the world felt like it closed in on you. lucy rushed over to kneel beside you and tilt your head to look at her. "hey, what's going on?"

"i didn't cheat on you, i swear." it was something lucy already knew. you knew that she was well aware that you would never even think to do something like that, but it was all you could say. you needed to reassure her in case she saw the pictures and didn't recognize herself.

"i know that, i never said you did." lucy would have laughed if you weren't obviously so upset. "talk to me, what's going on?"

"the pictures after you got your hair done, when we met for lunch. i took your car, and they don't know what the other looked like. your hair was different, they think i'm cheating. they know that i don't deserve you," you rambled. lucy pulled you into her arms and held you against her chest. she ran her hands through your hair as she pressed gentle kisses to your temple.

"hey, it's okay. i will get this sorted out, i promise. can you go downstairs and pick out a takeout menu for us? i know that you were gonna cook, but not if you're upset. i want you to just relax for the night," lucy said. she gave you a squeeze before she let you go downstairs.

it wasn't easy, but you managed to take your mind off of everything after lucy hijacked your phone. lucy ordered your favorite takeout, even if she knew a few places that served the same thing that she liked better. you were truly pampered in a way that you hadn't been in a while. lucy was a busy woman at barcelona, not that she had ever been anything else. this was just different, and things often took up a lot more of her time than either of you expected.

"am i done with phone jail?" you asked lucy as the two of you laid out on the couch the next afternoon. lucy had helped you with breakfast in the morning, although you didn't let her lay a finger on your coffee. the two of you had spent most of the day catching up on the american sports that you had been missing out on.

"i don't know. do you promise not to make fun of me if you see anything too sappy?" lucy asked you. she looked a bit ashamed of herself, as if she had done something hastily last night. you knew that lucy could be fiercely protective over you. she had nearly beaten up one of her teammates when the two of you moved here and the girl had gotten too friendly with you for lucy's taste.

"that depends on what you did. lucy please tell me that you didn't say anything to get yourself in trouble." you stared at lucy, who just handed you back your phone. she tried to shift away from you, but you threw your weight down more securely on top of her. you opened up instagram to see that lucy had tagged you in a post. "aw baby."

you swiped through the pictures, each one from a different milestone in your relationship. they weren't necessarily your favorite pictures, but you knew that they were lucy's. there wasn't a single one where one of you didn't have a lovestruck look on your faces. most of them were lucy staring at you, but you definitely took note of the few thrown in where you looking at her like she was your everything.

"shut up," lucy grumbled. you looked at her with fresh tears in your eyes, and lucy just sighed to herself. "fuck, this wasn't supposed to make you cry."

"i love you so much," you said as you cupped her cheeks. lucy let you kiss her, but she tried to hide her face immediately once you were done. "you're so sweet. thank you for this."

"just stay off of twitter for a while," lucy told you. you nodded your head, but as soon as you went into one of your text chains with the few of her teammates you had befriended over the years, you saw what she wanted to hide from you. lucy was a woman of few words most of the time, but when she had something to say, she made sure to get her point across. you thought she was being a bit harsh, but lucy's message was sure to shut everybody up about getting at you.

[vivwritesfics]

Pastry

Boyf Oscar moments

1.3K

I need moots

"Oscar Pastry!" She sang as she skipped towards the McLaren garage.

The Australian in question glared at her, but it was a good thing his glare made him look like an angry puppy.

"That's not my name," he said as she came closer.

Y/N thought for a minute. "No, no. I think it is," she answered and looked around the garage for his teammate. "Lando! This is Oscar Pastry, right?"

"Definitely Oscar Pastry!" Lando shouted back.

"That's settles it then, Oscar Pastry."

Oscar may have been glaring, but he skill kissed her. "Wish me luck today," he said, placing his hands on her hips while Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Good luck, Pastry," she whispered and placed her head against his chest.

Oscar kissed the top of her head, wrapping his arms more securely around her.

Pastry, because that was what Y/N thought his name was when they'd first met. She'd soon learnt it was Piastri, but by then it was too late and the name had stuck. Even before they were dating, she still called him Oscar Pastry.

It was his name in her phone when they were innocently flirting over text. When the flirting was no longer innocent, his name was still Oscar Pastry.

When Oscar had asked Y/N to be his, she'd answered with "Of course, Oscar Pastry."

Now, a year on from that everything was different. Oscar was no longer in F2 and a lot more of his life was in the limelight. But he was still Y/Ns Oscar Pastry.

***

2023 was Oscars rookie season. But he was amazing. Y/N always came away from each race filled with pride. Oscar could have DNFed or finished each race last and she still would have been filled with pride.

"Pastry!" Y/N shouted as he got out of the car. He wasted no time in taking her into his arms and spinning her around. His helmet was still on his head, so Y/N had no choice but to kiss it, to kiss where his mouth should have been.

He let her go, pulled off his helmet and gave her a real kiss. One that had the lads in the McLaren garage clapping their hands and turning away to give them a little bit of privacy.

After that Oscar was off to do what he needed to do after the race. Y/N waited for him in his driver's room. She played on her phone, scrolling through social media to see pictures of the race already up on her Instagram.

The Oscar fans were her favourite. There were some familiar faces on her feed, fans that had been there since his F2 days and had moved up into F1 with them.

There were several pictures of Oscars McLaren driving around the track. There were quick videos of him overtaking other drivers and pictures of his jumping out of his car.

And then Y/N got to the F1 news sites. Ever since Oscars F1 debut, the news sites run by the male F1 fans had been overly critical of her specifically. So, Y/N tended to avoid them. She stuck to the accounts that loved her and Oscar together, the accounts that didn't tear her down just because she was with Oscar.

The wag accounts had posted updates from the race, the most recent of which being the picture of her kissing Oscars helmet. And then it was the pictures of her actually kissing Oscar. Him all sweaty and disheveled from the race, her radiating pure joy.

***

Y/N couldn't go to every race. As much as she tried, she couldn't make it to every single one. She had work and school to attend.

So, when she couldn't make it to a race, Oscar was very understanding. They called and texted as much as they possibly could. Even if she had to watch the race through her tv screen, she still watched the race.

Studying and working was a tiring business. Sunday evening, after the race, Y/N was exhausted. With preparing to write her thesis, she only managed to half watch the race. It was mainly her listening out for Oscars name and number as she typed away at her laptop.

Oscar was due home that night. To the some they shared.

Y/N tried her very best to stay awake as she waited for him, she really did. Maybe her first mistake was climbing into bed. Maybe her first mistake was getting under the blankets and letting the warmth cocoon her.

The same thing probably would have happened if she had stayed sitting on the couch. At least in her bed she was comfortable and unlikely to hurt her back like she would on the couch.

When Oscar got in, the lights and the television were still on. It was kind of worrying, actually, seeing all the lights on and no sign of his girlfriend. "Y/N?" He called, looking around into their kitchen. "Y/N?"

Oscar went around, checking every single room. And then he got to their bedroom.

Slowly, Oscar pushed open the door. It didn't stop the door from squeaking as he opened it. He put his head around the door and looked in.

There she was, sleeping peacefully in their bed. In way of pyjamas she had on an orange McLaren hoodie.

Oscar tried his best to be quiet. He tried to move around the room silently, tried to be light-footed, but he wasn't doing a very good job. Every time the floorboards creaked under his feet, he turned back to his girlfriend, to make sure she was still asleep.

As Oscar got dressed, Y/N stirred. She rolled towards him, her eyes fluttering open. "Pastry?" She called, her voice croaking.

Suddenly she was sat up, rolling out of bed and stumbling towards him. "Oh my god, Pastry. You're back," she said and wrapped her arms around him.

Oscar had to hold her steady as they hugged. "I missed you too, baby," he whispered and kissed the top of her head. He walked her back over to the bed and sat her down.

"Love you, Oscar Pastry," she whispered and promptly went back to sleep, wrapped in his embrace.

***

"This is paradise," said Y/N as she stretched out on her sun lounger. The sun was shining, palm trees providing the only shade for miles.

The pool in front of her was crystal clear. In said pool was her boyfriend, swimming from one side to the other with an inflatable dolphin. Y/N watched him through her sunglasses, a McLaren hat on her head.

Summer break was something Y/N took very seriously. Her studies were finally done and Oscar was finally on summer break from the season.

Of course, Oscar had to take his girl on holiday. They flew to the Caribbean, to a private villa they'd rented for the next week and a half. From there it was sun, sand, blue skies and crystal clear water.

Getting out of the pool, Oscar threw himself down onto the sunbed beside Y/N. "Happy?" He asked, reaching out and placing his hand on her knee.

His fingers were cold, but it was welcome under the Caribbean sun. Y/N placed her hand on top of his and nodded her head. "This is amazing, Oscar Pastry," she said, turning towards him.

Oscar had this way of smiling. It made Y/N's heart beat fast and the blood rush to her cheeks. "I love you," she said, reaching up to push her fingers through his hair. "My Oscar Pastry."

"Your Oscar Pastry."

