#conor gallagher x reader

[neverinadream]

I Met A Boy, He Broke My Heart

Summary: Nothing is ever as it seems....

Pairing: Conor Gallagher x Fem!Reader

Requested: Nope

Song Inspo: Snow Angel - Renee Rapp

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, smut, pre-established relationship, boyfriend!conor, dom!conor x sub!reader, dirty talk, pet names (baby, princess...), praise kink, degradation kink, body appreciation, spitting nipple play, choking, eye contact, hair pulling, teasing, mentions of ownership, fingering, oral (female receiving), again read the summary, not edited, i mean it read the summary....

Notes: this is my first conor fic....FINALLY.....gonna convert you all into conor girlies because he's the perfect package, the end is messy and clunky and i apologise for it, but i wrote it when i was tired and cba to change it. feedback is always appreciated.

His lips linger on your skin, tracing the column of your neck, breathing in the sweet citrus and vanilla scent of last night's body wash that still lingered on your skin. The smell was intoxicating to him. Drove him crazy every time you were close enough for him to smell it. It was borderline addictive. Tipping your head back with a soft whimper, he works his mouth against the base of your neck, groaning approvingly as you slide his hand under your shirt, squeezing his hand firmly against your bare breast.

He chuckles, nipping playfully at your neck, tracing the area with his tongue to ease the pain. The bowls you had both eaten your breakfast out of that morning peeked out from under the water's surface, becoming increasingly forgotten about as his mouth and hands continued to explore your body. "Thought you were trying to do the dishes?" He grips your hip tightly, stopping you from grinding back into him.

"And I thought you were jumping straight in the shower?" You grin back at him, dropping the sponge into the sink, causing soft ripples to form in the soapy water.

He shrugs, bringing his lips close to your ear. "Thought I'd get some more cardio in first," he whispers, his voice low enough to flip your stomach and make you feel dizzy. Unable to resist the temptation, he lets his tongue trace the shell of your ear, grinning when he feels you shudder against him. "Perhaps even have a post work out snack," he nips at your lope, rolling it softly between his teeth and only letting go when he hears you whimper his name.

"Then you better check the fridge to see what we've got in."

"But the thing I want is organic," Conor replies, pulling you tighter against him, "something that's all-natural, and sweet on my tongue."

You chew your bottom lip, hiding a smile. "I'm sorry, baby," you amuse him, "I don't think I know what that is."

He leans closer, pressing his lips to your cheek, leaving a kiss behind. "Don't you worry," he chuckles, loving when you played along with his jokes, "I know exactly what I want to eat."

He rolls your nipple under his thumb, feeling it harden from his touch, before pinching it and giving it a soft tug. Soft fingertips caress your skin as he moves his hand across to the other, repeating the same thing as before. "Feel so fucking perfect in my hands, baby," Conor groans, his cock twitching in his shorts from cupping your whole breast and firmly squeezing it.

Your hand circles his other wrist and guides it down the front of your shorts, skimming his fingers over the soft baby blue silk of your panties. "Need you here," you mumble, finding his eyes as you rolled your head back against his chest. They were pools of the purest water, his own personal ocean, there for you to drown deeper in each time you looked into them. And like every addiction, they might just kill you.

"You sure, baby?" He chuckles at your whines as he pulls his hand back. "Don't you want to finish these dishes first?"

You didn't care about the damn dishes when his hand was stuffed down the front of your shorts, so close to where you ached for him the most. "Conor, please," you begged, pushing your hips and grinding your ass back into his cock, "touch me; touch what's yours."

"Mine?"

You look directly into his eyes, guiding his hand back to where it had been before. "Yours," you reply with confidence.

He presses his fingers against the front of your panties, rubbing you in tight circles through the soft material, humming when you spread your legs further for him. He watches you suck your bottom lip between your teeth, gnawing at the soft flesh, feeling your body ignite with the first burning embers of pleasure. But he didn't like to see you trapping your desperate whimpers behind your teeth. He wanted you to be loud, for your moans to reverberate off the walls, for the neighbours to complain about the noise.

He wanted everyone to know whose good girl you were.

He removes his hand from under your shirt, pulling your bottom lip away from between your teeth. "Let me hear it, baby," he encourages, settling his hand around your throat, "be nice and loud for me." He dips to kiss you, tasting something sweet as his tongue moves against yours. Strawberries. Raspberries. A hint of Kiwi. The fruit you had both eaten. All still there for him to taste. It made his cock twitch and strain painfully against his shorts, and he couldn't resist sucking the sweet taste off your tongue. "Let the neighbours know who's making this a good morning for you," he murmurs against your mouth, finding the strength to pull away.

Pulling your panties to the side, he teases his fingers along the slit of your folds, spreading the first flooding of your arousal from your needy hole to your clit. He'd barely touched you when you let out a soft cry, lifting your hips to meet his hand. "All of this is mine, yes?" You nod your head, whimpering at his fingers circling the edge of your tight hole, teasing and torturing it, leaving it to flutter around nothing. He circles your wetness around your clit a few times, changing direction from circles to harsh strokes up and down against the swollen bud, and smirks feeling you squirm against him. "Let me hear it, say it's mine."

"It's yours," you tell him, grinding your hips back against him, whimpering at his cock nudging between the crack of your ass, "every bit of this body is yours."

He tightens his hand around your throat, leaving a slight strain on your neck as he pushes your head further back. You had no choice but to look into his eyes, forcing yourself to keep them open, watching his darken in colour when he sinks a finger into you. Its long length fits perfectly inside, and he grunts approvingly, your cunt clenching for him. "So tight," he pulls his finger out and pushes it deeper inside, pulling a whine from your lips, "need to stretch you out before my cock can fit." His movements are slow and drawn out to tease you, and he gets off on the frustration building in your eyes.

"Conor, please!"

"Want another one, baby?" His fingers pull out and tease your hole, circling it with a second one. Your answer comes in the form of a whine, a noise so desperate and embarrassing, that it makes his cheeks twitch. He searches your eyes, grunting as his cock twitches at finding more frustration in them. "Desperate for them, aren't you, princess? Just want me to fuck this dirty little cunt until it's dripping all over my hand, huh?" His mouth was filthy and you had the right mind to wash it out with the soapy water in front of you. He strokes his fingers through your folds, spreading the wetness to the parts around your pussy, ignoring where he knew you needed him to touch. "Beg me," he decides to keep playing with you, "beg me to finger fuck this pussy and I'll let you cum for being such a good girl."

A frustrated cry leaves your lips, "Conor, baby, I need you to make me cum."

"How badly do you want it?"

"So badly," it was nothing more than a desperate whine, your lips forming a pout for him to see, "please."

"So pretty when you beg for it," he purrs, sliding his hand up your throat, pinching your jaw open to him. You watch with wild eyes, sticking your tongue out to catch the spit that pools in his mouth, Conor groaning as it drips off his tongue, his cock pulsating as you swallow it. "Always obedient," he mumbles, rubbing his fingers on your clit in tight circles, "doing as you're told like the perfect pup."

He sinks two fingers into you, teasing out a breathless whine, stretching your cunt and scissoring them to fill you up more. "Just swallowing my fingers, baby," he groans, pushing them deeper, "proper greedy for 'em."

A new flush of arousal drips down his fingers as the heel of his palm pushes against your clit, grinding onto it every time you bucked or rolled your hips. He keeps up the same pace, curling his fingers to stroke the spot that turned your knees to jelly, pushing harder against it when your moans start getting louder. It licks up your spine, disbursing tingles of pleasure through every fibre of your body.

"So good," you whimper, reaching behind you, palming his bulge through his shorts. He lets out a breathless moan, thighs tensing and hips rolling as he tries to grind his cock against your hand. "Don't-don't stop-Gonna cum-"

"Not yet," Conor rips his hands from your shorts, pushing you to bend over the counter, "spread your legs, baby." He drops to his knees, peeling down your shorts, groaning at the damp spot on the soft silk of your panties. "Fucking look it," he licks his lips, pressing his thumb to the spot. You shiver feeling his tongue press flat against your cunt, teasing and tasting you through the baby blue silk. He cleaned away what had leaked through the material, gathering the wetness on his tongue, humming at the taste, before quickly ripping your panties down.

He tapped your knees, "wider," squeezing your bum approvingly as you spread your feet wider.

A flush of warmth heats your face, feeling his hungry gaze on your hot centre. "So fucking pretty," he mumbles, pressing a kiss over your clit, giving it a teasing lick, "all nice and pretty all just for me."

A soft moan teases past your lips, your hips rocking against his mouth, moving with his tongue as he sits it flat against your bare cunt, licking from your clit to your leaking hole. Fingers tangle quickly in his long locks, your arm craning back to touch him, pulling on his hair as much as you could as he sucks your clit into his mouth, rolling the swollen bud over his tongue.

"Fucking sweet," he hums, mouth salivating, the taste of your bursting on his tongue.

"Found that sweet thing you wanted then."

He chuckles, smiling against you, "I did."

You tug on his hair as he teases the tip of his tongue against your hole, his hand coming under your body to rub on your clit. "Shit-just like that," you gasp, resting your head against the counter, panting as you feel his tongue pushing inside. He retreats, grinning at the high pitched whine it pulls from you. "Conor," you grumble, tugging on his hair.

He grunts, liking the bit of pain that comes with it. "Just relax," he murmurs against you, licking through your folds again, "lemme have a little fun first." He keeps his fingers pressed against your clit, keeping the pressure light to tease you. "Wanna make you feel good, baby."

"Feels so good," you affirm, curling his hair around your fingers, opening your mouth on a quiet moan when he moves his fingers, sucking on your clit. The inside of your thighs were a mess, sticky from the wetness dripping down them, and though you couldn't see, you could picture the mess you had created on his face. It made your stomach flip. "Conor, please," you beg, rocking your hips once more against his tongue.

Conor...

Conor.

Conor?!

You lay awake, heart pounding fast in your chest, the darkness around you tricking your eyes with misformed shapes and shadows. The the time 03:32 blinked back at you on your girlfriend's alarm clock. Another night. Another dream.

You groan at the thin layer of sweat sticking to your skin, wiping some of it off the back of your neck with your pyjama sleeve. Vic, who slept peacefully, with her back turned to you, the black lace of her night set standing out against her porcelain skin, remained undisturbed as you kicked your side of the covers off. You didn't know what she would think, or how she would react if she knew you had spent the night dreaming about your ex-boyfriend.

Vic knew Conor as that guy who broke your heart. And he did. But also loved it too.

Grabbing your phone, you tip-toe into the rest of Vic's apartment, so as not to wake her. She always worked the early shifts, so you made sure to respect her desire for a stable sleep pattern.

Standing at the sink, you knocked the tap off with your elbow and lifted the glass to your lips, taking a small sip of the cold water. It didn't help to stop you from staring at your and Conor's old text messages, the old memories coming to life as you scrolled through the old thread, but it did help to dampen your dry mouth.

I dreamt of you tonight.

You reread the last message, a confession sent to you two weeks after your break up. No, I miss yous, or I'm sorry, just that. And now you knew how he must have felt sending that so soon after your break up, adrenaline shooting through your veins and a pang of guilt in your belly.

Quickly, your fingers tap against your screen, repeating the message word for word, before clicking send without a second thought to it.

———————

Taglist: @shanoontje @maseandkepa @theblxefox @blueathens  @ofxinnocence @mrschilly @geek-and-proud @in-my-body-bag @laurasstufff1 @mountchilly @spicysainz @thoseboysinblue @kickinganddriving @lizzypotter14 @bracedes @chilwellspulisic @notsoattractivearenti @swimmingismywholelife @lovelynikol16 @masonsrem @landoslover @kathb59 @greykitkepa

[swimmingismywholelife]

All I Want (For Christmas)

Summary: The months of arguing finally comes to a head on what was supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year.

Warnings: ANGST, toxic relationship, reader is wine drunk for the beginning, panic attacks, loud arguments, heartbreak, lovers-to-exes, yes he's really doing this on Christmas

WC: 2.3K

A/N: 🎶On the fourth day of Ficmas my writer gave to me, Conor but make it angsty 🎶 Hello I hope you're all enjoying Ficmas so far! ! I don't normally write for Conor but here's a gift from me to all the Conor girlies! I hope I do him justice!

