#I have been waiting to play the rest of the games until I finish this Dragon Age Origins animation. fucking. banana balls.

[pinkyqil]

Braids and shades // salma paralluelo x r

Summary : you and salma have a beach day while you also help her take out her braids in the sunny shades ⛱

Warning : slight cursing

A/n : cheers to more annoying gf salma I honestly love writing these especially when it beach theme like who doesn't love salma and beaches together so here's another one I'm also doing a 3 player prompt so feel free to send in a player, prompt and location like this one anyway hope y'all enjoy this small blurb and as always feedbacks are appreciated 💗

PART1

Today was on of those days where yours and salma off days macht.

meaning you both could spend the whole day together without one of you having a busy schedule and not begin able to make it to any of your plans or having to leave mid-date. today would be very different as you both had a three days off that ended up matching both your schedule.

Excitement filled both you and salma has you both already planned what to do together.

a divider date where one person planes the beginning while the other planes the rest. You've already done your part in planning the first half which consisted of surprising salma with breakfast in bed which was rare as she always had to be up bright and early for training making it impossible. But today she slept over her alarm making it easy for for you except the part you had to get out of her giant grip without her noticing which happened successfully.

After that you both got ready for your massage appointment that you booked knowing well she needed it having complained about random cramps that felt after heavy training or game days.

The next few hours had been filled with shopping and sneaky kisses, like helping salma look for some pants that she's been wanting to get. and some Xbox games she wanted to get so she and vicky could play with it when she comes over, getting sweet treats and some makeup and other products you both needed around your shared apartment.

that would be the your part of the divider date that you planned. now it was salma trun for the other half of the date.

"So where are we going that you got our suitcases packed with three different four different bikini placed on our bed". you asked her ?.

"You just gotta wait til we arrive there".she told you before leaving a kiss on your lips.

grabbing your hand leading you into the car before placing the location onto GPS so you know where too drive. Salma was passenger princess as she doesn't know how to drive and hasn't gotten her drivers license.this woman would rather run to her destination than drive which you found funny and would tease her about it.

You've almost arrived at the place the GPS was leading you into until you where able to see somewhat of a beachy report.

"You did not just book us to one of these beach resort did you". you asked her with a smile on your face

"I may have known that I'll days off would macht and decided to book here I know how the beach is one your favorite places and the offer was too good to miss". she told you

This would be one of salma best qualities that you loved about her when she does stuff for you without you knowing or asking.

Once you both managed to get everything done and head to the beach.salam had asked if you could help her take out her braids while you both chill out for the rest of the day which you obliged to do.

You both found a spot under the beautiful beach shades and decided to lay there and that when you started getting rid of her braids one by one which took time as you we're used to taking out yours and hers time to time. you'd finally finish taking out her braids and one thing you admire about salma was when her curly where out it made her look like some type of goddess especially with the hight and small waist she has.

you loved this woman down bad and would do anything for her.

this day had to be the best day ever enjoy half the day with the love of your life while finishing it off a the beach with a beautiful sunset.

And it couldn't have been done without a small makeout session with the sunset right behind you both.

#salma paralluelo #salma paralluelo imagines #salma x reader #salma paralluelo x reader #fc barca femeni #barcelona femeni #barcelona women #barca women #barca femeni #espwnt x reader #espwnt imagine #espwnt #woso fic #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso imagines #fcb femení #fcbfemeni x reader #woso #woso community #woso fluff #woso one shot #woso blurbs #barcelona femeni x reader #barca femini x reader #barca femini #woso appreciation #woso drama #pinkyqilfic

[pucksandpower]

Smile! You’re on Camera

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: in which your inability to stay away from Lando means that viewers of your boyfriend’s stream get a free show

Warnings: 18+ content, accidental exhibitionism

You quietly open the door to Lando’s gaming room, the glare of his monitors momentarily blinding you as you step inside. Lando doesn’t notice you at first, his eyes glued to the screen as his fingers fly over his keyboard, immersed in an intense game of Fortnite.

“Hey babe,” you say softly, not wanting to startle him mid-game.

Lando jumps a bit in his seat, glancing over his shoulder to see you standing there, your hair slightly disheveled from sleep.

“Oh hey, bunny,” Lando says, flashing you a quick smile before turning back to his game. “Just give me a few more minutes to finish this round.”

You nod understandingly and walk over to him, leaning down to give him a kiss on the cheek. As you pull away, you spot the livestream chat flying by on the other monitor, viewers eagerly commenting about getting a glimpse of Lando’s girlfriend.

“You’re streaming right now?” You ask with amusement.

“Yeah, been going for a couple hours,” Lando replies, focused on the game. “I woke up early and didn’t want to wake you by coming back to bed.”

You settle down on the arm of his chair, looping one arm loosely around his shoulders as you watch him play.

You nuzzle into his neck, lips pursed to place featherlight kisses along his jawline. The chair tilts back slightly from your shift in position. Lando sucks in a sharp breath, fingers fumbling over the keys. On screen, his character takes a hit.

Lando just shakes his head, trying to concentrate as he fights with an opponent. You continue playing with his hair, leaning in further until your face is right next to his.

“Y/N ...” Lando says in a warning tone, though you hear the smile in his voice.

“Hmm?” You murmur, sucking your mark above his collarbone as your hand drifts down to his chest.

“I’m trying to win here,” Lando protests half-heartedly.

“Mmhmm ...” you hum against his skin, nipping lightly at his jaw as your fingers deftly undo the top buttons of his shirt.

“I’m kind of in the middle of something,” Lando protests half-heartedly. His adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.

You glance pointedly at the screen. “It can wait.”

Lando looks back at you, eyes darkening. For a moment you think he’ll give in. But then he turns back to the game, hand coming up to adjust his headset.

“Just hang on a minute, bunny. I’m almost done.”

You huff, sitting back. The negligee rides up your thighs. Lando’s eyes dart down before focusing ahead again.

Fine then. If he won’t pay attention to you, you’ll just have to make it impossible to ignore you.

You shift again, this time straddling him completely. The chair creaks louder. You settle against him, arms coming up around his neck. Your lips find his earlobe, teeth grazing the sensitive skin.

Lando inhales sharply. “Bunny ...” he says warningly.

“Hmm?” You hum, the picture of innocence even as your mouth continues its exploration of his neck.

Lando squirms beneath you. “The stream-”

“Forget the stream.” Your hands slip lower, dancing along the waistband of his joggers. Lando chokes back a groan. “Or they’re about to get one hell of a show.”

“Now you’ve done it,” he growls, his mouth finding yours in a heated kiss.

You melt against him, your fingers tangling in his curls as the kiss deepens. Lando’s hands run up and down your back, slipping under your nightgown to caress your skin.

You break apart breathlessly, resting your forehead against his. “I missed you this morning. The bed was cold without you to keep me warm,” you whisper.

Lando’s expression softens. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up. I just got caught up with the stream and time got away from me.”

You smile understandingly, gently caressing his face. “It’s okay, I know how it is. I just needed my daily dose of Lando.”

Lando chuckles softly. “I’m all yours now, bunny.”

You crush your lips to his. Lando responds immediately, the game forgotten. His hands grip your hips, pulling you tighter against him. Your tongue slips past his parted lips, deepening the kiss.

You give a satisfied hum, rolling your hips experimentally. He’s already hard beneath you. The chair creaks dangerously from your combined moving weight.

Lando pulls back with a gasp. “Wait, the stream-”

You silence him with another searing kiss. “Don’t care.”

Lando gives in with a groan, his mouth moving feverishly against yours. His hands slip back under your negligee, skimming up your bare thighs. You shiver as his calloused fingers explore higher, teasing along the edge of your underwear.

You nibble at his lower lip, reveling in the throaty sound it elicits. His hands grip your backside, guiding your hips as you rock together. The chair jerks and shifts beneath you.

In the background, tinny gunshots and explosions can be heard from the abandoned game. The chat is going wild, viewers trying to figure out what is happening.

Lando’s mouth trails hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. His stubble scratches deliciously against your sensitive skin. “You drive me crazy, you know that?” He mumbles against your collarbone.

“Mmm, mission accomplished then.” You thread your fingers through his hair, tugging his face back up to meet your lips.

Without warning, Lando stands, hooking your legs around his waist. You cling to him with a surprised squeak. Giggling, you reclaim his mouth.

Lando stumbles forward until your back hits the wall. You gasp as the cool surface meets your heated skin. Lando presses you harder against it, deepening the kiss until you’re dizzy and breathless.

His hands ruck the negligee up higher, moving it out of his way. Eyes locked with yours, he slips a hand beneath the lace edge of your panties, fingers exploring-

“Lando!” You gasp, head falling back against the wall.

He swallows your whimpers with another kiss. His fingers set a steady rhythm that has your toes curling in pleasure. Your hands clutch at his shoulders, short nails digging into his skin.

“Yes, Lando, please,” you beg shamelessly.

With a growl, Lando spins you both around and deposits you onto the edge of his desk. Gaming equipment clatters to the floor. The abandoned headphones swing haphazardly from the monitor.

Lando stands between your legs, hands pushing up your nightgown until it’s bunched around your waist. His eyes drink you in.

“Have I mentioned how fucking gorgeous you are?” He rasps. His hands smooth reverently over your exposed skin.

You loop your arms lazily around his neck with a hum of agreement. “You might have said it once or twice.”

Lando’s eyes sparkle. “Let me remind you again.”

He kisses his way down your neck, over the swells of your breasts, along your stomach. Your breathing turns shallow, hands coming up to tangle in his hair.

Lando pauses, fingers curling under the delicate waistband of your underwear. He glances up in question.

“Please,” you whisper. That’s all the permission he needs.

In one smooth motion he tugs them down your legs, letting them fall forgotten to the floor. Then his mouth is on you, hot and eager. Your head falls back, eyes slipping shut.

It isn’t long before you’re squirming and gasping beneath his ministrations. The edge of the desk digs into your lower back but you hardly notice. Your focus narrows to the feel of his tongue teasing that sensitive bundle of nerves, stoking higher and higher until-

“Lando!” You cry out as the pleasure crests and breaks over you. Your legs tremble, hips lifting off the desk.

Lando works you through it, drawing out every ounce of bliss until you slump back, spent and panting. He presses a final kiss to your inner thigh before rising up to claim your lips.

You can taste yourself on his tongue. Your hands slip under his shirt, nails raking over the hard muscles of his back. Lando hisses against your lips.

“This needs to come off. Now,” you demand, plucking at his clothes.

Lando happily obliges. He makes quick work of the buttons before shrugging the shirt off. Next come the joggers and briefs in one go. Then he’s gloriously bare before you.

You spread your legs wider in invitation. Lando steps between them, gripping your hips and tugging you forward until you’re poised right at the edge of the desk. He braces one hand by your head, the other angling himself at your entrance.

“Tell me if you need me to stop,” he says seriously. You smile, touched by his concern even in the midst of passion.

“I trust you.”

The words are barely out before he’s pushing inside. You both groan in unison at the feeling. He stills once fully seated, giving you a moment to adjust.

Then he draws back slowly before snapping his hips forward. You cry out, fingernails scraping at his back. Lando sets a steady pace, each powerful thrust punching the air from your lungs.

The desk rocks and squeaks beneath you. Various items cluttering its surface go tumbling to the floor. You vaguely register the background noise of video game gunfire and explosions still coming from the abandoned stream.

None of that matters right now. The only thing that exists is Lando above you, surrounding you, filling you so exquisitely.

You cling to Lando, gasping his name with each deep thrust. The desk continues protesting beneath you, edging closer to the monitors with every rock of your entangled bodies.

Lando’s forehead presses to yours, eyes squeezed shut in concentration. “You feel so good, bunny,” he grits out.

You slide a hand into his hair, guiding his lips back to yours. He kisses you messily, all tongue and clashing teeth.

You can feel your pleasure mounting again with each drag of his hips. His fingers slip between your bodies, finding that sensitive bundle of nerves. He rubs tight, agonizing circles in time with his powerful strokes.

