#no. I did not use it one the person who thought a fucking train was the best place to be having a speaker phone CHAT

[osachiyo]

" LEMME HIT YOU WITH THAT DUMB DICK ! "

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — dazai, chuuya, jouno (+ tecchou), oda, sigma x fem!reader

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 & 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — [n]sfw content, somnophilia, these are random scenarios ok don't come at me, degradation, humiliation, doggystyle, rough, getting caught, pussy slapping, s.ex at work, oral (m & f receiving), fingering, piv, unprotected s.ex (be careful babes), praise, creampie + etc • this was originally supposed to be their fav places to fuck but i had to scrap that bc i lost motivation :') anyway, happy reading and i hope you enjoy !! not proofread soz babes

ps. reblog to show your favorite writers support, they're greatly appreciated ! <3

⁰¹ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 — fucking you in a storage room of the agency

This man is a sex fiend, so of course he would love to fuck you literally anywhere anytime. Though he can't lie, being balls deep in your juicy little cunt at work — risking both of your dignities and possibly your jobs has him harder than a fucking rock.

"Osamu— what if we g-get caugh— mmh-!" you let out a muffled moan as dazai delivered a particularly harsh thrust into your cunt, effectively shutting you up. "Relaaaax, sweet thing — almost no one c-comes here — fuck, you're so damn tight," Dazai panted into your ear, hot breath making a chill run down your spine — back arching even further against his chest.

"God, you're so good f'me — so warm 'n right, fuck!" each word was rushed, dripping with lust — the desperation in his voice made you wanna look at his pretty face, pussy clenching just from imagining how good he'd look with his hair disheveled — his usual doe eyes narrowed and a deep blush covering his skin, sweat dripping down his forehead and making his hair stick to his forehead —

Your train of thought got cut off abruptly when Dazai slapped his hand over your mouth, before his hushed voice reached your ears, "shh, stay still f'me, sweetheart."

You were about to question it when you heard the president's voice from just behind the door. The door of the room you were currently getting your back blown out in.

"Yes, I keep hearing strange noises from this one room in particular," you heard fukuzawa's muffled voice — the thought of your boss catching you in the act made your pussy flutter around Dazai’s length, making the brunette grunt in response.

"Are you trying to get us caught, darl'?" Dazai hissed into your ear — oops, you unintentionally clenched down again upon hearing the keys jingle from the other side of the door. Luckily Dazai was ready for it this time, and managed to bite down on your shoulder before he could get a sound out.

"W-what do we do, 'samu? He’s gonna come in!" you whisper-yelled, panic settling in your bones when you saw the doorknob rattle — but before he could unlock the door fully, you heard the high pitched voice of another worker, "president! an important client has come to personally see you."

"Hm, alright. looks like i'll have to tell someone else to take a look in this room later. Let’s go,"

You let out a breath of relief once the footsteps faded away, leaving you both in complete silence until dazai decided to speak up —

"You clenched reaaal hard when he was about to open the door — don't tell me you actually wanted us to get caught, did you, naughty girl?"

⁰² 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 — having you suck him off in his office

Chuuya's job as an executive of the mafia is stressful, to say the least. Not to mention some of the idiotic workers not doing their job right never fails to make his blood pressure go especially high — his anger issues doesn't help his case at all. But what does help is his sweet sweet girlfriend giving him some... 'under the table service' at work.

Chuuya's fist slammed against the hardwood desk, a loud 'thwack!' echoing in the room,

"What the fuck were you thinking?!" he sneered at the poor man in front of him — who couldn't help but flinch at seeing his boss so angry at him failing to complete a simple report.

Truth be told, Chuuya wasn’t really that mad at the worker, for the report at least — he was just.. super on edge from you deep-throating his cock under the goddamn table. He struggled to think properly, and the poor worker interrupting his private moment with you really ticked him off. Can you really blame him though?

How could he think straight with your skilled tongue swirling around his glossy tip so sinfully — fucking tease. Oh and the way you peered up at him through lowered lashes, your eyes glazed with a dreamy haze.

It all made his head spin like crazy.

“-ir, I can re-do it if you would like me to..” Chuuya’s train of thought unfortunate got cut off short, blue eyes snapping back to the man before him — right, the report.

“A-ahem — alright. Have it finished by 6 pm.”

Chuuya hated the way his voice cracked, fingernails digging into the palms of his hands as he tried not to moan out loud when you fully took him nose deep in that right, sweet little throat— shamelessly rutting your hips into his crazy expensive slacks, rubbing your juices all over the smooth, polished material.

You felt Chuuya’s fingers entangle themselves in your hair immediately after hearing the ‘click’ of the door shutting — the guy must’ve finally left.

You couldn’t help but gasp as you were pulled up from the cold, hard floor — and being shoved onto the desk instead.

You felt your pussy throb in your lacy panties as Chuuya spread your legs open — two fingers pressing and prodding at your cunt before sliding the flimsy material to the side,

“Now, let’s get into the real fun, shall we darl’?”

⁰³ 𝐉𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐎 — teaching tecchou how to eat you out properly

Jouno was a good friend. Even though he might've had a tendency to be a little harsh and.. sadistic at times, he wasn't a bad person. I mean, he had to be atleast a decent person for teaching his inexperienced co-worker how to eat pussy — specifically, his own girlfriend's.

"No, not like that you fucking idiot —" Jouno grumbled, pulling Tecchou's head off of your cunt as he blinked in confusion like a lost puppy, sticky strings of your arousal still attached to his lips. "What do you mean? She's clearly enjoying it.."

"I mean that you can do better. You do want to make her feel fuckin' amazing, don't you?" Jouno raised a questioning brow. "Well, of cour—" "Then start acting like it."

A gasp left your honeyed lips when Tecchou's face was pushed back against your cunt — hot tongue working with even more fervor as he ate you out like he had been starving for days.

"Oh fuck — feels so g-good, sai," you whimpered out — head thrown back and your tongue threatening to loll out from the sheer pleasure the man between your legs was giving you. "Yeah, baby? Feels good when Tecchou eats that sweet cunt out reaaaaal good, huh?" Jouno's tone was condescending — his lips curled up into a cocky smirk.

“Y’smell so sweet - taste so sweet -” Tecchou's voice was low and dripping with need — your pussy throbbed from just how desperate he sounded.

"A-ah shit - can feel you throbbin' on my tongue, princess —" he groaned, tongue flattening against your clit as he shook his head side to side.

You babbled out Jouno’s name like a prayer — all while the man between your legs worshipped your cunt like it was his god, pink tongue repeatedly flicking your clit, making you see stars as your hole stretched around two of his slim fingers.

“Please — wanna c-cum s’ba- mmh!- ,” you let out a strangled noise as a harsh slap landed on your soaked pussy, clit throbbing as you threw your head back once more. “Fuckin’ slut, so damn eager to cum on another man’s tongue in front of your boyfriend, hmm?”

“Don’t — ah fuck, squeezin’ so tight ‘round my fingers, baby - don’t be so mean, Jouno,” Tecchou threw a side glare to the man next to him, which only earned a shrug from said man, “quit talking and enjoy the meal, dumbass. She’s close.”

And enjoy the meal he did — lapping up every single drop of your sweet juices so enthusiastically you’d think that he hadn’t eaten in days.

⁰⁴ 𝐎𝐃𝐀 — morning sex with him

Mornings with your husband, Oda Sakunosuke, were sweet, blissful and filled with love. Sometimes he'd surprise you with breakfast in bed, it's the least he can do considering everything that you do for him, is what he says. But sometimes — you crave him instead of the delicious food.

“My pretty girl,” Oda smiled sleepily, moving some of your hair out of your face to admire your effortless beauty — blissfully unaware to how his deep morning voice made your heart flutter in your chest, and your pussy throb with need.

You grinned back, scooting closer into his arms as you gazed into his deep brown eyes, “pretty enough to fuck?”

Oda raised a questioning eyebrow, full lips curling into a grin, "oh? that's the game we're playing, love?" Strong arms wrapped around your bare figure, the marks of last night still fresh on your skin — a reminder to how he fucked you dumb on his cock only a few hours prior.

You felt your face burn from the memories of last night rushing back into you — god, you two were insatiable - you're sure Oda fucked you in every single position in the book, and it did nothing but make you crave him more.

"Still with me, darling?" he lightly tapped your cheek, snapping you back to the present. You nodded, a gasp falling from your lips as big, calloused hands found themselves groping at your tits, pinching at your cute nipples as he pressed open mouthed kisses on your neck — his stubble tickling the sensitive skin there.

"O-oda—"

"shhh, baby — lemme do all the work, yeah?"

And that's how you ended up with your face pressed into the pillows — silken bedsheets tangled around your bodies as Oda fucked his fat girth into your sopping cunt nice 'n deep.

A large hand was pressing your back into the meanest arch ever — strong hips slamming against the fat of your plush ass with each deep thrust, thick mushroom tip prodding at your g-spot - making you bleat out your husband's name pitifully. Oda only pushed your head deeper into the soft pillows — clearly too lost in the feeling of your velvety walls clenching around him.

He watched his cock slipped in and out of your pussy so easily — your slick covering his balls down to his thighs. Oda groaned deeply in his throat as he watched a creamy ring form around the base of his cock — your cunt sucking him in so eagerly that he almost thought it hurt for you to let him go.

You let out a particularly loud moan as Oda's cock hit that one spot in you — you could only bite down on the pillow as your eyes shut closed, pussy slobbering shamelessly all over his length.

"Oh? Did you like— argh! - t-that spot, sweet girl?"

⁰⁵ 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐌𝐀 — fucking you in your sleep

Sigma was a busy man — with running the sky casino and being part of the decay of angels didn't leave too much alone time with just him and you — especially for some.. intimacy. You knew he needed to relieve himself someway — all that workload while being pent up as fuck certainly wasn't good for him. Plus, you have been craving him as well.. so you came up with an easy solution.

The door to your shared bedroom clicked open — your beloved boyfriend, Sigma, letting himself in as his eyes racked over the entire room, searching for anything out of the ordinary — you did tell him that you had a surprise for him, after all.

Upon finding nothing, he stalked over to the bed, confusion lacing his features as he glanced over at your sleeping form. Slender hands slowly slipped the soft blanket off of you and oh —

It all clicked suddenly.

The lavender coloured lace suited your complexion so perfectly, the expensive material hugging your features like it was made for you. Sigma gulped, eyes fixating on the way your tits were practically spilling out of the flimsy fabric — your stiff nipples very much visible to his hungry gaze.

It wasn't long before he had his face buried between your plush thighs — Sigma was so desperate, not even bothering to take the lingerie off your body. Besides, why would he when you just looked way too good in it?

He was practically eating you out through the thin lace — nose bumping against your clothed clit as his tongue tried to push deeper into your cunt. You had him in a chokehold — but he couldn't care less.

Sigma's slim hips were rutting into the expensive sheets — precum leaking from his sensitive tip as he tried his best not to cum untouched just from tasting your sweet pussy, but fuck, you were making it so hard for him.

He felt his cock throb in his pants when you started letting out soft moans and sighs in your sleep — or were you even asleep anymore? He didn't know and neither did he care — mind too focused on making you cum on his pretty face.

"ohh s-shit — best surprise - sluurrp - e-ever—" he whined into your cunt, spitting directly into your sticky hole before slurping it all back up.

Safe to say, he definitely enjoyed your little surprise.

© 𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐘𝐎 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 ─ do not copy/translate/repost and/or recommend any of my works on different platfroms under any circumstances. reblogs greatly appreciated !

[thirteenemeraldcats]

Taking a phone call on public transport is one thing. Taking that call on SPEAKER. Is another.

[stellacadente]

i realized how much it scares me that my mind will convince itself of even the ugliest things if i start thinking them often enough and it's... yeah. like i had a good session with my psychiatric rehabilitation therapist i think it was very useful but then at the end i got hit by this feeling of fear... like i'm so scared of myself and how low i can get

[daydreaming-in-daisies]

i was this 👌🏾 close to riding that mechanical bull at the pride party today until the creepy old dude operating it kept insisting i go on and that he'll make it go "real slow" because "i'd look good on it" 🤢

[fingertipsmp3]

Okay. Is it delusional of me to try to signal to this guy in my class that I like him… through my choice of earrings

[seumyo]

BAKUGOU KATSUKI ✰ 10:32

You tell Bakugou once that you don’t know how to take the train home, and he almost blasted your ears off with semi-yelling (or full-on yelling at some point) insults. 

“Hah?” He scoffs, eyes narrowing. This information is new to him, and a surprising one at that. 

You? The nerd that always bested him when it came to academics, which pissed him off the first few months in U.A.? The person who was not only book smart but was street and people smart as well? 

The whole goddamn package doesn’t know how to take the train?

Really?

He’s calling bull.

“What do you mean you don’t know how to take the train home? What kind of idiot doesn’t know that?”

“I just—“ you’re abashed and really don’t know what to say, “I didn’t really— I’ve never had the chance to take one until now!” For a consistent honors student, you can’t really have everything, can you?

“How’ve you been getting to school and back, then?”

“We had a driver—“

“Fuckin’ course—“

“But hey! Listen—in my defense—my schools were usually a walking distance from our house.”

“And now what? Gonna stand here and wait for a miracle to happen?”

You nudge his side with a frustrated frown (more like a pout, Bakugou thinks.) “Quit it, asshole.”

He backtracks briefly, though you could barely tell at this point. And it’s clear enough that he takes your words into consideration. It could be the fact that you actually look scared shitless right now, something foreign to your typical lax and carefree persona.

“C’mon.” Bakugou grabs you by the arm.

“Ow— hey! Where are we going?”

“You have to learn somehow, or else you’ll look fuckin’ clueless and dumb, nerd.”

You don’t argue because you really just wanted to get home, and while you could just call in your driver, you considered that this was important information that would help you in the long run. Besides, you do agree with Bakugou that not knowing how to commute like this is embarrassing, especially at your age.

“What’s this?” 

Bakugou hands you a card. It’s decorated with a minimalist logo of Musutafu’s native flower, whose color is your favorite.

“An IC card,” he simply answers.

It’s cute, you thought. You noticed how the other commuters had the standard design, so Bakugou must've gotten it personalized to your preference. How thoughtful.

“You could’ve just helped me get a ticket, though,” you murmur. You fiddle with the card in your hand, glancing at him with a puzzled expression. “I don’t think I’ll be using this card that often. It’ll be a waste.”

“Then try and use it as often as you can, nerd.”

“I’ll pay you back for this—how much was it?”

“Forget it.”

“Really, Bak—“

“Forget it,” he barks. “Keep up, you shitty extra. Or else you’d miss the last train to your station.” Bakugou starts walking, and you follow suit.

You can load your IC card at the ticket machines or the nearest ATMs. Different stations call for different ticket gates that obviously have different fares. The expiration of cards usually depends on what provider you got them from—

“What do I do now?”

You’re hesitantly in front of the ticket gate, with Bakugou on the other side. You’re like a kid who’s lost their mother in the mall.

“Just—“ Bakugou had to take a deep breath and not make a scene in the train station. He pinched the bridge of his nose, calling for all his ancestors to give him the strength to remain patient.

“Place your shitty card on the card reader. That’s it.”

You do as you’re taught, and you awed when the gates opened and let yourself walk through with a stupidly big smile on your face. “I did it!”

Bakugou thinks it’s fucking stupid of him to think that your enthusiasm for mundane things was cute. But fuck, something must be wrong with him because suddenly he feels a flurry of butterflies lodged in his throat, his heart beating ridiculously fast. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” 

He gives you directions, how to navigate through Musutafu without getting lost, and the basic stations you’ll be passing by to get to your station. He sees you type most of the things he says on your phone, and the way you were so eager to learn was a sight to see, really.

Boarding the metro, people were just as eager to get home as you two. So you two stood, not that there was much room to do anything about it.

“Hold onto the handle unless you want to fall on your ass,” Bakugou says. His tone is hushed to not disturb the other passengers. At least he followed basic commuting etiquette. 

“It’s so beautiful,” you breathe out. The passing buildings were as huge as those of U.A.’s, if not bigger. With the golden hue of the apparent descent of the sun below the horizon, Musutafu just became more beautiful in your eyes.

He scoffs.

“What’s so interestin’ about a buncha tacky buildings? Never seen one before you came here?”

“Of course I have; they’re just not like this.”

Bakugou follows your line of sight, and he thinks about it carefully. He couldn’t see what you saw, but maybe it’s because he grew up looking at this scenery. It doesn’t amaze him as much as it did when he was younger, he concludes. To you, this was a first. 

An experience that could become a core memory in this city. And he’s with you as you live through it. The thought causes a familiar feeling of pride to exude from his chest.

Maybe he’ll learn to appreciate more mundane things with you too in the future.

The train stops at another station, and the people scurry out. Once in motion, you were surprised by the speed when it took off, and the motion had you stumbling back. You stumble against Bakugou.

“What did I say about keeping a firm hold on the handles, you shitty extra? That’s what those are for.” Whether it’s by instinct or unintentional, Bakugou guides your hand to hold onto the support pole. He doesn’t let go, and you didn’t make a comment about it.

“Sorry! Still getting used to it,” you quietly laugh. “I hope the people here don’t think I’m really that inexperienced when it comes to taking the metro home,” you told him. “It’s embarrassing to think that I haven’t taken one until now.”

Bakugou thinks it’s alright because you were actually on set to learn. No matter what those other extras say or comment, no matter if they give you unimpressed glances, he’s there to grant them one of his own spine-chilling glares if they had the balls to do so. 

A passenger who appeared to be around your age stood up from his seat. “Excuse me, you can take my seat. I get off at the next stop,” he says. You’re a bit hesitant to take the offer, but he reassures you that it’s fine. It’ll be an awkward death for you if you don’t accept it, because now he’s standing. “Please, I insist.”

Unknown to you, Bakugou had an obvious scowl on his face until the stranger left.

“You look like you’re about to shit yourself.”

“Shut up, I’m not.”

“Jealous?”

“Hah? Why would I be—”

“Shh!” you kicked his shoe with yours.

“Quiet, remember?”

Bakugou rolls his eyes, still frowning. You hold his free hand, cheekily smiling when he tries to free it from your hold. And in the end, he lets you do whatever the fuck it is that you want, but he would never ever admit that he was jealous of some nameless extra. He’s too far into liking you to help you board a train, get you a personalized IC card, miss his stop two stations ago because yours was still three stations after his, but he doesn’t think he’d be vocal about it anytime soon.

He’ll leave it to you to confess.

Then again, you already knew.

Bakugou Katsuki would not go above and beyond like this for anyone else, but he unknowingly does for you.

SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[leahwllmsn]

broke your heart, I’ll put it back together

alexia putellas x reader

In which Alexia is an excellent footballer yet a terrible, terrible girlfriend. You still love her nonetheless.

Alexia never had much experience with the love that she saw in movies: all the hugs and the “I love you”s and the heart-to-heart conversations. Alexia thought they were too cliché anyway. Especially the “I love you”s. Some people give proclamations of love too easily and not mean a single thing. 

Her sister loved to laugh every time people misjudged Alexia to be someone emotionless and cold, when in reality she was just “an awkward introvert who’s terrible at anything related to love and romance and all that jazz,” (Alba’s words). 

Although Alexia would say that that was false. Just because she turned awkward whenever someone showed a bit of affection didn’t mean that Alexia sucked at romance. Alexia had watched enough Nicholas Sparks movies to understand what she had to do when the time came. Flowers. Chocolates. Kissing in the rain. Simple.

(“Simple. Yup, definitely. That’s obviously why you’re still single at the age of thirty.”

“Excuse me! Puta.”

“Should I set you up with someone? Yeah. I’m gonna set you up with someone.”

“Alba, fuck off.”)

So maybe Alexia was thirty and still single. So what? Alexia just never thought of relationships to be that big of a deal. And it definitely wasn’t because of how she was as a person “distant and reserved”—or so how Alba described her to be. Her job was already taking too much of her time as it is.

Alexia was the best footballer in the world, and aside from trainings and matches to play, it also required back-to-back meetings and her full attention and wow, Alexia really was going to die alone as a cat lady which was so much worse because she was allergic to cats.

“Your turn, Ale.”

Alexia turned her gaze towards Mapi. It was media day at the Estadi Johan Cruyff. Alexia always had loathed doing interviews but it was part of the job. “How was it?”

“Fine as usual,” Mapi shrugged, flopping on the empty bench next to Alexia. “Have a feeling you will enjoy this one though.”

Alexia raised her eyebrows, moving to stand up. “Why?”

Mapi had a cheeky look on her face. “The interviewer is definitely your type.”

Alexia threw her jacket at Mapi’s face, causing the latter to laugh. “I will gladly say I told you so later! Just you wait!”

Alexia entered one of the rooms that was designated for her interview. It was going to be a fun and lighthearted video. Alexia couldn’t really remember the name of the media that she was assigned to, she had a lot on her mind lately. 

Especially since her family was throwing a get-together over the weekend and now both her mother and Alba were pestering her over bringing someone. Alba putting ideas into Eli’s head that Alexia should be seeing someone at this age and Eli quickly agreeing that she was spending too much time on football—

“Miss Putellas? Hi, nice to meet you.”

Alexia’s mouth went agape.

“I’m y/n and this is my team, Robert and Camila. Thank you for having us.”

On second thought, maybe Alba was right. Maybe Alexia really was destined to be the typical career woman who focused too much on work and never had time for love, especially since she was cold and distant and was really, really downright terrible at romance, because there was no way that her heart was doing somersaults when she should be working. This was awful timing. She was so unprofessional.

Her heart was definitely not skipping a beat because of an interviewer who looked to be in her twenties—oh god, Alexia was definitely not crushing on someone who looked like she was still in university.

But the moment you smiled, Alexia knew she was screwed

—

“Fuck you, Alba.”

“Well, Alexia Putellas, just so you know I do have hundreds of girls lining up wanting to fuck me.”

Alexia groaned into her phone. “First of all, ew! Not funny. I hate you.”

Alba laughed. “What did I do this time?”

“You planted these stupid, stupid thoughts into my head! I was thinking about being single so much that you made me have a crush on someone who’s supposed to interview me—”

“I’m gonna stop you right there. How is this my fault?”

“I don’t know!” Alexia exclaimed. “I went into the room and she was there with her stupid cute vest and little notebook in hand and her hair was brown and wavy but not too wavy, it was just perfect the way it falls perfectly down her shoulders and her stupid smile. She was smiling at me, Alba. At me. Smiling.”

“Oookay,” Alba dragged out. “When I said you should find someone I didn’t mean a sugar baby.”

“Alba!”

“What? An interviewer? Journalist? I doubt she’s making a lot per year—”

Alexia groaned even more. “Please don’t go around saying shit like this to anyone else.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Whatever, you’re no help,” Alexia stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, making sure that she looked fine. Not that she wanted to impress you—she just wanted to look fine to someone who was going to interview her. Yeah, that was it. “I'll talk to you later.”

“Going back to your new lover?”

“Shut up,” Alexia unlocked the door and stepped out of the bathroom. “I ran to the bathroom because I freaked out.”

Alba’s laugh was so loud that people in the hallways glanced at Alexia as she passed by. “Real smooth. You're totally good at romance. An expert. The real life Romeo—”

Alexia hung up and plopped her phone in the pocket of her tracksuit. She could get through this. She had played in front of thousands, she went through people criticizing her every move as if they were better than her. She wasn’t nervous then, why should she be nervous now?

“Sorry, where were we?” Alexia said as soon as she reentered the room. She took her seat, you on the other side of the camera, still with that damn smile on your face.