The trip was commemorated with a post on Y/N's Instagram.

y/nusername:

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiatri and 238,557 others

ynusername Oscar 🥐

[anadiasmount]

learned from the best - jb blurb

quick sum: jude can’t help but thank the best teacher he’s ever had. the one who taught him the language he wants to ever share and speak with you.

“tu español a mejorado bastante,” you say, placing a kiss on his cheek, letting your lips linger for a few seconds. you were sat on his lap, jude looking up and rubbing his hand on your thigh “no pensé que ibas hacer eso mi amor.” (your spanish has gotten better… i didn’t think you’d do that, my love.)

“le quería enseñar a todos lo tanto que eh aprendido,” he says cheeky making you roll your eyes at his demeanor. “además era el momento perfecto, no crees?” he raises his brow as you watch in amusement, jude still a bit tipsy from the drinks he had. (i wanted to show everyone how much i have learned… also, it was the perfect time, don’t you think?)

“gracias por ser la mejor maestra que eh tenido,” jude smirks feeling your tiny slap on the side of his head. “solo lo dices por los recompensas que te daba después,” you squint your eyes while having a straight smile, yet having the urge to laugh. (thank you for being the best teacher i’ve ever had… you’re only saying that because of the rewards i gave you after…)

“in all seriousness, thank you. i wouldn’t have been able to do this without you. i know i was a pain in the ass most of the times, and you pushed me more than anyone else, but in the end you taught me a new language. your native language, and i can see how much that means to you,” jude says. “and now it means so much to me…”

“entonces eso significa que ahora vas a hablar con mi familia el español en la casa?” you deadpanned, jude’s face dropping as he shook his head immediately, frantic about your suggestion. “ah no…” jude chuckled nervously, “i learned but i haven’t perfected it pretty girl. not just yet, i want them to be amazed,” he kisses your hand, over the small “j” charm on your bracelet. (so that means you’ll finally talk to my family in spanish at home?)

“i guess that’s fair…”

“i want our kids to learn spanish though,” jude says seriously, making your heart race at his topic of kids. the whole day he spent appreciating, thanking, carrying kids, including his teammates new baby that had your heart fluttering with nerves but overall joy. “you mean it?” your eyes soften knowing that no matter if he’s drunk off his ass or sober he serious about it. serious about you, his future that involves you.

“cien por ciento. yo quiero una familia grande contigo. y que nos hijos hablen español,” he stutters nervously, yet it brings small tears in your eyes. “aras mi madre la mujer más feliz del mundo,” you joke, making him laugh. (one hundred percent. i want a big family with you. and that our kids speak spanish… you’ll make my mother the happiest woman in the world.)

“y tu? tu también serás la mujer más feliz del mundo?” jude asks resting his head on your shoulder. tired from the blissful game, the traveling, celebrating, yet for you, he felt more alive than anything. he pictured his future exactly like this, you on his lap, watching your babies play on the pitch, their giggles making the both of you grateful. (and you? will you also be the happiest woman in the world?)

“ya lo soy,” you whisper, brushing your hand on his forehead and placing a kiss. (i already am…)

“te amo, mi amor,” jude says with a tiny accent that has you laughing happily. you would never ever take for granted how since learning those two words, he used them anytime and anywhere. (i love you, my love…)

“y yo más.” (and i more.)

[leahwllmsn]

16,904

leah williamson x reader

Melbourne

October, 2023

You finally tell your friends that you’ve been talking to someone you met online on a Friday night. The response you got is that they all think you're crazy, and you can’t blame them—saying that you have a tiny crush on this blonde who’s almost twice your height and likes football and country music without actually knowing if this said blonde exists is kind of crazy.

But you really do like talking to Leah and you could only hope that Leah is Leah and not some fifty-year-old man. 

“You don’t even know what she looks like,” one of your friends snorts. 

“It’s not always about the looks,” you argue.

“That’s true,” another one of your friends chimed in. “But you gotta admit, the looks matter a lot.”

You were about to correct her and say no, they do not, because yeah, sure, Leah is so freaking gorgeous based on the pictures on her profile, but what matters the most is that she’s so kind, and funny, and just overall amazing.

Instead you kept your mouth shut. A part of you don’t want to share Leah with anyone just yet. 

(And another part of you still needs the confirmation that that is actually Leah because god damn it Leah is the most beautiful woman you have ever seen and you wish that it’s really her.)

—

6 Oct, 9:02 pm

y/n: I told my friends about you. they think it’s weird that I’m starting something with you when we’ve never met  

y/n: it’s not weird, is it? 

leahw6: starting something huh? ;) 

y/n: shut up 

y/n: we met on tinder. what were you expecting to find? a math tutor? 

leahw6: ...  

leahw6: you’re really funny, love

leahw6: and no, it’s not weird 

y/n: good 

y/n: and for the record, even if they think it’s weird I couldn’t care less 

—

6 Oct, 9:25 pm

leahw6: just to be clear 

leahw6: ‘starting something’ that means you want to date me right 

y/n: how else could I mean that 

leahw6: idk maybe you were the one looking for a math tutor 

— 

London

October, 2023

“Where did you meet her again?”

“Tinder.”

“Tinder,” Lia repeats.

“Yes,” Leah nods. “When we were in Australia for the World Cup… I got bored one night and decided to go on Tinder.”

“And you found her there,” Lia muses, sipping on her cup of coffee. “Wait, so she lives in Australia?”

“Melbourne, yes.”

“And does she know you’re all the way here in London?”

Leah hesitates before answering. “No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Oh boy,” Lia gives her a sympathetic look. “Does she know who you are?”

“Me… as in Leah?” Leah gives her teammate a confused look. “Yeah?”

“You as in you’re Leah Williamson.”

“Oh,” realization sunk in Leah’s face. “Then no. I mentioned I like football and she said she hates it. So, I doubt she knows who I am.”

“Oh boy.”

“I know,” Leah drops her head on the table. “I’ll tell her soon but what if it’s a deal breaker?” 

“Which part? The part where you’re a famous footballer or you live thousands of kilometers away?”

Leah grimaces “Distance problem. She already said she hates football and wouldn’t dare step foot in a football game, but it’s fine! That’s not a problem because I can and will convince her to watch one of my games.”

Lia laughs. “Sure, buddy.”

“I really like her,” Leah continues. “She’s funny and witty and passive aggressive sometimes but it’s so endearing. She has great taste in music, great taste in movies and books, and just great taste overall—”

Leah’s words get cut off with Lia’s hand on her mouth. “You’ve known her for a few weeks and this is already how you act?” Lia chuckles, taking her hand away. “You got it bad, Williamson.”

Leah groans. “I know.”

“Just tell her now. If she likes you the same way, I have a feeling that she wouldn’t mind either.”

—

24 Oct, 4:13 pm

leahw6: can we talk ?

y/n: sounds serious 

leahw6: kind of 

y/n: are you getting tired of me already :( 

leahw6: ofc not 

y/n: oh okay :D 

leahw6: idk how to say this 

y/n: do you want me to call you? 

leahw6: oh god no 

leahw6: omg wait 

leahw6: I didn’t mean that in a bad way I swear  

leahw6: it’s just that if you call me I’ll be hearing your voice for the first time and I’ll be even more nervous  

leahw6: and I don’t think I’ll be able to put out a coherent sentence bc I’ve been imagining so much what your voice would sound like with that face and all my guesses are that you have an extremely hot voice, raspy maybe?  

leahw6: but actually no I don’t think you have a raspy voice 

leahw6: a deep one maybe and holy shit a deep voice with an australian accent? I’ll faint on the spot I’m afraid  

leahw6: no you can’t call me 

y/n: okay...? 

leahw6: I’m really sorry please ignore all that 

y/n: I won’t ignore it, it’s adorable  

leahw6: you think I’m weird don’t you 

y/n: absolutely 

leahw6: great 

y/n: it just makes me like you even more

leahw6: I live in london 

y/n: as in the one in england … ? 

leahw6: is there another london I don’t know about 

[incoming call from y/n]

leahw6: why are you calling me ?! 

leahw6: I told you I’m too nervous rn 

y/n: I don’t get it. it says that you were 2km away? 

leahw6: yeah… I was on vacation… kind of...

y/n: kind of?

y/n: so you don’t actually live here? 

leahw6: y/n if I was only 2 km away from you I would make up excuses just so I can see you everyday 

y/n: how many km is it instead 

leahw6: between us?

leahw6: google says it’s 16,904 km

y/n: ??! holy shit 

leahw6: I know 

leahw6: look, I get it if you want to stop this. not everyone is cut out for long distance

y/n: we’re like

y/n: on opposite sides of the world

leahw6: I know

y/n: do you want to stop this? 

leahw6: I don’t 

y/n: then we won’t 

leahw6: are you sure 

y/n: let me call you 

leahw6: NO 

y/n: leah

leahw6: give me a day to prepare 

y/n: you’re so dumb

y/n: but fine 

y/n: do I at least get a facetime

leahw6: FACETIME? 

leahw6: no. you get a phone call. voice only

y/n: r u catfishing 

y/n: I knew it you’re too beautiful to be real 

leahw6: ha ha 

y/n: call me tomorrow okay lee? 

leahw6: okay

leahw6: and y/n

leahw6:  thank you

y/n: what for

leahw6: for giving us a chance

y/n: leah I’d be stupid not to 

—

Melbourne

November, 2023

You're in the middle of a meeting with boring, old men in suits when your phone rings—very loudly at that. You curse yourself for forgetting to put your phone on silent, quickly pressing the red circle on the screen, but not before smiling at the caller ID.