“Oh god, Lando, just like that,” you whimper, teetering right at the precipice.

With a few more well-aimed thrusts, you tumble over the edge again, vision whiting out. Your pleasured cries echo through the room.

Lando groans as you clench around him. His rhythm stutters and then he’s following after you, warmth flooding your core.

For a long moment, the only sound is your combined heavy breathing. Lando collapses against you, face pressed into the crook of your neck. You run a hand lazily through his hair, down his back. Your legs are still locked loosely around his waist.

Finally Lando stirs, lifting his head to smile softly at you. “You drive me crazy but god, I love you.”

You grin, pecking his lips. “I love you too.”

With a groan, Lando carefully pulls out and takes a step back. He helps you sit up from the desk. Your muscles pleasantly ache and wobble like jelly.

And that’s when you notice the abandoned game still on screen, the chat scrolling wildly.

“Oh my god, the stream!” You gasp, smacking Lando’s arm. “It’s still on!”

Lando’s eyes go wide. “Shit!” He scrambles for the mouse, finally clicking the end stream button. The game and camera view disappear from the monitor, replaced by Twitch’s home screen.

Lando turns back to you with an embarrassed chuckle. “Well, that’s probably fifteen thousand people who just got more than they bargained for. And god knows how many more hopped on the stream when news got out of what we were doing.”

You dissolve into giggles, tugging Lando back into your arms. “Think we just made their day,” you say with a wink.

Lando smiles and kisses you sweetly. “You definitely made mine.”

***

Lando fidgets in his seat, thumb tracing anxious circles over your knuckles. You’re crammed into a conference room at the McLaren Technology Centre, facing a panel of stern faces.

At the head of the table sits Zak Brown, face like a disappointed father. To his right is Andrea Stella, lips pressed in a tight line. Flanking them are various PR reps, scribbling furious notes about damage control.

“This was incredibly irresponsible,” Zak begins gravely. “Your actions on the livestream could have had serious repercussions for yourself and the team.”

Lando hangs his head. “I know. I’m sorry, I got ... distracted.” At this, his thumb stills its movements, giving your hand a little squeeze.

You bite back a smile, remembering exactly how you thoroughly distracted him not even 24 hours ago.

“You’re lucky we were able to get your streaming ban overturned,” Andrea adds severely. “We made sure to emphasize that it was an accident but you’re on thin ice here. This can’t happen again.”

Lando nods, the picture of remorse. But you can see the corner of his mouth twitching as he fights back a grin.

“Are we clear?” Zak presses. “No more surprises on stream?”

You lean in close to Lando’s ear while the bosses stare him down. “No promises,” you whisper mischievously.

Lando’s face splits into a cheeky smirk. “No promises,” he echoes.

The PR team bursts into a frenzy, voicing their horror at his response. But Zak hides his own laugh while Andrea just shakes his head resignedly.

“You’re playing with fire,“ Zak says, but there’s humor glinting in his eyes now.

Lando shrugs, unrepentant. His thumb resumes its distracted movements over your hand under the table. “What can I say? I like to live dangerously.”

The bosses share a look, accepting that this is the best they’ll get from Lando today. The meeting wraps up quickly after that.

As you exit the building hand in hand, Lando pauses, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“You know, I never properly thanked you for that distraction yesterday,” he says lowly, backing you against the wall.

You bite your lip coyly. “Oh? And how do you plan on doing that?”

Lando’s eyes darken as he braces his hands on either side of your head. “I’ve got a few ideas,” he murmurs before capturing your lips in a heated kiss.

You melt against him, previous scolding already forgotten. His body presses flush to yours, kiss growing more passionate by the second.

After a long moment, you break apart breathless. Looking thoroughly mussed, Lando rests his forehead against yours.

“What do you say we get out of here and continue this at home?” He suggests, voice gravelly.

You grin, taking his hand to lead him eagerly to the car.

“I knew there was a reason I loved you,” you tease.

Lando chuckles, pinching your backside playfully. “Oh trust me, bunny, by the time I’m through with you, you’ll have at least ten more reasons why.”

“Let’s just make sure the camera is actually off this time,” you laugh. “We can save the encore for after you get your first win.”

#f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #lando norris #ln4 #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fic #lando norris fluff #lando norris fanfic #lando norris blurb #f1 fluff #f1 blurb #f1 one shot #f1 x y/n #f1 drabble #f1 fandom #f1blr #f1 x female reader #lando norris x female reader #lando norris x y/n #mclaren #lando norris one shot #lando norris drabble

[andthebeanstalk]

I am approaching the end of two extremely long-term (so so much longer-term than I thought they would be, dear CHRIST) creative projects by chipping away at my progress agonizingly slowly day-by-day,

and I'm so close now that at this point, when I talk about it, I am starting to sound like an old man yelling into the wind at the beginning of a supernatural thriller movie, like

HEED MY WORDS. ONE DAY. AND ONE DAY SOON, THE PROPHECY SHALL FINALLY COME TO PASS. THE LAST PIECES SHALL FALL INTO PLACE, AND THE STORY WILL BE COMPLETE. THEN, YOU'LL SEE. THEN YOU'LL ALL SEE.

#original #the blacksmith #actually the story won't be complete at all I will just have finished a series of chapters that have been giving me trouble for like 2 yrz #I wish that was hyperbole but it is not. I've been working on other parts of the story in the meantime #but also I've been spending most of my energy keeping myself and my partner alive so there were certain priorities to consider #i cannot express how frustratingly slow my writing has been. and all bc of life threatening illness. #poppycock. how dare i respond to trauma like it is traumatic?? /j #the other project is a 20-minute Dragon Age animation that I started in 2019. because I'm fucking crazy #I have been waiting to play the rest of the games until I finish this Dragon Age Origins animation. fucking. banana balls. #I just need a few more hours of writing and I'll finally have two full arcs of my graphic novel scripts published with concept art #if i could only focus for more than a few minutes a day. but it'll get better. things are not so dire as they have been #also by 'you'll all see' i ofc mean 'several of you will see!!' but it's a start

[ellemj]

Needs & Wants - Sex Pollen Trope Pt. 8

Bucky Barnes x Reader

**Read parts 1-7 first for the full effect.**

Summary: You and Bucky go on your first mission since the one where you were exposed to the sex pollen. Only this time, you have a professional babysitter observing you both and a game that neither of you is willing to stop playing.

Warnings: mentions of previous smut and prelude to upcoming smut, profanity, teasing, brief mention of drug use as an analogy, dry humping, slight exhibitionism, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires any other warnings.

Word Count: 6.3k

Author's Note: Special thanks to @littlemiss-yeehaw for giving this a read earlier today and convincing me not to scrap it, and for going back through my blog and listing out the warnings that I might've been missing. A true angel.

It’s been 7 days since your chemically-induced lust-filled night with Bucky in the safehouse. 7 days since he had his hands on you, since he was inside you, since he last kissed you. It’s been 4 days since your first partner talk session with Dr. Raynor. 4 days spent wondering what might happen if she comes to a sure conclusion that the two of you really did have sex that night. Will she suggest to Fury that your partnership be terminated? Will she spill the secret to the rest of the team? You don’t even know what you want the outcome to be, but thinking about it puts you on edge.

            Meanwhile, you and Bucky have been playing a very dangerous game. After that tense moment in the gym showers on Monday evening, you had a fairly normal team dinner upstairs. Nothing was out of the ordinary. Until the dinner turned into everyone piling into the main living area to watch some movie that Sam insisted was an absolutely necessary nightcap. Somehow, you ended up seated next to Bucky on one end of the sectional. You did a great job keeping your focus on the movie for the first thirty minutes. It wasn’t until Bucky very intentionally manspread on the couch that you felt like you were going to be needing an emergency exit. He made sure that the side of his thigh was pressed against the side of yours for the next ten minutes, and that alone made your body temperature increase to an uncomfortable degree. You tried nudging him with your knee, to get him to scoot away from you, but it only encouraged him to be bolder. He did the typical relaxed-male thing and rested his arm along the back of the couch behind you. The movement enveloped you in his scent and it was too much to handle. You were quick to excuse yourself and not come back to finish the movie. No one questioned it though. You’d had a lot of early nights since you came back from the HYDRA facility mission. Everyone else chalked it up to you recovering from the chemical exposure or maybe jetlag, but Bucky knew what you were doing. Avoiding him. He was having so much fun playing your little game, waiting for you to cave and give into your desires. You were kind of cheating by keeping yourself away from him. That’s not how the game is supposed to be played.

            You can’t avoid him today. Today, you’ve both been called in to be briefed on your first partner mission since the HYRDA facility one. Sam didn’t offer many details about it when he first asked you both to be in the conference room at noon today, so neither of you really know what you’re walking into. If it’s anything like your usual missions, it’ll be some breaking and entering or a smash-and-grab type situation. It’s what you and Bucky are best at. Getting in quietly, getting what you need, and getting out. And of course, you’re undeniably good at working together to take down any obstacles along the way.

            You step out of the elevator and make your way down the hall to the conference room, arriving twenty minutes before noon so you won’t immediately be thrown into the bustle of a briefing. You always show up early enough to read any mission files that have already been set out on the table for the upcoming op. You don’t like to go into these meetings completely blind. As you scan your palm to gain access to the room, you hear the sound of a chair scraping across the floor as it’s pulled away from the table. Seems like you aren’t the only one who decided to show up early today. You don’t know who you were expecting to find behind the closed door, but it sure as hell wasn’t Dr. Raynor.

            “Y/n, it’s nice to see you again.” Her voice is calm and collected, like she isn’t surprised at all that you’re standing right in front of her. You stare at her with a hint of confusion spreading across your face. Are you in the wrong conference room? No, there’s only one conference room on this floor of the compound. She must be in the wrong room. Dr. Raynor can see the wheels in your head turning as you try to figure out why she’s here. She decides to save you the trouble. “I’m observing your missions, remember?”

Ah, so this is the beginning of the babysitting.

---       

            Bucky wouldn’t say that he’s ever particularly nervous before going out in the field. If anything, he’s more calm than usual. He operates best when he’s under pressure, when he has tasks to complete. He can’t stand doing nothing for extended periods of time. He gets far too consumed with his thoughts when he lets his mind go idle. Yet, today he finds himself on edge. He doesn’t have to think too hard to figure out why, not with Dr. Raynor standing amongst the various SHIELD agents and analysts, watching as you both equip your in-ear monitors and get ready to make the drive to the gala that you’ll be attending undercover tonight. She puts him on edge, and not in a good way like you do. She makes him second-guess his decisions, she makes him more self-conscious. That can be a good thing at times, like when he’s being self-destructive. But in the field? He doesn’t need to be second-guessing himself when both of your lives are on the line.

            As Sam drones on, reminding you both of the main tasks to be completed during the mission tonight, your mind is elsewhere. Bucky seems so distant. He’s standing right beside you but he isn’t quite himself. He’s a little too quiet, a little too unfocused. You can’t tell what’s eating at him but you fear it’s the stupid teasing game you’ve both been playing all week. Maybe he let it get to his head.

            “Why do I feel like neither one of you are listening to me?” Sam suddenly asks, snapping his fingers around in the air to get your attention. You and Bucky both focus in on him.

            “It’s a simple op, Sam. Get in, put on a show, slip into the elevator, plug the device into the computer in the home office upstairs, then slip back out.” Bucky reiterates the plan, proving he didn’t really need to be paying all that much attention. Sam rolls his eyes, holding out a device that looks like a little USB drive. Bucky takes it and drops it into one of the pockets of his suit jacket. He looks good tonight. Who are you kidding? He always looks good. But tonight, he’s dressed in a black suit, complete with a black button-up shirt underneath and a black tie. Of course, he’s wearing his black gloves as well. As Sam tells him how important it is that he not lose that tiny little device, you find your eyes lingering on Bucky’s thighs. His pants hug them just right, exemplifying the toned muscles there and reminding you of how good he looks without any clothing obstructing your view of him. Fuck. You keep forgetting that Dr. Raynor is just a few feet away, analyzing your every move.