“I was just about to tell you that I have always wanted to interview you,” you replied.

“Me?” Alexia squeaked, immediately clearing her throat nervously. 

—No, not nervously. Alexia didn’t get nervous. Fuck.

“Yes. You’re a very interesting person,” you fidgeted with the notepad and pen in your hands, your shoes tapping on the floor slightly. Alexia realized that you were nervous, and somehow the thought placed a smile on her face.

“How long have you been working for …Dazn? You could pass as someone who hasn’t graduated university—not that I’m saying you’re not qualified to do your job or anything, you just look really young- not that it’s a bad thing! Lo siento. I’ll just stop talking.”

Real smooth, Alexia. Real smooth.

“Well,” you chuckled. “To answer your question, one: just for a little while and two: you’re kind of right.” You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and smiled bashfully. “I’m twenty-five years old, still in university, but for my masters.”

“I see,” Realization dawned on Alexia’s face and she had to look to the side to hide away her smile. A five year age gap. Not bad at all. 

…Not that it was important, though. Definitely not important. “What are you majoring in?”

You scrunched up your nose. “Isn’t this supposed to be me interviewing you?”

Alexia laughed. “I suppose so.”

“Should we jump into it then?”

“Fire away.”

—

As soon as you left, Alexia couldn’t concentrate for the rest of the day. She didn’t know whether it was because of how stupidly charming you were or because of your addictive smile—okay, no. It was probably not because of you at all. You, who she barely knew. You, with the stars in your eyes, staring at Alexia as if you adored her to bits and wanted to know every single detail about her, including Alexia’s favourite food.

“She asked the question out of nowhere, Albs. We were talking about the upcoming season the second before.” Alexia recalled.

“That does seem pretty random.” Alba replied in between bites of her food.

“Right?! It was like she was done with all her questions, but she wanted to get to know me further—”

Alexia’s sentence was cut off by Alba’s laughter. “Don’t get too cocky now, Ale. Just because you have a crush on her doesn’t mean she’s into you too.”

Alexia rolled her eyes. “I don’t have a crush on her. I can admit she’s attractive. And funny. And smart. Does not mean I have a crush on her.”

“Seems like you do,” Alba said, a smirk forming on her lips. “Which is great! Haven’t I been telling you to find someone? This is super great.”

“I’m not gonna date someone years younger than me, Alba,” Alexia cut into her steak and took a bite. Yup. She wasn’t going to date someone who was five years younger than her.

“She’s twenty-five, that’s nothing.”

Alexia narrowed her eyes at the brunette in front of her. “…How do you know her age? I never told you her age.”

“Google exists,” Alba said simply. “And remember the girl I’m sort-of-seeing-but-not-really?”

“Marta,” Alexia nodded.

“Maria,” Alba corrected. “She’s your girl’s best friend.”

Alexia paused her fork mid-air. “What?”

Alba hummed. “They're on the way here as we speak.”

“What?!” Alexia repeated, a clang echoing throughout her dining room as her fork fell to her plate.

“I invited them over for drinks.”

Alexia palmed her face and groaned. “I think I missed the part where you invited them over to my place without my acknowledgement.”

“Oh whatever, hermana,” Alba waved her off. “Stop acting as if I don’t live here.”

“You don’t,” Alexia reminded.

“Your place is my place and all that,” Alba teased.

“Alba,” Alexia felt like strangling Alba. Or anything to wipe that grin off her face—

The doorbell interrupted them.

Alba squeaked and jumped out of her chair. “That’s them!”

Alexia opened her mouth to say something but Alba was already out of the room before she could utter a word. Damn it.

Alexia forced herself to stay cool, following after Alba and sighing when she neared the front door and saw a girl she’d seen in Alba’s pictures and you.

“Hello,” Alexia greeted. 

“Amor, this is my grumpy and very single sister, Alexia,” Alba pointed at Alexia and Alexia slapped Alba’s hand away.

“I’m Alexia,” Alexia put her hand out, her smile widening when she caught your eyes. Okay, so maybe she didn’t hate Alba that much.

“I know, wow, it’s an honor,” your best friend shook Alexia’s hands. “You’re a legend.”

Alexia laughs, her cheeks turning red. “Thank you.” She turned to you and gave a little wave. “I don’t think introductions are necessary, is it?”

“Hi, Miss Putellas,” you said. Alexia hated how addicted she was to your voice despite having just met you today.

“Oh no. Alexia is fine, please.”

“Okay then,” you grinned and Alexia swore she could die on the spot. “Alexia it is.”

—

“So, Alexia,” you started. You were seated on one couch, Alba and Maria occupying the smaller seater to your left. No one seemed to be paying attention to the movie anymore. Alexia couldn’t even remember what the damn plot of the movie was. You, as it turned out, smelled really good and it was very addicting—and Alexia was insane. Insane for developing a tiny crush on you when you two had just met today. 

You looked like you didn’t know what to say, settling with, “Nice place.”

Alexia gave a soft laugh. “Thank you? There’s more that I haven’t shown you actually.”

“Yeah?” you sounded like you wanted to have Alexia show you around.

Alexia darted her eyes towards her sister and her ‘not-so-date’ to see that they had both fallen asleep. Alexia contemplated whether being alone with you would be something she should be doing or not, and after a moment she decided that there wasn’t any reason for her to not want to be alone with you. 

So Alexia stood up and offered a hand out for you to take. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

—

Five minutes into being alone with you and walking around Alexia’s house—or mansion, as you called it—Alexia discovered five things about you.

You had two dogs, Salt and Pepper, and Alexia could tell how much you loved them with the way you excitedly told the story about how you got them.

You were an only child and your parents spoiled you to bits and they supported you in everything you did, all the way from the United States.

You were American.

You were taking your masters in sports science and Alexia made a mental note to talk to the physios at Barça on whether they have a vacant spot for you. Not because Alexia wanted to see you everyday, but because she was sure you were a certified genius.

You were hilarious and made Alexia laugh a lot. Alexia wanted more of you.

You were in the middle of retelling how your day went and Alexia somehow really wanted to kiss you, which was dumb and stupid, considering how she barely knew you. 

You got excited over the littlest things, you talked animatedly about how you saw a dog on your way to Alexia’s place that looked a lot like your own and you gushed about how the dog barked excitedly at you. Alexia found it adorable, despite being confused on how a dog can bark ‘excitedly’.

“I’m sorry I talk a lot,” you said, tucking your hair behind your ears. 

“Don’t be,” Alexia bumped your shoulders lightly as you two continued your walk around her house. “It’s cute.”

You playfully rolled your eyes. Alexia could see the red on the tips of your ears. Adorable. “Can we go outside?” you asked, changing the subject.

“Sure,” Alexia led you towards the nearest door that leads to her backyard. “The pool is on the other side, this is my flower garden.”

“You have a flower garden,” you stated. 

Alexia hummed in reply. “I love looking at flowers. They are pretty.”

Once you stepped outside, Alexia felt her teeth chatter, cursing herself for not wearing anything more appropriate for the cold night air. When she was about to ask you if you wanted to head back inside, a jacket was draped around her shoulders and Alexia was surrounded with the scent of your vanilla perfume.

“y/n, you don’t have to—”

“Take it,” you insisted. “You’re freezing.”

“You’re gonna freeze.” 

Alexia shook off the black jacket and was about to place it around your shoulders but you walked ahead. “I won’t,” you walked backwards, smiling reassuringly. “I’m still wearing long-sleeves, see? I can handle it. Don’t worry.”

Alexia hesitated for a second before putting on the jacket. Alexia hugged herself tighter, it was still cold but also because the jacket smelled really nice. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” you replied. You stopped walking and Alexia would know this if she wasn’t so busy looking elsewhere but you. 

The moment Alexia bumped into you, your hands immediately went to steady her, resting on Alexia’s forearms. Alexia could feel herself flush, her cheeks getting warm, profusely apologizing because she was usually never this clumsy.

You giggled, your hands were still sending fire to Alexia’s skin, your faces inches apart. “That’s okay.”

“I should’ve watched where I was going,” Alexia’s face was apologetic. “I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay. Really,” you were smiling at her. “A lot on your mind today?”

Alexia studied your face and nodded. Definitely a lot. She noticed that you had a mole under your left eyebrow. 

“Mind sharing?” you asked.

Alexia immediately stood up straighter and cleared her throat. You dropped your hands, but made no move to step away. “Just- work. Media day has never been my favourite.”

Yup. Work. Definitely not because Alexia couldn’t get your pretty eyes off her mind.

You narrowed your eyes at her and Alexia held her breath. You were really close. It was getting harder to breathe. All Alexia could think about was that vanilla was about to become her favourite scent.

“You’re very interesting.”

Alexia raised her eyebrows at that. “I am?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I saw you at training yesterday, you know. We had a briefing to prepare for today. You were… I wouldn’t say scary, but I was pretty sure your teammates were about to pee their pants.”

Alexia broke into a laugh. “What?”

“You had that furrow between your brows,” you elaborated, raising your hand and hesitantly running a finger across Alexia’s forehead. “And I could hear your stern captain voice,” you chuckled, dropping your hand. “But despite that you were still as charismatic and graceful as ever. I could see why people would be so intimidated by you.”

“And that’s interesting to you?” Alexia said, her voice barely a whisper. Her heart was hammering wildly in her chest.

“Yeah,” you answered, your voice matching Alexia’s whisper. “Because while I was interviewing you earlier today and this whole night, you’ve been acting the opposite and I couldn’t figure it out.”

“The opposite?”

“You’re… awkward,” you laughed. “You take charge on the field, your chin held high, you look people straight in the eye when conversing with them. But you’re so awkward—you bump into me, you stutter, you can’t look me in the eye for more than five seconds.”

Damn it. You were smart. Well, Alexia knew you were smart, but this was… this was you being able to read Alexia’s thoughts and damn. it.

Alexia couldn’t even defend herself because it was true. All the things you observed were true and what could Alexia exactly say to that? That Alexia acted that way because she was nervous? That being around you made her nervous? Which was baffling because Alexia had done speeches in front of thousands of people without tripping over her words once, yet one night with you and Alexia‘s vocabulary went out the window.

“Uh I’m sorry if that was overstepping,” you said, finally stepping backwards. “I was just stating what I saw.”

You looked really beautiful under the moonlight. Your eyes casted downwards, your hands fidgety, as if you were doubting yourself about why you said all that. You looked nervous, perhaps about what Alexia would say next. 

But despite everything, you looked really beautiful under the moonlight and Alexia figured that there was no harm in telling you that.

“You’re right,” Alexia laughed. “You’re absolutely right.” A pause. “You’re beautiful.”

You whipped your head up and looked at Alexia with wide eyes. “What?”

“I think you look really beautiful right now,” Alexia exhaled and stepped forward. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. “That is why I’m so awkward around you. I just don’t know how to act. I get nervous around pretty girls.”

You laughed and Alexia took it as an opportunity to pull you in for a kiss, swallowing all your laughter.

Alexia became addicted to the scent of vanilla.

—

Turns out Alexia did suck at romance. She missed dates, forgot to call you back and was a bad texter. The first week Alexia didn’t think her thing with you was going to last. She really was terrible.

But weeks turned into months and despite the missed dinners, you stayed patient. You were there in her kitchen with takeout at 10 p.m., waiting for Alexia’s meeting to end. You were there at 7 in the morning before Alexia left for training, a bag of pastries in hand. Alexia would happily munch on her guilty pleasures on the way to training, quickly getting rid of any traces of crime from her nutritionists.

You didn’t get tired of her even though Alexia stupidly didn’t move an inch the first time you initiated a kiss. You only laughed when you first stayed the night at Alexia’s place and Alexia offered her bed while she slept in one of her spare bedrooms. You didn’t mind that you sent paragraphs of text only for Alexia to reply with one or two words—you didn’t get mad, instead you would call Alexia to get her reply because you knew Alexia preferred talking instead of texting.

And Alexia was never the one to show affection. Pats on the back between teammates were appropriate. Hugs were awkward. She kissed each of her exes once or twice. 

You were different and you were persistent. You liked hugs. You hugged Alexia any chance you could get. You preferred to cuddle during movie nights and you liked to hug Alexia from behind when she was cooking dinner. The fact that Alexia tensed whenever you hugged her just made you hug her even tighter.

Strangely, Alexia didn’t find it uncomfortable. If she did, she would've said something. But Alexia actually liked your hugs. 

(“Are all hugs like this?”

“What do you mean ‘are all hugs like this’?

“I don’t know, Alba. Like- you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.” 

“God, you’re nauseating.”

“I’m asking a genuine question!”

“You are in love that's what it is.”)

Five months into your relationship, Alexia started to be the one initiating the hugs. She was more affectionate; intertwining your hand with hers when you walk side-by-side and kissing you goodbye in front of your friends, not caring about the whistles thrown at you.

Alexia still missed dates and phone calls, but strangely enough you still didn’t seem to mind. Alexia was left dumbfounded because how were you perfectly fine with all of this? There was a reason why Alexia’s past relationships never lasted.

“I know you’re busy, baby. And I know you’re trying your best too.” you once said. Alexia almost shed a tear because how were you so. damn. perfect?

After eight months of being together, Alexia was juggling her relationship and football much better. She canceled an important meeting for the first time ever because she promised that she would pick you and your parents up from the airport.

Alba called her crazy, and her past self definitely would agree with Alba. Alexia didn’t care though. The smile on your face when Alexia showed up with flowers in hand was priceless.

“What are you daydreaming about?”

“Hm?” Alexia looked to the side and found you staring at her. “Nothing.”

You laughed, setting your book aside and rested your head on Alexia’s chest. Alexia wrapped her arms around your smaller frame and kissed the top of your head.

“If you say so,” you lazily drew circles on Alexia’s stomach. “What should we get for dinner?”

“What do you want?”

“You always ask me what I want,” you giggled. “Can you choose for tonight?”

Alexia hummed in thought and after a moment she added, “Pizza it is.”

You immediately sat upright, a huge grin on your face. “You really are a mind reader, you know?”

Alexia shrugged, a smile at the corner of her lips. “I told you.”

You shook your head fondly, laughing as you laid back down to your previous position.

“I love you, Ale.”

I love you. Right. Alexia should probably say it back at some point.

But should she even say it back? Wasn’t that too soon? Alexia didn’t know when the appropriate time of reciprocating your girlfriend’s confession of love would be.

When she asked Alba about it, Alba questioned her back asking if the reason she hadn’t said it back was because she didn’t feel the same way you did—which was stupid. Alexia made sure to throw her popcorn across the couch, all the way to Alba’s face, because what kind of stupid question was that?

The first time you said those three words to Alexia, Alexia accidentally sliced her finger instead of the tomato on her chopping board. It was three months after you became official and Alexia wasn’t expecting it. Not that soon, at least. But you did and Alexia was so caught off guard that you two had to halt your cooking session and order sushi for dinner instead. Alexia didn’t bring up the topic again all night and you didn’t either.

Just because Alexia didn’t say it back didn’t mean she didn’t love you. 

Or… maybe Alba was right. Did she love you? 

You, who were the most understanding and loving person Alexia had ever met. You, who made her laugh in the mornings and made her laugh before she went to sleep. You, who were never mad at Alexia when she forgot to call despite promising that she would.

“Being in love with someone and just enjoying their company are completely different things, you know that right?”

“What?” Alexia looked at her sister in disbelief. “Of course I do.”

“Cool. So which one is it with you?”

“Which one?”

Alba rolled her eyes. “Are you in love with her or do you just like having her around?”

In Alexia’s defense, she didn’t have much experience of being in love. How was she supposed to know whatever that feeling was like? The only relationship she had was with Jenni and that didn't work out because they were both too busy to have a relationship. Was she ever in love with Jenni? Maybe not. A crush, sure. Jenni was an attractive woman.

Was it the same with you? Alexia liked you a lot, that was for sure. Was it so much to the point that it was love?

Alexia figured if this was Jenni, she wouldn’t have to think about this so much. Jenni didn’t care about love and all the cliché things. Alexia didn’t either. 

And Alexia wouldn’t have cared so much if it weren’t for the fact that you told Alexia you loved her every chance you got. (Alexia felt like the world’s biggest asshole every time you got silence instead of her saying it back).

When it rained and Alexia always held the umbrella for the two of you, making sure not a single droplet of rain fell on top of your head but ended up soaking wet herself, you would laugh and “I love you, Alexia Putellas.” 

When you had to move out of your apartment and Alexia told you that you could stay with her until you found a place because she did have some spare rooms (even though you ended up sleeping in Alexia’s bed every night), “Really? Alexia Putellas, my saviour, thank you, I love you,” as you peppered her face with kisses.

When Alexia found out that Maria, your best friend, was also your first love, you reassured her that all your feelings for Maria were now strictly platonic. “She was my first love, but that was years ago. I love you. You’re my present and my future, Alexia Putellas.”

When you came home with Alexia for Christmas and some of her family members kept on sending wary glances towards you, you held Alexia’s hand on top of the dinner table and proclaimed your love for her for everyone to hear, your chin up and your tone proud. “I love Alexia. I’ll take care of her the best way I can.”

When Alexia would pick you up from classes, leaning against her grey Cupra, you would sprint towards her, a big smile on your face and a “You didn’t have to pick me up, I know you’re a busy woman. Love you.”

Every single time Alexia would return a smile or a kiss, never saying it back when she knew you were expecting it every single time. Alexia realized romance wasn’t as easy as she thought and this whole thing with you was bound to blow up if she didn’t get her shit together.

—

Turns out, it did blow up sooner than Alexia expected. She wished this point never came—she knew it would, she had been dreading it ever since—but Alexia cursed the stars for actually making it happen. She just wanted to at least hold you for another night.

You two were getting ready for bed, Alexia changing into her pyjamas while you were already tucked in bed and you two were fine. 

Alexia was talking about her day, how her mom scolded her because she was five minutes late to breakfast (which was insane because it was only five minutes), about the meeting she had for a possible new brand deal, and how she missed you the entire day. And maybe Alexia should’ve noticed how quiet you were or how your body tensed the moment Alexia slid her arms under the cover and wrapped them around your waist.

When Alexia thought you had fallen asleep, you spoke, just barely above a whisper.

“I love you.”

It was silent—so silent that Alexia could hear a hair pin drop. She didn’t know why this night felt different. Alexia didn’t know why there was an edge to your voice and why there was something else she couldn’t quite place.

You turned around to face your girlfriend. Alexia could make out the faint outlines of your face in the dark—she had memorized every single inch of you.

“I love you, Alexia,” you stated once more. This time Alexia could clearly hear the challenge in your tone.

Alexia stared back at you, a sinking feeling started to settle in the pit of her stomach.

Seconds passed by, Alexia saw the mixture of emotions all over your face. You were hurt, Alexia could tell. You looked angry too, this Alexia wasn’t expecting. 

“Do you love me?”

Alexia was taken aback by the bluntness of the question. “What?”

“Do. you. love. me?” your tone turned impatient.

Alexia was wide-eyed. This wasn’t where she was expecting this night to go. “y/n—”

You got up from the bed and Alexia followed suit. You two were standing in front of each other on the foot of the bed, you with your arms across your chest and a scowl on your face. 

“Hey, what’s going on?

“‘What’s going on’?” you scoffed. “Do you love me or not? I asked you a simple question, Alexia.”

“I—” Alexia‘s voice got stuck in her throat. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t like that she was being put on the spot like this either.

You stayed silent, an expectant look on your face. When Alexia didn’t say anything else, you let out a big sigh.

“y/n…” Alexia croaked out. She was afraid where this conversation would go.

You groaned, taking a fistful of your hair before exploding at Alexia. “It’s a simple fucking question, Alexia!”

Alexia was taken aback by your outburst. “I—”

You stepped forward, a fiery look in your eyes. “I. Love. You.” you punctured each word with a jab to Alexia’s chest. 

Alexia stared into your eyes, seeing the mixture of rage, sadness and disappointment swimming around in them. Alexia knew she should say something—she should say the one thing she knew you wanted to hear. But why was it so hard for her to utter those words? Was it because she didn’t feel it? Or was it because she was scared? Alexia didn’t know, she needed to think, but you weren't letting her.

“You don’t love me, do you?” your tone was full of defeat. Alexia knew that it was now or never. She was going to lose you—really lose you—if she didn’t say something. “All this time you never said it. I tried to make sense of it, I tried to make sense of you. You got me flowers every week—sometimes even twice a week. You listen when I ramble about useless things, you accompany me to my lame university events, let people talk to you about politics and you never talk back to them even though I know you have opposite views on things. You just want my friends to like you. You remember all the dumb little things, remember when we first met and what I was wearing at that time. You tell me I look good even though I stayed up all night doing my assignments, you tell me I’m beautiful at five in the morning, at midnight, in the middle of the day. You look at me like you’re in love with me. Like you love me.” 

You paused and took a deep breath. You gave a bitter laugh before looking straight into Alexia’s eyes. “You do all these things but you never told me that you love me. Not even once, Ale. And once upon a time, I believed you loved me. But I just—I don’t know anymore.”

Alexia stayed silent. 

“You’re not even gonna say anything?”

Alexia stayed silent because she didn’t know how to say anything without hurting you even more.

“So it’s true, then?” your tone was full of defeat, your eyes shining with unshed tears. Alexia hated herself for being the cause of it.

“y/n,” Alexia whispered, her hands reaching out to touch you but you moved away. “I—”

“No,” you ran a hand through your hair and gave a humourless laugh. “Just, save it, Alexia. I think I heard you loud and clear.”

When you slammed the door shut, Alexia felt the sobs at the back of her throat but she swallowed them. To cry meant she regretted everything that led you to walk out. 

Alexia did this to herself. She was the reason you left, Alexia didn’t deserve to cry. So Alexia stared out her window all night, wondering whether the reason her heart hurt so much was because the feeling she had for you was love all along and she was just too dumb to realize.

—

When Alexia didn’t get a single ‘I love you, beautiful’ in the middle of a meeting and when no one was there to kiss her goodnight and whispers of ‘I love you’, Alexia wondered how dumb she was to let everything slip from her fingers.

—

Maria came by her house a few days after you left, saying that you had asked her to pack your stuff up. Alexia couldn’t do anything else but let her in and watched as your things that were scattered around her house were shoved into boxes.

Alexia didn't say anything, she couldn’t ask Maria where you were staying now or if you were okay. Alexia figured she didn't deserve an answer. 

“Is this y/n’s?” Maria was holding a stuffed teddy bear, one of its eyes missing and an embroidery of your initials seen on its left chest.

“No,” Alexia lied, taking the teddy and sending your best friend a small smile hoping that she was convincing enough. “It's mine. I know I’m too old to own one of these… it has… sentimental values.”

Maria nodded and Alexia had a feeling that Maria knew she was lying, that she knew exactly that it was your favourite teddy bear and that Alexia lied because she wanted to keep a part of you to herself. 

“Okay then, I’ll get going,” Maria lifted the last of the boxes and gave Alexia an awkward smile. 

Alexia nodded and gestured towards the door. “I’ll walk you out.”

Once the back of Maria’s car was filled with your things, it dawned on Alexia that you were really gone.

You weren't talking to her anymore and there weren't any of your things left in Alexia’s house. There was no more reason for you to come back and Alexia had to force a smile on her face, not wanting to cry, especially not in front of Maria.

“Actually, uhm,” Maria cleared her throat. “y/n has something for you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Maria gave an awkward laugh before reaching into her car and pulling out an envelope. “She told me to give you this.”