Link For the Song: All I Want (For Christmas)

"If we can make it through December

Maybe we'll make it through forever

'Cause all I want for Christmas

Is you and me to fix this."

~~~

"Are you fucking serious, Conor?!" you screamed, walking into your house and storming into the kitchen.

"I really can't be bothered with this right now, Y/N. You're drunk right now. Let's just wait until the morning before we have this discussion," he said exasperated, slamming the door behind him.

You turned to face him seething. "You knew how important this was for me! And yet, somehow you made this about yourself!"

Conor slammed his hands on the counter. "For fucks sake! I showed up didn't I!? What more do you want from me?!"

"You were so late you might as well have just not come! You completely embarrassed me!" you screamed.

"I told you I had a thing for the team I couldn't skip! I tried, I really did, but I couldn't get out of it! How many times do I have to explain that to you?!" he yelled in reply.

This wasn't the first time you'd fought about this exact issue. It was a recurring disagreement you and your boyfriend constantly had. You had always prided yourself on being flexible and understanding with him and his busy schedule, but these days it felt like you never saw eye to eye.

Tonight was supposed to be a date night to celebrate a promotion at your job. You'd been talking about it for weeks and both of you were excited for it, only for Chelsea to host an event on the same night that Conor unfortunately couldn't skip as one of the vice captains. Conor explained that he would probably be late, but you never expected he would show up almost 3 hours after your reservation. By the time he sat down, you were on your 6th glass of wine seething. Rather than a joyous celebration, your dinner was incredibly tense and awkward.

Cancelled dates weren't a new concept for you. There had been many times, especially once the season started, that something in his schedule prevented you spending time together. Usually it didn't bother you as much, but these days it felt like you weren't important enough for him. Tonight was supposed to be something to celebrate you, but it felt like you always had to sacrifice you for him, but he was never willing to do the same for you. And with alcohol coursing through your veins, the anger was all you could focus on.

"You should've just changed the date to a different one once I told you Chelsea wouldn't let me skip this event!" he said.

"I shouldn't have to!" you screamed back. "All the time, it's me making sacrifices for you! For once, I'm asking you to act like I'm a priority in your life!"

"You're being unreasonable!" he said, exasperated that you weren't listening to him. "I tried to get out of this! I asked Poch, I asked the staff, I even asked my fucking manager if there was any possibility of either changing the date or skipping it altogether so I could celebrate my girlfriend's promotion, but I couldn't. That's how it works! You knew that when you committed to this relationship."

"So now it's burden for me to ask you to celebrate me?!" you asked. "I've been to every fucking one of your events. Every home game, every final, every award ceremony, whether it be for club or country. I'm there whenever you ask me to be. And suddenly, I want the same from you and it's my fault?!"

"You're clearly not listening to me! When did I say you were a burden?" Conor asked. "You know what, why the fuck do I even bother with you? You never listen to anything except what you wanna hear. I'm sorry I was late. I'm sorry this turned out to be such a shitty night. But I'm not apologizing for standing my ground when you're twisting my words and trying to claim I've never done anything for you!"

"If you don't wanna bother, then get the fuck out! See if I care! Maybe someone who actually bothers can come celebrate with me!" you screamed, your words cutting Conor deep.

"And of course, that's the only part of the conversation you hear," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Fine. If that's what you fucking want. Come find me when you're ready to actually talk."

Conor turned around, grabbed his keys and wallet, and stormed out of the house. You leaned your back to the refrigerator and slid down to the ground, tears streaming down your face. You hugged your knees to your chest as loud gasps left you. You felt like you couldn't breathe, like you were drowning in your emotions. You sat there for what felt like hours, your body shaking as your sobs grew more intense.

The moment he walked out, you immediately regretted everything you said and sobered up. You knew you were being unfair to him. You could've changed the date. You could've been more understanding. It wasn't like he planned this on purpose. He never did. Conor was always grateful for your unwavering support and felt horrible whenever he couldn't do the same for you because of his job. Regardless, he always made it up to you and always proved that he cared about you. You let your frustration build up and unfairly took it out on him.

They say drunk words are sober thoughts. And yes, while you did feel all of those thoughts to an extent, you knew that at the end of the day, he was always more than enough for you. And the moments you spent with him made all of those frustrations worth it.

Conor never came home after that. You tried calling him, but he never answered. You tried calling his closest friends, his family, and even his manager about his whereabouts, but none of them gave you an answer. They all refused to at his request. You only knew that he was safe somewhere. They all told you the same thing anyway: that the two of you desperately needed space. But you didn't want space. You just wanted him. You wanted him to know how sorry you were, that you didn't mean any of what you said.

Days turned to weeks. The air grew colder and Conor still wasn't home. Fall flew by as you wallowed in your loneliness, becoming bitter as the holidays approached.  You tried decorating the house to lift your mood, but all you felt was pain. You wanted to hear back from him. You wanted to see him. You wanted him to come home to you. Even the snow outside, one of your favorite things about this time of year, couldn't mend your broken heart.

It was the night before Christmas. You were cleaning the kitchen when you heard the doorknob turn, the sound of keys clinking together stopping you in your tracks. You weren't sure who it is, your hand instinctually grabbing for a knife in case it was an intruder.

"Y/N?" you heard a voice call out.

You let out a sigh of relief and dropped the knife at the sound of your boyfriend.

"In the kitchen!" you called out.

As the footsteps grew louder, so did your heartbeat. Your hands grew sweaty, wiping them on the towel to try and stop them from shaking so much. This was the first time you'd be seeing him in weeks after all.

Your heart stopped when you laid eyes on Conor, taking note of his appearance. He looked more tired than you'd ever seen him, including after long flights for matches he'd taken. In any case, it didn't matter to you. All that mattered was that he was home.

"Hi," you said softly.

"Hey," Conor replied. "Can we talk?"

"Yeah, of course," you said wiping the counter. "Let me just finish up here, okay?"

"I'll wait for you in the living room," he said, turning to walk away.

Your stomach turned as you finished up your cleaning, unsure of what was about to unfold in front of you. Something told you that this wasn't going to be a happy ending. But you tried to be positive. Maybe you were just in your own head. Maybe you were overthinking. Everything was gonna be fine. You'd had been arguments before and you'd worked through them. This was just another one of those.

After enough stalling, you headed into the living room where Conor was waiting for you. You both sat down on the couch a distance away from each other. It was unusual considering you were usually attached at the hip.

'We're already off to a bad start," you thought to yourself.

"How have you been?" Conor asked you politely.

"Losing my mind," you said sarcastically. "I haven't heard from you in weeks! No one would tell me where you were or what you were doing. I tried asking around, but no one was willing to tell me any specifics."

"That’s' because i asked them to," he replied.

"What?" you asked alarmed. "Why?"

"Because we needed space, Y/N," he answered, running his hands through his hair. "And I needed time away where I could really think without me running back to you or vice versa. That's not what either of us needed."

"You're talking about what you needed! What about what I needed?" you asked. "Not knowing where you were drove me mental! You could've at least told me where you were!"

"See, this," he gestured to you, "this is exactly what I'm talking about. You and I both know you would've gone to where I was staying to talk and it would've ended in a bigger argument, or I would've come back here and we would've ignored the problem. And we can't keep trying to ignore this problem."

"We're not ignoring the problem, Conor," you said exasperated.

"Yes, we are," Conor said sternly. "We have been for a while now. And I think you know that too."

Silence fell as the air grew more tense. The bad feeling in your stomach only grew.

"We've been arguing about the same things for months now," he started. "And we've both tried to make changes but obviously something isn't clicking between why we're fighting and how we're trying to change it."

"I mean, we've just gotta keep doing what we're doing right?" You asked. "Keep trying different things until we find the right solution?"

Conor looked at you, tears in his eyes. "Y/N, we can't keep doing this over and over again expecting the result to be different this time."

You were confused. "What do you mean 'this?' We're working through our issues like we always do."

"No, Y/N, we're not. And we haven't been for a while."

"Wh-wh-what are you saying?" you stanmered out. "What does that even mean?"

"Y/N, I love you, you know I do. And I always will. But we can't keep doing this anymore. I can't keep doing this anymore. I can't give you what you're asking for and you can't give me what I'm asking for either. That's where the problem lies," Conor said. "So that's why-"

You cut him off, shutting your eyes as tears began rapidly falling down your face. "Don't fucking say it! Don't you dare fucking say it! We can make this work! We can do something else! We can do anything else except for what you're gonna say next! It doesn't have to resort to that!"

"Y/N, look at me," Conor said, cupping your cheeks. You averted your gaze and tried to pull away, but his grip was strong. You couldn't help but melt into him.

"Y/N. I love you. But this is hurting us more than it's helping," he said, tears forming in his own eyes. "We need to end this. And this is the only way it can end without us hating each other."

"Speak for yourself!" you sobbed. "It's fucking Christmas, Conor, and you have the nerve to fucking dump me?! How could you do this to me?!"

"I know," he said, pulling you in close. You didn't have the heart to push him away, collapsing into his arms. "I know and I'm a fucking dickhead and I'm sorry. But I can't let us keep doing this, pretending to be happy throughout the holidays when we both know we're not happy."

Conor held you as you fell apart, desperately trying not to let the tears fall from his own eyes. He needed to be strong for the both of you. You gripped the collar of his shirt tightly, knowing that the moment you let go, he would be gone. Your body shook and loud wails left you.

"We can f-fix this!" you cried. "We can! We're meant to be together remember? We can get through anything!" Conor kissed the top of your head, trying to savor these very last minutes with you.

You held onto to each other for what seemed like hours, trying to memorize the way your bodies fit together. You wanted to remember his scent, the warmth his body gave you, how safe you felt with him, how these were the moments that made fighting for this relationship worth it. This moment was all you had left with him and you wanted to savor every second of it.

Eventually, Conor pulled away. And you had no choice but to let go of him.

"I'll come 'round sometime to pack my stuff once the new year starts," he said gently. "I think for now we just need to be with our families."

He kissed your forehead before standing up to leave. He reached for the doorknob, turning around to look at you one last time.

"Please stay," you begged. "This doesn't have to be it. We can fix this."

He shook his head in disagreement. "We can't, Y/N."

"Please, Conor," you cried. "I love you."

"I love you too," he said, "more than anything. And that's why I have to go."

Painfully, Conor turned around and opened the door for the last time. And as the door closed behind him, you fell to the ground sobbing, hoping for a Christmas miracle that he would come back to you.

But he never did. And it was too late to fix it this time.

Taglist: @thoseboysinblue @neverinadream @notsoattractivearenti @lovelynikol16 @pulisicsgirl @lizzypotter14 @shadowscorch @nyctophilic0vitnir

[melanieph321]

SEVEN DAYS OF REQUESTS!!!

Okay, now that my Ruben and Trent fic Dark Rivalry is coming to an end, it's time to go through some of your requests!" 🔥

⭐️ Next week I'm only writing requests, all of which you can read for free on Tumblr and Wattpad.

😱 The goal is to write and post one request a day, so send in AS MANY ideas as you can.

I'm also open to write for anyone, even non footballers, so you Mason Mount, Charles Leclerc and Erling Haaland lovers, DON'T be afraid to send in your requests as well! 😝😝😝

Ciao!

[fletchysohot]

V.

Lil' Blue Euros Star

You and Conor have been apart for way too long and he's worried about the next game in the Euros. Happy international break guys!

Word count: 2.7k

You adjust yourself against the pile of pillows stacked haphazardly against the headboard of your bed waiting for the FaceTime call to connect. Once the call connects your face falls when Conor doesn't greet you with his usual giddy smile. . The seemingly permanent brightness in his eyes has been replaced by a certain veil of dullness, his hair unstyled, messy, and unwashed,  his sticky locks falling against his cheek, framing the dark circles that have formed under  his eyes now absent of their cerulean spark. 

“Conor,” you let out and he just offers you a weak smile in return, most likely an attempt at calming your worries. 

“Are you feeling okay babe?” you ask him , your voice full of concern. 

“Yeah,” he says, laying his cheek on the pillow, a content sigh escaping his pale peach coloured lips, “just tired… been training hard.”

“You look awful.” Your eyebrows knit together in concern at the sight of the state the man is in.

“Thanks," he laughs, the skin by his eyes crinkling as a chuckle escapes his mouth. “I missed you too.”

“I'm sorry, I-” you fumble looking for words, trying your best to salvage the situation you've gotten yourself into. 