            It only takes a few more minutes of discussion before you and Bucky are climbing into a sleek black car and heading out of the garage of the compound. As soon as you’re out and onto the interstate, you let out a deep sigh, sinking back into your seat. You’re wearing the tiniest black dress that you own, it’s one of your favorites really. You don’t get many occasions to show it off, so you chose to put it on tonight. You don’t notice it at first, but when you lean back in the seat, your dress rides higher up your thigh and Bucky’s grip on the steering wheel tightens so much that his flesh knuckles turn white on one hand and his vibranium hand nearly leaves a dent. He needs to cool down.

            Neither of you have your in-ear monitors on yet. You won’t turn them on until you’re nearing the gala, since it’s a forty-minute drive there. There’s no point in listening to Sam chat up whoever happens to be sitting near him, he’ll do that just fine without the two of you having to suffer through it. You love Sam like family, but the man likes to talk more than a teenage schoolgirl.

            “Where are you tonight?” You ask, referring to the way Bucky seemed so out of focus and distant back in the garage.

            “I’m here.” He says quietly, keeping his eyes on the road. You sigh and cross your legs. This time, you don’t miss the way Bucky’s gaze darts over to you, running up your legs as your dress slides impossibly higher up your thigh. Any higher and he might be able to tell what color panties you’re wearing tonight. He adjusts himself in his seat, shifting his hips a little and pressing his head back against the headrest. He looks uncomfortable, and when you let your eyes scan down his body, you quickly find out why. He’s hard. Not even slightly hard. Fully erect and clearly testing the strength of his pant seams. In a split second, you make a decision to continue the game. You were going to give it a rest tonight. With Dr. Raynor watching you both so closely and already thinking that you’ve had sex, you didn’t think it’d be smart to push your luck. But you got all dressed up. Why let it go to waste?

            “Bucky…” You say, in a sultry tone. Bucky’s knuckles go white again at the sound of you saying his name. You notice it this time. He fucking hates how easy it is for you to get a rise out of him. It’s not even his own fault. You avoided him so much the last couple of days. Seeing you now, dressed like this? It’s like he’s an addict and he’s been without his drug of choice for too long. He’s in the beginning stages of withdrawal and his next fix is staring right at him, calling his fucking name. “What are the boundaries tonight?” You ask. Though the question itself sounds professional, the way you delivered it is anything but. You asked it in a way that implies you want to know so you can test whatever boundaries he lays out. You have all of the power in this moment and he can’t stand it. Do you think he doesn’t know what game you’re playing?

            “We need boundaries?” He asks, flipping the script on you. You lose your wits for a moment, unsure of what the hell to say back to him. He was supposed to lay out a few boundaries like no kissing with tongue or hands below the belt, so then you could cross the lines anyway just to fuck with him. He wasn’t supposed to make it a free-for-all. You’re silent for a few seconds too long and he can’t stand it. “I asked you a question.”

Holy fuck. Where does he get off being so demanding with you? You hate it and love it all at the same time. It sends a raging heat straight to your core and you feel your panties dampening with arousal. Your mind follows your body’s cues and answers him the way he expects to be answered: promptly.

            “Yes.” You muster the words up, but they come out soft. He zapped your confident demeanor away with one little phrase. He tsks now, relaxing in his seat. He’s gained control back and he’s relishing in it. He steers with only his left hand now, moving to rest his flesh hand over the gear shift between the two of you.

            “What boundaries do you need tonight?” He questions. Your mind immediately goes back to the two rules you had in the safehouse that night, though you only ever said one of them out loud. No kissing, and no using his name. You broke both of those rules before the sun ever came up. Obviously your first rule won’t fly in this situation, given the nature of the mission. Your second rule could be useful, considering Bucky’s cover name is simply going to be his real first name: James.

            “I don’t know.” You admit, after careful consideration.

            “You’re not going to tell me not to kiss you this time?”

            “I don’t think we could get away with not kissing when we’re supposed to be convincing everyone there that we want to fuck.” You point out. Bucky laughs lightly, moving the car into the left lane to pass a very slowly traveling Kia.

            “We wanted to fuck last week but we didn’t kiss until it had already happened a few times.”

            He really just said that.

            “We wanted to or we needed to?” You ask, just to clarify. He chuckles under his breath as he moves the car back into the right lane.

            “Wanted to, needed to, we can go with whichever makes you feel better.”

            “You’re such an ass.” You scoff, crossing your arms. This small act pushes your breasts up a bit and Bucky can tell out of the corner of his eye. He doesn’t dare to peel his eyes away from the road and steal a look, because if he does, he’ll crash this damn car when he can’t stop looking at you.

            “No kissing tonight.” He says. You raise an eyebrow at him, but he still doesn’t give you so much as a sideways glance.

            “Bucky, there’s no way we can pull off an assignment like this without kissing.” It’s not that you want to kiss him, but how else will you make it obvious that you want to fuck? You can’t risk botching the mission as part of your stupid little side game.

            “You can kiss anywhere except my lips.” He offers, acting like that’s some sort of compromise. As much as you want to argue with him, there is no fucking way you’re going to sit here in this car and plead for him to let you kiss his lips tonight. There isn’t a chance in hell.

            The rest of the car ride went by fairly quickly. Bucky pulled the car into the dramatic gated entrance of a mansion and stopped at the valet. You knew he’d already gotten into character when he turned to you before getting out of the driver’s seat and told you to stay put. He then waved the valet away from your side of the car, before calmly walking over and opening the door for you himself. It was almost attractive. But you know that wasn’t something he normally would’ve done. He’s just playing the part.

            Bucky holds out a gloved hand for you, which you accept, and then he helps you out of the car. Once you’re standing in front of him on your favorite black ankle-strap heels, he pushes the car door shut behind you and rests his left hand on your lower back. You tug the hem of your dress a little further down your thighs, since it rode up so much in the car, and surprisingly, Bucky appreciates that. Though he loved getting to see so much of your skin, he didn’t want everyone surveilling the mission to see it too. He also didn’t know if he could continue to think straight with how short your dress was becoming.

            As he guides you up the front steps of the mansion and into the double doors, his hand slips a little lower so it’s resting just millimeters above your ass. You feel your cheeks warming and butterflies waking up within you, but you tamp them down fast. This isn’t real. Fake it, get the intel you’re here for, and then get home and get the hell away from Bucky. That’s what you keep telling yourself.

            The only problem you were having was that Bucky was way too fucking good at faking it. He walked you right into the gala and wasted no time grabbing you a glass of champagne from a passing server. He found the two of you a nice corner to cozy up in, but made sure it was one that everyone could clearly see. He made sure that you weren’t hidden from plain sight. Then, as you took the first sip of champagne, he started in on step one.

            “You’re staring.” You whisper, his blue eyes following your every move. He’s standing close in front of you, the glass of champagne in his hand looking almost miniature, and his breath fanning across your lips.

            “I’m staring.” He agrees. Why is your heart racing? Jesus. This mission was a bad call. You turn away from him, taking the moment to scan the room. Nothing looks out of the ordinary. Everyone is dressed beautifully, drinking champagne and chatting away. Most of these guests probably have no idea that the owner of this house is the type of criminal that he is.

            Dr. Raynor is watching the live surveillance footage of the mission play out before her from her seat in the conference room of the tower. She’s jotting down notes as she observes you and Bucky, thoroughly surprised by what she’s seeing. Bucky is excelling at feigning the attraction and making it seem like he wants you. You, however, look anxious. You’ve barely even spoken since entering the gala three minutes ago and she’s starting to wonder if you’re going to wash the entire op down the drain.

            Bucky keeps his eyes focused on you as you now stand in front of him. He can tell how tense you are. What he can’t tell is if it’s because you don’t want to have to do this with him or if it’s because you do, and that makes you nervous as hell. Of course, the latter is right.

            “Come on, you two. Let’s get things moving.” Sam speaks through your in-ear monitors. Bucky takes a step forward now, stepping so close to you that his chest brushes against your back and your cascading, softly curled hair tickles his chin. You smell like strawberries. It’s the same intoxicating scent that he had to wash off of his skin after your night together.

            “It’s just me.” He breathes the words out next to your ear, trying to ease your nerves. You let yourself relax against him a little, taking another sip of champagne and closing your eyes for a moment. It’s just him. The guy that’s saved your ass in the field so many times that you’ve lost count. The guy that you’d trust above anyone else, even as you give him shit just for the hell of it. The guy that gave you the best sex of your life, not just once, but five fucking times in a row. It's just him.

            “Okay…” You whisper, deciding that you can be as calm and level-headed as he’s being right now. This is going to be easy. You’re a professional, after all.

            It’s not until you find yourself with your back against a wall and Bucky’s hands on your waist that you think you might be in over your head. It started out slow, light touches and seemingly innocent whispers in each other’s ears while standing at the very busy bar. After quite a few people started to give the two of you looks, Bucky led you over to an area where a handful of couples were gathered, chatting amongst themselves. That’s where he chose to make a display of grabbing your ass with his vibranium hand, making you gasp and lean into his chest. Trying to play off the gasp as being intentional, you immediately attached your lips to his neck. Kissing and sucking on the soft skin there. Even his skin tastes fucking good. You can’t help yourself when you start having flashbacks to the night you spent together. Once you start thinking about how good it felt with him that night, you begin chasing that feeling. You want him all over you, you want him inside you again. Though you know you can’t have that, you know you can get pretty damn close to it before this mission ends. So, you up your game. This time, you don’t have to hide any evidence of what you’re doing, because you were assigned to do this. You use that as your excuse for sucking a little mark on the side of Bucky’s neck, leaving him with something to find in the mirror later. As your lips leave his neck, one of his hands travels quickly up your back and he tangles his fingers in your hair at the back of your head. He tilts your head back until you’re looking up into his eyes. You can feel the stares of the couples around you, but you remind yourself that those stares are exactly why you’re doing what you’re both doing right now.

            Bucky’s eyes dart from your eyes down to your lips. Your fucking lips. God, he wants to kiss you. He remembers how sweet your mouth tasted the first time you kissed him. Like he could ever forget that. He bites his bottom lip in restraint before leaning down and kissing your neck instead, licking and sucking along the curve of your jaw, making his way up to your ear.

            “I think we’ve put on enough of a show, don’t you?” He asks softly, his lips tickling the shell of your ear. Your eyes flutter closed at the sound of his voice, hating that that he’s right. It’s time to make your way upstairs, which means that the touching and riling each other up is nearly over with. You nod your head, but Bucky doesn’t like that. He likes when you speak up and answer him. He likes hearing how breathy your voice sounds when you’re worked up like this. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

Shit. You feel a wave of heat spreading from where his lips are against your ear all the way down to your cunt. You take a deep breath, forcing your eyes open and looking over his shoulder. You see plenty of people in the crowded room taking their turns staring at the two of you.

“I think so.” You say quietly, placing a shaky hand on Bucky’s chest and pushing him back gently. You turn on your heel, reaching back and taking his hand in yours, before leading the way to the back of the large, open living area.

“Nice work. You’re going to find the opening to a big hallway at the back of the room. It’ll be dark, you’ll go all the way to the end and take the elevator to the fifth floor. Jesus, this place is huge. Why anyone needs to a home with five floors to themself is beyond you. You reach the hallway quickly, and Bucky holds onto your hand firmly, letting you guide him. The hallway itself has to be at least fifty-feet long, but eventually you reach the elevator. Bucky steps forward, letting his front press against your back as he presses the button to call the elevator with his free hand, his other hand still clasped in yours. Instead of stepping away from you after pressing the button, he stays flush against you. You feel his free hand land on your hip and pull you against him with such a slight movement that it’s almost unnoticeable.

You immediately feel it. His hard cock pressing into your ass.