Alexia took the envelope with shaky hands, once again forcing a smile onto her face. “Thanks.”

Maria was looking at her with so much pity in her eyes and a part of Alexia was angry at her, because just like Maria, she pitied herself too. How could she ruin such a good relationship? She felt pathetic and she understood why Maria was looking at her that way.

“Alexia, look,” Maria stepped forward and placed a hand on the captain’s arm. “I honestly think you two will get through this.”

Alexia gave a bitter laugh at that. Was Maria mocking her now? “She packed all of her things. Well, you did, but it doesn’t matter. What part of all of this still makes you think that she’ll come back? Because I don’t think she will. I screwed up. She is not coming back. It’s fine, I’ll live.” Alexia hated how despite trying to act unaffected, anyone could hear the shakiness in her voice.

Maria squeezed her arm lightly. “She loves you. And right now she doesn’t think that you love her back, which I know isn’t the case.”

“How? You don’t know what I’m feeling,” Alexia felt her defensiveness kick in. “What if she’s right and I don’t love her, not even a little bit?”

Maria shook her head and gave a soft smile. “You seem to forget that I’ve been in your place before. I know what it looks like to love y/n—to be in love with her. You can’t lie to me.”

Alexia crossed her arms. She didn’t know why she was getting annoyed at where the conversation was going. “Then why don’t you go be with her?”

Maria laughed at that. “Because she loves you, not me, silly. Plus, I’m in love with your sister.”

Alexia didn’t say anything in reply and Maria took that as a cue to leave. Before getting in her car, she looked at Alexia one last time. “Contrary to what you think, you haven’t really lost her—not for good anyway.”

“I appreciate your optimism,” Alexia replied, her voice lacking any enthusiasm.

“I know that if you show up in front of her right now and tell her how you really feel, she’ll take you back in a heartbeat. She loves you.”

“Then why did she ask you to pack her things?” Alexia challenged back. “If she still loves me like you claimed, wouldn’t she be fine with seeing my face and not having to avoid me? And she wouldn’t just- just leave.”

“Ale, you two broke up over something so stupid. I can’t for the love of me figure out why- how something so simple can—” Maria palmed her forehead, letting out a sigh. “Just tell her you love her. What’s so hard about that?”

“Because I don’t know if I do!” Alexia shouted frustratedly. “Okay?”

Maria softened at that and gave Alexia a reassuring smile. “I have a feeling that you already know the answer,” she shrugged. “Think it through. Don’t take too long.” 

And with that Maria left, leaving Alexia standing with your envelope in her hands. She took a deep breath and opened it. Alexia expected a long letter—maybe of you ranting about how much you hated her for breaking your heart, or pages filled with curses and how you never wanted to see her again. But all she got was a small piece of paper with one sentence and a bracelet that Alexia gave you on your one month anniversary.

it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way I do, don't beat yourself up

-y/n

—

When days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months, and Alexia still hadn’t heard from you, Alexia realized she finally lost you for good. Alexia realized that maybe she should’ve taken Maria’s advice, but she had put it off so much that now it had been months and who was to say that you hadn’t already found someone new? Someone who actually loved you.

The thought caused Alexia to finally bawl her eyes out, exactly three months after you left. Alexia let herself feel all the pain and hurt, savoring every little twinge in her heart because she deserved it all. She hurt you, she didn’t deserve anything good anymore.

Alba pulled her out of bed, telling her to get her shit together and usually Alexia was never the one to dwell on things—once you fall, you get back up. 

But this time it was different. Alexia felt that this was it. How could she recover from all this hurt when all she wanted was your smile back? Alexia thought that if she was given a choice, she would rather lose the Ballon d’Or than to lose you—that was how important you were to her. Alexia knew she was dumb to not realize it sooner.

Despite Alexia’s complete despair about the whole thing, Alba was adamant that Alexia could do something about it. Alba was the one who told her to woman up and chase after her girl and “Seriously, hermana? I know I said you’re terrible at romance but don’t let that define you?! Do something!”

One night, Alexia discovered a pub not far from her place. No one was there except for her and one bartender. It was nice, Alexia could drink as much as she wanted without any judgment from anyone, and most importantly, she could think.

Alexia had a list and it went something like this:

Do I love y/n? 

Can I get y/n back

Do I even deserve y/n back

Am I in love with y/n

Does y/n still love me

How can y/n be so perfect

Do. I. Love. Her

Alexia was brooding and drowning in her sorrows, everything seemed so wrong. It all seemed so difficult and it took hours of being alone, surrounded by alcohol, for Alexia to finally realize that it was actually simple.

Well, the drink definitely helped, but a song was playing on the speakers and Alexia would think that it was odd for a Taylor Swift song to be playing there if it weren’t for the fact that she was the only customer that night and the bartender probably just didn’t care about his song choices.

“Let me get this straight,” Alba said slowly, sipping on her coffee. It was the morning after and a Saturday, Alba was always at Alexia’s at 7 a.m.  “You had an epiphany… because of a song you heard?”

“Yes,” Alexia nodded. “It’s actually very simple.”

“Very simple…?”

“This whole thing. I’m in love with y/n.” Alba choked on her coffee and Alexia patted her back. “A shocker,” Alexia grimaced at Alba’s coughs. “I know.”

“What kind of song led you to this conclusion?” 

“Taylor Swift.”

“No fucking way.”

“What?” Alexia shrugged. “Kissing on sidewalks, light-hearted jokes, coffees at midnight… they’re all simple things but it’s who you’re with that makes it all so special. And I had all the things that the song mentioned with y/n, and they meant a lot to me—even though these things seem trivial, I cherish them a lot because I felt happy and- and in love. I get it now.”

Alba was stunned, Alexia could see with the way her eyes were widened and mouth agape.

“So this is definitely months overdue. Maybe I should’ve looked for y/n right after Maria took her things away, but it is what it is. I want to make things right. Help me, please.”

“Finally,” Alba sighed, a smile slowly forming on her lips. “I know where she lives now. Will you promise me not to break her heart anymore, because she's my girlfriend’s best friend and I really can’t have you breaking her heart again.”

Alexia grinned as Alba told her your address.

—

To get you back, Alexia had a plan (courtesy of Miss Taylor Swift):

Stand there like a ghost shaking from the rain

Say “It’s been a long three months and I was too afraid to tell you what I want”

Say “I want you for worse or for better. I would wait forever and ever. Broke your heart, I'll put it back together”

Remind her how it used to be

—

“Hi.”

Your eyes immediately widened once you saw Alexia. 

You stared at the girl in front of you for a good minute. Alexia had to hug herself tighter, her teeth chattering from the cold. “Are you going to let me in? Besides it being so cold, I don’t want your neighbour to see me in these.” Alexia gestured towards the baby pink sweatshirt with tiny puppies she was wearing. 

“You’re—”

“Insane?” Alexia grinned. Exactly like what the Taylor Swift song said. This was going as planned.

“No- well that too,” you said, looking at Alexia in disbelief. “What I meant to say is that you’re drenched.”

“Yes,” Alexia agreed. “It is raining.”

“Exactly! Why are you out in the rain?”

“Because- because I’m supposed to stand here like a ghost, shaking from the rain.” Alexia had a smile on her lips, hoping that you would smile back at her because that would mean that you didn’t hate her.

So when you laughed in disbelief and shook your head, ushering her inside, Alexia breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Do you want some tea?” you offered.

“No, thank you.”

“Right, my bad,” you opened your fridge, taking something out. “What I meant to offer is milk,” you placed the tiny sized milk carton on the kitchen counter and sat across Alexia. “I still can’t believe you drink this.“

“You don’t drink milk,” Alexia stated.

You shrugged, your cheeks showing a hint of pink. “This has been a permanent thing on my grocery list. It’s second nature. I guess.”

Alexia stayed silent. She didn’t know what she was expecting, but she wasn’t expecting this. Maybe she was expecting you to hate her. For you to slam the door in her face and never talk to her again. 

With how your last interaction turned out, Alexia was expecting you to be more angry, or to be anything other than to welcome Alexia into your new apartment and provide her with her favourite drink that you still bought even though you two broke up months ago.

It wasn’t making any sense to her. 

“How are you so civil towards me?” Alexia blurted out.

“I’m sorry?”

“You didn’t slam the door in my face.”

You looked confused. “Was I supposed to do that?”

“No!” Alexia quickly said. “I mean- it’s nice that you didn’t slam the door in my face. I think I would’ve, if I were you.”

“Oh. Well. I don’t think I’m the type to slam the door in my ex’s face.”

Alexia laughed softly. “Thanks.”

“Welcome,” you grinned. A warm feeling settled in Alexia’s chest because she really missed that smile.

The silence that followed was nice. Alexia’s eyes darted around your apartment as she sipped on her strawberry milk. You poured yourself a cup of tea and it was still funny how your choice of drink was more mature than Alexia’s despite being five years younger than her. 

“So what brings you here?” you broke the silence.

“Oh,” Alexia rubbed the back of her neck. “Why I came here…” Alexia trailed off.

“Why you came here…” you copied.

Alexia gave a nervous laugh. She had a whole speech planned out, but now you were staring at her and Alexia was surprised that your eyes that used to look at Alexia with so much love were still looking at her the exact same way. 

That, and combined with the fact that Alexia couldn’t spot a single trace of anger in your face despite what Alexia did, made her burst into tears.

Here was the thing: Alexia disliked crying. That was obvious with the way Alexia cried for you months after you left and not the days that followed. Alexia was convinced that crying was a sign of weakness, so whenever she felt hot tears at the back of her eyes, she would always squeeze her eyes shut and push them away.

It was surprising to her that she was openly letting her tears fall in the middle of her ex’s kitchen, her chest shaking as her cries became harder.

Alexia felt you next to her and the next thing she knew, she was being pulled into your arms. She could hear the pounding of your heart and she could feel your gentle kisses on the top of her head. It felt good and it made Alexia realize that letting her emotions show wasn’t so bad.

“I’m sorry.”

“Hm?”

“I’m really sorry for being so oblivious about things,” Alexia croaked out. “Sorry for hurting you. I never meant to.”

“Alexia—”

“Let me finish,” Alexia interrupted, turning in her chair to face you. She looked up into your warm eyes and took a deep breath. She could do this. Just like what she practiced. “Uhm- it’s been a long three months. I was too afraid to tell you what I want—”

“You are not quoting Taylor Swift,” you were holding in your laughter. “Are you?”

“y/n,” Alexia groaned. “I don’t know how to do this, okay? But Taylor Swift said—”

You laughed so hard and Alexia felt the warmness back in her chest. “Sorry it’s just,” you sighed fondly. “You hate Taylor Swift, Ale.”

“I don’t! I just don’t know her well enough to like her,” Alexia corrected. “There’s a difference.” 

“Mhmm, sure.”

“I listened to a couple of her songs and they weren’t that bad. Plus, the lyrics really resonated with me.”

“So all this speech is just you telling me you like Taylor Swift now?”

Alexia rolled her eyes, ignoring your remark. “No. There was one song about being in love, and it was so-” Alexia’s voice grew smaller, her cheeks reddening before she could finish her sentence. “It describes how I feel about you. It helped me… understand my feelings.”

You had an amused look on your face, almost smug. Alexia’s face kept on flushing under your gaze. “Hm. How so?”

“Oh you know,” Alexia started fidgeting with her hands on top of the kitchen counter, looking everywhere but you. “Just… That I understand why they lost their minds and fought the wars.”

You were quiet before you burst out laughing. Alexia had an offended look on her face yet she was smiling nonetheless. “Excuse me,” Alexia chastised. “I’m trying to confess something here.”

You immediately pursed your lips but not a second later the laughters were back. “Sorry,” you said once your laughter died down. “You’ve been quoting Taylor Swift the entire night. Who are you, Alexia Putellas?”

“Can you not?” Alexia pouted. “I’m not good at this, you know that.”

Alexia could feel your hands cupping her cheeks, causing them to burn under your touch. All this felt awfully familiar and Alexia had to remind herself that you were broken up.

Taking a deep breath while still having you so near, Alexia continued. “I can’t remember what to say next. Maybe because you’re too close,” Alexia bluntly said. When a hint of hurt and confusion flashed across your face, Alexia was quick to clarify. “You’re making me nervous, y/n. It’s- I’m just so nervous. You know I always get nervous around you. Can you please stand at least five feet away?”

You shook her head in amusement and moved away, sitting on your previous spot across from Alexia. “You’re ridiculous.”

Alexia smiled sheepishly. “I think what’s ridiculous is how we’re broken up yet it doesn’t feel like it right now.”

“It does, doesn’t it,” you had your eyes casted downwards, a wistful smile on your lips. ‘Remind her how it used to be’, checked.

“I’m sorry I screwed things up. You know how dumb I can be sometimes.”

“Yeah,” you scrunched up her nose. “You can be pretty dumb sometimes.”

“Hey!”

“But I still love you nonetheless.” And there it was again, the challenge in your tone. Alexia was transported back to that night three months ago when you left.

“Okay…” Alexia dragged on. “I know what you’re expecting and honestly I don’t know why it took me so long to realize it but—” Alexia took a deep breath. 

“I don’t have much experience with love and believe it or not, I’ve never been in love before. I just don’t find it important. What was important to me was football and being the best in the world, making sure my legacy lives on and how my dad would be proud of me, wherever he is. So if you’d ask me what love was a year ago, my paper would turn out blank, because I just don’t care. Alba kept on making jokes about how I’m going to end up alone and—” Alexia laughed. “Frankly, it wasn’t even a joke because I was pretty sure it would come true. But then I met you, and I was so determined to prove Alba wrong because I can care about someone other than football, but then you left, and I was back to the sinking feeling that maybe I’m just not meant for anyone. And before you say anything, y/n, I know I can overthink sometimes—or maybe a lot. But uhm- you being gone, it forced me to think and I realized that it’s actually a lot simpler than what I imagined.”

“Alexia, breathe,” you interrupted, a fond look on your face. 

Alexia took a deep breath, she didn’t realize how much she was rambling. “Sorry,” Alexia smiled sheepishly, scratching at the back of her neck nervously. “What I meant to say is—“

You caught Alexia’s hands that were waving around crazily in front of her. “I think,” you laughed, you intertwined your fingers and Alexia had to take another deep breath because she forgot what a sight it was to see your hands locked. “I really think you should breathe first.”

Alexia gave a nervous laugh. “I don’t know why I’m so all over the place with you. I can win championships, but with you… I had to practice my speech in front of a stupid mirror, because I know this will happen. This, as in me throwing up words- God, I’m such a mess.”

“You practiced in front of a mirror?” 

“Huh? Yeah,” Alexia’s cheeks grew red. “Of course I did…”

You let go of Alexia’s hands and leaned back. “Well then, go on.”

“Huh?” Alexia squeaked.

“Yes, your speech. We wouldn’t want your practice to go to waste now, do we?” you were smiling and Alexia really wanted to kiss that smile away. 

“Fine. Yes. My speech.” Alexia took a deep breath. “y/n. Love is… Love is mornings with you and how your smile is the first thing I see when I wake up. Love is the sound of your laughter echoing throughout the supermarket aisle when I did a stupid dance after getting the last box of mac and cheese. Love is the nights spent together, feeling the rise and fall of your chest and how you talk in your sleep. Love is the silence on the way home, when we’re both too tired to talk, but it’s nice and I don’t mind it. Love is the way your hands instantly find mine every single time. And I know that love isn’t perfect because love is me breaking your heart and unknowingly breaking mine too. Love is scary because love is lowering your guards down and putting your heart on a damn silver platter and giving your person the chance to ruin you. But I’d let you, y/n. I’d give you a million chances to ruin me because I love you.” 

Your stare was intense and Alexia had to look away. “Te amo. I do. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it, and I know it has been months and a lot has changed… but I’m here, if you want me. I am all yours. Because I love you. I’ve been in love with you ever since the first night, I think.”

Alexia forced herself to look back at you, her eyes locking with her favourite pair of orbs. “I want you for worse or for better, mi amor, and I would wait forever for you. I know I broke your heart, but I promise I'll put it back together.”

You had a smile on your lips and your eyebrow raised after Alexia’s last sentence and Alexia wanted to celebrate internally because maybe Taylor Swift was a genius after all.

But when you didn’t say anything else, Alexia’s smile dropped and she had to accept that you could very well reject her. It had been months. A lot could happen in three months.

Alexia could feel the start of pain in her chest but then you laughed and Alexia’s eyes widened because why would you be laughing if you were going to reject her?

“You love me,” you stated.

Alexia was still staring at you. “I do…”

You went closer to her until your hands were back cupping Alexia’s face and that was when Alexia realized that you weren't rejecting her. Holy shit.

“You dummy,” your tone was light but Alexia turned serious.

“I know,” Alexia sucked in a deep breath. “I was a terrible girlfriend, amor. I don’t know how you loved me when all I did was mess up, but I promise that I’ll be better if you—”

“We all mess up,” you interjected. “We’re not perfect, baby. And you’re gonna mess up again in the future and I will too, but we’ll get through it together.”

Alexia was silent, taking in your words. “So uhm,” Alexia had to contain herself from grinning from ear-to-ear. “You still want to be with me?”

Instead of answering, you leaned down and kissed her. Alexia let herself grin into the kiss and she swore that she would do whatever it takes to never lose you again.

—

Ale: I got the girl *insert smiling face with sunglasses emoji*

Albs: what

Albs: just use the emoji wtf weirdo

Ale: Thank you, Taylor Swift

Albs: you’re seriously so weird

Albs: how are we related?

Albs: but anyway congratulations 

Albs: you won’t end up as a cat lady after all :D

Ale: Fuck off, Alba. You know I’m allergic to cats

—

** INTERVIEW NOTES:

ALEXIA PUTELLAS

SHE SMELLS NICE Y/N !!! FOCUS

VERY SERIOUS, ONLY LAUGHED ONCE

JUST TOLD HER TO SMILE MORE BECAUSE SHE HAS A PRETTY SMILE WILL SHE KICK ME OUT

SHE LIKES TACOS ??? IS THIS EVEN IMPORTANT 

SMART, INTELLIGENT, VERY ELOQUENT WITH WORDS !!! JUST TAKE MY HEART ALREADY ALEXIA PUTELLAS 

HER EYES CRINKLE WHEN SHE LAUGHS OMFG ADORABLE

I THINK I’M IN LOVE

SHE JUST ASKED ME WHAT I’M WRITING DOWN

BYE

—

a/n: this was a looong one hope you enjoyed it, loves !!! please let me know your thoughts :) :) :)

[reidrum]

if you keep asking | s.r

pairing: spencer reid x fem!bau!reader

a/n: this was requested with “if you keep asking me i’m not gonna be okay” or smth along the lines 😭 i am a glutton for hurt/comfort fics so if yall have any more requests send em in :)

summary: in which you’re trying to keep it together when you hear some detectives talking ill of you, and spencer isn’t gonna have it

cw: hurt/comfort, self deprecation, insecure!reader, bitch ass detectives, protective bau my heart, use of she/her pronouns

wc: 2.2k

_______

the bau team was filing into the bullpen after landing from their last case in seattle, everyone making a beeline for their desks to get a head start on their reports so they could go home faster. everyone, except you. it felt like you were on autopilot, remembering your last known movements and just repeating them for as long as you could.

the case in seattle was rough to say the least. the unsub’s mo seemed to change every minute, making any progress the team made obsolete. the only thing that seemed to be somewhat consistent was where the unsub was taking his victims, which meant the geographical profile was the most important part to solving the case, a task you and reid were assigned to.

it started off fine, you both had found the comfort zone of where the unsub would strike next to figure out how to catch him in the act. except the next time he struck it was completely out of the predicted range, and this time a kid had died. no one could have anticipated that happening. it didn’t make the loss hurt any less.

the team knew it wasn’t anyone’s fault, humans are unpredictable, and that includes serial killers. spencer made sure to tell you specifically that it wasn’t your fault, he knew how you’d get if someone didn’t tell you.

his efforts went to utter waste when you walked by a room at the precinct with detectives whispering about how “you fucked up the whole profile, that’s why that kid died” and “it’s clear you make the team stupider, how did you even get into the fbi in the first place?”

it wasn’t the first time your abilities were in question. you were the newest member of the team, having only transferred six months ago from cold cases. you may be new to the field, but there was a reason hotch chose you personally for the bau.

you tried hard to prove yourself, despite pretty much everyone saying your skillset was enough proof. you’d stay late to finish reports, do extra research on cases to help garcia narrow her searches faster, and you spent countless hours at the training range.

you were a worthy agent, anyone who knew you or read your resume knew that. but right now, you felt like the smallest person on earth, an imposter. what the hell were you even doing here if you couldn’t save him.

you shouldn’t be allowed to feel relief that the team caught the unsub, not when there’s blood on your hands.

the bad thoughts swirling in your head causes you to stall your motions when you’re putting files away, gaining the attention of morgan, “you alright, sweet cheeks?”

“i’m good morgan, don’t worry.” you lie effortlessly. if he can tell you’re lying, he doesn’t mention it and turns back to his work.

taking a deep breath, you stand up to go to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee, when you run into jj finishing up making her own, “i was just thinking about you, i got this new creamer i think you’d rea-, hey, are you okay?” jj starts but ends concerned.

you try to focus on metronomic tick of the clock so you dont escalate, “i’m fine j,” you laugh unconvincingly, “what creamer did you get?”

she ignores your question, “because i know that was a tough case, and if you need to talk about it with someo-“

“jj, drop it, please.”

the blonde’s face drops a little at your sternness, but respects your space and offers you to try the creamer before returning to her desk. you feel bad for snapping at her, but the growing guilt within you is giving you apathy, and you can’t bring yourself to care at this moment.

you linger in the kitchen so as to avoid any more concerned faces, and you’re left to your own devices that are slowly overtaking you.

unbeknownst to you, spencer had been watching you since you all landed back in quantico. he kept his distance, mostly because he knew how overwhelmed you get at confrontation, especially about your emotions. he was the same way, a man of logic getting befuddled by emotion was enough cognitive dissonance to last a long time.

he knew it was different with you. you had a way of internalizing everything in your surrounding, a downfall to your endless empathy for others even if they never deserve it. he could explain the logic behind your beliefs, and hopefully use facts to help you relax, but that was the other thing he knew about you; you were stubborn. asking for help is something you hated doing, and if it wasn’t on your accord to be asking, it was even more detrimental to your mood.

so when he watched you duck out from the kitchen and push past the glass doors of the bullpen, he knew you were reaching the head of your doom spiral quickly.

spencer got up from his desk, “i’m gonna go check on her.”

jj nodded, “just be mindful spence, something feels different.”

they’d all been on cases that hit a little too close to home, how could they not when all they do is rid the world of the evilest of evildoers. but after a good cry, a rant to a teammate, or even an emergency therapy session, even the worst of the scum could be washed away.

something about the way you’ve been acting since they landed seemed like those fixits aren’t going to work this time.

he let out a sigh in response and walked out of the bullpen, realizing he didn’t actually know which direction you went in. assuming you’d want to be alone, he thinks the bathroom might’ve been a viable option for you and heads towards it.

the nice thing about the seventh floor is that it’s only for the bau, the bullpen was where the team spent most of their time but outside the doors there were so many empty rooms being used for storage.

so as spencer walked towards the bathroom in the hopes of finding you, his ears pick up on a tiny sniffle a little ways before it. he stops in his tracks, hoping he was just hearing things. but another pained sob rang through the door on his left, and he knew he’d found you.

he rapps the door a few times, softly calling your name, “hey, it’s spencer…can i come in please?”

you were on the other side sitting at one of the abandoned desks with your head down, but shot up at hearing spencer’s voice, “i- i’m fine i just needed a minute. i’ll be back in like two minutes, i promise.” you angrily wipe at the tears pooling on your face, grateful that you took your makeup off in the plane.