“I know,” he smiles reassuringly, nuzzling his face against the pillow to get more comfortable. “Do I really look that bad though?”

Your face must give away the answer since the man sighs, rubbing his tired face. “I just haven't been sleeping that well, you know?"

“Jude's snoring that bad?” You chuckle, trying to get him to light up, silently hoping that is the problem and it's nothing more serious.

“No, no,” he says absentmindedly, “Jude's a good roommate…”

“What's the issue then?” You search his face hoping for a hint of an answer or something to ease your mind. Conor would sometimes get nerves before big away games but this seemed different. 

The answer doesn't come instantly, your boyfriend looking around just to avoid meeting your gaze, slight shame clouding his features. 

“Babe?” you ask softly as if speaking to a frightened animal.

“I just… I know these few games are very important… I know a lot of people are watching. Nothing serious to worry about.” He searches for the right words to ease your worry. Or maybe he's trying to calm himself, reassuring himself. You silently wonder how many times he has said the same words to himself in the mirror, hoping they would feel less like lies and more like the truth. 

“Conor…” you frown seeing the subtle remnants of past emotions linger in his features - the way his youthful features are made heavy and older with worry, the way his bottom lip is red and coarse probably from him biting it when he thinks too much, the absence of the familiar rosiness from his soft cheeks. Conor looks so unlike himself it makes you want to tell him to come home now so you can protect him from the world. You are brought out of your thoughts however when he speaks again. 

“They wanna potentially sell me you know." He averts his eyes to play with a loose thread sticking out of the pillowcase his cheek is currently laid on. You frown seeing his icey eyes briefly become misty before he blinks the frustration and sadness away. You hate seeing him like this, helpless and deflated. The past few months have not been kind to him, between fans losing hope in him and everyone having an opinion to share between people on social media and pundits. He had bravely held up a front for you but now the whisperings of Chelsea selling him as part of their summer clearout had obviously become the final straw that broke his back. Your heart broke to see him push himself to the limit, often coming home barely being able to keep his eyes open at the dinner table. 

“You have to take it easy though Con,” you say, finally breaking the brief silence that has fallen between the two of you. 

“I have to prove to them that-" his voice is laced with frustration and fatigue as he tries to mask the anger threatening to appear on his face. You know he is trying to keep his head down, work as hard as he can for both club and country. He had always been adamant that actions speak louder than words adopting it as his work ethic, however somehow no matter how hard he would work and push himself it was not enough to keep up with the expectations from the people who held his faith in their hands. And even though he was insistent it didn't bother him too much it was clear to you that was getting to him. But both of you knew Conor would not run his mouth and rather keep it in until he could leave it out on the pitch.    

“No you need to listen to your body,” you say firmly. “We can't have you pick up an injury."

“Babe I'm fine.” His voice becomes shaky once again. 

“Conor you look horrible.” You sit up in frustration. You know you are being harsh to the man on the other side of the screen, but you want, no, need to shake him and make him snap out of it before his inherent need to please people gets him hurt. 

“Please listen to me,” you plead, “ you have to be more careful. I want you home in one piece, not on crutches.”

“I have to prove to the club that-” he starts again, his voice laced with frustration and anger, you know it's not directed at you, but you feel your face turn sour.

“If the club is too blind to see what you bring-” You raise your voice, aware in the back of your mind that the conversation is beginning to move dangerously close to an argument. 

“The club has made a ton of signings. Guys who are younger, fitter, more talented than me and if I don't step up my game and earn my place I'll end up benched forever or worse…” you see his face tense as if holding something back. “sold.”

“Why would getting sold be so bad though?” You say without thinking, too caught up in wanting to eliminate the way his eyes are full of hurt and exasperation.. . 

He looks at you in surprise. Him leaving Chelsea has been lingering in the air for a while now, an unspoken subject that neither of you ever dared breach. Both of you very aware that it has been the reason for Connor to wear himself thin, for the small arguments about seemingly mundane problems. However it is also the one subject you and Conor would not dare touch due to fear of it consuming him completely.  

“Chelsea is my home,” he says after a moment, his PR training kicking in.

“Conor.” you say tiredly.

“Chelsea is my home” he says again. His voice quieter, like he's reassuring himself more than informing you. You know lately he's been having his moments of doubt whether he and the club have become too distant from each other, whether he has outgrown his roots, whether it's time for a new challenge. You cannot help but wonder if with the plethora of changes at the club Conor still feels has a home at Stamford Bridge. 

“Conor,” you say, “I know you love Chelsea, I know it's home, but you know no one would blame you-” you soften your voice speaking slowly, carefully observing any changes in his expression. 

Conor looks at you as if asking “are you kidding me?”

“Okay SOME people would blame you… All I'm saying is - moving to a club that loves you and cherishes you wouldn't be that bad… I just… I hate seeing you like this baby. I'd rather you move than run yourself into the ground trying to prove something they should already know. I just worry about you, you know.” The words fall from your mouth before you have a chance to catch them. You close your eyes and hold your breath bracing for the wrath that may follow now that you have overstepped the unspoken boundary that is Conor and his football career. 

When you don't hear a reaction you open your eyes expecting him to be furious or having hung up on the call. You would deserve it for taunting him like that. But all you are met with is pain in his eyes. 

“Your whole life is here,” he says calmly. He looks soft and tired and defenceless almost like an angel. You feel as if he has laid down his weapons, unwilling to fight or argue, completely at your mercy. The moment feels incredibly intimate, you know Conor has never let his guard down like this in front of you. He is the type to grit his teeth and suffer alone in silence. And yet here he is, offering you himself completely. He's tired of being the strong one, always saying the right thing, looking the right way, not a hair out of place even after playing a 120 minute match in a UCL final.  

“My whole life is wherever you are Conor.” You offer him the words he has yearned to hear for what feels like forever, an olive branch of sorts. 

The man shuffles, about to say something but you cut him off. “I can work from anywhere, wherever you are that's where I want to be, if that means I might have to get up earlier to take a train or have a few business trips here and there just to see you doing whatever you love and glowing, I'll do it.”

For the first time that evening Conor's face lights up with the familiar smile that finally reaches his eyes reigniting a spark the size of a forest fire that has been dormant for months now ,making you feel like all your problems melt away for a moment. Seeing the glow return to Conor's features makes your chest ache with longing to kiss him, to run your fingers through his hair, to feel his body shake as he laughs at your antics. You watch him, counting the freckles on his nose and mapping out each millimetre of his smile, the way the corners of his lips curl upwards.

“I love you,” you say smiling, “so so much.”

“Where is that coming from?” he chuckles, a certain sparkle dancing in his eyes.

“I don't know… I just wanted to say it," you felt a blush creep onto your cheeks. “I miss saying it to you in real life."

“I'll be home soon enough,” he murmurs hiding his face in the pillow most likely trying to hide his own love sick grin and blush. “Just tomorrow's game and…”

“And you'll do amazing,” you smile tilting your head to the side watching him look at you with one eye.. 

“Think Southgate is benching me.” he groans and just like that the forest fire turns into a candle flame in his eyes. 

“Well I'll be hoping for bench cam then." You notice a small smile ghost his lips, “Now do you wanna hear about my extremely boring day that had zero football involvement?”

“PLEASE!” he yelps, “Go into detail as much as you can."

You chuckle at his excitement and begin to tell him about how you had been, what you had eaten for breakfast, lunch and dinner, the dogs you had seen on the street, work and office gossip. Conor's eyes flutter shut about half way through the in-detail analysis of the newest episode of the tv show you were watching to pass the time. You spend a moment admiring how peaceful he looks dozed off, not disturbed by everything going on in his head at the moment and all the worries haunting his waking hours. You wish you could wrap your arms around him, move the strands of hair out of his face, drape a blanket over him so he's not cold, to be able to draw circles on his shoulder as he slept but alas you have to settle for the tiny screen in which he lived, what had felt like a permanent situation as of late. 

The game had been a stalemate since the beginning of the game. Any attempt at scoring by England had been eliminated by the North Macedonian defence and a few mistakes by the England squad. As Conor had predicted, Southgate had opted to bench him and play Mason instead, citing that he was a better fit for today's strategy. Once you saw the lineup and Conor out of the starting XI you felt your stomach drop, knowing he probably blamed himself for not doing enough, reciting all the foul things people on Twitter would toss his way. At the 79th minute the other team's centre back did a dirty move on Jude making him stay on the ground gripping his knee. Your breath hitched as you watched the medics and his teammates crowd around the teen tending to him, you had seen Conor's teammates limp off with serious injuries what felt like countless times now, seeing the same fate hit someone as young as Jude broke your heart. Luckily the boy was on his legs in a few minutes being helped off the pitch by a medic and Mason. You would have to remember to get an update on that from Conor later. The camera on the big screen panned to the dugout where Conor was stood next to Southgate being briefed as he still adjusted his kit. trying to haphazardly stretch his muscles and warm up. 

You felt yourself shift in your seat, almost spilling your drink as you craned your neck to get a better view, earning a chuckle from Sasha who was sat next to you. Your eyes followed Conor like your life depended on it watching him run wherever the ball went. You could feel your heart beat faster and faster by the minute. Every time someone got close to Conor you would hold your breath until you knew he was safe from danger. When extra time rolled around you felt yourself slouch in the seat. They had five minutes to create a good chance that would bring them a win. You watched as the rest of the midfield played tightly passing between each other while Conor ran around them looking for empty spaces to cover everyone else. Finally at the 92nd minute he had the ball at his feet skillfully outrunning the other team, not letting them get the ball. You could see him desperately searching for a teammate to pass to, but everyone was too far or being covered by the other team's players. Conor pulled back his leg and shot for the goal causing you to yelp. Your heart stopped in the minute as you watched the ball fly through the air followed by the entirety of the stadium erupting in cheers. Connor was surrounded by his teammates hugging him and cheering. You felt your friends pat you on your back and tell you congrats as you couldn't keep the bright grin off your face until the whistle blew signalling the end of the game. You watched as Conor ginned at the crowd clapping his hands above his head doing his round with his teammates surrounding him with matching smiles. For the first time in ages you felt like the fans loved him the same way you did, even if their love would pass soon enough, you hoped he would soak it in while it lasted. And by the looks of it he was doing exactly that as Conor looked elated-like he had just won the World Cup with England and with that erased any doubts or worries that could have found home in his mind. He walked around the pitch clapping his hands above his head at the crowd, however his eyes searched for you in the crowd. Once he got sight of you his grin spread even wider. You mouthed a “I'm so proud of you” at him, not sure if he discovered it, but judging by the way he threw his head back in joy he knew exactly what you had tried to communicate. 

[julianalvarez9]

bad liar / mason mount

request: heyy! can i request something like where the reader and mason mount are in a secret relationship and one time mason accidently called a woman by your name while hanging out with his teammates? thank you x

author's note: this is like the oldest request i have rn 😭 sorry that it took this long. hope you like it!! feedback is always appreciated, tysm<3

word count: 1k

you had never talked about keeping it secret in the first place, but it felt good to keep your relationship between you, close to your chest and away from judging stares and evil whispers behind your back. the fear that they could label you as unprofessional due to how you two had met in the first place -being part of the staff at the national team, and mason being a player- sure creeped in the back of your mind from time to time, making you doubt about everything you two had built during the year you had been together. but mason, being the incredible understanding and loving person that he was, always assured you that you two weren't doing anything wrong, and that your job was safe.

still, only your families knew about you two: not even his teammates at chelsea, and certainly not his mates from the national team.

you were certain that no one suspected anything yet, but you also knew that your boyfriend was like a little kid trying to hide what he got you for your birthday: he can't keep his mouth shut, even if his life depended on it, and ended up spilling everything as soon as someone questions about it. but he had been committed, gladly, to your request: when we tell the world, it had to be in your terms. and you had to congratulate him for how well he was holding up, lasting a year with no hints or slip ups.