When the meeting finishes an hour later, you immediately pick up your phone and dial Leah’s number.

“Hey you.” 

You smile at the voice on the other end. “Sorry I couldn’t pick up. I was in a meeting.”

“Oh sorry, bad timing. Thought you were finished for the day”

“Bad timing indeed,” you chuckle. “It rang really loudly.”

“Y/n,” you could hear Leah’s soft giggles. “The silent feature exists for a reason.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you take a seat in your office chair and sigh contently. “I’m glad it rang though.”

“How so?” 

“I saw your name and my mood instantly picked up.”

Leah snorts. “You’re such a sweet talker, mate.” 

You throw her head back in laughter. “But it’s true!”

Leah doesn’t say anything after that, all you could hear is the sound of chatter and honking of cars. “Where are you?”

“I just had breakfast, I’m walking to the… office.”

“You called me when you were having breakfast? Am I that much more interesting than whoever you were with?” you ask, your tone teasing.

“Of course you are,” is Leah’s reply and you could feel your stomach flipping upside down.

“Now who’s the sweet talker?”

“Still you.”

“Says the person who couldn’t stop telling me I’m pretty when we facetimed for the first time.”

Leah laughs and you really, really love the sound. “But you are pretty.”

“But I don’t think I need to hear it every five minutes.”

“Just accept the compliments, love.”

“Okay,” you relent, a grin spreading across your face. “Who did you have breakfast with?”

“Just my team– colleagues. My colleagues, Beth, Viv and Lia.”

You go silent for a few seconds, the last name ringing a bell in your head. “Lia as in your ex?”

“The one and only.”

“Oh.”

Leah must’ve sensed the jealousy in your voice (but honestly, you aren't jealous, you’re really not), because the next thing you know Leah is laughing and telling you that it didn’t work out between her and Lia because they were better off as friends.

“You see her everyday though,” you say, your voice less confident than before.

“And what about it?”

“You don’t see me everyday,” you pout, staring at a polaroid picture of Leah smiling at the camera that is stuck to the wall of your cubicle. Leah sent you a handwritten letter along with that picture a few days ago. Your roommate was the one who received it and it went something like this:

“Oh my god, there’s no way this is your Leah.”

“What?” 

“This! Is this really her?” 

“Is that Lee’s mail for me? Did you open it?!” 

“I got curious!” 

“Give me that!” 

“You never mentioned that she looks like this!” 

“I just haven’t shown you what she looks like ‘cause everyone kept on teasing me!” 

“Because she could be a fake for all we know! But holy shit, she’s soo stunning. Does she have a twin sister?”

“No.”

“A twin brother?” 

“No.” 

“Can I have her instead then?” 

“What the—no?!” 

“Fine, be stingy like that.” 

“...I’m really fine with us like this.”

You blink away images of your roommate in your head and focus your attention back to Leah’s voice. “What did you say?”

“I said I’m okay with not being able to see you everyday,” Leah repeats. “Talking to you over the phone is enough.”

You smile. “It’s enough for me too. It’d be great to have you next to me but this is good too.”

People would think otherwise but for you, having Leah a phone call away really is enough; you'd take hearing Leah's laughter through the phone than not hearing it at all.

—

10 Nov, 1:11 pm

y/n: I got a dog

leahw6: ???!! 

leahw6: Y/N CALL ME OMG 

leahw6: I WANT TO SEE 

y/n: you’re more excited to see him than me :// 

leahw6: YES 

y/n: excuse me 

leahw6: WHAT’S HIS NAME 

y/n: robert 

leahw6: ROBERT? 

y/n: yes, robert 

leahw6: he's now my favourite

leahw6: SEND PICS

y/n: :/ 

y/n:

leahw6: you know you're my favourite too  

y/n: :D 

leahw6: but I think I like robert more than you OMG HE'S ADORABLE!!!!

y/n: bye 

—

London

December, 2023

leahw6:  want to hear a funny story

y/n:  what is it

leahw6:  a guy tried to hit on me tonight

y/n:  excuse me???

[incoming call from y/n] 

“That’s not funny,” is the first thing Leah hears once she accepts the call.

“Hello to you too,” Leah stifles a laugh. You sound tense and Leah can just picture the frown on your face.

“Leah.”

“Yes, babe?” Leah learnt that the quickest way to melt away your anger is to use pet names and so for any argument (even if Leah is in the wrong), Leah would always win.

This time it doesn’t seem to work. “How is that funny again?” 

“Darling, I’m just teasing you.”

“Did a guy really hit on you?”

“Yes,” Leah answers honestly. “He bought me a drink.”

“I see.”

Leah doesn’t like how dejected you sound. So she presses the button for facetime and the first thing she sees when you accept is her girlfriend pouting at the screen.

“What are you doing?” Leah giggles.

“Is all of this funny to you?” you pout even more, your phone screen illuminating your face in the dark room.

“Did I wake you up?” Leah asks instead. She knows you like to sleep in on weekends.

“Yes, but that’s fine. You know I want to talk to you any chance I get,” you answer, shifting so that you’re now lying on your side.

“You’re the best,” Leah says as she climbs in bed, tucking herself under the covers.

“Obviously,” you scoff. “Unlike that stupid guy who doesn’t know you’re off-limits.”

Leah grins at the annoyed look you’re giving her. “Baby?”

“Hm?”

“It’s so cute when you’re jealous.”

You roll your eyes. “Of course I’m jealous. He gets to be within your presence while I’m stuck here, freaking sixteen thousand kilometres away from you. It’s unfair.”

Leah sends her a soft smile. “But you’re the one I’m talking to every day, so who’s the real winner here?” The frown is still present on your face and Leah wants nothing more than to kiss it away—so that’s what she did.

“Leah, what the hell are you doing?”

“Kissing you,” Leah answers simply, kissing her screen again.

And when Leah hears laughter from the other end, her heart feels much lighter.

“Lee, have you cleaned your phone? That’s gross.”

“Shut up. I’m trying to be romantic.”

“Cute, but maybe clean your phone first.”

Leah rolls her eyes at you, her smile never leaving her face. “At least I made you laugh.”

“You always make me laugh,” you say, your face so close to her camera that the entirety of Leah’s screen is just a close up of your face. Leah’s heart swells in adoration at the sight.

“Did you have a good night's sleep?” Leah asks.

You hum in answer. “Now it’s your turn to get a good night’s sleep.”

You could see how hard Leah is trying to keep her eyes open.

“This sucks, time difference sucks” Leah pouts. “I just want to talk to you.”

“Baby,” you give her a sad smile. “It is how it is. We’ll talk more when you wake up.”

“Yes, captain,” Leah gives you grin, her eyes fully closed.

“Good night, Leah. Sweet dreams.”

You watch Leah go to sleep for a few minutes, the sound of her soft snores making it seem like she’s right next to you. 

That night Leah dreams that you're right next to her, holding her close and keeping her warm on the cold winter night.

[goldsainz]

WHEN YOU KNOW, YOU KNOW — one shot.

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

MASTERLIST.

taglist: @lorarri @lpab @noncannonships @lunnnix @elliegrey2803 @schumacheer @saintslewis @leoramage @ellswilliams @toomuchdelusion @anthonykatebridgerton @enhacolor @gulabjamoon @woweewoowa @forza55

summary: you’ve slowly consumed charles’s thoughts, and he doesn’t mind it.

request: “can i request ✒️ ❛ you’re my family too. ❜ + charles ?? thx in advanced hehe <3” by @ssainzz

warnings: pure fluff

NOTE: i was listening to margaret by lana while writing this and i just though it was so perfect for this fic. trying to get back into writing after a pretty uninspiring (and quite rough) few weeks. hope you enjoy bc i sure enjoyed writing this!

[ word count: 748 ]

Charles adores his job. He loves the sound of the engine, standing on the podium, seeing all the excitement the fans have to give and he adores travelling the world. He would never complain about the amazing things he is doing, but if there is one thing he has learned to cherish even more than all of that, it is you.

You’ve become an integral part of his days. Whether it’s waking up next to you or calling you to check in, he knows you’ve become home to him. When people ask him how his family is doing, he never fails to mention how you are doing.

He can’t help but admire you every time you walk by him, you’re a ray of sunshine in his life; at least that’s what everyone tells him. He hasn’t heard the end of it since he revealed you were his girlfriend, from his teammate to the fans, they can all see how much you’ve brightened his soul.

“Charles?” You softly say, snapping him out of the daydream he was in.