“There’s one camera in the elevator, so keep up the show.” Sam instructs, just as the elevator is arriving and the doors are sliding open in front of you. The lights inside are dim and the walls are a shiny metal, but not fully reflective. Before you have a chance to step in, Bucky is pushing you forward with the hold he has on your hip. He wastes no time in turning you around. It’s exciting, the way he can so easily move you and handle you. It’s as if it takes little effort or thought for him to do exactly what he wants with you. He walks you backward until your ass hits the wall, and then he looks down into your eyes, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Don’t move.” He says lowly, before stepping away and hitting the button to carry you both up to the fifth floor. As the doors close, he positions himself back against you, tugging on your hair and kissing your neck once more. You sigh as you secretly enjoy his touch, praying that he doesn’t realize just how real your heavy breathing and soft whimpers are. But Bucky knows they’re real. He’s heard you just like this before…whimpering, panting underneath him as he fucked his cock into you. It’s what’s driving him to leave marks all along your collarbone right now. It’s what has his cock so fucking hard that he worries his suit pants won’t survive the mission.

Temporarily forgetting that this is supposed to be an act, Bucky presses his hips into you, nibbling on your earlobe as you take in the feeling of his hard cock resting against your stomach.

“James…” You breathe his name out and he freezes. You feel his cock twitch in his pants and a devious smile plays on your lips. You’re so damn lucky that they let him use his real first name for this mission. You don’t know it yet, but you can have anything you want when you say his name like that. Any. Damn. Thing. He’s about to say fuck it and shove his tongue into your mouth when the elevator dings and the doors open to the fifth floor, revealing a dark home office. You push his chest lightly and he gets moving, turning around and leading the way out of the elevator.

“Security does a sweep of every floor once every ten minutes. If our timing is right, you should have about eight minutes to finish this. Just plug the device into the laptop and leave it for three minutes. It has to be plugged in for at least three minutes to complete the download. Then you’re all clear and you guys can get out of there.” Torres reminds you both through your in-ears. Bucky makes a beeline for the desk at the far back wall of the room, reaching in his pocket for the device and quickly finding the USB port of the laptop. He plugs it in and it lights up with a pale green glow as the intel begins downloading. You both stand there in silence, watching the device as if that will make it download any faster. After about thirty seconds, Sam speaks up again, a slight panic rising in his tone.

“You’ve got company in thirty seconds, security decided to sweep early.”

“Shit.” You mumble, your mind suddenly moving at a hundred miles an hour. Bucky turns to you and meets your gaze, and you immediately know that you’re on the same wavelength. You reach beneath the hem of your dress, tugging your black panties down and holding onto the edge of the desk as you quickly step out of them. You drape them over the device to cover up the green glow of the light, and then turn to face Bucky.

“Sit on the edge of the desk.” He tells you in a hushed tone, as his eyes dart to the fabric of your panties beside the laptop. You find yourself listening without second-guessing his demand. He steps in between your legs and you can hear the whirring of the elevator as it’s called down to one of the lower floors, likely to pick up the security guards that will be sweeping the office any minute now. You’re running out of time. Bucky begins loosening his tie around his neck, and then unbuttons the top three buttons of his shirt in record time, as you reach your hands out and begin unbuckling his belt. Fuck, he’s enjoying this so much more than he should. When you unzip his pants, you nearly moan at the way you see his cock straining against the fabric of his boxers. You only get a peek though, because you don’t push his pants down even a little bit. Bucky looks you over quickly as he deftly slides the straps of your dress off of your shoulders. His eyes meet yours and you both know exactly what you need to do. You lay back on the desk and he pulls your thighs around his hips, leaving your dress in place so you’re still fully covered. Suddenly, you feel his clothed, hard cock pushing against your bare clit and you unintentionally arch your back off the cold desk, biting your lip and letting your eyes fall closed. Anyone seeing this on the SHIELD surveillance footage right now would think that you’re just really good at your job, really good at faking things undercover. Only Bucky knows that he just drew real pleasure from you.

“Get loud for me, we have to sell it.” He encourages you, bucking his hips into yours and leaving one hand on your right thigh while his other hand wraps gently around your throat.

            “Fuck, James.” You moan loudly, hoping the security guards can already hear you from the elevator shaft. “Right there, baby, oh my god.” This earns a loud groan from Bucky and his grip on your thigh tightens so much that you think you might be left with a bruise in the shape of his hand. The friction of him rutting against you like this is so fucking good that you let out another very real moan right as the elevator dings and the doors slide open behind Bucky. You both pretend not to notice them, trying to give the device more time to do its job. Bucky continues to mimic the actions of a guy slamming his cock into his girl, moans falling from your lips and perfectly timed grunts mixed in with dirty praises falling from his.

            “Hey!” A deep voice yells out, and you both gasp for show. You push yourself up on your elbows and look over Bucky’s shoulder. He keeps his body firmly planted where it is to shield you from the men who stand by the elevator. He’d be damned if he’d let them see you this way. “You two can’t be up here.” The man’s voice is serious and authoritative, but his security guard buddy has an amused smile on his face.

            “Oh my god, James, you said we wouldn’t get caught.” Your voice is full of fake embarrassment as you cover your face with one hand. He laughs before looking over his shoulder at the guards.

            “Just thirty more seconds.” Sam calls out.

            “I’d apologize but I’m really not sorry about this.” Bucky says to the two guards, making the amused one laugh and the authoritative one shoot his partner a warning glance. “Can we just have a few seconds to get ourselves together?” Bucky asks kindly, tilting his head in your direction as if to remind them that you’re a lady. The security guards are silent for a second, assessing the situation and scanning the rest of the office for anything in disarray besides the two of you.

            “You have thirty seconds to situate yourselves and get in the elevator.” The first guard barks, turning around to face away from you and gesturing for his buddy to do the same. Bucky steps back from you and you lower yourself to the floor, pulling your dress down and sliding the straps back onto your shoulders. Bucky quickly fixes his pants and belt before moving on to his tie and shirt buttons. You smooth down your hair a bit, leaving it at least a little messy for evidence.

            “Got it, you’re good to go.” Sam gives the all clear to remove the device.

            Bucky smirks at you and as the guards turn back around to face the both of you, he leans in close, reaching past you to grab your panties off of the desk. He skillfully grips the device within them, pulling it out of the laptop and shoving both the panties and device into his suit jacket pocket, making sure the guards witness his move.

            “Alright you two, time to head out.” One of the guards calls out, waving you toward the elevator. Bucky takes your hand in his and leads the way, the cocky smile that you’ve become so familiar with never leaving his lips.

            Though the guards would’ve allowed you to stay at the gala, it only made sense for you to leave, acting like you were heading out early to finish what you started in the home office upstairs. Bucky stands behind you, peppering kisses up and down the side of your neck while you wait for the valet to bring your car around. As the car comes into view, he cheekily slides his hand from your hip down to the slit in your dress, tracing the triangular outline with his index finger. You have to tell yourself a million times that this is just part of the job.

---

            Of course, the mission couldn’t possibly go fully according to plan. Do they ever? When Bucky began to drive you both back to the compound, you soon realized that you were being tailed. Sam was quick to direct you to a hotel, arranging to have a team of SHIELD operatives nearby for protection in case of any kind of ambush. You were sure that the guards didn’t see the device, but that doesn’t mean that they didn’t want to check you out and make sure you were really just some lusty young couple.

            That’s how you ended up where you are now: laying on your stomach, still in your dress and heels, on a very comfortable luxury bed while Bucky showers. You have to fight the dirty thoughts flooding your mind, which is really fucking hard to do when the man that you want to do dirty things with is naked just a few feet away in the bathroom. Forcing your mind to stay empty leads to you drifting off to sleep as you wait for him to finish showering so you can have your turn.

            You’re startled out of your extremely light slumber by the feel of Bucky’s hands on one of your ankles. You realize that he’s undoing the straps of your heels as you lay on the bed.

            “Do you have the device still?” You mumble the question, not moving from your position or trying to stop his movements.

            “Mhm, I have your panties too.” He answers, sounding so pleased with himself. You think about kicking him, you could easily do it in the position that you’re currently in, but you’re secretly really glad that he’s taking your heels off for you so you let his teasing slide.

            “Yeah, that was a nice move back there, grabbing them and the device the way you did.” He hmms in response, taking off your second heel and setting them both on the floor at the foot of the bed. You feel his hand softly pat the side of one of your thighs before he steps away from the bed and sits in the chair by the window. You roll onto your back and push yourself up into a sitting position, leaning back on your hands. You don’t know what you expected him to be wearing, but it sure as hell wasn’t only his boxers.

            “Like what you see?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at you and flashing you a suggestive smile. He’s relaxed in the chair, a bit slouched with his arms on the arm rests and his legs spread apart. You do like what you see, but he doesn’t get the satisfaction of hearing you say it out loud. You roll your eyes and push yourself off of the bed, dragging yourself into the bathroom where you find his suit jacket laid across the counter. You reach into the right pocket and pull out your panties.

            “They were wet.” He calls out, his voice carrying above the noise of the running water as you turn on the shower. You step back out of the bathroom and make eye contact with him, narrowing your eyes.

            “What?”

            “Your panties, they were wet.” He smirks. You feel your cheeks heating up and for a moment, you’re embarrassed. Meanwhile, he’s basically beaming with pride. Fuck him. Why are you even embarrassed? He was rock hard, that’s no different than you being wet. You let out a deep sigh and start sliding the straps of your dress down your arms. His eyes follow the movement of your hands and his smug smile falters when he realizes you’re not going back into the bathroom to undress. Honestly, you’re getting sick of this game.

            “And your dick was hard.” You retort, staring at him. He shrugs his shoulders, acting nonchalant, but his gaze is still trained on your now bare shoulders.

            “Occupational hazard.” He says calmly. He’s such a fucking ass.

            “So, now that the job is over, you’re not hard anymore, right?” You question, letting your eyes travel down his tanned, muscular torso and settle on his lap, where he's most definitely still hard. He doesn’t respond but continues staring at you. For once, you’ve shut him up. His silence gives you a newfound boldness, and you start sauntering over to him. You see him stiffen in the chair and a small giggle leaves your lips. God, you’re so fucking pretty and you sound so innocent when you laugh like that. It almost makes him forget about the ways you let him destroy your body a few nights ago. Almost.

Next Part

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel #mcu #the winter soldier #winter soldier #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐒𝐡𝐮𝐭 𝐔𝐩 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞 | 𝐂.𝐒 ♡

【Synopsis】 : You had one job and three rules. And you broke every single one.

『Word count』 : 2.18k

-> Genre: Smut. Mafia Au.

Pairing: MobBoss!San x PrivateDriver!Reader 

[Warnings] : Swearing. Gun violence. Some angst. Mention of death. San's a bit bloody. Blood (obviously). Unprotected sex. Car sex. Squirting. Light-hearted banter. Hinting of sex work and abuse (doesn't go into detail). Speeding. Car chase. Fingering. Fucking while driving (don't do this). Pet names

Note: This is based on this drabble. Everyone liked it so much that i just had to make a full fic, hehe.

Networks : @newworldnet ♡

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“Oh no, I want to hear it, darling. What else would you find enjoyable to ride?” He shot the last of his drink, his hand evidently palming his clothed hard-on.

“I think you already know the answer, sir.”

“Hmm.” was all he responded with.

-

That night you’d fuck yourself on your dildo with the idea of San palming himself while you drove. The way his pants were stuck in your brain, playing on repeat as he continued to pleasure himself while you drove him home. You couldn’t have dropped him off sooner, cause you swore he was going to cum in his pants if he kept going.

‘Until next time, bunny.’

His voice was so smooth. Deep. You know you were playing a dangerous game by becoming involved with a client much less a feared mob boss that would kill someone that looked at him the wrong way. But the way he looked at you through the mirror every time you drove him. He was always so happy to see you, chatting about anything to keep his mind off his work. You were an escape for him. Something that was a reminder he was supposed to be this angry man twenty-four-seven. No, he could, laugh, tease, flirt, with you and you’d either shut him down or egg him on. Both of which rial him up even more.

The idea of touching you, having you. Even if it was for one night, it was becoming increasingly more tempting. But alas, he knew you. You are professional, and you wouldn’t disobey your company’s rules.