at least, until tonight.

he spoke, in a joyful tone, maybe a bit taken by the alcohol already. "thanks, y/n- i mean, sasha". he had tried to thank jack's missus, for passing him the snack bowl, when your name spilled from his mouth before he could catch it. in that second, he sobered up instantly and prayed that everyone at the couch was too busy watching the game jack had practically begged to watch, to even heard his lapsus. his prayers went unanswered, he realised, when he saw his teammates' faces, shocked in recognition at hearing your name exit his lips.

"wait, what? did you say y/n?," jack inquired.

"what?" mason tried to act nonchalant, knowing damn well that he never could hide the smile that adorned his lips when he lied. it was even worse that the fact made him remember you, how you always tease him about how he's such a bad liar, which again, made it even harder for him to appear innocent.

"y/n, as in our physio at england camp, y/n?" john reassessed again, providing context for those who hadn't quite understood what was the matter with the name that had exited their teammate' lips.

"you're hearing things" the chelsea player tried to downplay the situation, gulping a big sip of his beer, which he had noticed that he was holding onto the bottle with excessive force, as his fingers were turning white. "i think john heard just right," assured his best friend with a growing smirk on his face. he had picked about it the last time they were at camp, but mason had denied it every time, so he dropped it. until now.

"shut up, declan" the boy grumbled, already annoyed at the topic, but mostly at him, knowing that there was no way that they would drop it if he didn't admit that, yeah, he had accidentally called your name.

"well, she's pretty cute if you ask me" said conor, coming to the living room again after he had gone away to do god knows what. mason's patience was running low, and even more with the flirty tone his teammate at both his club and the national team had used. of course, he didn't know that you were already taken, but it had made his blood boil nonetheless. "if you don't shut your mouth now, gallagher…", mason said, with a threatening tone.

"oi, getting jealous now, aren't we?" stones joked, and he noticed that, in the heat of the moment, he had gotten neck-deep into the entire thing, and couldn't back down now. at least not without accepting defeat, which he was reluctant to do. he knew you wouldn't get mad at him if he told his teammates, but he still felt bad for doing so without talking to you about it first.

jack's eyes, now bright with the spark of mischief in them, pushed the subject further, wanting to hear his friend say what he had been thinking since the topic was first brought up. "is there something that we should know, masey boy? do you have a girl that you didn't told us about?," he continued with the banter, encouraged by the cheers the boys were shouting. along them were some of their girlfriends, like sasha, who slapped her boyfriend to try and stop him from embarrassing mason further.

"absolutely not. we're just colleagues," he was too quick to answer, feeling how his throat was drying alarmingly fast. he took another sip of his beer -that was already getting too hot for his liking-, which elicited a weird frown to grow on his face. "then call her right now and we'll see how she responds," suggested declan, and he immediately choked with his drink when he processed what his friend was asking of him.

"what does make you think that i have her numb-" he was interrupted when his phone, that was placed on the coffee table in front of him lightened up, showing his lockscreen with the notification that had prompted his screen to turn on in the first place.

message by y/n 🤍

thankfully, something had happened in the game which made all the boys focus on the tv screen rather than his friend who had rushed into the coffee table to pick up and hide the electronic device deep on his pockets. but john, who was seated next to him, got to see who had messaged mason and understood perfectly why he had reacted the way he did. he patted him on the back, before getting close to his ear to mutter "i personally don't have my colleague's contact saved with her name and a white heart emoji, but you do you, brother," with a mischievous smile on his face.

safe to say, the next time that the boys had to join the national team for international duty, your interactions with mason were closely watched. the fleeting glances and the lasting soft touches shared by you two only made their assumptions more real for them.

it was only a matter of time.

[hopingandwishingjs5]

Connor Gallagher x Reader.

Blurred Lines - A girls night out just causes a little blurring to the edges of their world.

18+

Some smut. Did he? Didn't he? Jealousy.

It's taken a small village to help me get this here.... so thank you to my villagers, you know who you are. 💙💙

"But why do you need to go and watch some random blokes taking their clothes off? I can do that for you here babe."

She felt his hands easing up her short skirt and gently roving towards her underwear.  This was hard, she knew he wouldn't like it, he hadn't liked the idea when the other girls had booked it months ago and she knew he was hoping she'd back out.  But she wasn't, she wanted to see what all the fuss was about and a day in Central London would be fun with the girls, not to mention the alcohol and entertainment.

His fingers finally reached their 'destination' and she twitched a little at his touch, she saw the smirk flash across his face and it just confirmed her decision for her as she took a small step backwards. 

"I'll be home before you know it Con, just, go on your X Box with the other lads, pretend I'm still here watching TV"

She didn't mean for it to sound like a dig at him and his normal routine, but if that was how he was going to take it she wasn't going to argue. This was a rare 'girl only' night out for her and she had been looking forward to it for ages. Bending down she went to kiss him and saw his shoulders stiffen, he was so pissed off at her right now..... 

"I'll be back before you know it Con, will let you know when I'm in the car back, ok?"

Her lips met his and he once again tried to change her mind by grabbing her arse and bringing her into his lap, deepening the kiss and pushing his tongue deep into her mouth. She moaned and eased her hands into his hair, slightly longer than normal and she was loving it. The sound of her phone alerting her of the Uber outside made her break the kiss, wiping a thumb across his lips to remove her lip gloss.

"I've gotta go Con, the girls are here in the car, but hold that thought for me yeah?" 

She locked eyes with him and her heart sank a little as he huffed out a breath and broke the stare.

"I'll probably be asleep when you get home drunk, messy and late! If I am, don't wake me, I have training tomorrow."

He watched as she slipped from his lap and walked to the door, never turning around, just grabbing her small bag and exiting the house.

"FUCK!" Conor, threw a pillow across the floor and stood up, stomping into the games room and signing onto his X Box reluctantly.

"Hey! Conor, you a stripper widower too?" Mason laughed as he spoke, making the statement for the small group of friends on the game.

"It's not funny Mase, you not servicing your missus right or something so she has to go watch men she doesn't know take their clothes off and grind all over random women? I'm not fucking happy, what if they pick Y/N up to fucking grind against? I swear to God Mase make you suffer first then I'll hunt the bastard down, dirty fucker!"

Conor could feel himself getting more and more wound up and as he stopped speaking he heard the other lads sniggering on the call.

"Con mate, it's only like us going to a strip club, or going on the lash for the night and having all the fit birds playing up to us, calm down, Y/N will be fine but just a note to yourself eh? Maybe spice it up a bit when you're together if you're feeling this threatened."

Conor adjusted his headset and huffed out a breath. 

"We don't need to spice it up thanks mate (he emphasised the word mate), it's spicy enough, just set the game up and look after your own missus and leave me and mine alone."

Conor spent the next few hours immersed in the world of COD occasionally checking his phone hoping Y/N would hate the whole thing and come home early, no such luck!

"Con? Con babe?"

Conor woke to kisses being placed on his lips, two hands in his hair and his dick standing to attention like it was on patrol. His eyes couldn't focus quick enough as he realised he was awake and Y/N was straddled across his hips as he lay on his back, her mouth now tracing down his lips and his neck.

"I reeeeeeeeeally need you, reeeeeally need to ride you"

Her hands were scratching lightly across his body and he was loving the attention but he wanted to try and take part himself.

"Babe," he took hold of her hands, "Y/N let me just, let me move a little first, you're still dressed and ...."

She giggled against his neck.

"I've taken my panties off, feel" 

She grabbed his hand and placed it between her legs, forcing it as close as possible and sighing as it touched her centre.

"Just, yeah, there, just, please use your fingers." She was grinding against his hand and Conor gave up, who was he to argue.

Flipping them over he raised himself above her and dragged her skirt higher to give himself full easy sight and access to her, he had to swallow down the thought that she was dripping wet and he presumed this was the result of the night out entertainment, but he'd worry about that later.  Now he wanted to make the most of her being extremely horny.

He ran his finger through her dampness, hearing her sigh and feeling her buck against him, she was now biting at his neck and he knew, he just knew she would have marked him and he'd get shit tomorrow from the lads.

He felt her begin to shudder, her legs shaking slightly and her hands beginning to grip at his shoulders, 

"I wanna ride you Con, wanna make you feel good, wanna feel everything"

She looked at him and Conor noticed her eyes were glazed, he knew she wouldn't remember a fucking thing about this tomorrow when she woke with the hangover from hell. Rolling them around again he lay back and watched her struggle to grab hold of his dick, almost falling off him as she tried to grab it and then ease herself onto it. 

He sighed, the thrill of having her wake him horny as hell was quickly dwindling.

"Y/N let me help." Sitting her atop his hips he eased his hand between them, stroking himself a couple of times and then easing her down, swearing as she slipped down easily and she groaned out a long swear word as he thrust up into her. 

"Con, you're so fit, I wanna ride you forever, want you to make me raw, make me scream."

She was messy in her attempt, hands on his chest then into his hair, pulling at it and her lips everywhere, he was loving it, but hating it at the same time.... was it the alcohol? was it the strippers? He wasn't sure but when she leant down and slurred the words "I wanna come all over your dick," Conor was lost, gripping her hips he drove into her, loving the way she was chanting his name, the way her head dropped back and she exposed her neck for him to nibble on and lick as sweat started to appear on it.

Again, he felt her tighten around him only this time he was in full control.  

"Come on Y/N, give it to me, you know you want to, come on, now, let it go."

As he finished whispering into her ear she straightened up and moaned loudly, her hands grabbing at her breasts and squeezing them together, her body covered in a sheen of sweat and Conor thought she'd never looked more gorgeous.

He pumped into her a few more times and then felt his own high hit, gripping her hips until he was sure they'd be bruised as he raised her and dropped her onto his dick, swearing up a storm as he did so. He felt her slump down onto him and he eased her onto the bed, slipping out and making his way into the ensuite to grab a cloth to clean them with. 

On returning to the bedroom the sight that met him made him shake his head, she was star fished across the bed, unconscious, actually drooling onto his pillow! Using the cloth he tried to clean her the best he could, ignoring the weak slapping arm as she tried to move him away, slurring something into the pillow about leaving her alone. Shaking his head, he walked back into the ensuite, cleaned himself up and made his way to the spare room. He was a mixture of emotions, glad he'd got laid, hurt that she wouldn't remember how good it was and angry that it had been another man / men that had got her wet in the first place.  Running his hands through his hair he lay down and tried to sleep, if he struggled in training tomorrow Mase was getting an earful.

"Jesus, Last night was wild in ours, Sarah jumped me the minute she got in!"

Conor could hear Mason's voice as he got to the locker room door,

"I couldn't fucking keep her off me, what about you Ben?"

Conor heard Ben laugh and knew, just knew he'd be agreeing, it seemed like all the girls had gone home the same way..... feral!

"Con mate, did Y/N wake you up? Bet you were glad she'd gone then weren't ya?" 

Mason's teasing was doing nothing to alleviate Conor's mixed feelings about the previous night / early morning. He just grinned and started to get changed, glad when the coach came in and ordered them all into the gym.

Arriving home Conor was amazed the blinds were still closed, but as he entered the living room he saw Y/N lying prone on the sofa, a cloth across her eyes, painkillers and bottles of water strewn on the coffee table he knew why, just as he'd predicted. 

The hangover from hell had landed.  He placed his bag down and removed his trainers, he knew he had two ways he could play this..... 

"Con? Is that you babe? Can you bring me a bottle of water from the fridge please?"

Her voice was croaky and she looked like shit. He sighed and walked towards the kitchen, option 2 it was then.

"Here you go Y/N, you feeling rough? Have a good night did ya?"

It killed him to sound so okay with it but he had to suck it up, all the other lads were loving the fact their other halves had arrived home steaming, demanding rough sex and then passing out, but he had always liked it to be more, to mean more. He couldn't help it, he loved her, it was their thing, they'd only ever had each other and he loved that, he loved he was the only one who knew what she looked like when she came, and he was thrilled his was the only dick she'd ever had her mouth around.  Last night though, something about it was so good it kept replaying in his mind, but the fact she was reacting to someone else getting her excited, that was just too much for him. He knew he sounded soft, but he couldn't help it, and he wouldn't apologise for it ever.