He glances up at you, watching as you move around the room. You’re packing your suitcase, clothes thrown around the room, you’ve most certainly overpacked for the race weekend. But Charles won’t tell you. He’s tried before and it’s a lost cause.

“Hm?”

“Do you think I should take the maroon or vermillion?” You muse, grabbing two different types of dresses and placing them against each other.

Charles furrows his brows, he glances between the dresses and tries to make a decision. But if he’s honest, he doesn’t know what the difference really is. The cuts of the dress are practically identical, and the length is the same in his eyes.

“The maroon?” He says doubtfully. You screw up your nose at his decision, apparently not being what you wanted to hear.

You look at the dress Charles picked once more, and with a shrug you throw it onto the ever-growing pile of clothes in your suitcase.

“I was thinking that for your family dinner we should bring something, right?” You ask him, organising some of the mess you’ve made.

“Our family dinner,” He tells you, a soft smile resting on his lips.

“Huh?” You manage to say, dropping the clothes you were folding onto the bed he’s resting on.

“You said that it was my family dinner, but it’s ours.”

“Oh,” You exhale, taking notice of the deep sentiment behind his words.

It takes you slightly by surprise, it’s not unlike Charles to be sweet, to reassure you with words when things get hard. But this time it is almost out of nowhere. You didn’t really mean anything by your words, yet it seems they touched him in a way you’re not even sure how to describe. The one thing you do know though, is that at the end of the day, he comes home to you. Because home is wherever you are, and that is bigger than anything else.

“You’re family to me, chérie.” He says after the smallest beat of silence.

“You’re my family too.” He doesn’t waste a second in getting up from the bed and kisses you grabbing the nape of your neck and pulling you into the kiss like he won’t ever get to do so again.

There is a pause in time. While his lips are on yours, it seems like everything just stops. Leaving you to breathe in the moment, cherish the feeling.

When you pull away from the kiss, the crinkles in Charles’s eyes from the soft smile he gives you melts all your insides. You’d be a fool not to give him the same sentiment back, and so you do.

“You’ve got the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen.” He whispers, his hand caressing the side of your face.

“And you’ve got the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen.” You say back, admiring the depth of the green in them.

Though neither of you say it, too lost in the moment, it is evident that the love between you is sparkling. And you know, you just know, that Charles is the one for you; just like he knows you were made for him.

If there’s anything you know, it is that he is your family. That he is the one you love. The one you’d come home to every day and never be bored of it. Because monotony with Charles is impossible, and if there ever is, you’d still want it.

[hollowdeath]

I LOVEEEEE YOUR HARRY FICSSSS 😭😭🙏🙏 I literally cannot get enough, your harry fics are amazing ❤️

I was wondering if you'd be willing to do an enemies to lovers type thing with dark!harry, similar to the one you did with "the dark side" fic, but maybe they're rivals due to quittich, yet they both just have tension they don't know gow to handle, so one day they just kind of get so worked up in an argument they start making out. (P.S. I loved the thing you did where harry came from y/n saying he hated him 😫😫 also the part where harry gets turned on from y/n scolding him. If possible, could you incorporate that in there? Thank you smm ❤️❤️) I hope it's not too much trouble ❤️❤️❤️

thank you so much for requesting this, i hope you enjoy!!!

pairing: slytherin!harry james potter x gryffindor!fem!reader (18+)

summary: you and harry have been quidditch rivals ever since you've become captain of the gryffindor team. the tension between you two rises until one of you needs bandaged up by the other, leading to you making a discovery about the school's bad boy that leaves you baffled and insanely curious.

cw: smut!!! angst, mentions of blood, degradation kink, sub!harry x dom!reader, dry humping

word count: 7k

it was your final year at hogwarts and, more importantly to you, it was your last year as the gryffindor quidditch captain. you took major pride in your status as captain, and dedicated a majority of your time outside of class to leading practice, coming up with new plays, and making sure that annoyingly good slytherin captain kept his distance from you and your team.

harry potter was well known at hogwarts years before he even came through. the boy who lived, or whatever. you had never paid him much mind to begin with because you knew he reveled in his own notoriety.

see, potter wasn't just the slytherin quidditch captain. he was the most vile, egotistical, disrespectful wizard you'd ever had the misfortune of interacting with. on top of thinking he was some kind of miracle that blessed everyone's presence wherever he went, he specifically treated you worse than the mud on his shoes. not just because of your status as gryffindor captain, but because you were the only student who wasn't afraid to stand your ground with him. had it not been for quidditch practice 4 times a week and games every friday, you would've done everything you could to keep your distance. however, things didn't work out that way, and you ended up forming a sort of rivalry with the boy that the student body found all too exciting.

it started last year when potter and his friends made a dumb poster and hung it up in every boys bathroom: a drawing of someone falling off their broom with your face printed out and glued to it, along with harry's whose drawing had just knocked you off victoriously. they had put "[y/l/n] vs potter: this friday at 6" at the top like it was some kind of promotional advert. and, as much as you hated it, it actually somewhat worked.

from that game on, the other kids began picking sides every week to see who would win. the crowd turnout became the largest it had been in your entire time at hogwarts. some came in support of potter or were otherwise afraid of what would happen if they didn't, while a good amount of students started to become your biggest supporters the more you showed your skills in the game.

see, you didn't just become captain by having a recognizable last name unlike some other people; you had been playing quidditch since you could fly from a young age, and made the team every single year before finally being nominated for the position by your own teammates. you made a promise to them that day that slytherin would no longer be known as the winning house, and that they finally had some competition to sweat over.

and sweat they did. your first game as captain was an easy win, and so were the next 3. it wasn't until the slytherin players learned they actually had to try in order to win now that they began winning every other game as well. that's where harry stepped in.

harry was someone you always tried to avoid during your years at hogwarts. you didn't socialize with many slytherins to begin with as you found some of them to be rather grating and obnoxious, but especially not with slytherins like potter. it was students like him that gave the entire house a bad name. everyone thought he was so charming besides his cocky attitude, but you saw through his act right away. you think that's partially why he singled you out of anyone as his target.

once he set his sights on you, it was impossible to avoid him. it's like he had some sort of tracker on you the way he always managed to pop up in the most random of places simply to upset you. not that you'd be surprised, as along with harry's sickening bravado came his disregard for moral ethics. if there was a way to cheat, lie, or steal your way into getting what you wanted, potter was already on it. he knew no bounds when it came to his little schemes either. from stealing your game plays and sharing them with his teammates to spreading rumors about your players to playing clearly illegal moves during the game only for nobody to notice but you, potter seemed to revel in the rivalry everyone pushed onto you.

you hated giving him the satisfaction of breaking your cold demeanor, but sometimes his antics pushed you too far. he knows how protective you've become over your teammates, so he'll target them when he can't get to you, especially the younger ones. this is where you've blown your cover quite a few times as you can't stand seeing your first years cower in fear anytime they see potter. yelling, spitting, nearly getting physical with him on several occasions when he ignores your threats to leave the kids alone or else. it's as if he rather enjoys getting such a rise out of you, and not just to fuel the public rivalry.

today was your last day of practice before the last, biggest game of the semester. your team knew to meet at the field at 5 pm ready to go as you had plenty of plays you wanted to perfect before playing against the slytherins tomorrow night. practice had only just started with a few flyers in the air before you heard a commotion of voices coming from behind you.

you turned and saw harry leading his team onto the field, laughing obnoxiously and pointing at your teammates in mockery. you swear you felt steam coming from your ears when you told your team to wait and let you handle this.

you stormed up to potter with an accusatory pointed finger. "you. get the hell off my field now before i call mcgonagall out here, potter." you spit at him before pushing his chest. harry takes the push and just laughs, shaking his head at you.

"[y/l/n], i'm not sure how many professors have to tell you that this field isn't yours before you let us use it for practice as well," he said with a smirk, changing his grip on his broomstick and letting it rest on his shoulder. you narrow your eyes at him and cross your arms over your chest. "you know damn well we practice here every week at this time, and yet you're never able to find a time outside of that to spend with your own team. curious, isn't it?" you ask him sarcastically, your tone biting.

harry's smirk drops slightly. "are you suggesting that i'm trying to sabotage your chance at winning the season tomorrow? because i'd never do such a thing, [y/l/n], and it hurts that you think of me in that way." he responds just as sarcastically. a few of his players snicker and laugh just behind him, earning a nasty glare from you that has them shut up quickly.

you look back at harry who's waiting for a clever comeback from you, nearly on the edge of his seat to see what you have to say this time. you hate how much he thrives off getting you upset.