“honey, that’s not what i asked,” he starts, “is it okay if i come in?

your heart clenches at the term of endearment as you stare at the door knowing he was waiting for your okay to come in, and you start to internally weigh your options. you could let him in, and let him in to do whatever comforting you know logically would help. or you could lie, and feign ignorance to the end.

don’t they say ignorance is bliss?

you make sure to wipe the last of your tears and your runny nose before practicing a few fake smiles so it didn’t look like your face was frozen in sadness for the last thirty minutes. turning the knob you swing the door open, borderline creepy smile on your face as you greet the man, “hi dr. reid! was there something you were looking for?”

he furrows his brows at your complete (fake) shift in mood, but he comes in and shuts the door behind him, and moves to stand a few feet from you, “what’s going on?”

“nothing spence, i’m fine.” you insist.

spencer thinks if you could be more see through you’d be a windexed window. you’re avoiding eye contact with him, picking at the skin of your thumb, he can see your nose is red most likely from all the tissue blowing, and your eyes are still puffy and lined with some unshed tears still. you are so clearly breaking at the seams, like an old childhood teddy bear with stuffing falling out the sides yet hoping you can offer some semblance of stability despite your state.

“you don’t look fine, honey. why won’t you tell me what’s bothering you?”

his words almost make you falter, and you think the walls you built so high are starting to chip down. “it’s not a big deal spence, i-,” a hiccuped breath gives you away, “i can deal with it on my own.”

spencer instinctively shortens the gap between you two, “you shouldn’t have to. i just wanna help you.”

“but i’m oka-“

“no you’re not.”

there is only one tiny thin thread left holding you together. “well,” you take a deep inhale and your voice gets impossibly small, “if you keep saying things like to me i’m not gonna be okay.”

“that’s why i’m here.” he says softly.

you look up at him with the biggest glassy doe eyed look he’s ever seen, and it’s like spencer can hear the snap of the thread in real time when he watches your face absolutely crumble. he doesn’t hesitate to pull you into his embrace, allowing him to hold your head down in the middle of his chest while his other hand smooths up and down your back in comfort.

“i know, shh, hey it’s okay, i got you.” he comforts.

your hands wrap around his waist beneath his suit jacket and you keep your face buried in his chest, inhaling the musky vanilla scent of his cologne mixed with the fresh laundry detergent smell letting it ground you back to him.

“i’m sorry.” you cry.

“don’t say that,” he hushes, “is it about the case?” you nod in his embrace, “we talked about it remember? there was nothing we could have done. we did everything right, sometimes it just doesn’t work out, you know that.” he moves his hand to tangle in your hair and rub your head.

“i- i know,” you say through labored breaths. you take a big breath before admitting the true reason for your anguish, “when we were about to leave, i walked by a room with some detectives talking about how i ruined the case and that…i’m the reason the kid died.”

“what?” he pulls back to look you in the eyes hoping to find any indication that you didn’t believe those poisoned words, “we both worked on that geographical profile together, the whole team agreed it was accurate and acted accordingly. what happened was not your fault. at all.” he emphasizes the last two words.

“yeah but…i don’t know maybe i could ha-“

“stop. you can’t do that to yourself. we did what we could with what we had, the burden of that child’s passing does not fall on you. we were only able to find the unsub’s hiding spot when you figured out he’d been going to the same gas station since the murders started.” he reinforced to you.

“they said that they didn’t know how i even got into the academy in the first place, and that i make the team stupider.” you quietly added.

spencer felt the rage consume his body, already planning the ways he was going to obliterate seattle pd. he cradled your head to look at him in the eyes, “listen to me. you are an important asset to this team. you make this team better at what they do, you make me better at what i do. you mean so much to me and the team okay? please don’t forget that.”

he swipes at a fallen tear on your cheek as you tell him between sniffles, “thanks spence…” you hope he understands the sentiment and love you’re trying to exude to him, even thought you’re unable to vocalize it.

“you gotta tell me if something like that happens,” he softly scolds you, “i’ll make sure they lose their fucking jobs.”

you’re about to speak when he cuts you off, “and don’t tell me that we should be the bigger people, because once the rest of the team hears about this, they’re all gonna be fighting over who’s gonna kick the shit out of them.”

you let out a tearful giggle, “you sound really funny when you curse.”

he scoffs, “what the hell, i do not!”

“you sound like a baby duckling that just learned how to say fuck.”

he starts to guide you out of the room and towards hotch’s office so you can recount what happened, “ouch, i’m hurt. i’d like to think the pistol and fbi badge i carry makes me intimidating.”

you giggle again, and spencer puts aside his rage to revel in the fact that you’re feeling better.

when hotch learned of what happened he immediately called seattle pd to file a motion to get those detectives fired, and the rest of the team were secretly praying for a case in seattle again so they could, as spencer predicted, kick the shit out of them.

[emmyrosee]

tw// cursing, yelling, long stints of fighting, Kiyoomi is a little toxic, blood, patching up injuries, broken noses, ANGST- please be safe friends ❤️

I talk a lot about Kiyoomi being an amazing sport about your clinginess, your closeness, and your affections, right?

But what about when he's not?

What happens when the one day you try to crawl into his skin, spilling your head over his shoulder and squeezing him tightly, peppering kisses over the side of his face and jawline, and when he asks you to please stop, you don’t.

“You’re just too yummy,” you say happily. You bite his ear, “this is your tax.”

He shrugs you off sharply, “I’m not paying the tax today.”

You stumble back slightly, regaining your footing and taking a step back from him. “I’m sorry… bad day?”

Bad day. Yeah. It was. He can’t fathom how bad today was, how every time he said anything, Miya was right in his ear simply talking, sending shivers of annoyance to course through kiyoomi’s veins. How Bokuto accidentally almost hit the ball straight to his face, his own intensity almost causing Kiyoomi the season. How meian benched him for being too intense, too much and needing to ‘cool off’ with every spike and scowl kiyoomi flails to the other side of the court. How the threats of sending him home for his attitude started, causing Kiyoomi to shut his mouth but white knuckle the rest of the day.

But kiyoomi doesn’t answer that like a normal person.

That would be too easy.

“Maybe I just don’t want you dangling off of me the second I walk in the door.”

His mind screams at him to shut up, but he can’t.

You take a deep breath in, “I didn’t know, I’m sorry. Usually you… you don’t mind-“

“Well maybe I should start minding.”

Shut up.

Your eyes hold betrayal as he spews his venomous words, your chest rising and falling as he balls his fists to try and ground himself.

“I’m sorry. I’ll think more about your feelings when I try to cuddle you.”

“What you do is not cuddling-“ the balled fist slams against the countertop. “It’s clinging. It’s suffocating. It’s ridiculous, and it’s obnoxious-“

“‘Yoomi-“

“And for the love of all that is fucking malevolent would you PLEASE STOP CALLING ME THAT!” He roars. “I gotta deal with it from FUCKING MIYA, now I have to deal with it at HOME FROM YOU?”

You don’t know why you do it. But you flinch.

He’s so loud, so in your face and so mean that it happens without you even knowing you did it, the only indication being that his face instantly drops and pales at the mere idea of you being so afraid of him you flinch.

He says nothing. He can’t. What could he say?

He quickly makes a dash to the door, grabbing the keys dangling from the hook and leaving right then and there, bile rising in his throat and chest swelling with disgust as your terrified face plays over and over, like a movie he can’t turn off because he’s the one who put it on.

He runs. He runs fast and far, down the street and over hills and across crosswalks that don’t permit him from crossing yet, trying to create distance between himself and the monster he was god knows how long ago.

He finds himself- somehow- at work, the bright lights of the arena snapping him back to reality that you’ve been alone for who knows how long, but at least long enough where he’s back at his physical job. On foot.

The gods give him the smallest semblance of mercy as Miya and Hinata are still together, setting and spiking away until their hands grow calloused, cheering with each successive spike sent hurdling to the floor.

Hinata notices the panting Kiyoomi first, his head cocking in concern. “Hey… thought you didn’t want to train with us?”

“You.” Kiyoomi’s dark eyes fall onto Miya, and without even processing the fact that he shouldn’t be doing this, he makes a blind dash at the blonde, who then instinctively runs the other way.

Hinata instinctively darts out of the way, “woah! What! Miya what’s going on!”

“I didn’t do anything!” The blonde whines. “Not this time! I swear!” Hinata scrambles into action, chasing after Kiyoomi who’s on another runners high as he chases his teammate around the linoleum floors of the volleyball court but is still no match for Hinata’s own speed.

Great for Miya Atsumu. Terrible for sakusa Kiyoomi.

Bulky arms wrap around Kiyoomi’s waist and immediately weights around him, slowing him down from skinning Miya alive, “no, sakusa! Enough!”

“I’ll kill him!” He barks at whoever will listen to his threat. “I’LL KILL YOU!” He points a finger at the blonde.

And Hinata’s not proud of it. Honest! But it’s what he had to do to stop his friends from mauling each other, and he trips Kiyoomi flat onto his face, a sickening crunch! under the squishing cartilage of nose and skull slamming into the floor. He lays there in defeat, panting softly into the floor and crying even quieter as his two teammates surround him.

He needed to cry. That’s it. Now that he’s crying, his salty tears mixing with the blood dribbling from his nose and the gash in his head, he feels better, he feels lighter and like he’s finally getting to express every fractal of emotion that surged through his veins all day in what is finally a healthy way.

It only cost you being uncomfortable around him.

He safely decides it’s not worth it.

“Sakusa,” Hinata begins. “What happened?”

“I was cruel,” he says, now wailing into the floor. “They flinched at me. I ruined everything. Again.”

He can’t tell from looking, but he practically feels the weight of understanding fall onto his teammates, a soft ‘ahhh,’ falling from Miya’s lips. He hears the squeak of shoes next to his head, and when his bloody face turns upward to see Miya Atsumu’s calm, non-judgmental features, he cries even harder, his tears mingling with blood as they fall to the floor.

“Go home, Kiyoomi.”

“I can’t. I shouldn’t.”

“Yes, you should,” Hinata interjects. “You need to be there. I don’t know what happened, or what Atsumu did to piss you off, but I know you want to sort this out.”

“I ran here,” Kiyoomi sniffles. His hand instinctively comes to wipe his nose, the taste of blood filling his throat once he’s finally able to see just the sheer amount he’s bleeding.

“YOU RAN HERE?!”

“I had to. I had to go somewhere.”

“I’ll take him home,” Miya sighs, calmly stepping away for a moment to grab his keys and bag. Hinata claps a large, comforting hand on Kiyoomi’s back, his own feet stepping away as Kiyoomi childishly stays on the floor, blood trickling onto his lips and down his chin. He’s gonna have a gash in his head for sure, maybe even a black eye, and he hopes you’re open to taking him to the hospital to get it clean.

The car ride back home is silent, save for the occasional sniffles coming from Kiyoomi and his pinched nose, stuffed with bloody toilet paper. Miya keeps his car surprisingly clean, it smells like pine and citrus and it cuts through the tension and pounding in kiyoomis head from the smell. He doesn’t know when, but Kiyoomi mumbles a soft “I’m sorry” at some point.

Miya chuckles, “you’re having a bad day. We all get those. You ain’t special.” It makes Kiyoomi chuckle softly, for the first time in what feels like days. When the car rolls up to your shared house, kiyoomi shakily gets out of the car, slamming the door closed and leaving Miya to drive off.

“Kiyoomi?”

“What?”

“You come at me like that again, I’ll give you another black eye.”

Kiyoomi chuckles and shakes his head at the blonde, “you’d never even get a shot in.” He rolls his shoulders, sniffles back a little bit more blood, and makes his way inside, shaky hands opening the door and stalking in like a zombie.

When he comes into your view, you’re quick to get on your feet, getting up to fuss over him.

“Fucks sake,” you gasp, cupping his cheeks and inspecting the dried blood over his face. “You leave for two hours and come back beaten up?”

“I fell.” Not really a lie.

“Yeah, don’t care,” you snap, grabbing his wrist and tugging him to the bathroom. “Let me clean you up. Is your nose broken?”

“Doesn’t feel like it.”

You groan and gently grab the bridge of his nose, and he whines and reels his head back petulantly out of pain. “Ow.”

“Yeah. Go to the doctors, Kiyoomi.”

Kiyoomi.

Shit.

“Please come with me?”

He sees you tense up as you grab a wet towel, pausing your movements and taking in a deep breath to calm down, “yeah. Yeah I’ll go.”

“Hold my hand when I’m scared?” He tries to joke.

You don’t laugh. You don’t say anything. You dab the blood from his lips and chin, careful of his nose and the bruising around his eye. “I don’t know where you fell but you’ve got a black eye blooming.”

He tucks his swollen lip into his teeth nervously, “I ran to Miya.”

“Osamu?”

“No. Atsumu.”

Your hand pauses again, “did he hit you?”

“No. He’d never.” Even if he did deserve a smack coming to him.

You roll your eyes and escort him out of the bathroom, “come on. I’ll drive.”

The drive to the hospital is silent.

The waiting room is silent between you both.

Sitting in the doctor’s office is silent, save for the crunching of his nose as his doctor recenters his nose and he whines in pain. You do squeeze his hand through the pain, even if he doesn’t deserve your kindness.

The ride home is silent.

Your walk to your bedroom is silent, and as Kiyoomi sets up a bed on the couch is silent.

The next few days are silent. Kiyoomi can’t play due to his nose, leaving him to merely watch on the sides with a protective splint covering the bone. At home, it’s no better, with you dodging his kisses and affections with no indications you’ll ever want them again.

He wonders, briefly, if this is it. You realize you’re too good for him, worth more than a man who plays volleyball and screams at people, you deserve the stars and moon and you’re not getting it from him.

Between losing you and volleyball, he hopes its punishment enough

He can’t take it anymore. He’s lost the two loves of his life in the span of four hours, over a stupid mistake he made his bed with.

It’s been four days; you haven’t said six words to him, and he doesn’t even bother trying to get affection from you, he knows better than that. But he’s yearning for you, and while he’d never force anything onto you, he just wants to know:

Is there anything worth salvaging? Or is it just an exhaustive task, one he already knows the answer to, and you’re just too kind to tell him in person?

He needs to find out.

“Smells good in here,” he says quietly, looking at you with optimistic eyes. You give him a shrug back and continue to dress the warm bread with garlic and butter. “What’re you making?”

“I… I uhm saw a thing online on how to make bread shaped like a frog,” you say, turning back to it quietly. “Thought it would be fun.”

“It’s cute.”

“Thanks.”

The room is quiet, and when Kiyoomi hesitantly leans in for a kiss, you turn away, not ready for his affections yet.

Maybe ever again.

“I would like to kiss you,” he says, pleadingly.

“I don’t want to kiss you.”

“That’s okay. Can I… can I hug you?”

At the idea of being trapped in his arms, you shake your head, pushing him away and trying to make some distance. He obeys, but as you continue to shove him, he suddenly tries to intervene

“Please, stop,” he chokes, grabbing your hands to still you.

“Stop what?” You ask, even though you know the answer. Your hands do stop shoving him, but you avoid his gaze intently.

He sighs shakily, “I love you. I love you and every part of you. I love when you try to get inside of my skin and take my socks off with your toes. I like when you pick my nose and tickle me because I hate it, I like it when you sniff me, please just love me again.

I was so agitated that day, and that wasn’t your fault, and now I’ve ruined us because I was cruel. But please,” he collapses to his knees and wraps his arms around your legs, “just love me again. You’re safe, and it’s okay. Please.”

You don’t return his emotion, having been hurt by showing it before has made the feeling sour. “Kiyoomi-“

“It’s ‘yoomi. What happened to yoomi, why won’t you call me that anymore?”

“You screamed it out of my vocabulary, in case you forgot,” you snap. He squeezes your legs tighter like a child. “You don’t get to keep doing this. You don’t get to decide one day to snap or tell me know about something I’m doing, then a few days later tell me you miss doing it. For fucks sake, I flinched!” He starts to tremble against your legs. “And now you tell me you want to go back to how it was! You’re out of your mind.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’ll try my hardest to be better for you. A better man. A better boyfriend.”

“There’s almost no way for you to be worse.”

This time, he lets you go and stands up. His eyes are swollen with tears, the dark irises even deeper from the reddening of his scleras. “So, what?” He begins, voice wobbly. “We’re just never going to show affection again? Be in loveless love? Is that my punishment?”

“It’s NOT THAT BLACK AND WHITE!” You yell, losing your composure for the first time that fight. Your hands come down to grip and smack the bread against the counter, ruining it and sending crumbs flying everywhere. You sigh and lazily throw it in the sink in defeat, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. “You sincerely think I wouldnt love nothing more than to wrap MY arms around you, squish your cheeks in MY hands, crawl into YOUR lap and cuddle when you get home? You think I wanted to make bread shaped like a fucking frog for fun? NO! I’m doing it, because YOU told me YOU didn’t want me to DO THOSE THINGS!”

“I was wrong!” He yells back. “I’m sorry!”

“THAT DOESNT MEAN IT WAS STILL OKAY TO DO!”

The room is silent. Too silent. Theres a rattling of dishes that can be heard from your screams of agony, a cabinet creaks and somewhere away, the dryer dings to signal its contents to be done.

Kiyoomi takes a deep inhale in through his nose to keep himself grounded, and you watch with balled fists. “I want you to feel like you have space. You deserve that. But you also need to know you’re endgame for me. You’re the only one I want, the only one who makes me feel excited to wake up in the morning and slip into sleep at night. And if this is it for us, you need to know that you were the greatest thing that ever happened to me.”

You give him a sad, shaky sigh.

“I made a mistake. I made you feel unsafe in your own home. You never deserved that, never deserved that level of cruelty. Do you understand?”

“I think so,” you murmur.

“Do you need me to stay with Bokuto for a few nights?”

“No.”

“Do you need me to sleep on the couch?”

“…no… I don’t think so.”

He tears up at the idea you’re not completely upset with him, enough to sleep next to him in the same house. “What can I do to make you feel more comfortable?” He chews at his swollen lip, “I want to help you be comfortable around me again. Please.”

You gnaw at your lip as you process his words, and with a small shake of your head, you slowly, almost so slowly he doesn’t see it, slink towards him, resting your head on his chest and wrapping your arms around his waist. When his arms loosely slither around your waist, you tighten, but you don’t stop him.

It feels foreign, but so right at the same time. His swirling head is finally stilled. The demons stop their bark as you bury your face in his chest, sniffling softy in the fabric.

“Last time you left,” you begin. “You came home with a black eye from Miya. I’d hate to see what happens if you come home from Bokuto’s.”

“Okay, hold on, it was not from Miya.”

The change in tone has you laughing in his arms, and he tries to keep cool and not immediately pull you into a spine crushing hug that’ll spook you away from him again. He can’t help himself though, from rubbing his face against you and taking inhales of your scent, the shrieking and howling in his mind finally going quiet at the contact of you.

“Kiyoomi?”

“Yeah?”

“You ever talk to me like that again, I’ll give you another black eye.”

He chuckles and does, finally, squeeze you tighter, “I don’t blame you for a second.”

[andvys]

It's just us | S.H.

Warnings: 18+, angst, cheating (reader and Steve get cheated on by their partners), heartbreak, betrayal, enemies to lovers, King!Steve, smut, breeding kink, mention of pregnancy, r and Steve are both over the age of 18, mentions of reader having nipple piercings

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: You and Steve hated each other from the first moment you met but when you get betrayed by the people you love the most, all you have is each other.

Word count: 8k+

Author's note: I was really fucking close to making this an Eddie fic or at least a Steddie fic cause Eddie Munson owns me but this one is for my Steve girlies and for the ones who asked me to write for him before so here ya go. And I'm back to focusing on my one and only

stranger things masterlist

part two (steddie x reader)

-

There was one person that you hated more than anything, Steve Harrington. From the first moment you have laid your eyes on him, you just couldn’t stand him. You hated his cocky and arrogant personality, his perfect reputation, how sure of himself he always was. You hated King Steve, you hated the way he looked at you, you hated the way he used every opportunity to piss you off, he said things that he knew would get under your skin. 

He hated you too, he hated how loved you were, he hated how popular you were. Both of you rivaled each other, he was the captain of the basketball team and you were the head cheerleader. In a perfect world, you would be together and people would call you a dream couple but instead you two hated each other’s guts. 

You threw nasty words at each other, bickering every time you were around each other. You avoided him as much as he avoided you and for a while it worked until he started dating your best friend, Nancy. 

Over were the peaceful lunch breaks at the cafeteria where you would only sit with her and your boyfriend. Steve started tagging along with her, greeting you with cocky grins and mocking waves whenever he would sit down opposite of you. 

Not only were you forced to spend every lunch break with him, you also had to tolerate him during movie nights, parties and even worse, double dates. 

You hated him more and more. 

You thought that your boyfriend would take your side, joining in on the Steve Harrington hate train but oddly enough, they became friends. 

Months went by and you had hoped that Nancy would realize what a douchebag King Steve is, leave his ass in the dust and find another boyfriend but she seemed happy and he did too. 

Nancy and Steve were happy. 

Jonathan and Steve got along. 

Everyone got along, except for you and him. You hated him but god, you grew to love the fights and the bickering, you found entertainment in them. You loved pissing him off, loved teasing him, loved throwing mean words at him even when you knew that he would do the same and say something hurtful in return. 

Yes, Steve Harrington got under your skin but you got under his too. It was clear, the way his cheeks turned red and his eyes flashed with anger, he would clench his jaw and his fists before he’d turn away from you. 

“Tina is throwing a party this friday, are we going?” You ask, batting your eyelashes at your boyfriend and your best friend. 

“Of course, we’re going,” Steve says. 

You rolled your eyes as you turned to look at him, “I wasn’t talking to you, Harrington.” 

Jonathan sighs, mumbling your name in annoyance. 

You ignored him, continuing to look into hazel eyes with a challenging look on your face. 

“Bitch,” Steve mumbles. 

“Steve!” Nancy exclaims, turning towards her boyfriend with wide eyes, “that wasn’t nice.” 

“Aw,” he shrugs, throwing his arm around her shoulder, he turns back to you, giving you a small smirk, “I’m sorry, queen y/n.” 

You scrunch your face up in annoyance, he knows you hate when people call you that. 

Rolling your eyes, you reach for the fries on your boyfriend’s plate, throwing some at the man in front of you, “shut up, asshole.” 

He dodges the fries, laughing when they hit some kid behind him. 

“Are you gonna wear one of those ugly leather jackets again?” He asks you, “they make you look cheap, y/n.” 

A laugh falls from your lips, you lean back in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest, “at least I don’t let my mom buy my clothes,” you say as your eyes trail down his shirt, “seriously, have you ever stepped foot inside a store yourself? Your mommy still dresses you up like you’re some innocent little virgin.” 

His smile falls and he scoffs at you, “I’m not a virgin.” 

“I know, you’re a whore in virgin’s clothes.” 

He raises his eyebrows at you, “seriously?” He snorts, “you wanna call me a whore now?” 

You are both so caught up in each other, you don’t notice the stolen glances between your boyfriend and his girlfriend, the longing gazes, the forbidden touches between the table as they reach for the other’s hand. 

If you paid more attention, you would have noticed it a long time ago already but you were focused on other things. 