Do not sleep with the clients.

But something deep in your soul was screaming at you that all of your morality was about to go out the window. You were sent to pick up a client on a south port right after they had finished some trade. Well, that was the plan, at least, but here you were sitting an hour later after the supposed pick-up. This is getting ridiculous. You thought, shifting in your seat, trying to keep your muscles awake. What is taking him so long?

You knew of the client. Some lowlife trying to make it big in the mafia world. How he managed to hire you was a mystery. Maybe a debt is being paid? Or some sweet talking. But then again, from what you heard, he had neither up his sleeve. You closed your eyes for a moment, just a moment, trying to rest the tired feeling you were experiencing behind your temple. Everything was quiet, peaceful almost… Well, that was until you heard a gunshot, then two more following it.

You sat up and looked around frantically, spotting a few men rushing out of the large barn that sat by the waterfront. They were chasing a man, a young feline looking—it’s San.

The side door opened to a bloody-looking man with a feverious smile. His adrenaline was pumping to the point that you could see the veins in his neck bulging. His gun was still tight in his grip, wiping his brow with the back of the same hand. “I need you to get us out of here, princess.”

“I..B-but. Wait. My client…” You were so confused, not even registering you started the car. The men that had been chasing San were hot on your tail, so you began to floor it through the back roads of the port.

“Uh, yeah, well. He’s dead. He didn’t like the deal I offered and the bitch thought he could beat it out of me. ME! The king of fucking Seoul. Fucking arrogant pig.” San rambled but you barely heard what he had to say about the client. No, all you could think about was getting the fuck out of dogged and away from any of the crooks San managed to piss off. But then again pissing people off seemed like San's specialty.

“Where do I even go from here those bastards are probably tracking my fucking car.” You’ve never spoken so out of line before in front of a client but here you were. San just raked his fingers through his dirty hair, licking his busted lip.

“Why would they be tracking us.” San started searching through the glove departments for any signs of a tracker, but you just huffed, clutching the wheel tighter before almost screaming at him.

“They would be tracking us ‘cause they are the ones that own this fucking car and I was supposed to drive their fucking boss to a fucking safe house you idiot.” You didn’t mean to blow up but the tension became so thick in the vehicle you felt like you had no choice. San sat still for a moment, never hearing someone call him out of his stupidity before other than his right hand, Wooyoung. The silence was making your skin crawl, making you suddenly aware you just yelled at a mob boss. A mob boss that was definitely packing some kind of weapon…The fucking king of Seoul as he put it. You suddenly felt a hand touch your thigh making your whole body jump and the car almost swerved off the road.

“Well go on. Get us out of here, darling.” His voice was smooth and collected. It made your head spin. “B-but the track—If we get far enough, the tracker won’t reach, and then we can dump the car and run." San chuckled, turning back to stare at the road. You, on the other hand, were struggling to keep focus on the tar in front of you. He hasn't moved his fucking hand…

You started to speed up, swerving through the small amounts of traffic. You kept eyeing the rear-view mirror checking your back, and you noticed several cars tailing you.

Bastards.

You took a sharp left, causing San to shift in his seat and his hand that was perched on your thigh to slide up higher. You visibly shivered, making San aware of where his hand went. He just smirked, "Such a good girl. Getting me out of here. Remind me, why you don't drive for me permanently again?"

"Cause you flirt too much and I'm…" you felt his finger brush against your inner thigh… "I-I'm in a contract with the company I work for."

"Hmmm, well, you know I'm pretty good at making contracts disappear." He dared to reach further, and you were delusional enough to open your legs a little for him.

"H-he'd kill me. I can't leave." There was so much more in your contract that San didn't know of, but he could think of a few things the scum bag made you do. You have a passion for driving and driving fast. And he used that to get you to do other shit for him. Bastard.

"You won't have to ever do anything for him ever again. Come home with me. I'll look after you. Let you ride any of my cars… and anything else you might want…" he leaned towards your tense frame, seeing your knuckles turn white from how hard you held the wheel. "I'd give you the moon if you asked, darling. Anyone for my best girl."

My best girl…. oh, now your head is definitely spinning. Your foot hit the gas harder, reaching a long stretch of dirt road. Sitting at 90, you jumped to 120. "S-san…"

He popped the button of your dress pants, slipping his fingers delectably down until they grazed your bare core.

125km/h

"You like to be called my best girl, huh? Just need some praise, princess?" His breath tickled as he licked a strip along your neck up to your ear, biting your ear lob. All the while, his hand dipped further, running his long finger along your slit. "Fuck your soaked baby. Wet for me baby?" He chuckled, deeply.

You bit your lip, trying so hard not to close your eyes. "San p-please." You didn't know why you said that, but it was all you could think of. He pushed the pad of his finger against your clit, rubbing in slow little circles.

130km/h

"God you know how much I've thought about this pussy. How much I've dreamt about fucking her, tasting her. I bet you taste like fucking honey darling." His finger slid into your aching hole, making you gasp.

135km/p

Your watery eyes looked through the rear-view mirror, seeing no one behind you anymore, just a thick dust cloud created in your wake. You felt his finger slip in and out of you, making you open your legs wider for him. He chuckled, kissing your neck more until.

You slammed on the brakes, drifting the car through the dirt until it spun around and stopped in a sharp huff. Everything happened so quickly, but it was like you and San were in sync. Undoing your belts, he pulled his chair's brake, pulling the seat backwards so he had more leg room and was angled so you could climb on top of him.

Your lips captured his in a hot and messy kiss while his hand worked his belt and pants, slipping them down just enough so his naked ass could rest on the leather and his cock slapped against his clothed abdomen. You pulled your pants off while still in your seat. Ditching your slip-on sneakers before climbing onto his lap.

He gripped your blouse, ripping it off so the button flew everywhere. Neither of you cared though. Not as his lips latched on the top of your breasts, tugging your bra down so your tits could spill over the top. "Fuck,"

He groans as he catches a glimpse of your body. You are perfect, better than he imagined. "This was not how I wanted to ravish you."

"Yes, it was, don't fucking lie." You cut him off with another kiss. In truth, you were right. He had many dreams of fucking you senselessly in one or all of his vehicles. Maybe even on his bike, too.

"It's the thought that counts." He laughed against your lips.

"Shut up." You pulled your panties aside, sinking your fingers inside yourself. San watch in awe as you stretched yourself out on top of his twitching cock. And as if you could get more perfect, you moaned his name while doing it.

"Fuck your gorgeous." He slammed his head back against the chair and groaned as he bucked his hips up to try and get some kind of friction. But what he didn't expect was to feel your hand wrap tightly around his aching shaft. "Jesus fuck.."

It was your turn to giggle now, shifting your weight you lined your soaking entrance to his red angry cock tip, letting him breach your walls with a pop. You slowly sank down on his inch by inch. His hands flew for your hips, helping you bottom him out. "Saaniie y-you're huge. Fuck."

"Don't say shit like that. I-Fuck.. I won't last." His eyes hazily gazed to where you were connected feeling you pull up, then slam back down onto his cock. You circled your hips, drawing loud moans from both of you. Your hands fly to his shoulders, bringing his body closer to yours. Chest to chest. San nuzzled his face into your neck, taking a large inhale through his nose. He could smell your sweet perfume mixing with the lude scent of sex.

"So perfect." He mumbled, bracing his feet to the floor before jackhammering into your soaked cunt. Your screams were muffled against his neck as his pace became ruthless and harsh. Your hips moved out of sync with his thrusts, perfectly letting you grind your clit against his pelvis, sending electricity up your spine.

"S-sann, I'm gonna cum. Please let me cum." You whimpered, biting down on his shoulder fearing to draw blood.

"Yes, cum baby. I want to feel you cum around my cock. Be a good girl." He groaned, holding you tighter, feeling his own high creeping closer. Your tummy tugged tight and snapped. Your hips stilling, taking San's abusive thrusts as you squirted all over his lap.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck." San slammed deep inside you, splurting his seed inside you, painting your walls with his cream. He kisses your shoulder, legs slightly shaking as he empties his load. You just laid there, taking every drop. Your pussy clenched around him, hissing at the sensitivity. Your fingers were laced in his hair, and his making shapes on your sweat-still clothed back.

"I broke the rules…" You whispered. San felt a little guilty that he made you break the rules of your company. He tainted you, and he was sorry for it. You'd never get another job as a driver if people found out you slept with a client. "You made me go over 140. You're lucky there weren't cops out here."

Oh, you were complaining about sleeping with him.

"That's what you're worried about." San had to laugh, hugging your figure tighter as he chuckled against your neck.

"Yes, I could have crashed and fucked the car."

"Yeah, instead, you just fucked me." You sat up and slapped his chest for that comment.

—

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[attapullman]

Bob From Stats | Robert "Bob" Floyd

Summary: College is a wild time, but absolutely nothing could prepare you for the quiet guy from Stats riding around campus as a cowboy. Or what a good kisser he is.

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: f!reader, smut, 18+ ONLY as always, dry humping, alcohol, drunken party games, mentions of studying because that gives me PTSD, semi-exaggerated Greek life for theatrical reasons

A Note From Mo: Somehow my frat!Bob, drunk Bob is Rhett, and 7 minutes in heaven ideas all rolled into one fic - wild! Massive shoutout to everyone who listened to me talk about Stats Bob (who is now officially my #2 Bob, I love him) and for supporting this here lil blog. May you find a hobby-horse-wielding future WSO to sweep you off your feet too!

“I hate this. I’m going to quit school and become a stripper.”

Anna gives you a wry look. “That joke was only funny the first time you said it.”

“So you admit I’m funny!”

The two of you have been spread out in the library the majority of the evening. Textbooks, snacks, and highlighters littering the glossy dark wood. You’re on hour five of assignments and your brain is pounding against the front of your skull. Your other classes aren’t too bad, a bit time consuming, but Statistics is a foreign language. Thinking in probable numbers? It was one thing when the nice guy who sat behind you helped explain concepts, but Anna does not have quite the same analytical mind.

The sky outside is an inky black and the library is quiet except for your frustrated huffs. It’s Saturday night. The rest of campus is indulging in cheap beers at Barney’s, slinking along Greek Row, or enjoying tonight’s episode of Saturday Night Live. It’s time to get out of here and crawl into your soft bed. Torturing yourself with Stats homework will be just as painful on Sunday.

“If I buy us a pint of chocolate chip cookie dough, can we blow this off and hang out back at the dorms?” Anna is nodding before you’ve even finished. Stuffing notebooks into backpacks and capping pens low on ink, you’re strolling down the library stairs not even five minutes later.

As the balmy evening campus air hits your face, you already feel fresher. Campus is quiet, late enough that most people are settled into their Saturday night plans. As the two of you near Greek Row, there’s a comfortable silence as you appreciate the breeze through the trees and the warm glow of campus housing windows.

That is, until a low whoop rings out. An undercurrent of boisterous cheering and what sounds like stomping feet. You exchange eyes with your roommate. What is that?

As if summoned, a group comes galloping through the neatly trimmed cypress trees around the corner. They’re stomping their feet in a rhythm, hands held mid-air to imitate holding reigns. Drunken laughs ring out between cries of “Whoa!” and “Steady there, Lucky!” To round it off, the leader of their horse play (literally) is full-on cosplaying as a cowboy, his jeans tucked into boots and a Stetson perched atop his head. 

Wait, is he holding a hobby horse? It’s been decades since you’ve seen those horse heads stuck on a stick. The stuffed felt Appaloosa head is reigned in the cowboy’s hands, where he pretends to spur it back into action. 

Just when you think you’ve seen it all.

The group continues its way toward you and you’re equally secondhand embarrassed and amused. As they grow closer you recognize a few guys from the Pi Kapp house and wave. But it’s Anna who makes the most shocking discovery when Mr. Cowboy tilts his brim up.

"Is that Bob from Stats?" 

It takes a second to look past the brown felt hat and the hobby horse he's taking for a spin, but that's definitely the same pink-cheeked Bob Floyd who has lent you a pencil all semester. 