"fine. practice, then. you'll need it." you tell harry with a cold tone, giving him a disgusted look up and down. you take a step forward and point your finger back into harry's chest, your faces less than a foot away from each other. "but if you mess with any of my players, even as a joke, i will gut you like a fucking fish." you tell him in a hushed tone. you think you see his pupils dilate slightly, but you were probably mistaken. "got it?"

harry's smirk only grows as he starts backing away slowly. "got it, princess." he laughs, turning to his little group of followers for approval before they run off to the other goal post opposite from your team. the nickname is new, and for some reason it made your stomach drop and heart race like crazy. that potter kid just knew exactly how to get under your skin.

you tried to focus on your own team's plays for the rest of practice, but you could clearly hear harry and his friends saying your name and laughing too often for your comfort. anytime you happened to make eye contact with harry, you made sure to scowl at him and promptly turn your attention away. just his sheer presence made your blood boil and skin crawl.

for the most part there were no issues in the sky, the slytherins mostly kept to their side besides the few times harry's friends were messing around and ended up coming close to a few of your teammates. you scolded them each time, but they would only laugh at you and fly off to tell harry about your outbursts. other than that, you ended up getting a lot accomplished in order to be prepared for the game the next day.

however, towards the end of practice, your teammates were having some difficulty with a new technique you taught them, so you took the time to demonstrate it with another player in the sky. you were just about to start instructing when your teammates started calling out to you frantically. you didn't have enough time to process what they were warning you about before you felt someone fly into you from behind, nearly causing you to fall off your broomstick.

you could feel yourself falling to the ground, but your grip on your broomstick remained tight enough to quickly get it under you just in time to somewhat break your landing. you tumbled to the ground with a pained groan, and heard someone else fall just to your left. you could feel the wind get knocked out of you in the air, so it took a moment for you to properly breathe as you tried to sit up.

your teammates got to you in seconds, asking if you were okay and trying to help you up. that's when the pain set in. standing up-right you could feel your rib cage aching and your shoulder throbbing. "i'm fine, i'm fine," you told everyone, brushing off the grass stains on your clothes. you turned to see who had fallen next to you, and who else would be lying there but harry potter as his slytherin teammates rushed to his aid as well.

they're helping him stand up and you can feel the rage building inside you. you break away from your teammates' grasps and march up to harry as he's wiping the grass stains off his own clothes as well.

"you did that on purpose, you pest." you snap at him. harry looks at you incredulously as he fixes his practice jersey. "are you mad? it was an accident, i wasn't looking where i was going, drama queen." he snaps back, giving you a dirty look up and down. you can feel your jaw clenching and fists balling at your sides. "oh yeah, sure, you just so happened to run into me of all people in the sky. you know, you're such a…"

you pause in your anger noticing a gash on the side of harry's face with blood starting to drip down his cheekbone. harry notices your concern and gives you a confused look. you sigh and instinctively pull down the sleeve of your sweatshirt to hold it against his wound. "now you have a giant cut on your face, for fuck's sake," you tell him, your voice a mix of panic and exasperation. harry winces at your hand making contact with his face, but his eyes grow with concern hearing your panic.

you turn to your team and start guiding harry towards the school. "practice is over, do not be late tomorrow." you announce to them hurriedly, trying to keep your sleeve against harry's injury as you rush him off the field.

harry actually manages to stay quiet on the way to the infirmary despite your anticipation to shush him the entire way for making crude jokes. instead he remains silent and lets you urgently guide him through the empty halls.

once you arrive at the infirmary wing, you notice the entire room is full of people. every bed is taken, ans every nurse is running around frantically from patient to patient. you and harry share a confused look before you roll your eyes and find a nurse between beds. "excuse me, ma'am, i'm sorry to bother but um, potter here was being an idiot and got a cut on his face that just needs to be bandaged quickly." you motion towards harry and feel him give you a nasty look out of your peripheral for calling him an idiot.

the nurse, completely exhausted, sighs and motions towards a room to the side of the check-in station. "look, we are swamped with a potion experiment gone wrong here. if it's just a cut that doesn't need stitches there's a first aid kit in the little room over that way." she tells you quickly before being called away to another patient. you try to intervene but she's already jogging away, leaving you with a bloody harry in your hands. literally.

you sigh, clearly annoyed, and turn to examine harry's cut again. pulling your blood-soaked sleeve away, you see the blood flow still hasn't slowed and decide to just bite your tongue and help harry despite your hatred for him only growing in this situation.

you drag harry towards the little room, opening the door and turning on the lights to reveal the smallest examination room you'd ever seen. you had no idea this was even here, but it only contained a sink, a cot, a locked medicine cabinet, and a first aid kit. you closed the door behind harry and locked it. you grab a few paper towels from next to the sink and walk harry over to the cot. "sit," you command him, practically pushing him with your other hand to sit down.

harry looks up at you softly, way softer than he's ever looked at you. it makes your heart skip a beat but you ignore the feeling quickly. "here," you tell him coldly, handing over the paper towels. "just apply pressure on it while i get the first aid kit."

harry does as he's told and you slowly pull away your sleeve, making a disgusted face at the stains left on the cuff. you sigh and pull your arm back through the sleeve, starting to take off the hoodie altogether. "well, that's ruined," you complain, throwing it to the floor, leaving you in a tiny tank top and workout shorts.

harry's watching you intently, adjusting his glasses and shifting his weight in his seat. you walk to the sink and thoroughly wash your hands in case any blood happened to get on you as well.

opening the first aid kit up you find a tiny bottle of isopropyl alcohol, cotton rounds, and bandages. pouring alcohol on the cotton, you turn to harry and still find him watching you.

you give him a look. "what?" you ask with pinched brows. harry, for once, looks flustered as he turns his eyes away from you, instead staring at the floor below his feet. you just roll your eyes and set down the alcohol, walking towards harry and pulling away his hand from his cheek.

"here," you say, moving his jaw to look up towards you. "this is gonna hurt a little," you tell him before gently cleaning the cut with the cotton round. harry winces, but his eyes never leave your face. you try to ignore his gaze but it becomes even more intense the longer you take to stop the bleeding. you can practically feel his stare burning holes into your skin, and you start to feel that familiar annoyance rise in your stomach.

"i know i'm pretty, potter, but can't you look anywhere else?" you complain, giving him a cold look before returning your attention to his cheek. harry's eyes drop again, but end up falling on your chest this time. you back away and scoff, throwing the cotton pad into the trash next to the cot. "perv," you mutter under your breath.

just as you're preparing the bandage on the counter next to the sink, you hear harry say something from behind you. "you're gonna have to speak up, kid," you chuckle, throwing away some wrapping in the trash. "your, um, your back," you hear him stutter.

you turn to give him a confused look. "what?" you ask. harry motions towards your back, and you turn to look at yourself in the mirror above the sink. you look at your back and pull up your tank top slightly to see a massive bruise forming on your ribcage. you gasp at the size and color, immediately turning your anger towards harry.

he already looks prepared for your rage before you can even start to say anything. "you bloody prick, i know you did this on purpose. do you seriously want to win so badly you'd nearly break a rib to get there?" you snap at him, pulling your shirt back down and angrily marching towards him still sitting on the cot.

"i told you, [y/n], it was an accident." he says. you pause. he's never called you by your first name, at least not to your face. you were actually surprised he knew what it was in the first place.

harry looks up at you innocently, his eyes soft and brows raised. this just angers you again. you take another step towards him, your legs practically between his as harry tilts his head up to keep looking at you.

his glasses are crooked, his hair is a mess, and the cut on his cheek is still raw. and still, for some reason, your heart skips a beat looking down at him. you've never been so close to his face. you've never noticed his freckles before.

"you should just be glad i haven't targeted you the way you've targeted me all these years, potter. you're lucky i'm a nice person and don't believe in revenge, or else you'd be the one with nearly broken bones and a bruise the size of your lungs." you spit in his face, your tone razor sharp.

harry's expression hardly changes at your words. if anything his eyes only soften more watching you become filled with anger.

"and wipe that innocent look off your face before i do it for you. you should be thanking me for patching up this cut and not making it worse." you continue to vent at him as you step away to grab the bandage from the counter.

you're just starting to press down on the adhesive of the bandage around harry's injury when his eyes meet yours again. "thank you." he says, his voice broken and whiny. something about the way he says it makes your stomach drop to the floor. harry's usual annoying temperament was completely gone, no longer making mocking jokes or insults towards you, instead only speaking softly and looking into your eyes even softer.

confused and feeling a strange mix of emotions, you finish applying the bandage on harry's face without a word.

you start to put away the first aid kit, taking one last look at your bruise in the mirror with a sigh.

"i'm sorry." you hear harry say quietly. you look at him, his expression empathetic and almost concerned for you. it was then you started to believe the incident really was an accident. why would harry ever be apologetic for something he'd usually take loads of pride in, like knocking you off your broomstick?

you swallow nervously and look away from him, fixing your shirt. "you should be," you try to remain cold, but your voice is breaking. "i'm just glad you also hurt yourself in the process. you deserve to feel some of the pain too." you say in a deadpan voice.

you pick up your sweatshirt off the floor and start soaking the sleeve in some hot water to at least try and get some of the stains out.