Sitting down next to her and gently lifting her legs, placing them across his lap he started to gently rub them and heard her let out a slow breath.

"I think I may be dying Con" she croaked. "Everything hurts, and I do mean everything." 

He smirked as her eyes glanced down to her own groin and then back up to his face and then closed again as if it had taken all her energy to move her eyeballs.

"You were, well, a bit wild last night when you got back. I was, well, you wanted it, well demanded it that way so I had to, didn't I? Sorry if it's uncomfortable"

She moved the cloth from her eyes and tried to sit up, groaning as her head lifted from the cushions.

"Was I horrid? I didn't say anything cruel did I?" Was I just, like, desperate? Ya know, all over you?"

Conor watched the pinkish flush give her face it's only colour and he nodded slowly, raising his hand and lowering his t shirt collar to show her the love bite on his neck which he'd had his arse ripped for today.

She slunk back onto the cushions and dropped her arm across her eyes. 

"Oh my god! How old am I, 13? I'm so sorry Con, I know we don't do that, I'm just.... I have no idea what I did when I got home. I swear once the fresh air hit me I have no recollection." She removed her arm and looked at him, "Thats fucking scary isn't it? I'm such a twat, I shouldn't go out alone" She made to shake her head and as she did the motion made her heave, bending forward and vomiting into a bucket next to the arm of the sofa, the sound and the smell made Conor's stomach churn, he hadn't even noticed the bucket, but now he couldn't keep his eyes off it.  He waited until she'd finished then stood up, taking it into the toilet, emptying, rinsing and cleaning it out before returning it to her smelling and looking fresh. She at least looked sorry so he couldn't be angry with her, after all, it wasn't anything he hadn't done himself and she'd returned the favour of looking after him.

He leaned down and stroked her hair softly.

"Shall I run you a nice bubble bath, make you some cheesy scrambled eggs and a nice cold vimto?"

She looked at him and her eyes filled with tears, " I love you so much Con, that would be lovely."

He wiped a thumb under her eyes to stop the tears from falling and made to kiss her but the smell of her breath made him retrace his movements.

She covered her mouth and blushed "Sorry, I stink, been being sick and also last night's breath, I seriously couldn't stand and brush my teeth.... I'm minging aren't I?" 

As she finished speaking, she burst into tears and wailed. If she hadn't looked so unwell, Conor would have laughed at the dramatics of it all, but he locked it all away in his memory bank for next time she giving out to him calling him a drama llama.

Y/N lay in the bubbles, she’d seriously never felt so bad after alcohol and the lost time from getting into the Uber and waking this morning was worrying her.

Her phone rang, the noise causing her to clench her teeth and curse.

“Hello!”

“Good God what bit your arse? Or should I say, did you enjoy your arse being bitten?”

Sarah's laughter down the phone wasn’t helping Y/N's hangover at all.

“Ugh, I’m fucking dying, I swear, I have no memory of the last part of the night or getting home, it’s bloody scary. What about you?”

Y/N hated the sound of the laughter on the other end of the phone, she knew it was going to lead to something she really didn’t want to hear…

“Oh My God Y/N you were off your head, you kept trying to climb on the stage, trying to grab the legs of the tall blonde, shouting just let me touch you, I have skills, you’d love them!”

"We were howling at you and you were loving the attention. You kept saying you’d never seen anything as sexy in all your life, that Conor was gorgeous but this, was a whole new level for you. We knew it was just the tequila talking, and before you start beating yourself up, you weren’t the only one, Annie was dragged up and loved every minute of it, dunno how she’ll explain all the oil on her clothes to Ben!!”

Y/N remembered Annie and how they'd all encouraged her, but she had no recollection of her own behaviour.  She’d die if she thought Conor would ever find out, their sex life was amazing, he was gorgeous, everything she ever wanted, what the fuck was she saying stuff like that for.

“Are you not rough today?” Y/N felt like she would never feel normal again.

“Rough as toast, but the sex last night when I got home helped sweat most of the alcohol out, my god, it was amazing. Mase has said he’d be up for us going again, lol, dirty fucker…. I honestly was feral…. Mind you, you were desperate to get home yourself, the things you told us you were going to do to Conor, we literally feared for him. We honestly didn’t expect him to make training today, but Mase told me he made it and that he was sporting quite the love bite!!”  Sarah's loud laughter made Y/N cringe.

“Yeah I err…. it’s not really something….. well…. I know I’m aching all over, but to be honest, I have no memory of it, I feel so bad, but Con hasn’t said anything so maybe he’s good with it.”

“I hope you didn’t tell him what you told the guy on the stage last night,” Sarah replies, still giggling.  

Y/N felt her body cover in goosebumps, “Oh shit, what did I say?”

“You were trying to video him on your phone and the security man came over and said no filming the act and you shouted that you needed to film it so Conor could learn how to take his clothes off like Blondie it was turning you on so much. Honestly Y/N you were up for anything!”

Y/N gulped. “You haven't told Mase this have you? I’d die if Con found out, it’s just not…. I don’t need him to…. Fuck!”

Realising her words had created anxiety for her friend Sarah's tone changed, “Honestly Y/N it’s okay, we’re not sharing anything with the lads, they don’t need to know, it was a girls night out, don’t worry. Get rested, clear the hangover, give Conor some loving and just put it into the back of your mind, it’s done, okay?”

Y/N said her goodbyes and hung up the call, groaning as her arm slipped back into the bubbles, glad she had kept the phone on speakerphone instead of holding it to her ear, that would have taken far too much energy. Remembering the last part of the conversation she huffed out a breath, and let herself slide under the water wishing it could wash away the information she’d just been given.

Outside the bathroom door Conor stood with the bath sheet in his hands that he’d had warming in the tumble dryer and was bringing up to wrap around Y/N when he helped her out of the bath, but as he arrived at the door he heard the conversation in mid flow, his heart dropping to his feet at the thought that some random bloke taking his clothes off turned his girlfriend on more than him doing it.  This, exactly this was what he was dreading when she went out last night.  The rational part of his brain knew stripping and dancing was what these guys were trained in, but still, he didn’t want his girlfriend forever comparing his undressing to some bloke she saw on a drunken night out doing it. He gripped the towel to his chest and pushed the bathroom door open,  laying it down on the nearby ledge and nodding towards it, “Thought you’d need this.” He didn’t mention that it had been warmed, because whilst he had been listening to the conversation and then mulling over the information afterwards it had gone cold again.

“Awwww thanks babe, I love you” Y/N looked at him and smiled the best she could whilst her head was imploding and her heart was heavy, she did not deserve this wonderful man.

Conor just swallowed, “I’m errr, I’m going over to Ben's, see you in an hour or so okay?” He watched her nod and close her eyes….. Probably thinking about Blondie stripping his clothes off Conor thought, it made his stomach flip and his head begin to ache.

Conor sat in his car, his phone to his ear, the constant ringing annoying him until eventually it answered and he began the conversation, stuttering at first then easing into it when they talked him down and calmed his nerves.

2 days later

“Lots of men feel like this first time, you’d be amazed.”

Her voice was honey sweet and dripped from her lips and Conor couldn’t get enough of hearing it, even though he knew it was wrong to be enjoying it so much, but hadn’t Y/N enjoyed her time with the strippers.

“I’m not the most expensive, but I’m far away from the cheapest so you’ll get what you pay for I can guarantee and it definitely won’t be a chore with a good looking bloke like you, I feel guilty charging you.”

Her eyes were raking over his face and his hair, she’d already looked him from toe to head when he’d walked in smiling at him like the cat that got the cream.

Conor averted his eyes and looked around the cafe then back at her, “Errrr thanks?”

He watched as she raised a manicured polished long nail to her red lips and looked at him, “I seem to feel I should know you, but I have clue where from, have we done business before?”

Conor shook his head so fast his hair fell from behind his ears and he tucked it back feeling like a virgin again. “No, definitely not done anything with you before, honestly, I’m a first timer, I mean, not a first timer,  but, first time doing this, errr, this kind of thing, not doing it…. I’ve done it… Lots, done it so many times…. I’m…. errr”

She smiled at him and placed a soft hand on top of his,

“It’s so refreshing to see someone so nervous, they’re usually full of bravado and all Johnny Big Bollocks. This is going to be so much fun Colin”

She stroked his hand and then let a small laugh escape her lips as he slid it from under her hand.

“S’pose” He wanted to die…. right now…. 

“You’re late, I thought you’d be home a couple of hours ago”

Y/N looked up from her laptop and smiled at Conor as he came into the lounge.

“You okay? You looked a bit washed out?”

She placed a hand against his cheek then his forehead,

“Want me to run you a shower, help you relax a little?”

Conor just nodded and dropped onto the sofa, he couldn’t speak, he knew she’d read him and know something was wrong, not quite right…. He ran a hand over his face and through his hair, he really couldn’t do this …. he just had to stop it now, before it went too far, before he got sucked in….

“Con, shower's warm, come on babe”

He trudged up to the bathroom and stood stock still in the doorway as he saw her naked, under the water stream, waiting for him.

Lying on the bed she looked at him as she carded her fingers through his wet hair,

“That, was amazing”

She leaned up and over his chest, kissing him and licking at his lips afterwards.

“You always know just what to do”

Conor looked at her and returned the kiss, he loved her so much, he wanted to be everything she ever needed, ever dreamed of, ever fantasised about.

“I love you so much Babe, making you feel good is what I’m here to do, it’s what I love doing, I just…." He paused, clearing his throat.  "Do you think there’s anything I could do, you know, more? Like something we don’t do, haven’t tried?”

He knew he was rambling, he quickly shut his eyes and took a breath then watched as her eyes scanned his face, but her tell was the way she swallowed and licked her lips before answering. 

“Nope, it’s all perfect for me Con, how about you?”

In that moment he knew, he just knew she wasn’t satisfied, maybe she’d faked it, maybe she was focusing on Blondie, maybe she was even thinking about going again but not telling him.  

“Well? Anything you’d like me to do?”

She was now lay full length on him and her lips were grazing his neck, he knew he’d normally be throwing her back onto the bed and starting round 2, but his mind was relaying the conversation from when she was in the bath, then what he’d learned today, he needed to pace himself.

Easing her up from him he stood from the bed and walked towards the bathroom again,

“Think I’ll take a quick shower, feel a bit sticky.”

Y/N watched him disappear and lay back down staring at the ceiling, was he still pissed about the other night? She followed him into the bathroom and sat on the toilet watching him shower. 

“Are you pissed off at me about the other night Con?”

He turned and looked at her and shrugged his shoulders then shook his head.

“Nothing to be pissed off about, is there? I mean, you had a good night out didn’t you? You came home, gave me the best sex we’ve had in ages and passed out on me, what’s to piss me off?” 

He half laughed at the end then turned to wash his hair again realising it was gonna be like baby hair tomorrow after being washed twice within hours.

Y/N did a slight nod of her head and left the bathroom, he was definitely still pissed off, this was something a blow job and sex wasn't going to clear up.

“What do you fancy doing tonight after tea? Go for a walk? Cinema?”

Y/N was busy clearing the breakfast dishes as Conor gathered his gear together. 

“Probably best not to make any firm plans until I get back if that’s okay with you?” He hated lying to her, hated all this secrecy, but it was doing wonders for his confidence and it wasn’t hurting her, she knew nothing of it and Marsha was very discreet.

“You going to be late again? What you doing after training? You seem to be doing loads more training and social media than you’ve ever done”

Y/N stood up from bending down to the dishwasher, dirty dish in her hand, eyebrows raised at her question.

“Yeah, it’s cos of all the new lads, they’re trying to up the stuff on line, you know what they’re like.”

He walked towards her and kissed her cheek, his arm wrapping around her waist and smiling as she turned, locking lips with him and sighing into the kiss as she deepened it.

He moved his head back, breaking the kiss and giving her a smile

“Sorry babe, got to get to Cobham, the boss will have my balls if I’m late.”

Y/N stroked his hair and nodded, “See you later, don’t work too hard.”

She watched him walk out and resumed her task, her mind running a million miles an hour.   Conor just wasn’t himself, he wasn’t acting like him, wasn’t reacting to her like he always had done. She leaned against the worktop, her worst fear played out in her mind and she felt her heart rate increase, she knew Conor wouldn’t do that, but she knew something was off.

“Come on Colin, you can give it to me harder than that! I’m meant to feel like you’re actually wanting to eat me out, not just trying a taster snack at Tescos!”

Marsha was sat on the chair, legs spread, a bored look on her face and Conor was kneeling in front of her, soaked in sweat and blushing from her words.

“I’m sorry I just, this is all, like, doing this with you, it’s just …. different”

Marsha laughed loudly and patted his wet hair.

“Colin, if it wasn’t different you wouldn’t be here, now are we doing this or are you giving up?” She looked at her wrist and tapped the face of her watch “Only 15 minutes left and you wanted to try out something new didn’t you?”

Y/N looked over at Conor, he was flat out, fast asleep again on the sofa, what the fuck? 

Surely they couldn't be training that hard, they'd be knackered before the season started...