“Howdy, ladies.” He tips his hat to you, all toothy grin and droopy drunk eyes. "Can I offer you a ride?"

You stare open-mouthed. Shocked. That slow rancher drawl is new. The unbridled confidence is new. Actually, the entire getup is new. For nine weeks you’ve seen him in the same trucker hat and sweatshirt combo while going over homework answers together. What is going on?

He’s clearly in the middle of his house party crawl, bright blue eyes half open behind his metal frames. Just as gorgeous as ever as a tendril of sandy hair curls against his forehead. Normally your reaction to him is tender, a puppy dog crush. But this wild, inebriated version of him? You’re hot under the collar.

“You think there’s room on your horse?” Ever since that first Stats class he’s made your brain feel like it’s on RedBull. The way he noticed you missing a writing utensil and offering you his extra. His kind smile when you get a homework answer completely wrong. Anna hasn’t noticed your crush, but it feels obvious with the way you can barely keep eye contact with him yet are unable to look away. Especially with that stupid cowboy hat on.

He bites his lip, considering your response, and his buddies all razz him as he drawls out, “There will be if we squeeze in.”

The wink makes your mouth dry.

Someone from the back of the group complains of the cold and the group prepares their steeds to head back to Pi Kapp. Anna explains you’re headed back to the dorms, tone deaf to the sexual tension, and Bob nods with his brow furrowed. 

“Another time then.” His white tshirt practically glows in the moonlight. “Have a good night, chickadees. Get home safe!”

With another tip of his Stetson to you, Bob Floyd gallops away toward another keg. 

You’re sprinting across campus, cursing how late your meeting with your advisor went. There was ten minutes to get across campus and he had spent four of those questioning whether you really needed another semester of French. You make it into the lecture hall with a minute to spare, finding your preferred spot in the lower rows where you can actually see the board. Right in front of Bob.

“What? No cowboy hat for class?” His cheeks flame red, the hope you’ve forgotten about his Saturday antics lost. He looks like himself today, his signature trucker cap keeping the hair off his face. Those friendly ultramarine eyes shyly focusing on his notebook because god forbid he makes eye contact after you’ve seen him gallop across campus on a fake horse. 

He rubs the back of his neck over his soft-looking crewneck, an awkward smile playing on his lips. “It’s at the cleaners.”

You give him an amused grin before settling yourself into one of the classically uncomfortable lecture seats. Anna waves to you from where she’s rushing in, historically always late. The professor is shuffling notes at the podium as she collapses into the seat next to you, nodding her head in greeting to you and to Bob. She raises her eyebrows to you, a “remember when Bob was dressed as a cowboy” gesture, and your lips twist happily. 

“Alright, class, who’s ready to talk probability?” The collective groans and hollers mark the start of lecture. You flip open your notebook and start digging around for a writing instrument in your bag. Like usual, you seem to be missing a pen or pencil when you need one most.

A tap on your shoulder. You turn and lock eyes with the frat boy-turned-cowboy with the shy smile. He holds out a pencil to you. Taking it sheepishly, you mouth a thank you and turn back to lecture. After nine weeks it shouldn’t be this embarrassing, but every week he’s given you a pencil since you whispered shoot! a little too loud on Week 1.

Risking a quick glance back at him, engrossed in the Empirical Law of Averages while he twirls his pencil, you’re not sure you can survive the rest of the semester.

By the end of the Stats lecture on Thursday, you have one brain cell to your name and seven pages of notes. What a brutal class. Midterms were quickly approaching and not a single professor had any mercy. As you pack up your stuff - including the borrowed pencil that would promptly disappear before next class - you make a study plan with Anna for that evening. She brings the chips, you’ll supply the vodka.

“Are you two not hitting the houses tonight?” He looks uncomfortable having interrupted the two of you.

Bob shifts his backpack to his other shoulder, adjusting the collar of his navy blue sweatshirt. Other than when he’s kindly exchanged homework answers before class - or been drunkenly galloping across campus - the two of you don’t speak much. The odd quip here and there, but overall the two of you exist in pencil-sharing quiet. “Everyone’s having pre-midterm parties before buckling down to study.”

“Oh, that sounds fun!” You look at Anna encouragingly. As needed as a vodka-infused study session was, one night out couldn’t hurt. And it was Thursday. No classes tomorrow meant you had three days to buckle down and attempt to understand anything you’ve learned this semester. 

She eyes you warily, but agrees that Greek Row sounds like a better option than highlighting textbooks. Bob flashes you his timid smile beneath the brim of his cap. “It’ll be a fun night. Maybe I’ll see you? If not, have a good weekend!” 

As he starts to walk out, a feeling takes over you. “Bob?” You watch him slow down and turn, wide blue eyes watching you from behind those unconventionally cute glasses. “You’ll be at the Pi Kapp house, yeah?” He nods. “Cool. See you around!”

Despite standing next to it the entire conversation, neither of you notice the pencil sitting on the desk, left behind as you head out for your respective weekends.

“What did you say?” You’re practically yelling to be heard over the EDM that Sigma Chi is blaring. They’ve turned their house into a rave with glow sticks, body paint, and music so loud your eardrums must be burst. The beer is warm, your arm has supernaturally purple paint smeared across it, and Anna has been unsuccessfully telling you a story for ten minutes.

Huffing, she grabs your arm and drags you toward the entrance, tossing your cups onto a random hallway table where a heated makeout session is taking place. They move out of the way just enough so the two of you can slip out of the old colonial house and out into the cool night. The ringing in your ears subsides slowly as you lean against the columns of the front porch. 

“House number three? Also sucked. Three strikes and you’re out? Can we go home?” Anna grabs your wrist and pouts. She wanted movie night with vodka and a pizza from Pietro’s. You wanted to blow off steam.

But Alpha Sig had mostly been freshman and Phi Delt, while not a terrible party, had the most smarmy men on campus. The bleeding eardrums of Sigma Chi was preferable to pushing off men in polos just to grab another drink. You just wanted a semi-decently flavored alcoholic beverage - maybe three - while chatting with some friends. You weren’t asking for much.

Allowing Anna to drag you in the direction of the dorms, ready to admit defeat, you slow to a stop seeing the bricked entrance to Pi Kappa Phi. Bob’s fraternity. A few minutes wouldn’t hurt, right?

It takes a little convincing, but soon you’re in the warmly lit foyer of the Pi Kapp house. The vibe is more relaxed than Sigma Chi, with a keg in the corner, an array of liquor bottles in the kitchen, and hip-hop softly filling the house. You’re impressed they’ve even gone the extra mile with multi-colored string lights across every surface to brighten up the otherwise dark house. 

“Yooooo, how’s it going?” A drunken loaf of snapback and Deep Eddy envelopes you in a hug. It’s Tyler, one of your freshman seminar PK friends. Exchanging pleasantries - the best you can with someone that far gone - he drags you further into the house. Miscellaneous groups of Greek and geed litter the hallways. Anna sees her friends from Delta Gamma and ditches you, promising to get home safe. Tyler continues on his mission to god knows where.

At least he’s considerate enough to stop in the kitchen so you can grab a whiskey lemonade to sip.

Eventually you’re spat into a sitting room of sorts, groups crowding the ring of sofas while drunkenly jeering at the game. You set yourself on the arm of one, trying to make sense of the theatrics. The latest victim laughs out a “Truth!” before everyone giggles wickedly. Are they playing truth or dare? 

Your eyes gloss over the group, trying to figure out who else you know. A few PK’s you recognize, a girl who smiles but looks unfamiliar, and…a cowboy hat that is a dead giveaway.

Standing up and walking around the group, you tap him on the shoulder. The biggest blue eyes meet yours, a surprised smile splitting his face. 

“You made it!” That deep drawl is back and that tingle reappears on your spine. Bob jumps up from the couch, beer bottle dwarfed in his hand, and comes to stand with you. “You having a good night?”

Ironically, your night is much better now that you’ve found him. He’s back in his cowboy gear, a worn denim shirt tucked into his jeans and those same cowboy boots scuff against the hardwood. You’re tempted to steal the felt hat from his head just so he looks a little bit more like Bob from Stats. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, letting the alcohol be an excuse, you succumb to the obvious question. “I need to know - what’s with the…cowboy?” You gesture up and down, drawing a chuckle from him.

He blushes under the felt brim. “You know I have a slight accent, yeah?” You attempt to stifle your laugh as he incidentally talks in a thicker accent. “When I was a pledge they started calling me cowboy. Saw the hat while I was in town one week, ended up leaning into the joke.”

“And the hobby horse?”

He beckons you closer, bringing his lips to your ear. “Stolen from my little sister over summer break.”

There’s that wink again making your knees weak. He pushes his glasses back up his nose and takes another sip from his beer. Despite the party raging around you, nothing else seems to exist past him asking about your night and if you want another drink. You’re wrapped in the warmth of his words, itching to snuggle into his broad chest. 

The spell is broken when “Cowboy Bob!” rings out from the crowd. The entire room is turned to you two. “Truth or dare, man?”

In the background of your intimate conversation with Bob, the truths and dares have reached full raunchiness. People have been stripped of clothes and dirty secrets. A bead of sweat gathers at Bob’s collar, aware that neither option is safe. 

His worried gaze flits to you, as if you hold the correct answer, before tipping his hat back and exhaling, “Dare?” 

It’s gutsy, but if there’s one thing you’re learning about the quiet guy from Stats, he’s full of surprises. The crowd bubbles with excitement, anticipating what dare will be dealt out. Next to you, the wannabe cowboy looks more annoyed than anything. He was enjoying talking to you not in a classroom and with a little liquid courage.

An evil smile crosses the dare-dealer’s face. He knows Bob and isn’t blind to what’s going on. He’s gonna help his buddy out on this one.

His arm stretches out and he points (with the red plastic cup in his hand) to the coat closet at the end of the hall. “Hmmmmm, I dare you to, hmm, play Seven Minutes in Heaven with…” It’s no surprise when the cup-turned-pointer lands on you.

Ice water down your back wouldn’t be as panic inducing. It’s hard to tell who swallows harder, you or Cowboy Bob. Every instinct is telling you to run, but that little voice in the back of your head wins out. As Bob starts to tell you it’s okay, they’re joking, you don’t have to, you grab his thick wrist and give him a nervous smile. You don’t even care what the punishment is for not completing a dare, this stupid drunken game has given you an opportunity.

The dealer of the dare follows the two of you down the hallway, leading the whoops and wolf whistles. Bob’s cheeks flame scarlet in the low light. You keep your chin high and eyes forward. He can definitely feel the way you’re trembling around his wrist.

Whether in anxiety or excitement it’s hard to tell.

The inside of the closet is dark, the faint light under the door casting only the faintest of shadows. Your heart is pounding, blood pulsing through your ears. Bob rubs his lips together nervously. It’s all you can do to not run your tongue along them. 

“We don’t have to do anything, we can just talk.” The way he prioritizes your comfort makes heat pool between your legs. The brim of his hat is as far back as it can go, his eyes tracing the lines of your face as he gauges your emotions. He’s welcome to figure them out, you’re unsure of them yourself. 

His large, warm hand rubs your forearm comfortingly, your skin too cold without his touch. You’re suffocating under his sweat-and-bergamot scent, citrusy and warm.

You bite the bullet. “What if I want to?”

His breath stops. Fingers find yours in the dark, interlocking on either side of your hips. Eyes you know are the deepest blue lock onto your gaze, a million emotions passing behind his irises. Face descending upon the space between you, tentatively showing his intentions. You meet him in the middle, caution out the window.

The kiss is gentle, puzzle pieces slotting together for the first time. He tastes like malt sugar and peppermint. Mouth warm and soft, enveloping you fully in his comfort. It’s even better than what you’ve imagined for the past nine weeks.

Bob begins to pull away, ever the gentleman. Your hand finds his collar, holding him in place. “Not yet, we still have, like, five and a half minutes.”

Despite the low light, his smile lights up the closet.