"you're right." harry says behind you, his voice somber. you roll your eyes at his pathetic attempt to seem remorseful, turning to him curtly. "i know i'm right. and you know what else? you're just a loser who picks on people to feel better about yourself because you're insecure." you insult him.

you expect at least some kind of reaction from harry, but he just continues to watch the ground with a sullen expression. "i know." he says quietly.

you groan and turn to shut the sink faucet off, walking towards harry with the same accusatory pointing finger from before. "and you can stop with this whole act you're putting on 'cause it's pissing me right off," you nearly yell at harry, getting in his face. he just looks up at you with those big blue eyes again, biting his lip harshly.

you went to scold him again when you noticed a rather large bulge in his pants from where you were standing above him. you thought you were just assuming, but once you took a step back, you knew exactly what was happening with a smirk growing on your face.

harry nervously looked down at his crotch before quickly attempting to hide his obvious erection. he adjusted his pants and tried to use his shirt to cover it, but you were already laughing at him. "this cannot be real, this has got to be a setup. there's no way you just got turned on by me insulting you for 10 minutes straight." you could hardly get the words out from laughing so hard.

clearly embarrassed, harry looks between you and his erection with fear in his eyes. it only makes the situation that much better for you as you continue to humiliate your own bully.

"u-uh, this isn't, um–" "don't try and tell me this isn't what it looks like, potter. i know exactly what's going on here." you interrupt him and cross your arms. "you're such a loser that the only way you can get off is by having girls hate you. y'know, most guys get erections from making out with a girl, not getting threatened by them." you mock him, still a hint of anger laced in your voice.

harry's looking at you with that same innocent expression, but there's something else in his eyes that makes you pause. he's not just embarrassed, he's actually enjoying what you're saying to him. you can see his pupils dilate just looking at you, his bulge only becoming more obvious the longer you mock him.

you want to be disgusted at this situation. you want to hate the way harry's looking at you and leave the room with a huff to tell everyone about his little kink. you want to call him a disgusting creep and slap him across the face for ever thinking of you in such a way. but, you don't. because you can't.

you should be disgusted. you should be creeped out. but, for some reason, you're just not. you should be filled with rage ready to tell him off again, but, instead, you find yourself full of curiosity and…flattery?

of course it's never flattering for a guy to get an erection thinking about you being upset with him, if anything it's quite morbid. however, with you and harry, everything finally started to make sense. this is why he was always pushing your buttons just to get a rise out of you, or why he seemed to thrive off of your heated interactions. because he did. he found pleasure in your anger.

again, you should be fuming, but you're just not. your heart is racing and so is your mind. you're completely flustered at this point, possibly even more than harry is. you can feel the blush on your neck and cheeks and can't tell if the embarrassment you're feeling is secondhand or not.

still looking up at you, harry attempts to cover his erection up again with his pants. you just laugh at him again as there's no real point, you're more than well aware of his predicament at the moment. his blush is so severe he's nearly completely red, and you can see his hair start to stick to his forehead from the sweat. while you'd usually feel nothing but contempt looking down at harry's innocent expression, this time you feel a bit different. he almost looks younger now, his eyes soft and lips slightly hung open.

you notice the bandage around his scar starts to lift a bit around his eye, so you sigh and place a hand on his bandage to help reattach it. again, harry almost winces at your movement, and you can see his erection twitch under his pants. god, he really does get off on this.

while fixing it, harry's still watching you intently. "i'm sorry," his voice is soft but deep, making your blood run cold. you pause to look him in the eyes. "and what are you sorry for?" you lead him on.

harry's brows furrow together slightly. "for…well, y'know," he trails off, offering a fake, awkward chuckle. you smirk as you look back at his bandage. "no, i don't know. so why don't you tell me, potter?" you ask teasingly.

without fail, harry shifts in his seat uncomfortably and tries to subtly hide his erection again. your smirk only grows at his predictability.

"u-uh, well, i-i'm sorry for…for, um, getting turned on by you…" his stuttering is only making you enjoy the moment more. maybe part of you likes seeing him squirm like this under your hand. "by me…?" you lead him on again, taking a step away to examine his bandage. harry swallowed nervously watching you. "by you…being mean to me." he says meekly, his voice small and embarrassed.

you smirk at him again and decide to test the waters. "good boy."

harry's face absolutely drains of color. you can practically see his heart thumping out of his chest. and, if you weren't wrong, his hands actually started shaking in his lap.

you start laughing again at his reaction, hardly able to hold back from how funny this situation was to you. harry potter, the school's bad boy, the top slytherin student, the quidditch captain, your biggest rival, has a literal kink for being degraded. and he had the nerve to ever try and call you a loser.

"sorry, it's just so funny to me," you tell him between laughs, wiping tears from your eyes. "actually, no, i'm not sorry. i think you deserve to be laughed at for this. what guy actually gets horny from girls being mean to him?" you ask rhetorically, crossing your arms again and examining harry in front of you.

he's completely disheveled and getting sweatier by the minute. he breaks eye contact after your question, nervously scratching the back of his neck to waste time. "uh…" he starts off, clearly not knowing what to say to that. you just continue smirking, watching him struggle. "i mean, is it every time a girl is mean to you this happens? i'd imagine with your attitude that would be pretty often." you joke, partially curious but mostly just trying to make him squirm more.

harry shakes his head, both of his hands rubbing at his face and wiping the sweat from his hairline. "n-no, it's, uh…" he starts again, eventually trailing off with a sigh. you start tapping your foot impatiently. "i'm waiting." you say in a mocking tone.

harry tenses again, still not looking back up at you just yet. his body language is clearly uncomfortable and defensive. "it's not…all girls, okay? it's just…you." he finally spits out, clearly struggling to put his thoughts into words. "this only happens with you, i swear. a-and it's only started this year, and i don't know why." he rambles, speaking with his hands, his eyes still fixated on the floor.

for once, you're speechless. you weren't expecting that confession from him, and you certainly didn't know how to react to it in the moment. i mean, this potter kid has had it out for you since day one, he's practically made you two enemies on the field and off, and now he wants to tell you all this? it's a bit confusing, to say the least.

harry sighs, resting his face in his hands once again. "look, i'm sorry about all of this, okay? all of it, not just today, but everything. i shouldn't have been so rude to you all this time, especially not for the reasons i have…" you can practically hear harry wincing at his own words. he uncovers his face but continues to look down. "just…please, please, don't tell anyone. i know that's asking for a lot considering all i've done to you, but…please, [y/n]." he's nearly begging.

you just watch him carefully, trying to figure out how to respond to all of this. on one hand you're inclined to feel insulted, disrespected, and downright disgusted at this information, but in reality…you're just obscenely curious. i mean, how often does a guy get turned on by you being mean to him? and not just you, but specifically, only you. does that mean he actually likes you? or is it only a sexual thing? and how would that even work?

as your mind continues to raise more and more questions, you feel yourself speaking before you even decide what to say.

"fine, i won't tell anyone. if," you take a slow step towards harry. he looks up at you with flushed cheeks and wide eyes. your heart leaps at the sight of him so vulnerable beneath you. it's as if you can see him thinking anything, anything for you.

you're not sure what's possessing you in this moment, but you can't stop yourself from pushing the limits further between you and harry. again, your mouth starts speaking for you.

"if…you let me help." you say with a smirk, closing the gap between you and harry and standing between his legs once again. he's looking up at you in complete shock, his eyes examining every inch of you in front of him. he's trying to speak but his mouth just keeps opening and closing, gasping for air and nervously chuckling.

arms still crossed, you wait for harry to say something and enjoy seeing him be the speechless one this time.

he eventually looks back up at you, biting his lip again and leaning back slightly. "help…me?" he asks, confused. you laugh at him, shaking your head. "yes, potter. help you. can't have you leaving here with that," you motion down to his pants with your head. "can we?" you ask seductively.

again, you're not sure what's making you act like this right now, but you honestly didn't mind it. you already got a kick out of insulting harry anyway, why not watch him struggle a bit harder under your thumb in this tiny exam room?

harry's completely frozen. you smile at him this time, the most genuine one you could muster in the moment. "if you want to, of course," you say quietly, softening your gaze at him and fixing his messy hair. harry makes a soft sound and leans into your touch, his eyes closing. you giggle to yourself, he just looks so innocent resting in your hand.

the moment didn't last long as you tighten your grip on the hair on the back of harry's head, pulling it so he's looking right at you. his eyes open and a soft whine escapes his lips. "i'll take that as a yes?" you ask smugly, leaning down until your faces were nearly touching. harry does his best to nod his head, swallowing nervously and glancing at your lips.

you smile at him again. something just felt so right when you were in control, seeing harry's front disappear as he became a mess in your hands. you felt powerful, confident, and, to your dismay, insanely turned on from the entire situation. your feelings of hate and desire for harry drove you mad, yet he seemed more than willing to be the recipient of both.

so, you lean forward, and you kiss him.

it's soft at first, slow, shy, you feel like harry's barely breathing. eventually he catches up, nearly moaning into your mouth as you feel your stomach fluttering. you put your other hand on his cheek and sit on harry's lap, your knees resting on the cot around harry's hips. you feel his hands tread carefully up your thighs and under your shorts, his fingers digging into your skin roughly.

this time you can't hold back your moans, causing harry to melt even more into you. his lips were soft, careful, but so eager. it's like he was starving and yet still took his time with you.

you pull away slightly, your breath heavy and forehead resting on harry's. "lay down," you command him, climbing off his lap. harry quickly lies back on the cot, kicking off his shoes in the process. you do the same before crawling back on top of him, carefully resting your ass directly on his erection.

harry openly groans, his hands reaching for your hips and squeezing the skin roughly. you bite your lip to hold back another moan. you slightly adjust your position and cause harry's head to roll back against the cot. "[y/n]..." is all he manages to say in his broken voice.

he's already such a mess and all you've done is sit in his lap. who would've known all this time his teasing you was just a cover up for this?