1 week later

“Oh my God! Yes Colin, Oh Yes! Just let me … I can’t fucking breathe….”

Conor looked down at Marsha, she was a hot mess, lay on the floor, panting, sweating and her hand gripping onto his hips.

Conor strutted out, today had been a good day.

“I tell you, he’s knackered when he gets home, Poch is working him way too hard, it’s not fair. I know he’s young and gorgeous but where does Poch get off keeping him late almost every night and fucking working him so all he’s fit for when he gets home is a shower, food and sleep?”

Y/N was on the phone to Sarah, she knew she shouldn’t complain about Conor being tired, she’d most likely find Mase was the same, someone needed to have a word with the Coaches over at Cobham.

“Y/N, Mase’s been home normal time.  You know what they’re like, trying to lure in the young girls to follow them on Instagram and everywhere, then the club will be complaining about instahoes, they can’t win.”

Y/N felt better just speaking to someone about it, obviously in the past Mase had been subjected to the same regime and she’d never heard Sarah complaining about the work load, she should keep quiet and  be grateful he was still at a club he enjoyed.

Conor walked into the house and Y/N was sat on the sofa, phone in hand scrolling through pages of something and the TV was playing quietly in the background.

“Babe.”

Conor dropped onto the sofa next to her and immediately slid his hands under her sweatshirt,

“No bra, bonus for me.”

He ran a thumb over her nipple and felt it harden under his touch, Y/N arched her back and moaned at the sensation from his thumb.

“Connnnnnnnnn”

She turned her face and started to kiss him, her hands going straight into his hair, it felt damp, like he’d showered recently, but she couldn’t think any further as he’d lifted her sweatshirt higher and had now latched his lips onto her breast.

“Have missed these so fuckin much.”

His mouth played with the soft skin, his tongue rolling over and over the erect nipple before he sucked it into his mouth again.

Y/N was so tempted to say they’d been there for the last week but she knew not to spoil the moment, she was desperate to feel him, have him on her, in her, all over her, she’d missed him so much…

She mewled as his hand dropped into her pants and his fingers entered her gently, softly rubbing at her, teasing her and bringing the reaction he wanted from her. Immediately her wetness coated his fingers and her thighs squeezing his hand in place.

“Someone's needy.”

He kissed along her neck and up to her ear, his tongue dragging around the shell then he spoke slowly and lowly,

“Need to fuck you, need to fuck you slowly and watch you come unravelled under me.”

Conor felt the whole of Y/N's body lift towards him as his fingers continued their task and his mouth assaulted her ears with filth.

“Gonna let me fuck you babe? Let me make you scream my name? Want to turn you into a bad girl, make you naughty, make you let me do anything to you I want, you up for that babe? Letting me rail you into the bed?”

Y/N was losing her mind, his fingers were bringing her closer and closer to the finish line and she’d never heard him talk so much filth, it was blowing her mind. Her hands grabbed at his hair, pulling his face to hers as she kissed him, all open mouthed and sloppy.

“Do it, anything, yeah, just, yeah, rail me Con”

She moaned as he removed his fingers from her, lifted her from the sofa, and waited until she wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her to the bedroom, his mouth still assaulting her ears and her mouth fixed to his neck, licking and nipping, being careful not to leave any marks…

Y/N lay, coated in sweat, hair stuck to her neck and forehead, panting, mouth dry, eyes squeezed shut.

“Con, please, please, just let me…..”

She felt his mouth on her core again, his tongue again teasing her, lapping at her clit and then sucking it into his mouth, his fingers were dragging in and out of her, she’d already orgasmed three times and she felt like her lower body was on fire from his constant attention.

“Give me one more babe and I’ll leave you alone”

Conor watched as she panted, he’d seriously never edged her or brought her to orgasm so many times together, nor in so many ways as he had tonight, all that was left..

“Turn over babe, come on”

He eased her over, her body almost limp with how he’d been working her,

“Spread your legs babe, further, lift for me.”

He placed his dick to her core and eased himself in, hearing her moan as he entered her fully, she was bound to be sore, but he needed to do this, wanted to finish properly. Letting her get used to him there for a few seconds he then lifted her body so her back rested against his chest and he started thrusting into her, his tongue running along her neck, her shoulder, nipping and licking.

“Want you to come on my dick again babe, just this last time, come on. You’re so good, so wet still, still full of me and all my licking, you enjoy that did ya? Liked me eating you out, bringing you off with my tongue and my fingers, such a dirty girl. Come on, come on babe.”

He was panting between words, sweat running from his head into his eyes, his hair hanging lank with sweat, his arms sliding against her sweaty body.

“Con, Con…… Oh My God….. Oh Jesusssssssssssssssss”

She exploded all over him, her body shuddering with the intensity and he  held her in place as she rode it out and he drove himself to his own finish line, breathing her name as he came, hugging her that impossible centimetre closer, swearing no one, no one could make him feel like she did.

Standing in the shower he washed her hair and then gently soaped her body, letting the water sooth her sore skin.

Lifting the towel from the shelf he wrapped her in it and lifted her up like a baby, carrying her to the bedroom and laying her on the bed, brushing loose hair from her face.

“Take a nap babe, I’m gonna go make some food.”

He bent down and kissed her forehead as her eyes closed. He couldn’t understand how he wasn’t asleep himself but somehow he had more energy, as he passed the mirror on the wall in the hallway he caught sight of himself and smirked, ‘thanks Marsha’.

Y/N opened her eyes……. Who the fuck was Marsha and why did she deserve thanks? Her heart fell and she felt her stomach lurch but she couldn’t move, he thought she was asleep and she needed to keep the pretence up.

“Hi Sarah, is Mase home?”

Y/N felt sick making the call.

“Yep, home and out doing something in the garden, probably practising his golf swing, it won’t be anything useful, why?”

Y/N took a deep breath

“Do you mind if I pop round, just to speak to Mase for a few minutes?”

“Course, will Conor be with you? Do you want to stay for some food?”

Sarah heard a soft sob at the other end of the line, “Y/N you okay babe?”

Y/N gulped a sob down, 

“I just need to speak to Mase”

Mason was sat opposite a distraught Y/N who was now being cuddled by Sarah to try and help ease the sobbing,

“So let me get this straight, for a couple of weeks he’s been coming home late some days, knackered, blaming the media team and training?”

Y/N nodded and watched as Mason flicked a look at Sarah.

“Has he been working with anyone in particular? Doing something in particular?”

Mason was baffled.

Y/N shook her head,

“Just stuff, media, club wanted more content for on line due to all the new guys”

She looked at Mason and felt her fear increase

“He’s lying isn’t he? He’s not at work is he?”

She looked from Mason to Sarah and both just stared back at her.  Mason paused before he spoke.  

“Look Y/N this is Conor we’re talking about, the man doesn’t even look at the Instagram girls when we’re at SGP, he’s solid.”  Sarah locked eyes with him and huffed out, “And you do?”

Mason swallowed and waved his hand “We’re here helping Y/N out, don’t make it about us.”

Sarah opened her eyes wide and mouthed ‘later mister’. Mason nodded then wished he’d kept his mouth shut.

“Well, he’s going somewhere, who’s Marsha?”

Y/N watched Mason for any reaction at all.

“Huh?”

He just shrugged and looked at both Sarah and Y/N.

“Not a clue, who is Marsha?”

Y/N started crying afresh.

“I dunno, but last night he thanked her after we’d had probably the most intense sex we’ve ever had since we’ve been together. He doesn’t know I heard him, but as he walked through the hallway upstairs he said ‘thanks Marsha’ and went downstairs”

Mason cursed under his breath and rubbed his stubble,

“I’m sorry Y/N, I have no idea and the last thing I want to do is start asking the lads because someone will most likely blab about it and then well….”

He shrugged.

“So basically he’s shagging about and came home last night to share all his tricks.”

Y/N was shaking with temper now as she cried,

“I knew eventually this would happen, I knew he’d listen to all the chat in the locker room, he’d hear how such a girl did this and how such a bloke did that, he was bound to get bored of me, bound to want more of the other stuff.”

She completely broke down and leaned into Sarah who looked at Mason over her head and mouthed ‘you’re all dickheads’ to which he mouthed ‘I haven’t fucking done anything’ and Sarah mouthed back ‘yet dickhead’ which caused Mason to stand up, grab his golf club, pat Y/N on the shoulder and storm outside. He’d fucking kill Conor when this got sorted.

“I seriously can’t thank you enough, whatever you’re charging is not enough, you need to double it.”

Conor leaned forward and placed a kiss on Marsha's cheek, smiling as she closed her eyes quickly as he did.

“You are an absolute darling and if you ever find you need help again with, you know, anything, my door is always open, at an agreed price obviously.”

She laughed as she watched him gather up his clothes and place them in his bag, then running his fingers through his hair to make sure it was straight. She wished all her clientele were as handsome and nimble as he was, her job would be an absolute dream.

He turned and gave her that perfect teeth smile,

“Thanks Marsha.”

And he walked out, leaving her a little damp between her legs…..

Y/N sat on the sofa, her back was ramrod straight and her eyes were fixed on the door. She’d been sat like this for the past two hours and as time ticked by her temper was rising to boiling point. 

She may not be the prettiest, the slimmest, the funniest, have the most hair extensions, biggest lips, longest lashes, but what she did have was a kind heart, a good brain and her integrity and no one, not Conor Gallagher, not even the King of England was stripping her of that. If Conor wanted to shag about then so be it, but she wasn’t the type of person to sit at home and take whatever scraps he threw her way, he could just fuck right on off if he thought that was going to happen!

“Hey!”

Conor closed the door behind him and dropped his bag on the floor, kicking off his shoes and walking into the lounge only to stop dead in his tracks at the sight of Y/N sitting like his old school headmistress.

“Babe?”

Y/N felt her insides bubble up and she fixed a hard stare on Conor's face.

“Don’t you fucking babe me, where have you been?”

She watched Conor's adams apple bob in his neck.

“Work.”

His eyes never left her face, she took a shuddering deep breath, he was now lying to her face!

“Liar!”

Conor's eyes widened and he went to take a step forward but Y/N stood up and put a hand out in front silently telling him not to move.

“Don’t you fucking dare take another step forward Gallagher, I’m calling bullshit on everything you’ve told me the last couple of weeks and until you start giving me the truth you can just get your skanky trainers back on, pick up your stinking bag and piss off from our house.”

She could feel herself shaking, knew he’d be able to see it, but she was so proud of herself for not crying.

“Ba….. Y/N, please? What the hell is all this about?” He couldn’t let this happen not after last night,  not after… “Please.”

She shook her head,

“Fuck off Conor, I’m not playing second fiddle to no Instahoe, I’ve booked an appointment at the STD clinic for tomorrow, I need to make sure you’ve not infected me with anything, I at least still have some morals”

“STD…? Ba (she raised her eyebrow) Y/N, please, honestly, there’s no need, I’m clean, you know we get tested all the fucking time, how can you….?”

“You get tested but does she?”

She spat the words out as she folded her arms trying to stop them from shaking.

Conor swallowed again, confused, upset, sweating….

“She? Who the fuck is she?”

He was getting frustrated too and his voice was rising.

“Marshaaaaaaaaaaaaa”

Y/N elongated the name and watched his face blanche.

“Marsha? Ah, I can explain tha…..”

“I bet you fucking can, I tell you what Conor, explain it to someone who wants to listen because I’m bored of your bullshit. I thought after all this time the least you would have done was tell me you were wanting out of the relationship, but oh no, not Conor bloody goody two shoes Gallagher, oh no, he decides he’ll just fuck about and act as though nothing is happening. Twat! I hate you.”

She felt the first tear spill from her eye and as she went to wipe it away another appeared, then another, and she huffed out an angry breath.

“Just piss off Conor, I’ve contacted an agency and I’m viewing some places tomorrow, once I’m out you can move back in, until then can you please go bury yourself under a rock somewhere so I don’t have to see your sickening face any more.”

Conor watched as she walked upstairs stopping halfway to say, 

“Leave your keys on the table, I’ll let Mason know when I’m out so you can come in and collect some stuff until I leave”

Conor was numb, he’d never seen her so angry, so direct, so distraught and he was the one who had caused it. His heart broke…. It was meant to be fun, confidence building, then he was meant to make her feel better…. but he hadn’t, he’d destroyed everything.

“Are you shitting me mate?”

Mason was sat across from Conor nursing an orange juice which he wished was a large vodka.

“If I help you out Sarah will not only castrate me she’ll probably throw me out too. She almost destroyed my golf clubs when I mentioned Instagram girls the other day, I swear, I feared for them and me, so no mate, I can’t help you. Why not ask Chilly, he loves a bit of danger, he lives with Annie for fucks sake!”

“Yeah course mate, when d’ya want me to sort it, Y/N always liked me, she’ll be happy to have me help her out.”

He wiggled his eyebrows as he finished and Conor felt his stomach flip, Ben was so not the person to help out. A woman in distress to Ben is like an open invite to a garden party he just has to RSVP to and ‘hello’ said woman is riding his dick….. 

“Look it’s okay Ben, I’ll get someone else to help out, I’m trying to save my fucking relationship here, not offer my girlfriend up on a plate for you to dick her and dump her”

Conor could feel his temper rising, he just needed a small favour was it really too fucking much to ask?

“Easy boy! I can help without any messing, I’m smooth when I want to be”