His lips return to yours in a rush, swallowing your mouth in a passionate heat. The press of his body to yours is delicious. Hands previously at your side meet your hips, lightly squeezing as you moan into his mouth. You reach up and hold the back of his neck, bringing him even closer as your lips toy with the tiniest bit of stubble along his jaw.

“You know,” he starts, holding the moan in the back of his throat. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since September.”

You pull back momentarily, a crinkle upon your brow. “Bob, we didn’t start Stats until January.”

He kisses the confusion from your face, his hands wrapping further around your body. “And you looked very pretty in that green dress at the homecoming barbecue.”

Bless your love of school spirit and free food. “Why didn’t you? Kiss me?”

“I don’t normally make a habit of kissing girls I don’t know. And clearly it takes an entire fraternity for me to get you alone.” The way his chuckle bounces against your skin has you squirming. Your schoolgirl crush on him wasn’t one-sided, and suddenly you’re hot for teacher. 

You capture him in another kiss, tongue searching the seam of his lips for entrance. He obliges immediately, groaning as you explore his taste. Four hands roam skin, finding purchase in anything and everything. Your body has a mind of its own as you press against him, chest heaving with your passion. The right shift of fabric on fabric reveals that he’s equally as affected by the chemistry.

Reluctantly, he pulls away once more, threading his fingers across the back of your neck. Takes a moment to capture his breath as he sees the lust in your eyes. A deep breath. “As much as I like you, I don’t want to do anything if you’re drunk.”

Soft fingers follow the line of his arm to where it wraps around your waist. How is he this impossibly sweet? Thoughtful, respectful, and looking hot as sin with swollen lips. It’s unfair.

“I promise I’m not.” You stroke the back of his hand. “Please kiss me?”

His large hands unwrap from your waist and travel down, shifting behind your legs and pulling you up, resting your back against the wall. You tangle your legs around his waist as best you can in the small space, relishing his firm body pressed deliciously close, warm and solid. Kisses smeared across lips and jaws as noises crescendo. You’re panting as you trail down to his impossibly long neck, desperate to cover it in affection.

You’ve barely explored the expanse of skin when the door flies open, the boisterous party sounds flooding in. Reality strikes like a slap across the face. The truth-or-dare ringleader takes you in - legs wrapped around Bob and hands creeping toward your ass - and whoops in delight. Who knew Cowboy Bob had it in him!

“Time’s up, lovebirds!” He crows and reaches forward to slug Bob lightly on the shoulder. 

Not skipping a beat, Bob shoves his friend back and throws up his middle finger. “Fuck off, Milburn.” 

The closet door slams shut, blanketing you again in the intimacy of the moment. You’re looking at him with unsure eyes and he’s praying the moment hasn’t been ruined. He’s waited seven calendar months for this opportunity and his fingers are so close to enjoying the plump squeeze of your ass.

“We can go back to the party if you want?” Your voice is so small, nervous outside of those bold seven minutes. Tentative breaths exist between you. 

In lieu of an answer, he bows his head to give you a searing yet gentle kiss.

That cramped coat closet suddenly is an inferno, his tongue slipping inside your mouth and groaning at the burning sweetness of your taste. Your hands grip his shoulders as you fight for dominance, fingers tangling in denim. Hips brushing together, still clinging to the idea of this being innocent. 

An innocence immediately lost when Bob strikes up the courage and palms your ass. Soft and pliable and perfect to squeeze in his palms. He remembers the exact day you came to class in the tightest jeans known to man (laundry day) and the way he had dug his pencil in his palm to avoid a semi as your curved ass met the lecture seat. Something unavoidable now as you squirm against him, moaning your pleasure against the pulse in his neck.

Nothing has ever felt as good as rubbing against Bob Floyd’s clothed bulge. One glance down and you’re dizzy with arousal. Rutting yourself against him as best you can with your limited mobility, sloppy kisses exchanged as the two of you can barely keep your mouths closed. It feels so good, too good. 

Lost in the moment, one hand slips below the hem of your skirt, warm skin on skin. Any noise from outside the closet dims to a hum. Two hearts beating rapidly as desire fully consumes, directing lips to too hot exposed skin. You murmur your need in his ear. You don’t care where you are, you need him.

Bob tucks a finger under your thong, feeling the slick coating your folds. The whine that leaves him is desperate and gruff. He groans against your throat. “Shit, I don’t have a condom.”

Undeterred, your lip catches between your teeth, core muscles contracting as you grind your hips forward. “Doesn’t mean I can’t go for a ride.”

He’s immediately on board, teasing you briefly before extricating his hand to support you better against the wall. His hands practically swallow your ass, flooding you with lust. You thrust your chest against him, desperate to touch every spot on his handsome body as your hips begin to grind. 

His hands are sweltering as they trail down, effortlessly clutching the back of your thighs to give you leverage. Your clit finds friction against his jeans and your mouth hangs open as you buck frantically into him.

“Look at you move, cowgirl,” he breathes out, infatuated. The nickname spurrs you on, whimpering against his lips.

One hand clutching his bicep, holding on for desperate life, while the other snakes its way atop the damned cowboy hat that’s stayed on the entire encounter. Gripping the top of it and holding fast as you ride his clothed bulge with everything you’ve got. Denim and lace against your clit, rubbing deliciously as your brain fuzzes. His hot mouth focused at the hinge of your jaw, sucking soft bruises into the skin; moaning when you brush him just right. 

“I’m close,” you whisper against his cheek. Time has stood still, but it’s embarrassing how close he’s gotten you to orgasm with just his clothed cock and strong hands. 

He ruts his hips forward, meeting your thrusts in heavenly synchronization. You’re panting as the pressure on your clit catapults you, so close to the ultimate prize. Whispers of you can do it, cowgirl, cum for me, doing so good riding me, just a bit more, cowgirl fizzle your senses. 

“O-oh!”

It’s intense, the blinding pleasure coursing through your body. Prolonged by the thick bulge still rutting against you, ready to burst itself. Lips tickling your ear as he praises you. You want to live in this perfect moment of bliss. A moment only perfected when Bob’s fingers grip too hard and his hips stutter up into yours. His all-consuming orgasm only muffled by the skin of your shoulder as he rides it out. 

The rhythmic slowing of your breaths is all you can focus on. You breathe in, he breathes out. Small smiles and a blush barely visible in the low light. 

Delicately, like he knows you might break, he releases you back to the ground; taking his time to smooth down your skirt and straight out your top. Your own hands reach up to his chest, fixing the fabric that had bunched up in your passion. Adjusting his fogged glasses to look into his beautiful eyes.

It doesn’t matter how much you clean up, one look at you two and anyone would comment you’ve been ridden hard and put away wet.

With one final kiss to your lips, you feel something land on your head. The brown cowboy hat with the rip along the edge. Cowboy Bob showing off his cowgirl.

You tentatively open the closet door, eyes adjusting to the normal light. Painfully aware of the wet splotch on the obvious front of his jeans, Bob holds your body against him as a human shield. The party is still going strong - your antics have not interrupted anything - and you slip toward the front door without notice. Well…mostly, as a few wolf whistles reach your ears.

“It’s not that late, you want to go back to mine? I’m just off Thornton. It’s quiet since everyone is here.” His eyes are so hopeful in the dark night. So desperate for you to say yes. For you to be his cowgirl beyond tonight.

You wrap your arms around him and pull him close, careful to avoid the spot where your bodily fluids have drenched his jeans. “I’m in.” Your smile is blinding. “We have about nine weeks of Stats to make up.”

The brick is uncomfortable behind your back, but it’s hard to care when his lips feel so good. Broad shoulders shielding you from the hallway, trucker hat turned around and glasses in his pocket so there’s not an inch between your faces. Agreeing to meet outside before lecture was such a good idea.

Despite spending most of the time between Thursday night and Tuesday afternoon in Bob’s apartment trying every position in the book (with teasing hollers from his Pi Kapp roommates adding to the soundtrack) you can’t help but steal these five minutes. He looks so cute, to not kiss him would be a crime.

Bob squeezes your hips, lips trailing down your jaw. “What’s on your mind, cowgirl?”

“I’m trying very hard to convince myself that we pay a lot of money to attend this school and should go learn about statistics. Even though I really only want to head back to my dorm and see how sturdy that loft bed is.”

From where his nose traces your ear, a guttural whine leaves him. “You can’t say something like that and expect me to go to class.”

You pull back to look at him, fingers tickling the close cropped hair at his neck. God, he makes it so hard to want to be responsible.

“Let’s make a deal, okay? We’ll go to class, learn, and tonight you come over and for every study guide question you get right I’ll take off a piece of clothing. Sound good?” He’s practically panting as he smothers your mouth in another kiss. He’s really good at Stats. A steady stream of students files past Bob’s back, a sign that class is about to start.

You press another kiss to his lips. “Let’s go or we’ll miss out on seats. Plus I need to dig through my bag for a pencil.”

“Do you think you actually have one today?” He smirks, amused. The eighteen pencils he’s lent you say otherwise.

Your cheeks are hot under where he kisses them. “Uh…if I don’t can I borrow one? If you have one, that is.”

He lets out a soft chuckle and holds you closer, rubbing your noses softly.

“You do realize I’ve been buying pencils all semester just to give to you, right?”

Turning his cap around - insides fully melted - you know you’re in this rodeo for the long run.

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[steddiealltheway]

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. 

Steve's knee bounces up and down as he stares at Eddie's near-lifeless form. He doesn't know how long he's been here, memories flashing through his head that he's tried to will away. But it's hard when he knows that this is all his fault. 

He's the reason Eddie's in this hospital bed. 

-:-:-:- 

Steve bounced his leg to the beat that pierced through the trailer. He smiled at Eddie who laughed manically over the crazy-sounding song. 

Eddie turned the knob down slightly and yelled over the music, "You don't have to pretend to like this!" 

Steve just shook his head. "Turn it up louder. I like the way it clears my thoughts." 

Eddie cranked the knob even higher and jumped on his mattress, jostling Steve who just laughed in response and stood up to join Eddie in some crazy dance. 

For once, Steve felt free. He wasn't supposed to be enjoying this. Hell, he wasn't even supposed to be here. But he came up with excuses as he wrapped his arms around Eddie's shoulders, slotting them closer together. 

That's why he was there, right? He needed to play the game Eddie didn't know about. 

-:-:-:- 

"Steve." 

He's shaken out of his thoughts by Robin's hand on his shoulder. He glances at her momentarily before looking back at Eddie. He can't let him out of his sight. 

"Steve, you need to eat. Even his uncle has taken a break from watching over him." 

Steve knows that Robin's confused, he can hear it in her voice. Maybe it's time he finally told her but first, "Please, let me wait until someone else can watch over him." 

"Dustin's in the hall. The hospital is still standing by their two visitors at a time policy, but he can watch over him while you eat." 

Steve's eyes don't leave Eddie's chest which slowly moves up and down. "Why can't we eat in the room?" 

Robin moves to kneel down in front of him. "Steve, you have to leave this room, okay? You need to shower and rest and eat and breathe fresh air. Please, we're all so worried about you. Dustin's already partially lost Eddie, we can't lose you, too." 

Steve pries his eyes away to look at Robin. He nods. He can feel a small ache in the pit of his stomach and a heavy pull on his eyelids. "I need to tell you something." 

Robin grabs his hands nodding. He's not sure when she started crying, but a slow tear rolls down her face following a trail of already smeared mascara. Steve quietly says, "This is all my fault. I'm the reason he's here." He feels his bottom lip quiver before he fully breaks, his loud sobs joining in with the steady beeping of the monitor. 

Robin stands and pulls him out of the chair, letting him bury his head into her shoulder. "It's not your fault the bats got him, Steve. It's not your fault." 

"Y-You don't understand," Steve sobs out as Robin pulls him in tighter. 

-:-:-:- 

Steve's lip quivered as he gripped onto Eddie's shoulders tightly. "I'm so sorry." 

Eddie shook his head as he stared at him blinking, still slightly panting. "I don't understand." 

Of course he didn't understand. He didn't know the terrible thing he was doing. Steve knew this was it. He needed to leave. 