"this'll be easy. you're already practically falling apart on me, potter." you tease him, your cold fingers finding their way under his jersey. harry's body shivers, his hands moving from your hips to your waist. his fingers crawl under your shirt as well and cause your skin to break out in goosebumps.

he slightly smirks at this reaction, but you don't let him have his moment for long. "and don't get cocky," you warn him before you start grinding on his erection. his head rolls back in pleasure again, his mouth hanging open and fingers digging into your skin. you smirk to yourself. "don't forget you're the loser who likes to be insulted here." you remind him harshly, your hands running along his chest under his jersey.

harry's noises are completely pathetic, his hips bucking into yours for even the slightest bit more friction. you stop grinding into him and he lets out a shaky breath, looking at you with needy eyes. he looks so worked up already and you've barely done a thing.

"shirt off," you tell him, pulling at the material. harry, again, doesn't hesitate to follow instructions. he removes his hands from your waist and quickly takes off his jersey, throwing it to the floor.

your breath hitches in your throat looking at harry's soft, sweaty skin in the dim fluorescent lighting of the exam room. you never realized just how toned his shoulders and chest were, or how many scars and bruises he seemed to have, both new and fading.

you look back up at harry, his eyes nervously watching your every move. you lean in to kiss him again, messier, needier. his hands return to your hips and practically force you to start grinding on him again. you would've intervened if you weren't just as desperate to continue rolling your hips into harry's hard erection.

a soft moan comes from your lips as you grind into him harder, your hands resting on his chest for support. harry groans, his brows furrowing. "shit," he mutters, only encouraging you to go faster.

you could feel how wet you were through your panties. your stomach was tightening already, making you feel a bit embarrassed of your own desperation. seeing harry be so willing to please you only had you wanting him more.

just as you start to feel yourself blush at your lack of self control, you notice harry's panicked expression, his grip on your skin guaranteed to leave bruises. "what's wrong?" you ask, somewhat sarcastically and also concerned.

he struggles to get a sound out. "hmph, gonna, fuck, please, don't," he's stumbling through his words, barely able to keep his eyes focused on you. his hands try to stop your hips, but his grip his weak.

"stop what?" you ask curiously, slowing your hips slightly but rolling into him harder. harry moans, his hand covering his mouth hearing how loud it echoed through the tiny room. you just laugh at him and pull his hand away, guiding it to your chest. harry's eyes widen, trying to pull his hand away.

"stop, gonna…cum, if you don't," harry whimpers, squirming under your weight as his legs try to escape. you take your opportunity and pick up your pace, giving harry an evil smile.

"aw, already?" you ask, forcing his hand back to your chest. you guide his fingers along the curves of your breasts through your thin tank top, causing him to breathe even heavier. "you haven't even gotten to see these, and you're already about to cum? i was right, you're such a fucking loser, potter." you tell him, guiding his hand back under your shirt.

you can feel him struggling under you even more, his torso only getting sweatier. you just grab for his other hand and guide it under your shirt as well. he watches as intently as he can, his eyes still rolling back in pleasure at the pressure in his lap.

you help him lift his hands higher and higher until he's cupping your tits under your shirt, your breathing becoming hitched at the feeling of his rough fingers running across your sensitive nipples.

"fuck," you say under your breath, loud enough for harry to moan and grope you rougher, lifting your shirt above your tits. you gasp at the feeling and look back down at him, a sweaty mess with eyes barely open.

"please, please," harry starts begging, his hips still trying to squirm away from you. you place your hands on his sides and push him down, continuing to chase your high. "just stay still, harry," you nearly whimper. you realize you've never called him by his first name either.

that's when he comes completely unraveled beneath you. he's practically crying out in pleasure and desperation, his hands roughly squeezing the soft skin of your tits as his head is thrown back against the cot. just watching him fall apart like this has you shaking on top of him, feeling the warm wetness of your panties leaving a mark on harry's jeans.

it takes a few moments for both of you to come back to earth. harry's hands eventually loosen their grip on you before quickly pulling away, his eyes wide and panicked again. "sorry," he says quickly, his cheeks completely flushed.

you just shake your head and laugh, climbing off of harry's lap and adjusting your shirt. harry sits up and runs his hands through his hair, trying to catch his breath still.

the room is a bit awkward, but you eventually start to chuckle and push harry's shoulder lightly. "so…" you lead him on. harry chuckles as well, hanging his head low. "so…" he repeats, his voice still soft.

"so…is it wrong of me to assume you might actually like me?" you ask, picking up harry's jersey and handing it to him. he offers you a shy smile and puts it back on, shaking his head. "y'know, i'm not sure there's a way i could've made it more obvious." he admits half heartedly.

you laugh again, feeling a blush crawl up your cheeks. you turn away from him and grab your sweatshirt from the sink, the sleeve still completely stained.

"i really am sorry about that, i have a few you could borrow if you'd like." he says with a smirk, pointing towards your sweatshirt. you roll your eyes. "well, good to know your cockiness hasn't gone anywhere." you respond, suppressing a smile.

he chuckles. "never will." he says confidently. you give him a look and take a step towards him, causing him to swallow nervously.

you laugh at him again. "yeah, okay, pretty boy." you tease him, stepping away and towards the door. he follows behind you, still blushing like crazy.

leaving the exam room you notice all the nurses are still running around like lunatics, having no idea what's just happened only a few feet away from them. you and harry share a knowing look before running off together, laughing as you reach the halls.

"y'know," harry says between laughs, looking over at you with nothing but love in his eyes as you continue walking the empty halls. "don't think i'll go easy on you tomorrow just because of…that." he says, motioning behind him with a shy smile. you smile back at him and offer your hand. harry looks a bit hesitant, but shakes it anyway. "wouldn't want it any other way, potter."

tag list:

@gorlsinmultifandoms @treacletartlett @lucasinclairsgf @stvrlavs @dinomdubs

if you'd like to be part of my tag list, just leave a comment or message me! if you enjoyed this please let me know, your comments make my day <3

[asapeveryday]

SHOCK FACTOR ★彡PART 5

Prev. Next.

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Rival!Reader

Warnings: swearing

Summary: a lot of media attention and some solo time isn’t enough to keep paige away from you.

A/n: one more chap after this then we done 😛

YOU WAKE UP with a pounding headache, not as engulfing as last night but still enough to induce a groan as you lift your head from your pillow.

The hotel-white pillowcase is smeared with residual makeup and your hair feels tangled and unruly. It was surprising how well you slept, seeing as multiple things had happened the night before that should’ve kept you up till morning. You look around to see the hotel room is empty, then check your phone for the time. It’s 1:34pm, you’ve slept into the afternoon.

Your phone is absolutely filled with notifications.

JUJU-KINS😘

U up?

Coach is lit tweaking rn

U bouta be getting media trained FOR LIFE

ELAINEY 🤞

hey

can we talk pls?

ur only in town for a couple more days

it’s not as bad as it seems i swear

i was drunk

COACH

Call me when you see this message.

I hope you already know what you’ve done wrong so I don’t have to waste my time.

You’re smarter than this!

Collapsing on your bed again, you bury yourself in the sheets. Being in Connecticut had just turned out to be a nightmare, you’ve barely interacted with your teammates, your friendship with Elaine was ruined, you’ve had the most confusing relationship with Paige and you’ve made a fool of yourself online.

You shoot a quick text to Juju as well as some other teammates who’ve checked up on you, being sure to ignore Elaine’s texts. You find yourself re-reading your messages with Paige, thankfully your drunk brain hadn’t texted anything too out of pocket, and though you clearly remember her typing after your last message she hadn’t responded since then.

Your call with Coach was the most dreaded of all, you truly respected and feared her, so sitting through an almost half-hour phone call about your responsibilities, failures, expectations and repercussions was awful.

In short, you were to be off of social media until back in state, live privileges were fully revoked, if you were to be found partying and clubbing you’d be in massive trouble, you had to issue a statement on Instagram and twitter (which was pre-written by some professional), and the next practice you participate in will be the worst practice you’ve ever experienced in the history of bad practices. Most probably an insane amount of sprints.

You release your statements on Instagram and Twitter, but before deleting the apps you check out Paige’s comments. She’d obviously received a similar order. Her Instagram story consisted of a black screen and a small box of text, simply entailing how spreading love and positivity while uplifting other players is an obligation she intends to follow from this point onwards.