Jonathan was a loving and sweet boyfriend, you had no reason not to trust him. 

If you would’ve just known.. 

“Are we gonna go to the movies tonight?” You ask as you finally turn away from Steve and look at your boyfriend, smiling at him, you’re unable to see the guilt in his eyes. 

He blinks, coughing nervously. 

Nancy looks down at her food tray, pushing around the salad she hasn’t touched, her cheeks are red, her brows are furrowed. 

You don’t notice how weird they are both being but Steve does, it is something he hasn’t noticed before but feels like it’s always been there, the tension in Jonathan’s shoulders, the distant look in his eyes, the furrowed brows as he looks down at you. 

“Uh, shit, I-I no, I forgot to tell you, I’m taking Will to the record store tonight and he asked for a movie night,” he explains. 

Steve expects you to frown at his words, sigh sadly and mumble a quiet ‘oh’ but instead your eyes light up and you grab Jonathan’s shoulder, “oh! Can I come with you?” You ask excitedly. Steve might not know much about you except for the very obvious things but he knows how much you love spending time with Will.

“We just wanna have a boys night, next time, alright?” 

Now your smile falls, only for just a second but Steve sees it, he sees the disappointment in your eyes, the one you quickly mask with a pretentious smile, “oh that’s fine, umm I hope you’re going to have lots of fun,” you say, leaning in to kiss his cheek, he gives you a smile, one that doesn’t even reach his eyes. You lay your head on his shoulder, linking your arm with him. 

A weird feeling settles in the pit of Steve’s stomach, he leans back and stares at the man in front of him, he sees the way his eyes meet Nancy’s blue ones, it just for a split second but he sees it. 

A few months ago, he wouldn’t question it. He never had a problem with their friendship, Jonathan was her friend before he became her boyfriend and you never had a problem with their friendship either, you trusted them. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have. 

Steve doesn’t know why but he can’t shake the feeling that something is off, that things have been off for a long time now. He tells himself that he is overthinking things, that he lets his anxious thoughts get the best of him but they had only gotten worse when Nancy canceled their date after he had dropped her off at home, he was excited to take her out, he had it all planned, he would take her to dinner and movies and afterwards they’d watch the stars at lovers lake but instead he was left in the cold after she told him that she couldn’t go out with him because she had to help Mike with his homework. Mike, who was here at Benny’s diner with Will, Dustin and Lucas. 

“What the fuck,” he mumbles as he stands there, staring at them with a dumbfound expression on his face. 

Mike was clearly not in need of help for his homework and Will didn’t seem to have plans for a movie night any time soon. Someone drove them here but it wasn’t Jonathan, no, it was Eddie Munson who jumped into the empty seat next to Dustin as he held some book in his hand. 

Slowly he started piecing everything together and as he thought of all the times Nancy had canceled their dates at the same time as Jonathan had canceled yours, his stomach dropped. Those weird looks both of them shared earlier today just added to his worry. 

He forgot about the order he had placed and rushed out of the diner, ignoring the waitress who called for him when she held the bag and a drink in her hand. His mind was running wild as the worst scenarios rushed through his thoughts. 

He doesn’t even remember how he got into the car or how he drove all the way to the Wheeler’s house. His heart was racing and his hands were clenched into fists, he was nervous and the anger inside of him was already building up. 

He had suspicions but he didn’t want to dwell on them, not yet. But when he climbed up the wall to his girlfriend’s window, hoping to find her studying or listening to music, he didn’t find her doing any of those things. Instead, he caught her having sex with your boyfriend. 

He grips the wall tighter when he almost loses his footing. He can’t even stop the gasp from escaping as his eyes widen. 

His girlfriend is having sex with your boyfriend. 

Nancy is fucking Jonathan, Nancy who is your best friend.

He stares in shock, frozen in place and with a broken heart he stares at them. Jonathan’s hands are on her waist, gripping her tightly as she bounces on his cock. She bites her lip to stay quiet. 

The bile rises in his throat, he feels sick, he feels betrayed and angry. 

He turns away and closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before he jumps down into the grass. He almost throws up into Karen’s beloved flowers but he holds himself together, at least for now. 

Tears brim in his eyes, he doesn’t understand. 

Why would she do this to him? 

Why would she hurt him like this? 

Why would she cheat on him? 

Why would she do this to you? 

You have always been her best friend, you grew up together, your mom’s are best friends. You have always been by her side, you have done everything for her. You could’ve chosen other friends, you could’ve been friends with other popular girls like Chrissy Cunningham but no, you stayed friends with Nancy. 

And Jonathan… Now, Steve had become friends with him when he started dating her and thought that Jonathan was actually a pretty decent guy but before that, he had always wondered why you even gave him the time of your day. You are the popular and annoyingly happy cheerleader and he is just, well, he is Jonathan. The boring freak. But then again, rumor has it that you have always liked to associate with men who weren’t anywhere near your league and apparently you liked to fuck freaks, that’s something that Steve could never believe. You were a good girl, you had that innocence in your eyes that told him that rumors were just rumors. 

For some time, Steve thought that you were playing a prank on Jonathan, that you dated him for a bet but when a year had passed and you still looked at him with those stupid heart eyes, he knew you were serious about him. 

Now he feels like throwing up, he isn’t just angry for himself, he is also angry for you. If the betrayal hurt him so much, what would it do to you? 

The moment he steps into his bathroom, he drops to his knees and pukes his lunch out. 

God, he has never felt this sick in his life before. How will he ever move on from this? 

He loves her with all his heart but he is so incredibly angry and hurt. He spends the rest of the night crying, unable to catch a moment of peace. He stares at the ceiling as he lays in his lonely bed, tears stream down his face as his mind replays the horrible things he had seen. 

What should he do? 

Should he confront them? Should he break up with her? Should he make a scene and humiliate them in front of the whole school? No, he is not like that and he wouldn’t do this to you. 

He doesn’t know what to do. So he pretends that everything is fine. 

He takes a shower, styles his hair and picks out an outfit that you won’t tease him for. He drinks his coffee and then he picks up Nancy but the moment he lays his eyes on her and she gives him that cheerful smile and kiss on the lips, he feels himself growing sick again. How could she pretend that nothing happened? How could she kiss him like this when her lips touched his last night?

The anger diminished a little only to rush back even more intensely when he was forced to greet Jonathan at school. God, he wants to punch him so hard, he has to restrain himself from doing so. Especially when he lays eyes on you. A big smile is resting on your face, your eyes are shining with happiness, your perfect ponytail is bouncing as you rush through the hallways with your pretty little cheerleader uniform. You wrap your arms around your boyfriend’s waist and lay your head on his back, “hi babe, I missed you so much last night.” 

“I missed you too, y/n,” Jonathan says as he smiles, placing his hand over yours. 

Steve grows hatred for the man and for his girlfriend when he feels her squeezing his hand. 

He can’t even stop the scoff before it falls from his lips, causing all three of you to look at him in confusion. 

“Is everything okay?” Nancy asks, feigning concern. 

He nods. 

You raise your eyebrows at him, a cocky smirk tugging at your lips, “ooh, did someone had a rough night?” 

Yes and you’d be having one too if you knew that your boyfriend was buried in my girlfriend last night, Steve thinks to himself. 

He doesn’t say anything, instead he shuts his locker and turns away from the three of you, “I gotta go to class,” he mumbles without giving Nancy a goodbye kiss or Jonathan a pat on the back the way he always does. He bumps into someone, not bothering to apologize, he grumpily mutters something under his breath. 

“Who pissed in his coffee this morning?” You chuckle, missing the way Nancy and Jonathan looked at each other. 

“I- he probably got into a fight with his dad again,” Nancy says, shrugging nervously. 

You step away from Jonathan, walking towards your best friend, you take her hand in yours, “is everything alright between the two of you?” 

She blinks, looking over your shoulder and back to you, she nods, “y-yeah, totally,” she smiles, shaking her head. 

“Okay, good,” you smile, squeezing her hand, “but I’m always here for you and you can talk to me, okay?” 

She looks down, nodding at your words, “yeah, I know.” 

“Alright, well, I think we should go shopping after school, I need some new party outfits.” 

“Oh, I-I can’t, y/n. I already have an outfit and I was supposed to look after Holly today.” 

You frown at her words, a sad look flashes in her eyes.

“You are a busy girl, Nancy Wheeler.”

-

Steve was being weird, well, he was always being weird but something about him today was just off. Not only did he pay no mind to you, he also ignored Jonathan and Nancy. 

No comments were thrown your way today, no mean words, no remarks, he didn’t tease you or even glare at you. Nothing. You saw him talking to Robin Buckley when you were on your way to the bathroom. He looked like was on the verge of tears and the girl comforted him with a hand on his shoulder and words you couldn’t make out. 

Seeing him like this makes you feel weird, you don’t really care about him but you care about your friend and there’s clearly something going on between them and you are certain about that when you sit down beside Jonathan in the cafeteria. Just like yesterday, you sit across from Steve but instead of meeting his teasing eyes, you meet his angry ones, though you feel that the anger isn’t directed at you but at someone else. 

You try to ignore him and the way his gaze seems to be getting more and more intense. He watches you and Jonathan, a frown deep in his features as he watches how your boyfriend kisses you like nothing ever happened. 

You don’t know. 

You don’t know what he is doing behind your back. 

You don’t know that he is hurting you, that he is cheating on you with your best friend. 

How long have they been going behind your backs? 

Has this been happening when you were all together at parties? When you went to the lakehouse his dad owns? God, he could scream and expose their disgusting secrets to the whole school. 

“Aren’t you hungry?” Nancy asks as she puts her hand on Steve’s thigh. He tenses up, clenching his jaw as he turns to look at her. 

“No, I’m not hungry, Nancy.” 

Your eyes flash with surprise, the tone in his voice was filled with anger. 

She looks taken aback, furrowing her brows at her boyfriend’s behavior, “you barely touched your food–” 

“I said I’m not hungry!” He snaps at her. 

Before any of you can even react, he gets up and storms out of the cafeteria, not caring about the prying eyes of the other students. 

You frown at his behavior, growing angry when you see the tears in Nancy’s eyes. 

“That asshole,” you mumble, getting up, you follow him out, ignoring Jonathan’s and Nancy’s calls. 

You slam the doors to the hallway open, rushing towards him with anger in your bones. 

“Steve!” 

He keeps walking, ignoring you. 

“Hey!” 

He abruptly turns around, throwing his hands up, he sighs, “what!?” 

“What?” You scoff, “what the fuck was that? Why are you being so mean?” 

He laughs at your words, closing his eyes, he pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. 

“She didn’t do anything to you, Steve.” 

“If only you knew.” 

Something about the way he said it and looked at you, sent shivers down your spine. 

Instead of the usual hatred and anger you see in his eyes, you find empathy in them. Why? It makes you nervous. 

“W-What do you mean?” You ask. 

Steve knows that you won’t believe him, you gotta see it with your own eyes, you don’t deserve this. You love Jonathan, you have always been good to him. You deserve better and he knows he does too. 

“Steve,” you mumble, “what do you mean?” 

You have got to know. You’re a smart girl, you should’ve noticed the way your best friend and boyfriend behaved around you, the way they looked at each other, the way they touched each other. 

Right now, he doesn’t hate you, he just feels sorry for you. 

“Go to Nancy’s house this afternoon.” 

“No, she– Steve!” 

He walks away before giving you an explanation, leaving you standing there like a fool. 

What is this about? 

Usually, you would never listen to him, you wouldn’t do what he had told you to do. You wouldn’t go to Nancy’s house if you didn’t have your own suspicions already, the ones that made you feel sick for the longest time. 

His seriousness and his anger is what made you feel scared. 

He wasn’t mean to you today, he didn’t even glare at you, that’s how you knew that something was very off. 

So you listened to him, you went to Nancy’s house. You didn’t want to but on the way home from the mall, you drove by her house and found Jonathan’s car in the driveway. 

Nothing weird about it right? They are friends, they are allowed to be friends. 

Yet, you can’t shake that awful feeling that something horrible is about to happen. So you park the car and make your way inside her house, using the spare key that she gave you years ago. 

The house is empty, Karen isn’t there and neither is Ted. Holly and Mike are nowhere to be seen. You don’t call out for Nancy the way you usually would. With a nervous sigh, you grip the keys tighter in your hand and climb up the stairs. 

You hear music coming from her room, The Cure. Nancy doesn’t listen to The Cure but your boyfriend does. You hear the noises, you hear them. 

With a shaky hand, you open the door and as you lay eyes on the two of them, your heart drops and a gasp falls from your lips as you raise your hand to cup your mouth. 

There he is, your boyfriend, shoving his tongue down your best friend’s throat. Both of them are half naked, her chest is covered in hickeys already, his hair is a mess, both of them moaning into each other’s mouths as she moves her hand into his pants. 

“What the fuck?” 

They jump apart when they hear your voice, staring at each other like deers caught in headlights before they look at you. 

Her blue eyes widen as do his. 

No longer do their cheeks glow red, instead they look pale when they see you standing there with tears in your eyes and anger on your face. 

“Fuck– y/n!” He scrambles to his feet, trying to find his shirt. 

Nancy looks away from you, crossing her arms over her chest, she suddenly feels too ashamed to meet your eyes. 

“You are fucking disgusting,” you mumble angrily, ignoring the heartbreak in your chest or the feeling of your throat getting tighter. The tears begin to spill and you look between them in shock. 

Jonathan takes a step towards you. 

“Don’t come anywhere near me, Byers. We’re fucking over!” 

His eyes widen, his lips part as he tries to speak but no words leave his mouth. 

“And you, fuck you, Nancy.” 

You don’t care to look back at them, rushing out of the house as quickly as you came. You wipe away the angry tears, biting down on your quivering lip as you get back in your car. 

You knew it. You’re no fool. You knew it. You just made yourself believe that you didn’t but deep down you always knew. Who were you trying to fool? It was so clear. 

Can you even feel heartbroken? You set yourself up for it when you started dating the guy who always saw her. 

-

Maybe Steve should’ve told you, maybe he shouldn’t have told you to go to her place, maybe he should’ve protected you from seeing that. But did he have a choice? You hate him, you wouldn’t have believed him, you would’ve scoffed at him and laughed in his face. 

But still, he should’ve told you. 

He shouldn’t have let you see that. 

Now he feels guilty for it, despite the ache in his chest and the betrayal he still tries to deal with, he feels guilty for not telling you. 

You are pretending to be fine when you’re not. 

You didn’t come to school on Wednesday, Thursday or today but here you are at Tina’s party, dressed in the skimpiest outfit you could find, throwing back one drink after the other, yet you don’t seem to be getting drunk but it’s only as he notices you pouring yourself coke instead of alcohol that he realizes you aren’t here to get drunk. 

You are here because you don’t want to be alone, just like him. He had a feeling that you would come, that was another reason why he came. 

The loud music is hurting his ears and the whiskey is starting to give him a headache. He places his drink on a small table. Running his hand through his messy hair, he pushes past a group of girls who begin to whisper behind his back. Nancy’s and Jonathan’s name falling from their lips. He decides to ignore it. 

His focus is on something else, you. You’re standing by the punch with Heather Holloway, giggling about something she had whispered in your ear. 

Should he talk to you? 

You down the rest of your drink and place the cup on the counter, gesturing to the stairs as you leave your friend. He decides to follow you and calls your name. 

You turn around, smile disappearing from your face when your eyes lock with his, an eye roll and a scoff is all he gets. 

He rolls his eyes too, what else did he expect, a hug? 

“Can we talk?” He has to yell for you to understand him. 

You only shake your head and continue your way up the stairs. 

“Please?” 

Once you stop in front of a door, you turn around and look up at him, “no.” You slam the door in his face, causing him to sigh. 

He leans against the wall, deciding to wait for you. 

What does he even want to say to you? Does he even want to say anything to you? 

When you walk back out, he doesn’t even give you a chance, he takes your hand in his, ignoring your protests or your light slap to his back. 

“Let go of me, Harrington!” 

“Nope,” he mumbles as he pulls you into an empty and dark room, he pushes against the wall before he turns to close and lock the door, leaving you in complete darkness. 

“What the hell do you want from me?” 

Steve frowns. 

“Shit, hold on,” he mumbles, “I can’t find the light switch.” 

“Seriously?” 

You can hear him moving around, cursing under his breath. Maybe it would’ve been funny under different circumstances, if you were locked in a room with someone other than King Steve. 

“Got it,” he mumbles as he turns on the lights. 

Your arms are crossed and a frown is on your face, lips set in a pout. 

“I uh– I heard you broke up with Jonathan?” 

You squint your eyes, “that’s what you wanna talk about? What the fuck do you really want?” 

“I should’ve told you, I shouldn’t have sent you there,” he admits in guilt, giving you a sad look. 

You scoff at his words, rolling your eyes, “yeah right, you want me to believe that, Steve?” 

“It’s the truth, I’m very sorry,” he says, “about everything. You don’t deserve this, they’re fucking assholes for doing– for you know–”

“For cheating on us?” 

He glances at you and for the first time he sees something other than hatred, empathy, you feel for him just like he feels for you but it’s obvious that you still don’t like him. 

“I-I can’t imagine what it must feel like for you,” he mumbles, “she’s been your best friend since you were kids and he–”

“Fuck them both,” you mumble, rolling your eyes. 

You are in denial about your feelings, pretending to be fine so you don’t have to confront your pain. He can see it in your eyes though, the pain they left behind. 

“When did you find out?” You ask. 

“The day before you did. I went to the diner and saw Will and Mike there and I knew that they both lied, I went to her house and.. yeah.” He can’t bring himself to say it, he doesn’t have to. You know it. 

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” 

He looks confused almost, shaking his head slightly, “you wouldn’t have believed me?” 

“You expect me to believe that that’s the reason why you didn’t just tell me?” 

“That is the reason!” 

You walk closer to him as tears well up in your eyes, “fuck you, Steve Harrington! Fuck you. You sent me there to taunt me! I know you caught them and you wanted me to catch them too, you wanted me to feel what you felt, you wanted me to suffer, you’re a fucking dick, Steve! I hate you!” 

His eyes flash with anger, he scoffs at you, clenching his jaw. 

“Go on, let it all out.” He nods. 

He might not know as well as your friends do but he can tell that you were pushing the pain back, you refused to cry over a man who cheated on you and over a best friend who betrayed you in the most hurtful way. 

You are dealing with your emotions by using him as a punching bag and he doesn’t like it, so he decides to do something else. 

“Y-You are such a–” He cuts you off by grabbing your cheeks and smashing his lips against yours, he kisses you roughly. 

Your eyes widen and you squeal in surprise. 

What the fuck? 

Steve Harrington is kissing you. 

He is kissing you and you fucking like it. Your life couldn’t have been more of a mess. First your boyfriend cheats on you with your best friend that he dated and now he is kissing you. He is supposed to hate you, he is supposed to be horrible to you but instead he is kissing you in a way you have never been kissed before. 

Fuck it. 

His lips tastes like cheery coke and he smells so fucking good. 

You throw your arms around his shoulders and close your eyes as you kiss him back. He moans against you, the sound shoots straight to your core. You move your hand into his hair, gripping it and pulling his perfectly styled hair. 

His hands slide down to your waist and he pushes you further into the room without breaking the kiss that grows heavier by the second. He grabs your ass, squeezing it tightly with his large hands, earning a moan from you. Steve smirks against your lips as he presses himself against you. 

“S-Steve,” you whimper as you break the kiss, “what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You ask the man you are supposed to hate. 

He presses another kiss to your lips before he pulls away, staring at you with his hazel eyes that hold both pain and anger, “why do they get to have all the fun?” 

You swallow nervously, you hate him, you hate him so much and yet you find yourself longing for him, for his touch, for his lips. 

He leans in again but you push him back weakly. 

“No,” you whisper, “I hate you.” 

“Yeah?” He rasps against your lips, “feeling’s mutual, honey. That’s okay, we don’t have to like each other, right?”

You blink, shrugging, your eyes flicker down to his lips, “I-I guess not.” 

“You can mark me up, show her who fucked me,” he tells you as he pushes you down onto the soft bed, playing with the hem of your skirt, “you can let your anger out on me, I don’t mind.” 

“You really wanna fuck me?” You ask as you chase after his lips, kissing them almost a little too softly. 

“Fuck yes, I do,” he murmurs as he latches his lips onto your neck, spreading your legs so he can settle in between them, “I wanna rip your skimpy little clothes off, make you scream my name.”

His lips are soft yet rough as he marks your neck, he sucks and bites on your skin, squeezing your waist tightly with his hands as he grinds his clothed dick against your aching cunt. 

“What makes you think that I’ll scream your name?” You ask, closing your eyes and furrowing your brows as you moan at the feeling of him. God, you can already tell that he is big.

“I’m gonna fucking ruin you,” he says in a way that sends shivers down your spine, your pussy clenches around nothing. 

“Do it then because he never could.” 

A smirk grows on his face. 

“You wanna fuck me to get back at him?” You ask, “do it then.” 

Before you know it, he rips your top off, throwing it over his shoulder before your bra joins it on the floor. Lust fills his eyes and his cheeks flush red when he sees your nipple piercings, “holy fuck,” he mumbles, staring at you with a dumbfound expression as he grabs your boobs, touching your sensitive nipples with his fingers, “shit… the good little cheerleader has her nipples pierced?” 

You look up at him with a pleading look in your eyes, moaning as he continues to roll your nipples. You grab his hand, bringing it up to your face, you wrap your lips around his thumb and begin to suck on it. 

His eyes widen yet again, pants growing tighter as his cock hardens in his tight jeans.

“Fuck, you’re a little freak aren’t you?” He smirks darkly, “Byers couldn’t handle all of that, huh? Guess he wasn’t the freak after all, it was you.” 

He really couldn’t. It was only ever lazy sex with him, sloppy blowjobs and making love. You didn’t want to make love, you wanted to be fucked like a whore. 

You shake your head at him and spread your legs, letting your skirt slide up. 

“Shut up and fuck me before I find someone else.” 

“Shit,” he mumbles as his eyes fall on your lacy red underwear, your already soaked underwear, it makes his dick twitch in his pants. 

“You shut up, princess. I’m not letting anyone fuck you, you’re mine tonight.” 

He drops to his knees in front of you, grabbing your ankles, he slides his hand up to your thigh, teasing you by rubbing your clit over your panties. 

“Look at you, your panties are soaked,” he teases, smirking at the way you bite your lip to stop the moans from falling. He grabs the thin material, ripping it off and throwing it on the ground. 

Your eyes widen and you lean on your elbows, staring at him with a disapproving look on your face. The panties that you had bought a few days ago are now on the floor, ripped apart. 

“Steve–”

He presses a teasing kiss on your clit, smirking when you whine at his action. 

“You’re so fucking wet, honey. Is that all for me? I thought you hated me.” 

“God, fucking shut up and d–” He cuts you off, gripping your hips tighter, he licks up stripe up your pussy, moaning at your taste, “you shut up,” he mumbles before he buries his face in your cunt. Nudging his nose against your aching clit as he slips his tongue inside of you. 

“Oh my god,” you whimper as you slap your hand over your mouth, not wanting to give the satisfaction that he is making you moan. 

He grunts against you, sliding his hand up your body, he cups your boob and tugs at your nipple, earning a gasp from you. 

“Steve!” 

“Hand off your mouth, y/n,” he says, glaring at you with dark eyes, “let me hear your moans.” 

You roll your eyes and put your hand down. 