Ben smiled and Conors heart dropped, he really had no other option…. God Help Him!

“I’m really sorry for calling you darling but Conor was adamant I bring this specific shirt and for the life of me I can’t find it, or his bloody special long hair shampoo, what the fuck kinda bloke has special hair shampoo… I’m losing my fucking mind here in your bathroom, I’ve never seen so many products.”

Y/N listened to the frustration in Ben's voice, he’d told her Mason had taken Conor golfing and so Ben was sent with a list of items to collect so there was no chance of Conor and Y/N running into each other.

Y/N was out for lunch with friends who were all being sympathetic and understanding which is just what she needed just now, so Ben's call was just about as inconvenient as it could get.

“Look Ben, just leave the list, I’ll get it all together and you can collect it all tomorrow, okay?”

Ben heard the reply and his heart sank, Conor hadn’t told him what to do if she suggested this, only what to say to get her to the house.

“Errrr, what about, I come and pick you up, bring you here, get the stuff together then I drop you back… 30 minutes max and lucky me I’ll get to see that fit blonde friend of yours, yeah, that works for me, is she still single by the way?”

Y/N sighed down the phone,

“She is single, you aren’t, you have Annie in your house Ben, remember?”

Ben half laughed.

“You say potatoes, I say patatas.”

“Benjamin! This! This is why Conor is a lost cause! Just hurry up and get here, do not get out of the car, do not look at any of my friends, do not make contact with any of them via Instagram, do you understand  me?”

Ben nodded then realised she couldn’t see him down the phone so he answered her 

“Understood, and on my way.”

“Just sit there and I’ll go get the bag from upstairs now we have everything and I’ll take you back to your friends, who I have to say, all looked lovely today,”

Ben smiled at Y/N's frown and made his way upstairs, sending the text on his phone and removing the headphones as instructed from his pocket, switching on the music he stepped into the guest room and closed the door.

Y/N sat on a dining chair, the silence was killing her.  She looked at her watch, she really needed to get back to her friends.

All of a sudden Blurred Lines started playing through the music system and she made to stand up but two hands rested on her shoulders and eased her back down.

His mouth was as close to her ear as it could get without actually touching, the song words dripping from his lips and despite her best judgement she felt her thighs clench and her pants become damp, her eyes closing at the sensation of his breath on her. 

His hands were slowly massaging her shoulders and easing their way down to her breasts finally resting just above her low cut top, her skin tingling under is touch and her breathing becoming more rapid.

If you can't hear, what I'm tryna say

If you can't read, from the same page

Maybe I'm going deaf

Maybe I'm going blind

Maybe I'm out of my mind

OK, now he was close

Tried to domesticate you

But you're an animal 

Baby, it's in your nature

Just let me liberate you

You don't need no papers

That man is not your mate

And that's why I'm gon' take you

She saw his leg swing around from the back, straight in front of her and between her own legs, and in one movement he was stood there, all white button down shirt and the tightest denims she’d ever seen him in, her eyes travelled up and down him twice before she reached his face, his eyes were dark and they were fixed on her face.

He gyrated his hips towards her, his hands back on her shoulder but stroking up and down her chest, teasing her with the promise he was going to touch her breast, but he didn’t.

She watched as he bent his legs at the knees, bringing his crotch so close to her body she was sure it touched her, but he moved it back and repeated the move, ghosting her body with his groin, silently asking her to meet him half way with her own, she ran a tongue along her lips, suddenly realising how dry they were, or was she salivating looking at him moving like liquid sex in front of her. He continued singing the song, his mouth close to hers as he said the words. Telling her he knew her, knew what he was doing, knew this would be driving her crazy with want...

Good girl!

I know you want it

I know you want it

I know you want it

You're a good girl!

Can't let it get past me

Me fall from plastic

Talk about getting blasted

He spread her legs with his hands, running them up to her thighs and back down again, his eyes boring into hers as he did.  She gasped as he ducked his head, making a wave motion with his body as he face dived into her groin then back out, his hands resting on the side of the chair as he repeated the action, his legs spread out at the back of him, resting on his toes and his thighs straining against the denims.

Y/N bit her lip, she was sure any minute now she was going to come and he’d smell it, she was shameless.

I hate these blurred lines!

I know you want it

I know you want it

I know you want it

But you're a good girl!

The way you grab me

Must wanna get nasty

Go ahead, get at me

He dropped to the floor and writhed with his back on the floor and his hips rising and falling as he sang the words, his hands rubbing up and down his thighs and his eyes closing slowly as he breathed the words out.

Fuck she wanted him, she wanted to slip from the chair and just take his dick into her mouth she was so turned on, but as she thought about it he knelt up quickly in one move and placed his hands on her thighs, keeping her legs apart an d slowly rising up on his legs until he had moved his body in one wave up towards her face and his groin sat just below her chin. Y/N wanted to poke her tongue out and just lick, just a small taste, just something to ease the frustration she was feeling now.

His hands came up to his shirt and he slowly ran his fingers in and out of the buttons, his eyes never leaving her face, his mouth still breathing the song out.

What do they make dreams for

When you got them jeans on

What do we need steam for

You the hottest b**** in this place!

I feel so lucky

You wanna hug me

What rhymes with hug me?

Hey!

He lifted her hands to his shirt and ran them down, watching as she closed her eyes and her tongue again licked at her lips, he wanted to kiss her, devour her, lay her down and just fuck her….. but not yet.

He dragged her hands slowly, so slowly down the cotton shirt, letting her feel his toned body underneath, letting her imagine the sweat she could feel on the fabric.

As she sighed at the feel of his body he upped the anti -

Standing bolt upright he thrust his hips forward with his hands over hers he eased them from his shirt onto his denim clad hips, down the side of his hips, along his thighs, then briefly, ghosted them over his groin so she could get a very short very slight feel of his erection being held captive within the tight denim.

OK, now he was close

Tried to domesticate you

But you're an animal

Baby, it's in your nature

Just let me liberate you

You don't need no papers

That man is not your mate

And that's why I'm gon' take you

Good girl!

I know you want it

I know you want it

I know you want it

As she watched her hands being led along his lower body like an artist with a paintbrush, he whipped around and her hands were suddenly caressing his firm buttocks, oh god, she wanted to sink her teeth onto them, wanted to leave a mark and then lick over it, stroking it whilst he thrust into her.

He bent forward, keeping his legs straight and then straightened himself up, moving his hands up his legs and letting them rest on his waist, spinning back around and letting her see where his fingers sat, how they were teasing the button through on his denims, how they eased the further buttons open, parting the end of the white shirt so she could clearly see within his pants,  revealing no underwear, just a light covering of hair that she knew led to the holy grail...

You're a good girl!

Can't let it get past me

Me fall from plastic

Talk about getting blasted

I hate these blurred lines!

I know you want it

I know you want it

I know you want it

Her eyes widened as she watched his fingers slowly popping one button at a time, then they stopped and they came to her face, slowly easing her mouth closed she wasn’t aware was gaping, and he lowered his head and ghosted the softest of kisses against her lips and she melted….

And she came…..

A long low moan leaving her mouth and a shudder running through her body as she felt the fluid run from her centre…

And he hadn’t finished yet!

His hands travelled to his shirt and he started at the top, opening first one button, then two, then as if he lost patience he just pulled and the buttons popped off or ripped open, Y/N gasped as his body was at last there in all its toned glory for her to see, she wanted to run her fingers over his ribs, down to his V line and follow the trail, she wanted him so badly.

Two hands dragged his shirt from his denims, letting it hang from his shoulders to the side of his sweat coated body.

A taste was all she wanted, she wanted to lick along the line of sweat she was following from his breast to his hip, she leaned forward, tongue starting to peep from between her lips, but her movement caused him to step back, wagging a finger at her as he continued with the song, which she now hated, how many fucking verses did this thing have!?

But you're a good girl!

The way you grab me

Must wanna get nasty

Go ahead, get at me

Shake your rump

Get down

Get up

Do it like it hurt, like it hurt

What, you don't like work?

Hey!

Baby, can you breathe?

I got this from Jamaica

It always works for me

Dakota to Decatur

Bending down he picked something up and she heard a low pop, allowing her eyes to deviate from his body she looked at his hands and her mouth made an O as he rubbed his hands together and then started to smear baby oil over his torso, leaning his head back as if standing under a shower, biting at his lip as his own fingers ran across his nipples and down towards his waist then back up easing his shirt from his shoulders and letting it pool on the floor, her eyes followed it and wished she were it and he could fall on top of her.

His eyes flashed open as Y/N whined at his actions, her hands splayed out on her thighs which were rubbing together trying to give the friction she was desperate for after having come once already.  He stopped and lifted her hands, placing them on his skin, letting her rub along his body, the oil oozing through her fingers.  Turning slowly he let her rub the little oil from her hands onto his back, then turning back again he bent his body, placing his hands either side of her onto the chair and lowering his face towards her groin, smelling her personal scent at the same time as she continued to massage along his shoulders.

No more pretending

Cause now your winning

Here's our beginning

I always wanted a

Good girl!

I know you want it

I know you want it

I know you want it

Stepping back he shifted his stance, legs closer together, hands atop the waistband of the denims, the last few buttons were flicked through quickly and Y/N bit her lip, she may combust by the time these denims were removed, she knew what lay within and God she wanted it so badly.

You're a good girl!

Can't let it get past me

Me fall from plastic

Talk about getting blasted

I hate these blurred lines!

I know you want it

I know you want it

I know you want it

Slowly, so slowly, he eased the denim down, the oil on his hands leaving a trail along his thighs, his knees, his calves, she followed every centimetre of the journey, watching his fingers pry the fabric along his limbs, watch the material bunch and fold as it exposed his body, his legs that ran miles every day, that allowed her to ride him, took her weight when she got tired on top, allowed her to sit on him to enjoy a cuddle.  Those legs were priceless and they felt so good under her body, behind her or either side of her when they shagged.

Then he was stepping out of his jeans, lifting them and dropping them to the side, standing up, naked, hard bodied, hard erection, and hers.

His eyes met hers and he licked his lips, running a hand along his shaft and emitting a low moan letting his eyes close lazily.

But you're a good girl!

The way you grab me

Must wanna get nasty

Go ahead, get at me

Everybody get up

Everybody get up

Hey, hey, hey

Hey, hey, hey

Hey, hey, hey

The words had stopped coming from his mouth and the last verse was sung from the speakers and she stood up and covered his hand with hers, the oil making the journey up and down his erection easy and he sighed as she leaned forward and kissed him. His hand went into her hair, then down to her dress, lifting it over her head and making short work of removing all underwear.

Dropping to the floor he eased himself between her legs, teasing her with the tip of his dick and licking along her lips.

“Don’t tease”

She tried to thrust herself up to slide him inside her, but he shifted his hips back and licked along her jaw,

“You love the tease, that’s what's got you wet, that’s what you wanted, isn't it?”

He kissed up to her ear and breathed across it.

“I heard your conversation, you’re not the only one who can overhear things. Marsha taught me how to strip, how to tease, how to please you without touching. She’s 60 if she’s a day but she’s good at her job.”

He was speaking so quietly against her ear, she was struggling to hear him over her own panting and his breathy words.

“I’m sorry”

She almost got a sentence out but his finger rested against her lips,

“Stop, let me love you.”

He lowered himself onto her and into her, his hands taking her and holding them above her head as he slowly thrust in and out of her, feeling her building to her peak as he nibbled along her neck, down to her breasts and all the while telling her he loved her, only her, only ever her and then she fell, a long deep moan slipping from her as she tightened around him bring him along with her, how could she ever doubt him?

They lay side by side, clothes strewn around them and rig full of oil from Conor's body, oblivious to time or changing temperature, but then

“Can I come down yet? I’m bloody starving and I need to get home”

Conor looked over at Y/N and they both laughed, grabbing something to cover certain body parts they watched as Ben held his hand against his eyes at an angle so he couldn’t see them and left the house.

Y/N ran a finger down Conor's torso,

“You know, you could always strip for a job if your football doesn’t work out but they do 2 shows a day at weekend you know, and today is Sunday so come on, get dressed, time for the main event”

Conor laughed and picked her up, carrying her towards the stairs

“I’ll give you a main event missy and I don’t need to be stripping to do it...”

[conorpmaynard]

Is He Here? // Conor Maynard

Word Count- 2402

Request-