Her twitter had two new tweets:

paigebueckers1 : Me and (Name) have had some truly special experiences in college basketball. She’s an amazing player who is only gonna go higher and get better as she grows. When I was a junior I was stuck in crutches hoping for the chance I have now. (Name) as a junior herself is absolutely killing it on the court and I for one will always be rooting for her, competitive comments online or not. Keep doin what you’re doin @yourusername !

paigebueckers1 : God is good! 🙏

Turning your phone off, the only thing you’re thinking is ‘you’re so full of shit.’

You wonder if she wrote that herself or if somebody wrote it for her and made it seem like it was her own typing. Regardless, it didn’t matter anymore. You’d had your experience with the Big East Champion, and it was enough for a lifetime.

The amount of content coming out regarding you and Paige was insanely overwhelming. Debates online regarding your skills, looks, personality and basically anything the public can grasp were rampant. You and Paige had been a bit of a scandal ever since she shaded you on that panel, and the media had been seriously following you two back and forth between the seemingly friendly interactions and more hostile ones.

Eventually you stumble upon something different. A video of you and Paige in the background of KK and Ice’s live that day in the coffee shop. You can see yourself fumbling with napkins, and Paige approaching. It’s almost entrancing to see everything play out from another perspective, to see how her face eases into a smile at your smartass comments, to relive your own amused emotion at her stare, to watch Paige speedily write her number on a napkin before the camera shifts and the live ends.

You’re unsure how to react to all of this. No matter how close or far you could get with Paige, would it ever amount to anything? To the slightest bit of trust? Her lips were almost on yours that evening in the street, but just an hour earlier she had lied to your face about knowing Elaine.

You recall what Elaine drunkenly spat out during your argument outside the bar.

“N’ I’ll tell you what. She’s going to play your ass and you’re never gonna get over it, cus that’s what she does.”

Was this spoken out of experience, or a mixture of jealousy and intoxication? Had Elaine once been that girl on the street, inches away?

You can’t help but think it wasn’t the case. Paige bit her tongue around you to stifle a laugh or to hold back a rebuttal to your teasing. When it came to Elaine, Paige bit her tongue in a different way. A loathing way. You couldn’t explain it.

Plus, Elaine had said herself that you were not Paige’s usual type. If she meant you and her were not alike, that was the truth. You and Paige had more of a history, more similar lifestyles and experiences, more. At least you assumed so.

Finally, you decide you’ve done enough thinking for the day. It was time to line up some plans, maybe meet up with the team for a couple hours and then hoop solo in the evening. Anything to distract from the situation.

-

The sound of a basketball against the blacktop, the hollow bounce that always found itself back to your hand. It’s sustenance to you, it’s breathing.

Storrs had been blessed with a hotter Sunday then usual, even in your shorts and t-shirt you were sweating, shooting hoops the same way you’ve been doing since you were a child.

The court was empty and outdoors, perfect for you to hold the ball for a moment and admire the scenery, the changing colours of the sky as afternoon fades to evening.

You hear the bounce of a ball again, but yours is secured in your hand.

“Hey.”

You’re not surprised to see her. The sink in your stomach as you meet her eyes in almost predictable.

“What are the chances.” You scoff. “Don’t you have like, the entire UConn gym to hoop?”

“I come to this court all the time.” Paige narrows her eyes. “It’s usually peaceful.”

“I figured.” You say curtly, turning your head to see the setting sun. It was very peaceful, even with the impending silence between you and the blonde.

“How drunk were you last night?” Paige asks.

You spin around to give her a look. “Drunk enough to get on live,” You scoff. “but sober enough to read a text and send it without regrets.”

At the mention of your short conversation with Paige over text, you can see her cringe. She obviously hadn’t been expecting you to find out about her relationship with your friend, let alone be so upfront with it.

“I never fucked her in my car…just so you know.” She finally manages to breath out.

You almost bark out a laugh at this. “You think I’m mad cus you fucked her?” You ask, walking towards Paige and lightly dribbling the ball. She simply stares at you, mouth slightly agape.

“Are you not?”

“Is the blonde fucking seeping into your head?” You snap, mentally celebrating as her lips forms a straight line. “If you don’t know, you better figure it out.”

Paige brings a hand to her face, rubbing her forehead as if it’s aching. Her eyes are wide and analyzing you, thinking of the best way to respond.

“Go on,” you tease her. “tell me why I’m mad.”

You’re close to her now, too close for comfort. You can see her smile lines, her plush lips, her silver chain glinting beneath the black long sleeve she’s wearing. The sleeves are rolled up, and you can’t help but noticed how veiny her arms are, how her long fingers are holding the basketball against her body.

Biting her lip, Paige finally responds. “You’re mad because I lied.”

“Smart girl.” You scoff, almost choking on your breath when her jaw clenches at your comment. “I’m mad cus you lied to my face. And cus you went on live and shit talked me again for no reason.”

You and her stare at each other for a long moment before she breaks a smile. “That was my bad.” She murmurs. “I was uh, Ion’ know. I was in sum kinda mood.”

“The mood to lie?” You raise your eyebrow. “Or the mood to be a bitch?”

“Don’t call me a bitch.” She scowls, and you’re reminded of the last time you called her that, at the end of your game against UConn.

“That’s what you are, Bueckers.” You say with a smile, eyeing her down and getting in her face just a little more. “Bitches lie, bitches make problems out of nothing.”

Her eye is fiercely trained on you, on the way your lips move as you degrade her. You can’t tell what she’s thinking in the slightest.

“(Name), I’m sorry.” She says softly.

Once again you two are staring in silence. The proximity is intoxicating, you can practically smell her clean clothes.

“Are you still fucking Elaine?”

“Hell no.” Paige shakes her head furiously. “That ended a while ago. We haven’t talked in like months.”

“She still has your location.” You grumble. “That’s how she knew I was with you at the restaurant.”

“Shit.” Paige groans, immediately pulling out her phone. “She interrupted us on purpose then? Psycho.”

You watch as she turns off her location for Elaine and blocks her before slipping her phone back in her pocket.

“We didn’t hookup for long.” Paige says, obviously feeling the need to explain herself. “Jus a couple times. I broke things off, she couldn’t accept how busy my schedule was.”

You shrug, not knowing what to say.

“Guess she couldn’t accept you and me either, huh?” Paige smirks, shooting you a ‘forgive me’ type look.

Ignoring the swell in your heart at the stupid comment, you just chuckle and shake your head.

“Do you wanna 1v1?” She asks almost sheepishly.

You think for a moment.

“You sure I’m on your level?”

Paige looks embarrassed for a moment, remembering what she said on her live. “Quit playin.” She rolls her eyes. “C’mon, show me what you got.”

-

You’d be lying if you were to say you knew the score.

Was she taking score? You and Paige were equally insanely competitive, but this wasn’t a true test of skill. This was a test of endurance. A test to see who would break first.

You knew this when her hand grazed your waist as she darted past you to the other end of the court, or when she stared you down, tongue between her lips as she blocked your shot. You retaliated yourself, letting your hand linger a bit too long as you helped her up from the ground after tripping her up, or whistling at her as she makes another three.

The heavy breathing, the piercing stares, the cold air as the sun disappeared. You were in a zone you’d never been in before, somehow equally focused on the game and the girl.

You manage to steal the ball from Paige in a swift moment, but suddenly she’s in front of you again. Her hands dart for the ball, attempting to smack it out of your hand. She almost manages to steal it back, but your grip tightens just at the right moment.

She’s stuck to you, her hands attempting to pry the ball out of your own. You can hear her breath, you can see the beaded sweat on her forehead, you can feel her blue eyes watching you, watching your chest widen and shrink with every inhale and exhale, watching your lips.

It’s a replay of the college game that started all of this.

You struggle for a moment longer before the tousle is not longer controlled, the ball slips between both of your sweaty hands. You and Paige both scramble to save it, but it bounces out of your grasps and away from the court.

Neither of you chase after it.

She’s still up close to you, face flushed from the game.

“What was the score?” She huffs, out of breath. Paige’s voice is raspy and tired. You feel something spark inside of you.

“No clue.”

Paige’s face breaks into a small smirk as her hands find your waist, uncertain and soft, just barely ghosting your frame. “That was my ball.”

“Shut up.” You mumble, your heart hammering at the feeling of her eyes exploring every part of you, lingering on your lips before she finally leans in.

Paige’s lips are rough against yours, but fit perfectly as if moulded for your own. She melts into you, her hands finally tightening around your body, her face tilting just right so she can finally taste you. It’s something you didn’t know you’d been waiting for. She kisses with a million emotions, with urgency, passion and the slightest bit of control. It’s electrical.

When you need to break the kiss to breath, you simply tug on her ponytail. You were not expecting the slight whimper as your lips part.

“M’ not done.” She mutters against you, catching her breath.

“I want you, P.” You whisper, looking up at her. Paige’s face immediately changes at this, lips tilting upward in an annoyingly charismatic way.

“I know you do, baby.” She murmurs. “Let me take you home.”