“Good girl.” He mumbles, eyes twinkling with mischief when he sees your flustered expression, he feels you clench around his fingers as he pushes two inside of you, “fuck, you’re tight, how am I gonna fit inside of you?” 

His words cause you to roll your eyes again, he will never stop being cocky. 

Moans and whimpers echo through the room when he begins to eat you out, switching his fingers with his tongue as he grabs your ass and holds you even tighter than before when you begin to squirm beneath him. 

You reach down, gripping his hair and pulling at it. 

“F-Fuck, Steve….” You whine. Tears blur your vision, your muscles tense and your back arches in pleasure, “d-don’t stop, Steve, please don’t stop,” you breathe as you feel his tongue on your clit again and his fingers back in your pussy. 

He moans against you, mumbling praises you cannot focus on. 

King Steve is eating your pussy like his life is depending on it and he moans like a slut while doing so. Palming himself as he tastes you on his tongue and listens to you falling apart for him. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper as you hold his hair tighter, “please, I’m so close.” 

“Yeah? You wanna cum for me? Do it, honey, do it.” 

You let go, pushing away all the thoughts that are telling you how wrong this is, you cum hard and he moans and continues to lick you, his eyes roll back, he enjoys every fucking second of this. 

“I haven’t even fucked you and your legs are already shaking.” 

You open your eyes to look at him, your chest rises up and down heavily, sweat coating your forehead already, you swallow, pushing yourself up, you get on your hands and knees and crawl towards him, watching as he takes his shirt off. You grab him by his belt and pull him in. 

You look up at him through hooded eyes, your hair is a mess, your skin is hot, you’re half naked, the only item left on you is your skimpy little skirt, he wants to fuck you while you are wearing it. 

“Can I suck your cock?” You ask, sliding your hand up his body, “I love sucking cock.” 

His eyes widen and he almost chokes on his spit, how can you look at him so innocently and speak such filthy words? 

“I-I… huh?” 

Nancy was different, sure she sucked him off but she didn’t really seem to be excited to do it, you though? You want it, for your own pleasure. 

“You love sucking cocks?” 

The look on his face almost makes you giggle, almost. 

“Mhmm.” 

“How many cocks have you sucked before?” He asks in curiosity. 

You unbuckle his belt slowly, eying all the moles on his skin, his chest hair, his toned arms, the growing mustache. Steve is hot. Has he always been this hot?  

“Take your pants off, Steve.” 

“Answer the question first and then I’ll take them off.” 

You roll your eyes. 

“Before Jonathan? Just two.” 

“Oh, who was it?” 

“Take your pants off and I’ll tell you.” 

He takes them off instantly, kicking his shoes off and throwing his pants somewhere. 

“Well the first guy… you don’t know him, I met him when I went to visit a friend in Chicago,” you shrug. 

He raises his brows, nodding, “the second guy?” 

A smirk grows on your face, you lick your lips and place your hand on his dick, rubbing your palm over his boxers. He shudders, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he moans. 

“Eddie Munson.” 

His eyes widen at your admission, lips parting in surprise, “w-what? Eddie Munson, th-the f–”

“Yes, Eddie Munson!” You snap, not letting him finish the sentence. “I sucked him off in the bathroom after lunch break, Jason Carver was being mean to him and I felt bad for him.” 

“So you cheered him up by sucking his dick?” He scoffs, rolling his eyes. If you didn’t know any better you’d say he's jealous. 

“Yeah, I mean who wouldn’t want to get his dick sucked by the head cheerleader?” You giggle, “he really liked it, came back for more.” 

“And then what?” 

You lean closer and kiss his hip bone and his stomach, trailing your lips up to his chest until you're kneeling on the bed in front of him, placing your hand on his chest and your lips on his neck, you kiss his neck the way he did to you earlier. 

“He fucked me in his van, in the bathroom at school, in the janitor’s closet, behind the bleachers, he fucked me hard.” 

Steve moans, he feels your cold piercing against his skin, his hand slide down to your waist. 

“I bet you can’t fuck me the way he did.” You murmur as you lean back down again, tugging at his boxers, you slide them down his legs and you gasp. His cock slaps against his stomach, pre cum leaking from his tip. 

“Oh.” Is all you manage to say as you stare at his cock. Suddenly you look intimidated, your cheeks heat up and your eyes widen, “t-that’s not gonna fit.” 

Steve chuckles darkly, gripping your jaw, he caresses your cheek, “oh, we’ll make it fit, honey.” 

“You still wanna suck it?” He asks.

You nod, whining when he puts his hand on your head, guiding you towards him. 

“It’s all yours.” 

You wrap your much smaller hand around his dick, stroking him a few times before you begin to tease him with your tongue, swirling it around the tip, you close your eyes and enjoy the sound of his moans.

“O-Oh fuck,” he murmurs. Gripping your hair tightly, he looks down at you, watching as you take more of him, his cock disappearing in your mouth, inch by inch until it hits the back of your throat. 

“Jesus fuck….” 

“Mhmmm,” you moan around him, hollowing your cheeks as you begin to suck him off. 

“Shit, stop…” He whines, tugging at your hair, “I’m not gonna last if you do that, I-I need to cum inside of you.” 

You don’t listen to him, instead you continue to suck him off eagerly, moaning and whimpering in pleasure, you arch your back, cupping his balls–

“Fuck!” He whimpers, basically shoving you off of him, “you little slut, I said I’m not gonna last.” 

You pout at him, “but I want to taste you too.” 

He stares at you bewildered. What the fuck? He never thought you would be like this but god, does he love it. 

“Later,” he says as he pushes you down and crawls on top of you, cupping your cheeks, his nose brushes against yours, “taste yourself instead,” he smirks before he kisses you again. 

The kiss is nothing near soft, it’s rough and needy. Your teeth clash, your tongues meet and you both moan and groan desperately. He pushes your skirt up higher, wrapping your legs around his waist, he takes his aching cock in his hand, sliding it between your slick folds, causing you both to moan. 

“Please, please… Fuck me, Steve. Make me feel something, please.” 

You beg and you plead, you arch your back and you pull him closer. He looks at you, truly looks at you for the first time. You’re beautiful, pretty, cute. You’re cute, even as you lay there looking up at him like a needy whore. He furrows his brows, watching the way your lips part, your pretty eyes staring into his, your soft hand touches his shoulder. 

What is he doing? 

What has he been doing all this time? 

“I got you, fuck, I got you.” 

He concentrates on you, on the look on your face as he pushes inside of you for the very first time. 

You whine and you bit your lip, almost hard enough to draw blood. You raise your head, looking down, you watch how his cock disappears in your pussy. Tears spring to your eyes as he stretches you open. 

“Poor baby, can’t take my big cock huh?” He teases with a smirk on his face that quickly falls again when you clench around him, causing him to stop moving, “f-fuck.” 

“Keep moving, Steve, please.”

He leans down, burying his face in your neck, he finally pushes all the way in. He says your name so filthily, it only makes you clench around him again. 

He curses at you as he begins to move, pushing himself back up again, he places both his hands beside you. 

“Pound my pussy, Steve, ruin me.” 

He smirks at your words and pulls out, looking down to see his glistening cock pushing back into your tight hole again. It makes his stomach flutter. 

“Such a good fucking pussy.” 

“Mhmm, you’re big, biggest cock I've ever had.” 

He only gives you a cocky grin in return. He knows he’s big. 

He grabs your boobs roughly and finally, he begins to fuck you like you wanted him too. 

“Ah– Steve, fuck… don’t stop!” 

He begins to pound your pussy in the most disrespectful way possible, squelching noises and your whines echo through the room. He watches your fucked out expression, he watches the way your pretty face scrunches up in pleasure, the way your screw your eyes shut. All you can do is moan and whimper and all he can do is stare at you in awe. 

He presses his hand on your lower stomach, pushing down on it, “you feel me, baby?” He asks, kissing your lips, “you feel my cock inside of you?” 

You nod, whimpering pathetically. 

You feel him, you feel him everywhere. His cock is splitting you open so perfectly, fucking you in a way only a man can. 

“Byers is a fucking idiot, stupid boy doesn’t know how to handle a woman,” he grunts as he thrusts into your roughly, “he’s fucking missing out. Shit baby, you’ve got the most perfect little pussy, so fucking tight and wet for me.” 

“S-Steve…” 

“I’m gonna fucking cum inside of you, gonna breed that little pussy and make you mine, gonna fill you up with my cum, over and over again until you’re f-fucking pregnant, gonna show those fuckers what they missed.” 

“P-Please,” you moan. 

“You’d like that huh? You’d love to get pregnant by the guy you hate?” 

“Mhmm,” you whine, you reach for his hands, dragging them up to your neck, “choke me, daddy.” 

His eyes widen and he fucking whimpers, his dick is throbbing inside of you and you know he is close. 

“God, you’re fucking filthy,” he grunts, wrapping his hands around your throat, “call me that again.” 

“Daddy.” 

He fucks you harder, rougher, faster and deeper. He wants you, he needs you. He is desperate for you. 

You put your hands around his wrists, looking up at him through the tears, “harder.” 

He gives you what you want, keeping his eyes locked with yours. You move your hips, meeting his thrusts. Tears stream down your face and you can no longer hold the sobs in. 

“Cum inside of me, Steve.” 

Your walls flutter around him and his hold on you tightens, “y-you really want me to cum inside of you–”

“Please, I need it!” 

His hips stutter and he can no longer hold back, he slams his lips against yours, moving one hand down, his fingers graze your sensitive nipples for a moment, he touches your stomach, your hips and then his fingertips find your clit, rubbing fast circles on it. He listens to the way your moans grow high pitched as you cum around him. 

“I’m cumming, f-fuck,” he murmurs against your lips as he spills inside of you, coating your walls with his seed. 

You both whimper in pleasure. He continues to thrust in and out of you slowly, for a moment and then he slumps against you, letting go of your throat and letting his face fall against your chest, his throbbing cock still inside of you. 

You both need a moment to calm down from this. 

Surprisingly, Steve doesn’t push off of you and pretend like nothing happened. He just continues to lay there, on your chest, tracing your skin with his rough hands. 

And you, you play with his hair, not a single thought of your ex boyfriend or your best friend. All you think about is Steve. How good he made you feel, how pretty he looked when he ate your pussy, how he kissed you, how he smells. 

“I think you almost fucked the hate I have for you out of me.” 

He snorts at you, “wow, very romantic.” 

“Oh we’re being romantic now?” 

He looks up at you, “I mean, I’m still inside of you and you are playing with my hair so yeah.” 

“Shut up,” you roll your eyes but are unable to fight the smile off your face. 

He grins, “no one ever called me daddy.” 

“Someone else will call you daddy in 9 months if you don’t get me the morning after pill.” 

You almost expect him to grow pale but instead he laughs nervously.

“Babies can’t talk, honey.” 

“Huh?” 

“You said in 9 months, are you telling me newborns can speak now?” 

“I was joking!” You mumble. 

“Mhmm, sure you were,” he chuckles. 

For a moment, the room is filled with silence. All you hear is the sound of the music from the party, the laughter and the loud voices. The smell of sex lingers in the room, the smell of him lingers on you. 

“You know what? I think we should’ve done that a long time ago,” Steve admits, “in fact I think we should do it again.” 

You smirk at him, “to get back at them or because you just wanna be called daddy again?” 

For a moment, his face grows serious and he finds himself staring at you longingly, “I just wanna do it again, not to get back at them, fuck them.” 

“Let’s do it then,” you whisper, “but take me home first.” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

A week ago, you would’ve laughed if someone told you that this would happen. That you would break up with your cheating boyfriend, lose a best friend you had known since childhood and fuck the man you hated half of your life. 

Yet here you are, letting Steve Harrington help you get dressed, letting him steal kisses, letting him slap your ass on the way out. 

You walked into his room hating him and you walked out of here, well, hating him a little less.

You both got betrayed by people you loved, deeply. You lost them but at least you had found each other.  

In a perfect world you would be together. 

Maybe this can be a perfect world after all.

-

tagging some faves @littledemondani @wroteclassicaly @corrodedcorpses @mysticmunson @aftermidnightwriting

[oh-no-its-bird]

Team 7 gets zapped into the warring states era but it's like, team 7 either mid or directly after wave-arc.

They're babies!! They're untrained little babies!!! None of them have gotten that good good character development yet!! Kakashi is still actively desperately wanting to not teach them!! (tho he may have just gotten his "ahh fuck. I actually have to teach them, huh." Moment)

Sasuke looks like a carbon copy of a younger Izuna and it's going to cause problems

Naruto thankfully doesn't look much like an Uzumaki, but his tendency to very loudly introduce himself is going to get him into trouble

Going w my usual flavor of "the Hatake are a very small but very famous clan known for being fucking insane", people are seeing Kakashi and going "oh god oh fuck what are one of THOSE guys doing here oh sage preserve us please don't eat me" as Kakashi just kinda stands there like 🧍‍♂️

Sakura is the only one safe from not being fucked up and over her clan, good for her!

-> back to the Hatake thing.

The kids still know virtually nothing about their sensei so they're learning all this stuff about his clan and believing every word of it, from the believable rumors to the insane.

Sakura, in a hushed, worried voice: "Sensei,, is it true ur clan eats people??"

Kakashi, who's father died before he could tell him almost anything about their clan and genuinely doesn't know but at this point is starting to get a little worried about it:

Kakashi, who also never passes up the opportunity to fuck with someone: "only stupid little students who ask stupid little questions <3"

Sakura and Sasuke: *worriedly look at a confused Naruto*

For convoluted reasons they run into the Hatake of the era and after introductions they look at the kids and are like,

"Oh!!! Ok, so this is your kid, right? :)" pointing at Sakura.

And Kakashi is like. ",,no."

"Ohhh, ok. So this one is your kid then?" *points at Naruto*

",,,,,,,,no."

They look at him confused then nod at Sasuke. "So then that one's your kid, right?"

"None of them are my children."

*visibly disapproving / disbelieving side eye*

One big difference between this and the team ro time travel one is how much less trustworthy Kakashi comes off to literally everyone who looks at him.

He's a trained adult shinobi, probable bloodline thief (with no way to prove his innocence), and he has 3 children from 3 different clans (2 of which are indirectly enemies bc the Uzumaki is a Senju ally) (1 of which might have a direct relation to the Uchiha main house) and comes from an infamously volatile "wild clan" from another country entirely (Iron country)

He is NOT getting out of this with talk no jutsu bullshit. He has a target on his back from day 1 and it will take a minor miracle to get even a single person hear him out

Anyways uhh—

Saying Tajima and Butsuma are still alive but due to die in some months (till team 7 accidentally interfere and somehow accidentally save Tajima, maybe also Butsuma but I'm more biased towards Tajima so I'm thinking just him actually)

Kakashi sees baby Kagami and feels like he's been hit by a truck bc he looks just like a miniature Shisui and he has hang-ups about his "suicide"

Half-Hatake Tobirama is catching HEAT from Kakashi's antics. Why does one of ur cousins have a sharingan. Where did he get those children. Do you know anything about this. Is it your duty to help hunt him down bc hes your blood. If not yours then it's definatley the Hatake's, call them immediately and tell them to clean up their mess.

Bloodline theft is like THE ultimate no-no for all shinobi, especially in this era. To the point that even ancient enemies will sometimes temporarily set aside grudges to kill bloodline theives. Kakashi is so fucked, someone get him out of there

Mmmm there are like still bits and pieces of thoughts floating around in my head for this but I can feel myself getting distracted and want to get back to art fight so I'll leave it here for now

[the-oblivious-writer]

Poison Ivy & Daisies

Clarisse La Rue x Demi-god!Reader

One-shot

Summary: Clarisse La Rue has been on your mind since the day you saw her, but because of your nervousness and her stand-offish attitude, you could never build up the courage to actually talk to her. At least, that was until you tripped on a rock

Warning(s): Swearing, mentions of r being clumsy, no pronouns used, & nervous/awkward!r

Notes: This is my first work for Clarisse. I'm still getting used to writing for her character, lemme know what you think

From the moment you stepped into camp, your mind has been plagued with thoughts of Clarisse La Rue—literally. The first time you saw her you thought you were looking at a princess. The person who was showing you around immediately warned you as soon as they noticed your longing stares.

You were then informed about Clairsse’s more… violent ways. You could care less. All you knew was that she was the most beautiful woman you have ever laid your eyes upon—but of course, you didn’t get the courage to talk to her until two months after you got to camp.

She was definitely stand-offish, that was evident. It wasn’t until you accidentally bumped into her that you finally spoke to her.

You were walking, not paying attention, when you suddenly tripped on a rock. You yelped as you tripped, but instead of meeting the ground like you expected, you bumped into someone. This person stumbled back a step before glaring at you, a glare so deadly you could feel it. 

Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest when you caught sight of the person. Clarisse fucking La Rue. Just your luck. You gulped as you looked back at her. You opened your mouth to say something, but the sound failed to come out. 

“Watch where you’re going,” the Ares kid seethed with her fists balled up.

“R–right. Sorry, I didn’t see you,” you nervously apologized.

“Don’t let it happen again, or else,” she threatened before walking off. You were too busy wiping dirt off of your shirt to see Clarisse looking back at you one more time as she walked away.

The incident continuously haunted you. You finally get a chance to talk to your crush, and that is how it happens? 

The next time you saw her face to face was the following week. You were practicing your sword fighting when suddenly somebody approached the dummy near yours. You didn’t think much of it as you continued to focus on your swinging and slashing. 

“That’s my dummy,” you heard from beside you. You look over to see it was Clarisse who you heard. Any bit of confidence you had before instantly vanished.

“Your dummy?”

“Did I stutter?”

“Um, no—no you didn’t. I just—I just didn’t know.”

“And your slashing is pathetic,” Clarisse added before pushing you to the side. “You’re supposed to cross then stab. Not the other way around.” She rolled her eyes before demonstrating for you. After she showed you, she looked over to you again. “Are you just going to stand there? Repeat what I did.” 

You weren’t sure how, but from that point on you started going to daily practices with Clarisse. You’re still a little confused on the specifics. One moment, she seems repulsed by you, but the next, she was training you. She never outwardly said it, but daily training with Clarisse automatically became apart of both her and your routines. You weren’t complaining. 

—

Months and months of training led to this moment; capture the flag. You were surprised when Clarisse told you she wanted you on her team, usually people wanted the opposite. It didn’t take much convincing to get Annabeth on board. You couldn’t blame her; it’s not that you were bad at fighting, you just had the tendency to be clumsy at the worst times. 

Your job was simple—stick by Clarisse’s side. You missed the looks Clarisse’s half-siblings gave her when she revealed this part of the plan, and the glare she sent their way. 

You and Clarisse were crouched behind a tree, waiting for the right moment to act. While Clarisse’s eyes were busy surveilling the area, you were too busy admiring her in her armor. How could you not? It wasn’t until you felt something hit your chest armor, that you were pulled out of your trance. 

You looked down, startled, and saw that it was Clarisse who hit your chest armor. “Stay focused.” She said as she continued to look around.

“Right. Focused.” You cleared your throat, eyes following to where the other girl was staring. “You look really nice by the way. The armor suits you,” you complimented. You had no idea where the spur of confidence came from. All you knew was that Clarisse was gorgeous, and you hoped she knew it too.

The compliment caught her off guard. She had no idea as to why you said what you did, frankly it confused her. But before she could utter a word, she saw her teammates signal to her. Guess her response would have to wait.

—

After the incident—that being Percy breaking Clarisse’s spear, and then him being claimed by one of the big three—everybody made sure to steer clear of Clarisse. The scream she let out was a reminder of why. It has been awhile since anybody has seen her that enraged. The only person to not follow this unspoken rule was you. You knew enough to know how important that spear is to her, so you could imagine how infuriated, and upset she was to see it rip in half. 

You went to knock on her cabin’s door, but pulled your hand away when you noticed it was already open. You lightly pushed it open more before walking inside. Everybody else was gone, and it seemed like Clarisse was too until you caught sight of her sitting on the edge of her bed with both halves of her spear on her lap. She didn’t need to look up to see that it was you who walked in. 

“What are you doing here?” She inquired, not looking up from her broken spear. 

“I just wanted to check on you,” you responded in a painfully soft tone. 

“I’m fine.” Her tone was dry and monotone. You carefully got closer before sitting down beside her, and to your dismay, she didn’t tell you to go away. You watched as her thumb brushed against her spear’s handle. 

“Do you wanna talk about–”

“I don’t need your pity, nor your comfort,” Clarisse interrupted. 

“Right, sorry,” you responded as you nodded your head. You suddenly remembered what was in your back pocket. “Oh, I uh,” you pulled out a daisy from your back pocket. “I saw it and I just thought of you,” you shrugged as you held it for her to see.

“A daisy.” The flower's stem was a slightly bent, the pedals were a mess, yet it was still beautiful.

“Yeah—if it’s stupid I could just–”

“No!” Clarisse said louder than intended. She cleared her throat, “It’s fine, I mean.” Butterflies erupted in her stomach as she watched a smile graze your face. 

“Here,” your smile never faltered as you handed it to her. As she went to take it from your hand, her hand touched yours. The action caused heat to rush to the other's face.

“Thank you.” She averted her gaze, looking down at the daisy you handed her. “It’s… nice, I guess,” she uttered as she continued to study the flower.

“You welcome,” you replied as you looked at her admirably. “Sorry if it’s a bit messed up. It’s been in my back pocket for, like, a day.”

“It’s perfect.” Her words catch you off guard, a warm familiar feeling rushes through you—the same feeling you get when you think of the woman. 

“Perfect flower for a perfect girl,” you said with such fondness in your voice. Now it was your turn to catch Clarisse off guard with your words. She pulls her eyes away from the daisy to look at you. Nobody has ever called her perfect before, and she knew you meant it. 

Her eyes flickered down to your lips, an action that doesn’t go unnoticed by you. It was just then that you realized how close your face was to hers. You both subconsciously begin to slowly lean in; “Can I kiss you?” You murmured. Instead of giving you a verbal response, her hand reaches up to softly cup your face before she leans in further. Her lips touches yours, sending electricity down your spine. Her lips were soft and welcoming as you kissed her back. 

But before the kiss could go any further, the cabin doors abruptly opened. Your lips tear away from hers as you both look over to see who was at the door. Of course, the person who happened to catch you and Clarisse kissing was an Aphrodite kid. You looked away with flushed cheeks while Clarisse tried as hard as she could to hide her embarrassed expression.

“What do you want?” She asked impatiently, her arms crossed.

With a smirk, the other camper responded. “I need Y/N’s help with something.” 

“Coming,” you managed to say. You got up to follow the camper, but not before looking back at Clarisse with a lovestruck expression. Clarisse could feel her heartbeat pick up as you made eye contact. When you left, she let out a sigh as she brushed back her hair.

No doubt this would be the talk of the camp by dinner. But for once, Clarisse didn’t mind.

-----------

A/N: Dior is actually so painfully gorgeous omg

[thegnomelord]

i took 357191027r6392936446322736432947372 psychic damage from the Makarov fic so you gotta write reader being rescued, healed, rehabilitated and loved by the task force. imagine them teaching reader to be their own person or letting him top without any commands or punishments. reader would be whining like a puppy who doesn't know what it's doing and would be so cute and fearful looking for reasurance when fucking into a task force member it would be so cute

lol idk dude. I was intending to do the fic as a one off to satisfy my puplay kink but it's now started to rot my brain even more lol. If I did continue it, I don't know if I'd want a happy ending or an angsty one (omfg imagine going through all the healing and rehab and experiencing love only for one word from Makarov to have you going back to him without question)

So tell me ya'll if you want me to turn the one shot into a longer fic lol, but for now here's some headcannons, ideas/ whatever and some porn

CW:NSFW, rough anal, Simon x reader with Price watching, dom/sub.