Hey there! Hope you're having a great day! Could I place a request for a Couple nor imagine please? The plot could maybe be where he comes back from tour a week early and the reader doesn't know about and he asks the rest of the buttercreams to help him surprise you. If not then it's no problem. Thanks x

~~

Four months, 15 days, and 10 hours. You had been counting. Conor left exactly Four months, 15 days, and 10 hours ago. And you missed him more and more with every passing second. He had gone on the North American leg of his worldwide tour. His second album was #1 on all the charts and most of his concerts were sold out. You couldn’t be happier for him; but the emptiness in your heart was undeniable.

It’s not that Conor ignored you. No, it was rather the opposite. He’d make sure to text you non-stop throughout the day and sometimes, if you were lucky, you’d get a random snap from the tour bus or dressing room. Every Sunday night, he’d Skype you and you two would talk until you fell asleep.

Yesterday he was in New York, tonight he’d be playing in Ohio, and tomorrow he’d be in Indiana. You kept up with his shows, watching the Instagram and twitter posts and the overflowing snaps stories; but mainly Jack’s.

The younger Maynard had decided to help George with the DJ’ing part of Conor’s tour. So most of your nights were filled with you sitting on your couch re-watching Jacks story over and over again just to get a glimpse of your boyfriend.

Tonight would’ve been like every other one, but you chose to dive into a new TV show. You needed something to take your mind off of Conor, just for a little bit. As you clicked onto the next episode of Shameless, you’re phone buzzed.

From Oli:

Don’t make plans on Friday, Caspar and I want to take you out to lunch.

You giggled as you typed a response.

From Y/n:

I have a boyfriend.

A few minutes later he replied.

From Oli:

Haha very funny. But seriously, we miss you.

This made you smile. You hadn’t seen either of them since Joe’s house party a few weeks back.

From Y/n:

We?

From Oli:

Caspar and I

From Y/n:

Miss you guys too :) pick me up at noon?

The rest of the night was spent curled up in your half empty bed, trying to focus on the lives of the Gallagher’s rather than your own.

~~

Four months, 16 days, and 4 hours.

His American leg was supposed to be six months, then he’d come back to London for two weeks. Then he’d be heading on to the South American leg of his tour for another 5-6 months.

It was less than two months until you would see him again, but it felt like a lifetime. You just had to wait a little bit longer.

You were currently cleaning the flat; not that it needed it though. Then your phone rang.

“Hey.” You said as you organized the movies on the shelf.

“Hey, Y/n.” Joe’s voice rang through the phone.

“What’s up Joe?” you were only half focused on the conversation.

“I was just wondering if you were busy on Friday,” he said.

“Actually yeah, I am.” you said, but then realized how rude that sounded.

“Oh...” you could tell he was feeling awkward.

“I am so sorry! That sounded so rude,” you laughed to try and lighten the mood. “But I’m going out to lunch with Oli and Caspar. You’re more than welcome to join us.”

“Oh no, that’s okay.”

“Joe,” you said sternly.

“Yeah?”

“You’re going to lunch with us. Just come over to the flat at 11:30. Oli will pick us up at noon.”

“No, Y/n. I don’t want to intrude.”

“Joe, you’re part of the group. It’s not intruding.”

“Fine,” he sighed. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Great!” you cheered and then ended the call.

~~

Four months, 17 days 2 hours.

You woke up rather late on Friday. It was a complete accident though. You had stayed up on Thursday watching Conor’s old videos. It was very emotional and you just couldn’t fall asleep. So then you headed over to his Instagram and just scrolled, reminiscing all the old moments. Before you knew it, it was 3 o’clock in the morning.

So as you slowly made your way to the kitchen, you were in no rush to get ready.

Then there was a knock at that door. You stared at it for a solid 30 seconds before reluctantly dragging yourself to the door.

“Morning love!” Mikey smiled brightly at you.

“Mikey, what the bloody hell are doing at my flat at 10 in the morning?” you let him in nonetheless.

“Am I not allowed to hang out with my favorite person?” he laughed, grabbing a bowl from the cabinet.

“I guess you’re right.” You laughed, following his suit. “But I have plans today.”

Panic flashed across his face and he started stuttering, “I- what- you- I mean… you have plans? What plans? With who?”

You laughed, “Calm down mom.”

“I’m not your mom.”

“I could’ve sworn you were,” you said in a serious tone, but your face showed you were being sarcastic.

“But seriously, what are your plans?”

You grabbed the milk from the fridge, “Going out to lunch with Oli, Caspar and Joe.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah, do you want to come?” you handed him his preferred cereal and waited for a reply.

“No, I um… I already had plans too,” he played with the spoon in his hand.

“Then why’d you come over?” you gave him a small smile.

“I uh, I wanted to see you duhh.”

“Mikey, you can come with us. They won’t mind.”

“Okay,” he flashed his classic smile which made you smile.

You two finished your breakfast and Mikey happily waited in the living room as you got ready. While you continued to do your hair, you heard a knock at the door.

“Hey, Mikey? Could you get the door?” you yelled from the bathroom.

“Sure,” he replied and a few seconds later another pair of feet were padding around your living room.

“I’ll be done in five minutes, I promise!”

“Don’t rush love, I’m early.” Joe called from the living room.

~~

“Hey,” you said opening the doors. “I invited Joe and Mikey as well. Hope you don’t mind.”

Oli gave you a hug, “Of course not.”

“The more the merrier, right?” Caspar smiled, pulling you in for a hug.

Oli and Caspar arrived at your flat around 11:50 and since none of your cars were big enough to fit all 5 of you, you had to wait for an Uber.

You five finally made it to Central London by 12:30 and had lunch at a small little sandwich place. Lunch went by smoothly. Caspar, Oli and Joe vlogging part of it and all four of you helping Mikey talk to a girl on Tinder.

“Would you mind if we stopped by a few shops before we head back?” you ask the boys as you leave.

“I don’t see why not,” Oli looked at the other boys for assurance.

“As long as we stop by TopShop,” Joe said.

“Yay!” you squealed, wrapping your arms around Mikey and Caspar’s neck.

~~

The boys hadn’t complained once since you started shopping, which was very unusual.

“So why aren’t you begging me to go home yet?” you asked as you walked to another shop.

“Huh?” Mikey asked.

“What do you mean?” Oli questioned.

“You guys hate shopping. So why are you guys not complaining?”

“We don’t mind it,” Joe smiled.

“Bullshit,” you stopped walking. “What’s going on? Why are you guys being so weird?”

“We’re not being weird,” Caspar laughed. “We just want you to have a good day.”

“That’s all, love.” Mikey added.

“But why?”

“Because we know you miss him,” Oli said simply.

“Oh,” you looked at the ground. “Thanks.”

“Of course, love.” Joe smiled.

“Ready to go home?” you headed towards a bench.

“Uh,” Oli said, grabbing his phone.

“What’s wrong?” you furrowed your eyebrows.

“Just gotta… call the Uber!” he said and rushed off.

“Since when do you call Uber’s?”

“It’s Oli, he’ll realize soon enough.” Caspar laughed causing the three of you to join in.

~~

After another 30 minutes, the Uber finally arrived. The ride was very awkward; you used your phone as an escape from the silence filled car. Meanwhile, all the boys were exchanging worried looks as the car arrived closer to its destination.

You finally dragged your eyes away from the illuminating screen. But you weren’t where you were supposed to be. The Uber stopped.

“Why are we at Jack’s?” you glared at the boys.

“I forgot something here a few days ago,” Joe gave you a sheepish smile.

“Okay,” you said, unlocking your phone again.

“Hey Casp, wanna help me look for it?” Joe asked as he opened the door. The blonde nodded and followed the older man into the building.

“Where the hell are they??” you whined. It had been a solid five minutes.

“Let me go check,” Mikey slipped out of the Uber and ran into the building Joe and Caspar had walked into a few minutes earlier.

You gave Oli a look and he just awkwardly looked out the window.

“I’m sorry, but I really need to go get some other people.” The Uber driver gives you an apologetic look through the rearview mirror.

You sighed and grabbed your bags, “It’s okay, and have a great day!”

“Sorry,” Oli says, scratching his neck as you two stood out in the cold.

“Might as well go help the others look,” you walked into the building.

Oli followed you and pulled out his vlogging camera. He began speaking to the camera, making sure not to bother you. When the elevator doors opened, he switched the camera onto you.

“What are you doing?” you looked past the camera and continue towards Jack’s door.

“Just vlogging,” he shrugged.

You turned back, “Mikey? Why aren’t you in there?”

“Uh…” he stammered, holding a camera as well. “Just go in.”

You gave both boys a weird look but opened the door nonetheless.

“Joe? Caspar? What are looking for?” you ask as you walk in, keeping your eyes on Oli.

“Oh uh, hi.” Josh said. “You weren’t supposed to be here yet.”

“Josh? What are you doing here?!?!” you questioned.

“What? Who’s here?” Joe appeared from the hallway, Caspar right behind. “What are you doing up here?”

“Waiting for you! The Uber left. What’s going on here?”

“Nothing,” they all say in unison.

“Tell me what’s going on.” You demanded. “Now.”

“Hey Joe, is Y/n still in the Uber?” a familiar voice says, it’s respective body emerging from the hallway.

“Jack?” you whisper.

“Uh, hi?” he says.

“You’re supposed to be on tour…” you continued to whisper, more to yourself than to him.

“About that…” he trailed off.

Tears began to well in your eyes, “Is he here?”

No one answered.

You looked at each boy, all of them looking at each other for help.

“Is he here?” you repeated, voice weak.

Jack nodded, and stepped out of the way of the hallway. You sprinted from where you previously were to the door of Jack’s room. Your hand slowly went to the doorknob, but you quickly remove it. You were anxious.

It had been exactly four months, 17 days, 8 hours, 48 minutes, and 36 seconds since you had last seen him in person.

39 seconds.

43 seconds.

You just stood there. You were scared. What if he had changed? What if you had changed? What if you two weren’t meant for each other anymore?

Who cares? You love him.

You knew you were right. So you grabbed the handle and turned it, slowly opening the door.

He was looking in the mirror, checking his hair and outfit.

He had changed. He was buffer. His biceps were a lot more defined than when he left. He was also tanner. His completion looking extra good in his grey t shirt.

He hadn’t noticed you yet. He grabbed the flowers on the bed and turned to face you; a huge smile spreading across his face when he saw you.

“Ello, love.” He chuckled.

“What are you doing here?” you said quietly.

“I got a week off, and I had to see you.” He smiled.

You stood there for a few more seconds until you lunged yourself into his arms. He instantly dropped the roses and pulled you closer to him.

“I missed you so much baby,” he breathed into your neck. “So. Fucking. Much.”

“I missed you too,” you hugged him tighter, which he returned.

You two finally let go, but Conor kept his arms wrapped around your waist; and yours around his neck.

“You’re only here for a week?” you pouted.

“Yeah, but I had a question,” he started.

“Well ask away.”

“Come with me.”

“Where?”

“On tour.”

You stepped back, “Are you serious? Because I swear to God if this is a prank, I’m going to kill you,” you turned around, looking for cameras.

He chuckled and laced your hands with his, “It’s not a prank, I promise.”

“Yes, of course I’ll go on tour with you,” you laughed, hugging him again.

“I have been waiting four months to hold you again,” he smiled, pulling you closer.

“And I’ve waited four months to kiss you again,” you giggled.

“Is that right?” he asked sarcastically, causing you to giggle again.

“Yes, so are you gonna make my wish come true?”

“Well, since mine did. I guess, I could help yours a little,” he exaggerated. He brought his lips to your neck and then to you jaw and then your cheek.

“There you go, wish come true.” He said, pulling away.

“Asshole,” you laughed.

“Did you expect something else?” he asked seriously, but his toothy smile showed you otherwise.

“A little,” you shrugged. “But you’re a bad kisser anyways.”

“Don’t lie,” he smirked. “You know my kisses are the best.”

“Prove it,” you smirked back.

Conor cupped your face in his hands, leaning closer to you.

“God, you are so beautiful,” he whispered, putting his forehead against yours. “I love you, Y/n.”

“I love you too,” you whispered back.

He captured your lips in a kiss; it was all over the place. You two went from a heavy make-out session to little pecks all over each other’s bodies and then finally to what you guys have lacked the most in the past 4 months. And Conor definitely made sure to let you know how much he missed you that night.

[neverinadream]

conor gallagher masterlist

oneshot (sfw):

● her daughter is fine (coming soon)

oneshot (nsfw):

● i met a boy, he broke my heart

-> content warnings: angst, pre-established relationship, boyfriend!conor, dom!conor x sub!reader, dirty talk, pet names (baby, princess...), praise kink, degradation kink, body appreciation, spitting, nipple play, choking, eye contact, hair pulling, teasing, mentions of ownership, fingering, oral (female receiving)

multipart fics:

social media au:

[swimmingismywholelife]

Twelve Days of Ficmas

Welcome to the 12 Days of Ficmas! I'll be posting a new fic for a new footballer every other day until Christmas. I hope you enjoy!

~~~

1. Minecraft Christmas (Gio Reyna x Reader)

When you are unable to visit Gio for Christmas, you decide to spend it together in an unconventional way.

2. Noel (No Faith) (John Stones x Reader)

You wanted more from John but he couldn't care less. So why then was he at your door on Christmas Eve?

3. Miracles in December (Gavi x Reader)

You haven't seen your best friend since his injury. And only a Christmas Miracle will bring him back to you

4. All I Want (For Christmas) (Conor Gallagher x Reader)

The months of arguing finally comes to a head on what was supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year.

5. Goodbye Christmas (Kai Havertz x Reader)

While everyone else is celebrating the holidays, you can't help but wonder if things could've ended differently if you had just taken a chance.

6. Joy (João Felix x Reader)

Summary: João decides to take you around the city of your dreams during the most wonderful time of the year.

7. A Nonsense Christmas (??? x Reader)

8.

9.

10.

11.

12.