I can't imagine Hound would be happy about the 'rescue' considering everything and definitely would be resistant to rehab (Hound biting ppl and getting muzzled lol) that dogheaded asinine stubbornness coming to bite him in the ass. I headcannon Hound to have already been violent when he was under Price's command but Price kept Hound in check(if anyone's seen that young ghost and price comic with him being compared to a fighting dog it's kinda like that).

Makarov didn't need to do much and just played into the aggressive tendency to make Hound as they are now. The more violent the reaction hound would make, the more attention and praise he'd get. Also I'm just a sucker for dog like characters that are unhinged. That have no moral compass except for the one they're loyal to and will do whatever they ask.

So the task force members would have their hands full with Hound that's basically an aggressive fighting dog taken straight out of the pit. Also I'm still thinking whether the 141 would try to steer Hound away from the pup/dog like mentality Makarov conditioned them into, or if they would try to redirect it by calling Hound 'pup, boy' etc, instead of 'dog' like Makarov did.

Also the grief Price would feel to see the man he thought was dead turned into that would break his heart. I don't know if I'd want him to crack down on trying to rehab hound, or let a lot of things slide because he's scared of fucking you up more.

But also like rehabed fighting dogs turn out to be the sweetest animals and Hound just going from this 'I will bite your throat out' to just a gentle giant that's just happy to be able to touch or hug someone without needed permission. . . but he can still bite a throat out.

Also I 1000% swear that Makarov's a whore and would have trained reader to have enough stamina to fuck him all night long so the task force would get pounded into next year lol.

This is questionable cannon and non-confirmed lol you just got me brain rotting with the cute pup part and this came out. Rough and quick.

CW:NSFW

You feel like you will die; heat burns through your veins, sweat crawls down your skin and makes your hair stick to your forehead. Your hands grip Simon's bruised hips, holding them up for him as you pound into him. "Please-" You barely manage a small whimper, hiding your face in Simon's shoulder.

Simon's body quivers beneath you, limp and boneless, a wet hole for you to use. He's as sweaty as you, rough grunts and half-formed swears leaping from his lips every time your hips meet his ass in a bruising thrust. He's the closest to you in size, albeit still smaller, which makes it easier for him to take your size than the others. His insides are a sweltering heat around your cock, fucked into a loose sloppy hole that would gape if you pulled out, muscles still doing their best to squeeze you every time you nail his prostate.

It makes you feel ashamed how long it took you to find it. Mounting anyone but Makarov feels wrong, you're not sure how fast or how deep to go, this current rough pace making Simon the most vocal since you began. You feel him cum again, walls clenching tightly for the first time in a while as you force him into spurting what's left in his empty balls.

"Pl- sir, I- please, please," You can't help but hiccup, your nails leaving crescent bruises in his skin as you just pound him through his orgasm. It's his fourth one.

"What's wrong son?" Price's words barely get through the fog of need in your skull, more little whimpers splitting from your lips. "Don't you want to let go?" Tears blurry your vision, you can barely see his face from where he's resting Simon's head in his lap.

You can't cum. Your balls are so full they feel like they'll explode any second, cock throbbing to finally shoot your load but no matter how harshly you thrust into the willing hole beneath you. It feels like those times Makarov would put a cock ring on you, but worse, now it's your own body refusing to give you release. You haven't earned it.

"Please-" You repeat, because that's the best your mind can come up with, your hips stuttering as overstimulation stabs your nervous system like a knife. "I-please, fuck- I can't." You force out, forcing yourself to return to the punishing pace, your pelvis starting to go numb like it would a few hours into Makarov using you as a living dildo.

Price's fingers are disgustingly gentle as they curl into your sweaty hair, making you look up at him with soft pressure on your scalp. There's no bite to his touch, no pain, it's too good for a thing like you.

You'll thank what god exists that Price seemingly understands your problem, "Oh, son." You hate the hint of sorrow in his tone, you hate yourself more for how it makes your heart pound in your ears. "Here, let me" He whispers, his other hand sliding down to your naked neck.

The lack of any collars around your neck still disgusts you every waking moment, still makes you feel wrong, bad dog. His fingers wrap around your throat. They're too loose to be a proper collar, but it lets you breathe easier, his palm warm and big enough to completely cover the 'V.M' tattooed on your skin.

"Go on, that's a good boy." He whispers, "Cum for us." Price orders, kissing you so softly it disgusts you, like heaven wrapped in thorns.

You feel fresh tears spill down your tears as the dam not letting you cum is finally torn down. You hiccup your 'thank you sir's against his lips as you spill inside Simon. You can just distantly hear Simon groan as you dump your cum into his sloppy hole, muscles weakly fluttering around your cock as you roll your hips, fucking your cum deeper into him, just the act of cumming hurting almost as much as being denied, your balls aching with every spurt of cum.

You collapse on Simon, pushing the breath out of his lungs, as boneless as him. You don't struggle when Price rolls you to your side, your cock slipping out. Cum and lube gushes out from his hole like a firehose, flooding the small space between you two, his rim red and irritated, muscles weakly fluttering around nothing as they try to close.

You try to thank him but you slur your words into his skin, feeling the muscles in his abdomen quiver as you huddle closer and wrap your arms around him, your chest pressed flush to his back. You expect him to pull away, Makarov hated being vulnerable like this longer than he needed, but all Simon does is grunt and tip his head back so you can hide your face in the space between his shoulder and neck.

"You olright Simon?" Price asks, brushing a hand through your sweaty hair for a few seconds before you feel him softly wiping away your spend from you two.

"Fuck," Simon breathes out, voice scratchy and rough. "Are we sure Makarov's human?" His hand reaches up to scratch your scalp as you kiss one of the numerous bite marks you left on him. His skin is a canvass of black and blue bruises, your bite marks starting to clot across his body. "Shit, I can't feel my legs."

His words feel like a slap in the face, and you don't notice how you let out a small whimper, your hold tightening. This is it, you'll have to let him go soon, he'll order you to leave like Makarov always did.

"None of that son." Price's voice is calm in your ear, rubbing soothing circles between your shoulder blades. "You did good."

Simon hums, his fingers running lower to scruff you, "Mhm, yeah," His words are slurred, exhaustion weighing on both of you. "Best snog I've ever had." He grumbles, and you don't doubt he won't admit it in the morning, but for the moment, as you feel yourself slowly drift off to sleep, you let yourself enjoy the praise, the warmth of human touch, the care you can feel in both of them.

This is starting to feel nice.

[transform4u]

In the heart of bustling Austin, Texas, where the twang of southern drawls blends with the eclectic rhythm of city life, there was Chad Dalton, a buff wannabe bodybuilder, and personal trainer. At twenty-eight, he stood tall at 6’5” with a physique sculpted by years of relentless training and the grit of his rural upbringing. A former college football star turned gym trainer, Chad's presence in the fitness world was as commanding as his massive 269-pound frame.

Raised in a tight-knit southern community, Chad had brought with him not just his imposing stature but also an accent that marked him as unmistakably Texan. He wore it proudly, knowing well how it charmed the ladies or at least he believed it did. His alpha male demeanor and penchant for straight talk. The fact was Chad was a fucking douchebag.

Days were regimented with protein shakes and weightlifting sessions, a routine instilled by his former coach who had driven him to victory against their fiercest rivals. Now, Chad found himself in the role training others in the gym where his own legend grew. But mostly he liked to belittled the gay men in gym for their weak bodies. His impressive gains and bulging biceps made him a sight to behold, drawing admiration and envy alike from those around him.

And now here he was training people in this fancy gym instead of playing ball for some big-time team like everyone expected him to do after graduation. But screw them! Chad knew what was best for himself—and that meant staying single and focusing solely on improving himself physically so that no woman could resist his charm (or at least not for long).

Chad harbored views that were far from politically correct. His online rants against what he called "PC culture" and his dismissive remarks about "SJW chicks" were a stark contrast to the charismatic trainer who effortlessly charmed women at the gym.

One fateful evening, Chad found himself at a gay bar. It wasn’t the men he sought there, but rather the women—easy targets, he thought, like shooting fish in a barrel.

As Chad leaned casually against the bar, his eyes scanning the room for his next conquest, he spotted Samantha. With her blonde hair cascading over her shoulders and a figure that turned heads, she stood out even in the dimly lit bar. Determined to make an impression, Chad sauntered over with his characteristic confidence.

"Hey there, gorgeous," he drawled in his deep southern accent, flashing a grin that he knew had won over countless women before.

Samantha, however, gave him a skeptical look, her eyebrow raised as she sipped her cocktail. "Oh, hey," she replied coolly, clearly unimpressed. "You're quite the charmer, aren't you?"

Chad chuckled, undeterred by her lukewarm reception. "Can't help it when I see a beautiful lady like yourself," he replied, leaning in a bit closer.

She sighed, her annoyance thinly veiled. "Look, Chad, right?" Samantha asked, crossing her arms. "I'm not really into the whole 'gym bro' thing. All my friends here," she gestured subtly to the crowd around them, "they're all gay. I'm not sure you're their type."

Chad blinked, momentarily taken aback. "Oh, come on now, I'm just having a good time," he protested, trying to charm his way back into her good graces. "I'm sure we can find some common ground."

Samantha smirked, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "You know what, Chad? You seem like you could use another drink. Let me get you one," she said smoothly, turning to walk towards the bar.

Chad grinned broadly, thinking he was making progress. "Sure thing, sweetheart. I'll take whatever you're having," he called after her, watching as she ordered two drinks from the bartender.

Little did Chad know, Samantha was more than just a pretty face. As she whispered a quick incantation over one of the drinks, a sly smile played on her lips. And incantation that would turn Chad in the most stereotypical gay guy at the bar, at least what Chad would believe to be a stereotype. "By the power of three, by the might of me, transform this man into what he truly would hate to be. Make him gay as a rainbow flag flying high, with a love for glitter and all things shiny. Let his voice be like honeyed whispers in the night, his body lean and toned with just enough muscle tight. Give him confidence that knows no bounds, charm that turns heads around. May he become the stereotype he makes fun of so much, fill him with gay lust."

She slid both drinks across the bar towards Chad, who eagerly picked up the one she had touched.

"Here you go," Samantha said sweetly, handing him the glass.

Chad lifted the drink to his lips, taking a long sip and smacking his lips appreciatively. "Thanks, Samantha. So, tell me more about yourself," he prompted, trying to keep the conversation flowing.

But as the last drop of the enchanted drink slid down his throat, Chad began to feel a strange sensation. His muscles seemed to relax, and a warmth spread through his body. Confused, he looked around the bar, suddenly aware of the vibrant energy and the laughter of the patrons around him.

As Chad continued to sip his drink, unaware of Samantha's magical intervention, a strange sensation began to creep over him. At first, he felt a light-headedness, as if a fog had settled in his brain, making his thoughts feel like they were wrapped in cotton candy. Samantha watched with concealed amusement as Chad's voice started to rise in pitch, a puzzled look crossing his face.

"So, Samantha, I was saying," Chad began, his words coming out in a higher, more melodious tone than before, "what do you do for fun around here?"

Samantha nodded along, her smile widening as Chad's once towering presence seemed to shrink before her eyes. His shoulders relaxed, and his posture subtly changed, losing some of its imposing stature. Chad's height diminished gradually, inch by inch, until he stood at a more modest 5 foot 5, a far cry from his former 6 foot 5.

Chad blinked, feeling disoriented as he looked down at himself, noticing the sudden change in perspective. "Whoa," he muttered, his voice now distinctly softer and more delicate, was there a bit of a lisp even? "Something theels... different."

Samantha chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling mischievously as she observed the transformation taking place. "Looks like that drink had a bit of a kick, huh?" she teased lightly, handing Chad a napkin as he nearly stumbled against the bar, feeling off balance in his suddenly smaller frame.

Chad glanced around nervously, suddenly aware of the curious glances from other patrons in the bar. "What... what's happening to me?" he asked, his voice tinged with a mix of confusion and a hint of panic.

Samantha leaned in closer, her tone reassuring yet tinged with amusement. "Relax, Chad. It's just a little magic," she explained cryptically, watching as Chad's features softened, his muscles seeming to lose some of their bulk.

As the reality of his transformation settled in, Chad realized with growing alarm that he was not only physically shrinking but also beginning to adopt mannerisms that felt foreign to him. He clasped his hands together nervously, noticing the delicate shape of his fingers and the way his shoulders seemed to naturally curve inward.

"I... I feel different," Chad murmured, his voice now almost musical in its softness. "What did you do to me?"

Samantha chuckled again, a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. "Let's just say, you're about to see the world from a whole new perspective," she replied cryptically, gesturing for Chad to follow her as she led him towards the dance floor, where the rhythm of the music seemed to beckon him with a newfound allure.

As Chad tentatively took her hand and joined the dance, his movements were now graceful and fluid, a stark contrast to his former swaggering gait. Samantha watched with satisfaction, knowing that her playful spell had set in motion a transformation that would challenge Chad's perceptions of himself and those around him in ways he never expected.

As the music pulsed through the club, Chad's body moved with a new grace and ease that he had never experienced before. His movements were lithe and fluid, every step and sway feeling strangely natural yet unfamiliar. Gone were the bulky muscles honed from years of football practice and intense weightlifting sessions. Now, all he seemed to crave was the rhythmic beat of the dance floor.

With each passing moment, Chad felt lighter, as if a weight he hadn't realized he'd been carrying was lifting from his shoulders. The transformation was subtle at first, imperceptible to anyone but himself and Samantha, who watched with quiet amusement from the sidelines.

Chad's once prominent biceps and pecs began to shrink, the defined contours softening into a leaner, more slender form. His legs, once thick with muscle, now became toned and sleek, perfect for the agile movements of dancing. Abs that were once chiseled began to flatten slightly, a faint hint of definition remaining as his body reshaped itself.

But the most astonishing change was happening to Chad's face. Lines that had etched themselves from years of determined focus and occasional scowls smoothed away, replaced by a youthful glow that seemed to emanate from within. His features softened, his jawline becoming less angular, and his eyes sparkled with a newfound warmth and openness.

As his body continued to transform, Chad felt a curious sensation—a sensation of time rewinding. Memories of grueling football practices and weightlifting routines began to fade, replaced by a simpler desire for movement and joy. He felt a lightness of being, as if shedding layers of his former self to reveal a truer essence beneath.

And as the minutes passed, Chad's age seemed to rewind as well. From 27... to 26... to 25... and down, down, down until he settled at 21, the age where life had seemed full of possibilities and freedom, unburdened by the expectations he had once carried.

Samantha watched with satisfaction as Chad, now transformed into a young man with a twinkish charm that suited him far better than his former alpha persona, grinned back at her with a newfound radiance. His once cold demeanor had melted away, replaced by a warmth and kindness that drew people to him effortlessly.

"Wow," Chad murmured, running a hand through his newly tousled hair, feeling the lightness of his transformed body. "I... I feel different. Younger. Free."

Samantha nodded, her eyes gleaming with amusement and pride. "You look great," she said simply, knowing that Chad's journey was far from over but that this night had marked a profound shift in his life.

And as Chad embraced his new self, dancing under the lights with a joy and abandon he had never known, he realized that sometimes, a little magic was all it took to uncover who you were truly meant to be.

As Chad danced under the pulsing lights of the club, a transformation deeper than his physical appearance was taking hold. The music seemed to seep into his soul, stirring emotions and memories that felt simultaneously foreign and strangely familiar. With each beat, the memories of his rigorous gym routines, football practices, and the once cherished protein shakes faded like distant echoes.

He couldn't recall the details of his workouts or the names of his former teammates. The competitive drive that had fueled his athletic pursuits now seemed distant and irrelevant. Instead, a newfound appreciation for artistic expression blossomed within him, sparked by the melodies that enveloped him on the dance floor.

Chad's conservative edge softened and dissolved under the influence of the music. Ideas and beliefs he had staunchly defended began to shift, replaced by a liberal openness to new experiences and perspectives. He found himself drawn to conversations about social justice, equality, and inclusivity—topics that had never held his interest before.

As the night wore on, Chad's interests continued to evolve. He discovered a deep love for musical theatre and showtunes, melodies that spoke to emotions he had never fully explored. Memories of his college years resurfaced, reminding him of the acting classes he had once taken, the stage he had once tread upon with dreams of performing.

"I used to love acting," Chad murmured to Samantha between songs, his voice soft and introspective. "I remember now... I wanted to be an actor."

Samantha smiled knowingly, her eyes reflecting pride in Chad's newfound self-discovery. "You've always had a flair for drama," she teased gently, watching as Chad's face lit up with a childlike enthusiasm.

"Yeah," Chad nodded, a spark of excitement igniting in his eyes. "I'm going to be totes hungover for classes."

As Chad continued to dance, the rhythm of the music intertwined with his shifting identity. Memories of his former self, Chad the alpha gym bro, seemed to dissolve like mist in the vibrant lights of the club. Instead, a new persona emerged—a carefree and effervescent spirit that Chad had never known before.

"Sammmyyy!" Chad exclaimed with a giggle, his voice tinged with a playful lilt as he twirled around Samantha, who watched with a mixture of amusement and awe. "You're, like, my fag hag now, right? I totes don't wanna ditch you, but like, I'm here to snag the cutest boys tonight. It's Pride, for gosh sakes!"

Samantha laughed, her eyes twinkling with affection for the transformed Chad, now Gabriel—or Gabby, as everyone called him. She nodded along as Gabby spoke in cute little TikTok lingo, his speech peppered with heart emojis and playful hashtags.

As the night progressed, Gabby's transformation continued. His once sturdy frame morphed into something more lithe and youthful, clad in tight booty shorts and a crop top that accentuated his newly slender physique. His hair, once meticulously styled, now tumbled into a tousled mess of blonde locks that framed his youthful face.

Gone was the crude and brash language of Chad, replaced by the sweet and endearing chatter of a cute and somewhat vapid himbo. Gabby flitted from group to group, flashing bright smiles and striking poses for selfies, his newfound charm drawing admirers like moths to a flame.

"OMG, you guys are so cute!" Gabby squealed, snapping a series of selfies with a group of fellow partygoers. "Let's get this on TikTok, like, ASAP!"

Samantha watched with pride as Gabby embraced his new identity with unabashed enthusiasm. It was as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, allowing him to embrace the freedom and joy of being his true self—a persona that shimmered with positivity and a zest for life.

As a rising TikTok star, Gabby had amassed a following drawn to his infectious energy and charming personality. His videos were a mix of dance challenges, lip-sync performances, and heartfelt messages about self-love and acceptance. With a knack for engaging storytelling and an unapologetic love for all things fabulous, Gabby's feed was a vibrant reflection of his newfound identity.

In addition to his social media success, Gabby was pursuing a degree in Theatre, where his natural talent for performance shone brightly. He could captivate an audience with his singing voice, whether it was belting out a Broadway ballad or charming patrons in a cozy bar with his favorite showtune.

Gabby woke up the next morning, his body still sore from the night before. Hungover as fuck. He glanced over at the muscular otter sleeping soundly beside him, a smile tugging at his lips as he took in their intertwined limbs and sweat-dampened skin.

As the first light of morning filtered through the curtains, Gabby stirred, slowly becoming aware of the warm, solid presence beside him. His eyes fluttered open, and he turned his head to see a man lying next to him, the sheets barely covering his muscular, hairy chest. Gabby blinked, trying to piece together the events of the night before and struggling to recall the man's name.

Sensing Gabby's movement, the man beside him opened his eyes and smiled warmly. "Good morning. I'm Brad, by the way."

Gabby’s heart skipped a beat as he took in the sight of Brad. He had a rugged handsomeness that seemed almost sculpted—strong jawline, perfectly tousled dark hair, and a five o'clock shadow that gave him an effortlessly masculine appeal. His deep brown eyes were filled with an inviting warmth that made Gabby’s pulse quicken.

Brad’s body was a marvel to behold. His broad shoulders and expansive chest tapered down to a well-defined abdomen. Each muscle seemed to be meticulously chiseled, and his skin bore a healthy tan that spoke of time spent outdoors. The light dusting of hair on his chest added to his raw, primal allure.

Gabby couldn’t tear his eyes away from Brad’s pecs, which were impressive and inviting. His gaze lingered, tracing the lines of Brad’s muscles, and he felt a surge of desire. Brad noticed Gabby’s stare and grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He gave Gabby a slow, deliberate wink and began to flex, his muscles rippling under his skin.

Without warning, Brad pulled Gabby close, their bodies pressing together, and captured Gabby’s lips in a passionate kiss. The intensity of the kiss made Gabby’s head spin, and he melted into Brad’s embrace, his hands roaming over the hard planes of Brad’s back. Brad’s strong arms wrapped around him, holding him firmly yet tenderly.

Gabby’s mind raced, filled with the overwhelming attraction he felt for Brad. Every touch, every movement only heightened his desire. Brad’s kisses trailed from Gabby’s lips to his neck, making him shiver with anticipation.

"I can’t wait to go again," Brad murmured against Gabby’s skin, his voice a low, husky whisper that sent shivers down Gabby’s spine.

Gabby could hardly breathe, his heart pounding in his chest. The morning sun bathed them in a soft glow, and for a moment, the world outside ceased to exist.

Gabby couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement as he gazed upon Brad's muscular form. He was everything Gabby had ever fantasized about in a partner—strong, confident, and undeniably sexy.

"Wait," he said softly before leaning in for a passionate kiss that left Gabby reeling with desire. When they finally broke apart, Brad looked deep into Gabby's eyes and said simply: "I want you."

Without another word, they tumbled over and over in bed together. Hands roamed freely over each other's skin while lips locked hungrily together in fiery kisses that left both men breathless yet yearning for more. As Brad reached down to stroke his hard cock against Gabby's ass cheek teasingly through his briefs—a silent invitation accepted without hesitation—Gabby felt himself melting into pure bliss under this newfound lover's touch...

Gabby gasped as Brad's fingers traced a path down his spine, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through his body. He couldn't help but moan softly in response to the sensation, arching his back slightly to give Brad better access.

Brad chuckled softly against Gabby's neck before leaning in for another passionate kiss that left both men breathless yet yearning for more. As their tongues danced together teasingly within the confines of their mouths, Gabby felt himself growing increasingly horny and horny—a feeling only heightened when Brad finally pulled away with a wicked grin on his face.

"Ready?" he asked playfully before reaching over to grab a condom from the bedside table without waiting for an answer; clearly implying that he was going to take what he wanted regardless if Gabby was prepared or not…

Gabby nodded eagerly, his heart racing with anticipation as Brad rolled the condom onto his already-hard cock. Without further ado, he positioned himself behind Gabby and slowly pushed into him in one smooth motion.

Gabby let out a soft moan of pleasure at the sensation of being filled so completely by someone else for the first time; it was both exhilarating and terrifying all at once—a heady mix of emotions that left him reeling with desire for more. As Brad began to move within him slowly yet deliberately, Gabby couldn't help but wrap his arms around Brad's shoulders tightly while arching his back slightly off the bed in response to each thrust; their bodies becoming one fluid motion as they lost themselves entirely within this moment together…

Their passionate lovemaking continued well into the afternoon, fueled by an undeniable chemistry that seemed to ignite between them from the very beginning. As Brad's movements grew more urgent and primal with each passing minute, Gabby found himself matching his rhythm perfectly—lost in a haze of pleasure as he surrendered completely to this newfound connection between them.

Finally, after what felt like hours but could only have been minutes in reality, Brad let out a loud cry before collapsing onto Gabby's sweat-dampened skin. For his part, Gabby couldn't help realize he was now nothing but a horny, slutty twink and he loved it. Time to make a Grindr profile.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Charity

Hardersson x Daughter!Reader

Natalia Guijarro (OC) x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You and Talia discuss your teams

You had always been smart.

You don't think either of your mothers had predicted just how smart you would become but it was a welcome surprise for all three of you.

You knew more languages than some people could dream off. You thrived at school. You had a degree from Cambridge. You'd just completed your coaching license.

Which is how you ended up in this situation.

You flick your pencil over at Talia. "Fuck you!" You laugh," I wanted her!"

You had no idea who had cooked up such a strange idea but they did.

A charity match.

Two teams of twenty-two players.

Eleven active players.

Eleven retired players.

With the list of people signed up in your hands, you don't know why you and Talia were chosen as the coaches but you were, so the two of you were trying to decide which players you wanted and which players you didn't.

Talia sticks her tongue out at you. "Isabella would prefer to be on my team."

"Fine," You declare, eyes skimming down your list of current players. If Talia could choose her national teammate then you would too. "I want Marika."

Talia's face goes cloudy and you know you've just pinched a player that she wanted.

"We could swap," You tease and she rolls her eyes, throwing back your pencil.

"No chance!"

It's easy enough to secure your eleven active players. Most of them you know personally, some national teammates, some club teammates and a few of the girls you used to play with on the Denmark youth team.

You're happy with your choices. You can make it work.

The harder part was choosing your eleven retired players.

One name sticks out to you.

"You can have her," You say, reaching onto the table to grab a strawberry lace from the pile.

You're both on opposite ends of the sofa, legs stretched out as you go through the lists.

Talia knows exactly who you're talking about.

"No," She says with a sweet smile that's incredibly fake," You can have her, really."

You click your tongue. "No, I insist. It's a bonding opportunity. Take her."

"No, really. I can't take this opportunity away from you. I-"

"It's fine. I'm taking Momma."

"We didn't discuss that!"

"I get Momma. You get Morsa. There. Discussion done."

Maybe it's a little bit of sabotage on your part, saddling Morsa and Talia on the same team but you never said you would go easy on her.

"She was a world class centreback," You tease and Talia sighs.

"You're right," She says," I'm sure she'll have no problems keeping Pernille quiet." Her finger goes down the list. "I want Aitana."

You grin. "You just don't want Alexia. What? Think you can't boss her around like she does you?"

"That woman is scary," Talia says," I can admit that. I don't need her judging my tactics."

You shiver a little. You hadn't thought of that.

"Do you want Zećira?"

You freeze. You hadn't realised Zećira was on the list until you'd gotten to the very bottom.

Zećira had been your idol for years. You'd just adored her. She was the reason you were a keeper in the first place.

When you were younger, all you wanted to do was grow up quick enough so you could play with her.

"No," You say," You can have her."

Talia frowns. "Are you sure?"

You nod. "Yes. You can have her."

Zećira is your idol and always will be.

When you were younger, you wanted to be just like her. Now, you want to be better than her.

You'll never play against Zećira yourself but this is the closest you'll ever get to going against her.

"Thanks," Talia says," You can have Patri, if you want."

"I'll take her."

The keys jingle as they're pressed into your front door and Prins comes barrelling in, leaping up onto the sofa to give you kisses.

Pernille and Magda slip in after him.

"Everything sorted out?" Pernille asks as she takes in the papers scattered around.

"Done," Talia confirms," Squads are announced in a few days and then a one week training camp before the match."

Pernille smiles. "I look forward to seeing who's coaching me."

"Us," Magda cuts in," Coaching us."

You and Talia exchange looks.

"You separated us?"

You shrug. "It's football, Morsa," You tease," I'm sure you understand."

Magda's mouth hangs open for a moment and Kung gets annoyed when he notices she's stopped stroking his ears.

He thumps his foot angrily on the floor, the only noise over Magda's obvious shock.

Her eyes dart between you and Talia.

"No," She says as you both laugh," You're kidding."

"It's a good bonding opportunity." You blow her a kiss. "Didn't you tell me you wanted to see what Talia's like as a coach?"

"I...She...You..."

"Close your mouth, Magda," Pernille laughs," You'll catch flies."

[queen-of-reptiles]

𝙾𝙷 𝙵𝚄𝙲𝙺

description: lauren is fine, she is completely fine. she is definitely not dating sam kerr's younger sister. and sam kerr definitely hasn't just walked into y/n's flat with her spare key. lauren is completely fine

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lauren james x kerr!reader

disclaimer: this is all fiction remember that and have fun ;)

warnings: idk where to begin, smutttt - cunnilingus, thigh riding, fingering, slight breath play, choking, marking, fluff, swearing, cute sisterly relationships

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SMUT

MINORS DNI

18+ (At start and at end.)

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y/n's head span as she gasped, hand reaching down to clasp with Lauren's as the woman grunted into her, tongue darting in and out of y/n, nose brushing her clit as she spasmed.

"Ah, Lauren. Close." y/n gasped, hand gripping Lauren's tighter as her breathing sped up, back arching as Lauren's tongue did nothing to slow down.

Lauren moved her head, pushing her nose harsher against y/n's clit which caused a moan to escape her lips as she tensed, her stomach spasming.

"Come on." Lauren said gruffly, her tongue going back to work as y/n finally came, a cry of relief leaving from her lips as she does so.

Lauren's tongue does not completely leave y/n, instead using lazy strokes to calm the girl down from her orgasm, only once Lauren felt as if she had tasted her girlfriend enough did she come up for air.

Lauren pushed upwards, arms flexing as she came to lie next to y/n once again, leaning down to press a long kiss to her lips, her tongue sweeping through y/n's mouth.

"Taste yourself." Lauren all but grunted into her mouth. "Taste what I did to you." She continued, y/n's eyes rolled into the back of her head at the words.

The two pulled away, a lazy grin on Lauren's face at the red cheeks of y/n as she pecks her lips once more, smirking at how flustered the Australian was.

"Hmm, that's a way to wake up in the morning." y/n smiles, leaning into Lauren's shoulder who smiles and wraps an arm around her girlfriend.

"Wake you up like that anytime." Lauren shrugs and y/n grins liking the sound of it.

Just as Lauren goes to say something there is the sound of the front door opening and the two tense, both knowing that other than Lauren only one other person had a key.

"Squirt?" Sam calls out and the two spring into action.

"One sec Sammy!" y/n calls, Lauren rushing and grabbing her clothes, throwing y/n her own.

"Oh fuck." Lauren whispers.

"Oh fuck." y/n agrees quietly.

Sam Kerr, Australia's sweetheart, best striker in potentially the WSL and a ground-breaking personality in the world of Women's Football and sport as a whole.

Sam Kerr. Also known as Lauren and y/n's team-mate, mentor and y/n's older sister.

Lauren sent y/n a wide eyed look, both of them as worried and panicked at the other as Lauren slid into y/n's ensuite, y/n tugging on her joggers as she darted out of her room and shuts the door.

"Sammy!" y/n grins racing at her sister who hugs her. "What are you doing here?" y/n asks and Sam shrugs.

"Thought we could go get some breakfast." Sam says and y/n nods, knowing they had late training today.

"Of course, let me just shower." y/n smiles and Sam pauses, knowing her sister was a natural early riser.

"You slept in?" Sam asks.

"Yeah, late night, stayed up binging doctor who." y/n lies easily and Sam chuckles, rolling her eyes.

"You and that fucking show." Sam snorts and y/n lets out a small fake laugh as she moves back toward her bedroom.

y/n enters and Lauren is lent against the wall, scrolling through Instagram as y/n grabs her and drags her into the bathroom. Lauren smirks slightly as she quickly strips herself of her joggers.

y/n finally rids herself of her clothes, quickly ridding Lauren of her own as she drags her into the shower and turns it on, looking toward the bathroom door which she quickly makes sure is locked.

With the shower on and making noise y/n finally feels safe enough to let out a relieved breath as she knows Sam will have turned her X-box on to play a few FIFA games knowing her younger sister took ages to shower.

"Careful baby, your sister is in the other room." Lauren smirks teasingly and y/n glares at her.

"You ain't getting shit James." y/n warns as she washes herself clean.

"Are you sure?" Lauren asks lowly, hand squeezing at y/n's waist as she slides it down, her dull nails scraping at her hip. y/n lets out a stuttered gasp, the Australian naturally tipping her head back onto Lauren's broad shoulder.

Lauren can't help but let out a small chuckle at the power she knew she held over y/n, leaning down to press a series of light kisses down y/n's painfully unmarked neck.

Lauren's teeth pull at the skin under y/n's collarbone, both of her hands gripping at y/n's hips now, tilting her pelvis back into her as she grids lightly against her.

"Lauren." y/n warns breathily.

"What baby?" Lauren asks, grateful she had kept her braids in as she was now stood under the stream of water which would have been a pain to dry her hair from.

"Squirt?" Sam asks, the door handle coming down but the lock doing its job and stopping her entering.

"Just coming!" y/n calls quickly as she turns off the shower and steps out.

The girl wraps her hair in a towel, glaring at Lauren who was stood smugly against the shower door, eyes raking down y/n's dripping thighs which were scattered with marks.

"Since when do you lock the bathroom door?" Sam asks from the other side.

"Must have done it on reflex." y/n calls out. Not bothering too look in the mirror as she quickly moisturises her face. "I'll text you when we're gone." y/n whispers to Lauren, before pressing a peck to the woman's lips.

y/n then quickly slides from the bathroom and into her room, turning off the light as she wraps her towel around her. She could hear the FIFA game coming from the living room and rolls her eyes as she changes quickly.

y/n tugs on a top, pulling her jacket over the top of it and then grabs her bag and phone, cursing herself at the text Sam had sent her an hour ago warning her she was going to appear.

y/n then leaves her bedroom, smiling at Sam as she pulls her socks and then trainers on. Sam finishes her game and switches the TV off as y/n snorts.

"You only come here to use my games." y/n teases as Sam grabs her car keys.

"Shut up." Sam snorts as they get to the front door. y/n looks down, eyes widening at Lauren's trainers which were on the rack and she positions herself in front of them, hoping Sam hasn't noticed.

y/n follows her sister out, locking the door knowing full well Lauren would use her key once she left for training. y/n hops into Sam's car and her heart finally slows down as they pull away from her home.

y/n switches on her phone, instantly connecting to Sam's car and blaring some music out which makes Sam groan mockingly, y/n rolls her eyes and sticks her tongue out.

"Shut up." y/n snorts.

"No you." Sam counters.

"No you." y/n says back and Sam rolls her eyes.

"Annoying dickhead." Sam says and y/n chuckles as they pull up to their usual breakfast place. y/n sends a quick text to Lauren.

to lauren <3: All clear xx

from lauren: I'll see you at training x

y/n doesn't reply, knowing if she does Sam will get suspicious on who she is talking too, so she shuts her phone and follows Sam out of the car and into the cafe.

"Isn't that LJ's top?" Sam asks as y/n takes her jacket off. If y/n's heart had stopped, she wouldn't have been shocked, because that is what it felt like.

"Oh yeah, I borrowed it a few weeks ago and she said I could keep it." y/n shrugs easily and Sam's eyebrows furrow.

"I could have sworn I saw her in it the other day." She says before shrugging and looking at the menu.

"I don't know why you bother looking. You always get the same thing." y/n teases, trying to get the topic to move on.

"Shut it squirt." Sam snorts before proceeding to order the same thing with their usual waitress.

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y/n just posted on her story x2

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y/n turned up at training a lot calmer than she had been that morning. Throughout her breakfast with Sam panic was flooding her and guilt was creeping into her heart.

What she and Lauren had started was good, great even for them both, Lauren was calmer, y/n was happier, and no one knew that it was the other making them so.

But y/n and her sister had always been close, y/n had always wanted to be like Sam and while the midfielder had slightly taken a different football route, she had ended in the same place, repping Chelsea blue.

Lauren and y/n were still relatively new, only 4 almost 5 months in to being official having started seeing each other just before the beginning of the World Cup.

No one on social media suspected anything, none of their teammates seemed to notice, so they had just kept quiet when they returned and continued falling in love.

And y/n was sure that was what was happening. The 21-year-old was sure she was falling in love, if not in love with Lauren. She had never felt so seen, so understood by someone.

With Lauren she wasn't Sam Kerr's sister, she wasn't the future of Australia. She was just y/n, and it made her feel so special being looked at by Lauren.

The woman could tell if she was angry, upset, happy or nervous with a single glance, and she could calm it with nothing but a look, a glancing touch.

y/n had never been powerless, she was filled with attitude and delight, but she had never fell apart for someone as easily as she had for Lauren, she had never let anyone see her or understand her the way Lauren always had.

Training had started well, the sister duo pairing up for the pre-match games and then the group of players sunk into their usual before lunch match.

y/n was running down the wing, looking toward Erin who was trailing with her, Lauren tracked back, following her girlfriend as she tried to tackle, y/n turned, dragging the ball with her.

But Lauren knew her, knew her tricks and instead of sliding past bounced off her toes and followed left which made y/n sigh. She passed out to Erin, Lauren sending her a smirk.

y/n followed Erin down, trying to get past Lauren who manages to intercept Erin's cross out for a corner. The two teams lined up as Emma called out a warning saying this would be the last kick of the game.

y/n stood strong, her sister grinning at her due to the fact her team was currently 1 goal above Erin's and went to mark her sister, however Lauren had already covered her, easily slotting behind her girlfriend.

Sam furrows her brows for a second but then shrugs and goes to mark Johanna instead. Lauren's hand brushes y/n's back and the woman pushes her elbow back, rolling her shoulders as she watches the ball fly in.

y/n races forward, Lauren right behind her as she jumps and her head fires the ball into the corner. y/n slowly comes down, the bodies around her pushing her off balance.

Lauren quickly wraps her arms around her y/n, stabling her as she comes down by pulling y/n tight to her chest as y/n's feet finally settle on the floor.

y/n sighs out in relief, relaxing back into Lauren's chest in relief as she rests her head onto Lauren's shoulder, the two looking so natural that Millie does a double take.

"Nice catch LJ!" Emma calls out as lunch is called.

"She was a fairy." Millie teases, y/n laugh as she grins at Lauren in thanks who squeezes her waist briefly before y/n runs at Millie, jumping onto her back.

"y/n!" Emma calls waving the girl over.

"Oooh someone's in trouble." Millie teases as she drops y/n next to Emma.

"Shove off Bright." y/n laughs pushing her captain away who gasps mockingly.

"I'll have you benched for that!" Millie gasps dramatically.

"No you bloody won't." Emma warns her, before everyone trudges away and y/n follows Emma to her office where the woman sits her down. "I'll let you go to lunch in a second." Emma promises.

"It's okay." y/n promises her manager who sits on the edge of her desk.

"I just wanted to ask." Emma begins, handing y/n a water bottle she had picked up. "Does Sam know?" She asks as y/n takes a sip, instantly choking on the water in shock.

"Holy shit." y/n gasps out, swallowing her mouthful of water. "Know what?" y/n asks as Emma sends her a dry look.

"That there is something clearly going on between you and Lauren." Emma says and y/n sighs.

"Is it that obvious?" y/n asks.

"I'll take that as a no." Emma sighs. "But it isn't obvious, I just know you both too well." Emma explains and y/n sighs.

"I swear boss, I'll tell her, it won't be a big deal." y/n promises Emma who sighs and runs a hand over her face.

"If that was true, you would have done so already." Emma warns her.

y/n shoulders sink. If she was honest, she had no clue how Sam would react, she could be happy, she could be mad, she could be shocked, hurt the list was endless.

"Why haven't you told anyone?" Emma can't help but ask and y/n sighs, knowing full well someone did know.

"Technically, Lucy Bronze knows." y/n says and Emma hums, knowing y/n and Lucy were close as y/n had played at Lyon for a season and a half before making her jump to Chelsea last year.

y/n had stayed with Lucy during that time, having been taken under the defender's wing who really helped her in the time away from her older sister.

"World cup?" Emma guesses and y/n nods.

"We had kind of began just before and continued during the world cup. Lucy walked into Lauren's room one night when we actually near the same place." y/n explains.

"And the reason?" She asks.

"I see how the media just tears everyone apart. Relationships, confidence, I mean I missed that shot a few weeks back and I just got annihilated for it." y/n continues.

"But you cannot let that get to you." Emma tries and y/n sighs.

"I know, but it does Emma." y/n says angrily. "And I just know, the second anything comes out about Lauren and I..." y/n sighs trailing off.

"You have to tell the team." Emma states and y/n throws her arms up in annoyance.

"Why?" She asks.

"Because I will not risk the chemistry I have created. You can't do it, I'll bench you." Emma warns.

"Emma!" y/n calls but the woman folds her arms. "I'm scared." y/n then sighs, folding her head in your hands.

"The girl who played for Australia at 16, scored the winning goal for the champions league at 17, is scared?" Emma asks and y/n nods.

"Terrified. All the time." y/n sighs and Emma's face drops her cold mask.

"Oh kid." Emma sighs and y/n looks up at her, heart in her throat. "Do you need to talk to someone?" She asks and y/n sighs.

"I don't know." y/n admits and Emma then sighs again.

"You've got until Friday to talk to Sam. We'll forget about the rest for now, eh?" She asks y/n who nods, trying to swallow the butterflies climbing her throat.

"Okay." y/n nods. Emma claps her on the shoulder and nods to the door and y/n nods. "Cheers boss." y/n says, and they both know it was meant deeper than just one way.

"Go get some lunch." Emma orders and y/n nods, walking into the lunch room where Sam already had a plate for her, just deepening the bite of guilt.

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y/n just posted on her story x3

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y/n sat with Lauren, the two comfortably pressed together on y/n's sofa as they watched Match of the Day, both fed and showered after their day of training before the Brighton game tomorrow.

y/n had been quiet, Lauren had noticed it, her eyes were glazed over, as if she wasn't really in the moment and so Lauren pressed a kiss to her head.

"What's wrong?" Lauren asked softly.

"Emma knows." y/n says simply, her voice void of emotion as she expected Lauren to yell, to freak out.

"Okay." Lauren says calmly and y/n pauses, her stomach knotting in shock.

"What?" She asks.

"Okay." Lauren repeats calmly. "What do you want to do?" She then asks.

"We need to tell Sam." y/n says, again expecting Lauren to end it, but her grip just tightens.

"It is probably about time." Lauren agrees calmly and y/n sits up and turns to look at her.

"You're not mad? You're not going to yell? Leave?" y/n asks, her voice quiet and shocked. Lauren smiles softly, pecking y/n's nose as she sits up also, bringing the girl onto her lap.

"No baby. I'm not going to leave." Lauren promises and y/n moves her legs so she was straddling Lauren's lap.

"Why?" She asks softly and Lauren sighs.

"We've been together since May in my brain, and even if not, we made it official in September. It's now January, I think that's enough time." Lauren states and y/n smiles softly.

"Okay." y/n says with a breath of happiness.

Lauren chuckles and her hands cup y/n's jaw, bringing her in for a deep kiss which makes y/n's head spin as their lips collide, tongues infecting each other's mouths.

"I think you should speak to someone." Lauren says as they pull away. "About your anxiety, your overthinking." Lauren continues and y/n sighs.

"I know." She says softly and Lauren nods before diving back in for another kiss, ever since their first one she had found the little Australian completely addictive.

Lauren's hands chased y/n's body, running down her back, up her thighs, squeezing her waist before eventually stopping at her arse, squeezing at the skin and pushing her closer.

y/n gasped as Lauren's lips traced a pattern down her neck, the woman quickly throwing y/n's top over her heard and somewhere onto the sofa.

Lauren took y/n's nipple into her mouth, sucking harshly as y/n's back arched and Lauren's name fell from her lips in a breathy plead to continue the pleasure.

Lauren continued her actions, switching to the other breast, leaving the first nipple, red hard and painfully sucked as y/n slowly started to grind against Lauren.

The woman moved y/n to straddle her thigh so the pressure was more pleasing for the Australian and bit at y/n's nipple when she moaned at the move.

"Turn around and take these off." Lauren ordered quickly, snapping the waistband of y/n's joggers.

The woman nodded and jumped up, stripping quickly, leaving her underwear on as she lowers back onto Lauren's thigh backwards.

Lauren's hands landed on her hips, pushing y/n into a grind, at the feel y/n moaned and fell forward, hands landing on Lauren's knee to stabilise herself and she continued to ride Lauren's thigh.

Lauren stretched back, hands coming to rest behind her head as she stared at y/n's ass, thong pulling over her thigh as the wetness of y/n's arousal spilled through it.

"That's it, chase it baby." Lauren ordered lowly, hand coming to squeeze at y/n's cheek as her moans became breathier, desperately trying to push herself over that edge.

"Lauren, please." y/n begged, her whine making Lauren chuckle.

The woman pulled y/n back to her chest, one hand coming to squeeze her throat and keep her against her chest as the other held her waist stopping her grinding.

"Can't even cum without me anymore, huh?" Lauren asks, y/n whining in response. "What do you want baby? Huh?" Lauren asks.

y/n can't answer, too wound up and Lauren's hand slides from her waist and dips underneath the band of her underwear, fingers sliding through her slick folds.

"Need me here?" Lauren asks smugly when y/n jolts.

Suddenly Lauren's fingers rub at y/n's clit quickly, pushing the woman over an unexpected orgasm which Lauren continues rubbing her through it.

Only when y/n is writhing in her hold, begging for a moment does Lauren give y/n a break, her fingers sliding up her toned stomach and pushing her slick past her lips and into y/n's mouth.

Lauren abruptly stands up, y/n letting out a shocked shout as Lauren carried her to the bedroom and throws her against the bed, the girl bouncing.

"Weeee." y/n says and Lauren chuckles as she strips and slides the strap on, making sure it was harnessed properly before kneeling on the bed.

y/n leans up, pressing a kiss to Lauren's cheek before she spins them, pushing Lauren to sit against the headboard.

"Wanna ride you." y/n mutters, Lauren nodding her head dumbly as she watched y/n slowly lower herself onto the cock.

Lauren groaned out in relief, y/n's hands resting against the harness to make the pull on Lauren's clit feel better as she slowly pushed herself up and back down.

Lauren hands grabbed at her waist, pulling her closer and connected their mouths in a heated and deep kiss, moans tangling as y/n continued to push herself up and down on the cock.

As the knot built in y/n's stomach once more, she rocked while feeling full of Lauren's cock, the rocking pushing Lauren to the edge and her hand came to slap at y/n's ass.

The two gasped, cumming together as their mouths continued blending their noises together while they slowly came down, eventually parting as the room filled with slow pants and deep breaths.

y/n slowly sat off the cock, gasping slightly at the feel of her walls clenching around nothing as she laid back next to Lauren who un-clipped the harness from herself.

y/n couldn't help but smile into Lauren's bare shoulder as the two stayed tangled together in a mess of sweaty sheets. Lauren's lips were against her forehead as they caught their breath.

"I think I'm in love with you." y/n says softly and Lauren chuckles.

"I think I'm in love with you too." Lauren promises her and y/n hums.

"Oh." She says, not really expecting to hear it back. "That's good." y/n says softly. "That is really good." y/n repeats and Lauren chuckles.

"Yeah baby. It is." Lauren promises and they both smile into each other's skin.

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END of part one