Forever. 

-:-:-:- 

The hospital halls are bright, and the sun is even brighter. Everything is brighter than Steve remembers. It doesn't feel right. 

Robin manages to get him to his home, shoving him into the bathroom with a towel and a stack of clothes. After he gets out, she hands him fresh bandages and his prescribed ointment for the damn bat wounds. 

She manages to convince him to eat a few bites of a grilled cheese she made along with some tomato soup she found in his pantry. Steve eats on autopilot while Robin sits next to him on his couch, eating in silence. 

When Steve finishes half his sandwich, he puts his tray down on his coffee table and turns to Robin. "Do you promise not to hate me after I tell you this? 

Robin chews as a line forms between her eyebrows. She swallows but pauses for a few seconds. "I'm your best friend. I'm going to love you no matter what." 

"You don't understand," Steve says shaking his head, "There's a reason I never told you this before." 

"Told me what?" Robin prompts. 

Steve swallows. "At the beginning of junior year, Tommy and Carol had heard some rumor that senior Eddie Munson was gay. And for some reason, I couldn't let the idea go. So, I suggested that we should play a prank on him... And that I should..." He sighs and puts his head in his hands. 

Robin's hand trails over his back. 

Steve continues in a rush, "I told them I should pretend to be into him." 

Robin's hand freezes on his back, and Steve hears her slightly gasp. 

Steve looks up at her. "That isn't even the worst part." 

-:-:-:- 

Steve smirked when he saw Eddie in the back of his English class scribbling something in his notebook. He had crafted a plan at lunch the day before with Tommy and Carol. It would be easy. 

Steve made his way to the back of the classroom and sat next to Eddie, making a show of digging through his backpack and not being able to find something. He looked up at Eddie and smiled politely. "You wouldn't happen to have a pencil would you?" 

Eddie stared at him with a mixture of disbelief and shock at the concept of Steve Harrington acknowledging him. He glanced down at his notebook and stared at it as if he was apologizing to it. Then, Eddie handed him the pencil out of his hand. 

Steve winked as he said, "Thanks." 

The other boy didn't say anything, he just nodded. 

Steve noticed that he didn't reach for his bag for another pencil as more people filtered into the room. Steve leaned across the way and quietly asked, "Don't you have another one?" 

Eddie shook his head. "I don't really take notes. Just sketch or plan stuff." 

"He speaks," Steve said with a big smile. "What are those sketches?" 

Eddie shifted in his seat and looked Steve up and down before turning his sketches his way. "Creatures and shit from Dungeons and Dragons." 

Honestly, they looked really cool. Steve didn't know that people could actually draw like that. His friends were always more athletic than artistic. "That's really cool," Steve said genuinely. 

"Thanks," Eddie breathed out, turning the book back toward himself as if he were trying to hide it. 

Steve stared at him for a few seconds before he handed his pencil back. 

"Are you sure you don't need it?" Eddie asked, hesitating to take it back. 

Steve nodded, digging into the pouch where he kept several pencils. "I'm sure," he said with another big smile before leaning across the aisle again. "You should show me more of your drawings sometime. And hey, it's Eddie, right?" 

Eddie's eyebrows furrowed as he nodded. "Yeah." 

Steve stuck out his hand and introduced himself, "Steve." 

"I know," Eddie replied but he shook his hand nonetheless. 

Steve ignored the way the touch made him feel like he suddenly couldn't breathe. Instead, he focused on the way he had already made progress in his game. 

-:-:-:- 

"Okay, so you flirted with him a little and led him on a bit." 

"No," Steve insists, "It was more than just the classroom interactions. I went full-on crazy. I would watch him at lunch and make sure he knew that I was watching. I even changed my route to class to make sure I would bump into him in the hallway. Hell, I went as far as to try to change my locker so it was closer to his." In hindsight, he should've known that was going too far. But in the moment, it felt like he needed to get as close as possible to Eddie Munson. 

Robin shifts to tuck her knees to her chest. She looks at him carefully as she asks, "Did you... enjoy seeing him?" 

Steve shrugs, not sure what she's getting at. 

Robin only frowns slightly before leaning in closer and lowering her voice. "I mean, did you have a crush on him." 

"No," Steve says immediately, feeling the same guard come up as it always does when he asks himself the question. Or when someone else has asked him that question... 

-:-:-:- 

"I swear you like the queer or something," Tommy sneered at the lunch table as Carol laughed loudly. 

Steve pulled his eyes away from Eddie and firmly stated, "It's not like that." 

"Really? Because you're looking at him like you want to sample whatever the freak will give you." 

Steve's hands flexed under the table. He didn't know why he was so angry at the accusation. "It's not like that," Steve repeated lowly.  

"Why are you getting so defensive?" Carol asked with a twisted grin. 

He knew they were trying to get under his skin about it, and as much as he didn't want to let them know they got to him, he couldn't stand what they were implying. "Fuck you," he said and stormed out of the cafeteria. He could hear Tommy’s and Carol's grating laughter as he left, furthering his damn anger.  

He stormed into the bathroom and checked that all the stalls were clear before he sat on the nasty floor and put his head in his hands. 

He didn't know why the question got to him so much because it really wasn’t like that. He didn't like Munson. The whole point of getting closer to him was to trick Munson into liking him. 

He started to think that maybe that wasn't so funny anymore. 

The door to the bathroom opened and shut quickly, a lock twisted and closed Steve in with whoever came in. 

He slowly looked up, embarrassed by being caught in this state, but he became even more so when he saw it was Eddie who had followed him. 

"You okay?" Eddie's asked gently, keeping his distance. 

Steve sighed and leaned his head back against the wall, staring at the ceiling. "My friends are assholes." 

Eddie snorted in response which caught Steve off-guard. "Sorry," Eddie said with a smile, "It's just that everyone knows that. Or maybe I just especially know that." 

"Then why are you here?" Steve asked, but the question sounded a little too harsh even to him. 

Eddie shrugged then walked over to Steve and slid down the bathroom wall to join him on the floor. "You've been uncharacteristically kind to me these past few weeks. I couldn't be sure that you weren't in a hostage situation," he joked.  

Steve was surprised to find that the joke put him at ease and even made him smile. He smiled further when he saw the way Eddie relished the fact that he cheered him up. 

"Hey," Eddie said as he scooted closer to him. "I've got this secret lunch spot where I usually deal, but it's also great if you need a space away from people. I can show it to you tomorrow." 

Steve's heart thudded a little harder in his chest at the suggestion, filled with nerves and excitement at the thought of spending actual alone time with Eddie. "I'd really like that." 

-:-:-:- 

Steve sighs and looks at Robin who he knows would love and support him no matter what feelings he confesses. He breathes out, "Maybe I did like him like that." 

Robin gives him a sad smile and rests her hand on his.  

"He and I would eat lunch together every Tuesday and Thursday in this little spot in the woods that had a picnic bench and everything. And I started looking forward to those days and when I would pass him in the hall and our class together. God, I just wanted to be around him all the time. He was like my best friend at the time."  

"So, what happened?" 

Steve pinches his lips together and shakes his head. "I kept leading him on. I would report things to Tommy and Carol and they would laugh at him and call him so many damn names. God, then it spread to the whole basketball team because Tommy can't shut his damn mouth. And they'd do shit like high-five me in the hall. They told me I was doing God's work by making sure Eddie's attention was only on me." 

"God, they're such assholes." 

Steve nods in agreement and adds, "So am I." 

"You've changed, Steve." 

Steve shakes his head. "I don't know, Robin." 

-:-:-:- 

Steve felt high out of his mind lying in Eddie's bed with their fingers intertwined. Only when he was high, he felt like he could touch him like this. He didn't want it to go any further. More like, he was scared of it going any further because he wouldn't know what that meant. 

Eddie's head turned to him - his lips only a short distance away from Steve's. He was starting to notice these things more and more around the boy. 

"You're different," Eddie commented. 

Steve laughed and rolled on his side. "How?" 

"Different from anyone I've ever met. Nothing like your asshole friends." 

Steve's smile fell from his face at the comment. He was exactly like them; Eddie just didn't know it. 

"Why me?" Eddie asked. 

Steve glanced up at him. "What do you mean?" 

Eddie rolled on his side, shifting even closer to Steve. "Why did you choose to be nice to me? It felt so damn random especially after you practically never looked at me before." 

Steve's mouth opened and closed, unsure how to answer. Instead, he opted out and replied, "I don't know." 

"Well, I'm glad you noticed me. I don't know what I would do without you at this point." 

"Me neither," Steve replied honestly. 

-:-:-:- 

"I never told him," Steve says, feeling his bottom lip quiver. "God, I wanted to tell him the truth, but I couldn't." 

Robin nods. “I don’t blame you, that’s a hard thing to explain to someone.” When Steve doesn’t reply, she presses on, "So, what else happened?" 

Steve runs both hands over his face and leans back against the couch, unable to look at Robin anymore. "It was a few weeks before Halloween, so I had been leading him on for two months at that point. We were hanging out almost every day. I almost spent the night sometimes because I was over so late just talking to him. But I never let myself. I knew if I stayed once, I would stay every night if I could. " 

"It sounds like you were just being friendly to him. I don't know how he could have misinterpreted it," Robin reasons. 

Steve shakes his head. "I wasn't just friendly. I would blatantly flirt sometimes. Shit, I used to leave notes in his locker sometimes and whenever we were alone, I would usually initiate some contact like holding his hand. But when it was late, and I could excuse the touchiness as a form of sleep deprivation, I would lay in bed with him, and we would just stare at each other. Sometimes, I let my hands wander in his hair, over his face, down his arms basically anywhere he'd let me." 

Robin lets a deep breath out and pauses before asking, "Did you ever do more than that?" 

Steve shakes his head but pinches his nose sharply. He has to own up to it. "Fuck," he sighs burying his head in his hands. "Yes, we did more than that but only one time." 

-:-:-:- 

Steve didn't remember why he was laughing; Eddie just kind of pulled it out of him at times. Besides, it was also late, and they both tended to get a bit giggly during the early AMs. 

Eddie stopped laughing suddenly, so Steve turned to him and asked, "What?" 

Eddie just shook his head in response and turned to stare at the ceiling looking suddenly stoic. 

Steve rolled onto his side and propped himself up on his arm to stare down at Eddie. "Come on, tell me what's going on in that pretty little head of yours." 

Eddie looked him directly in the eye and said, "That." 

Steve shook his head and tried not to stare at Eddie's lips. 

"You," Eddie tried again. "Do you mean what you say?" 

Steve's heart thudded in his chest. "I don't know what you mean," he lied. 

Eddie's hand shook as it made its way up to cup his cheek. "Yes, you do. Just tell me if I'm reading this wrong." 

He was reading it absolutely wrong, but fuck, he was reading him absolutely right. So, Steve didn't think. He just leaned down and gently kissed Eddie before he pulled back with a shaky breath to say, "You're not reading this wrong." 

Eddie pulled him in again, kissing him. Steve groaned into the kiss, feeling lightning practically spread through his body at the sensation. God, it felt so damn right. 

Steve quickly moved until his body was on top of Eddie's pressing into him at all the right places as they both deepened the kiss. Steve knew he wasn't supposed to be enjoying it, but he pushed the thought and guilt away.  

-:-:-:- 

Steve wipes the tear away from his cheek and takes a deep breath. "I wasn't thinking. And I made it so much worse." 

"Shit," Robin whispers, hugging her knees tightly. 

"After, I freaked the fuck out. I had this whole breakdown, and Eddie was trying so hard to understand. He thought I was just having this sexuality crisis, which I admittedly was, but I was mainly concerned about if Eddie ever found out if it was all a damn joke." 

"It wasn't a joke to either of you, Steve. You would've never gone that far if it was," Robin insists, hand landing gently on Steve's shoulder. 

Steve flinches away from her. "But it was all rooted in a joke." 

"Fuck," Robin says with wide eyes, "Steve, please tell me you didn't tell Tommy or anyone." 

In his heart, he knows that's the only good decision he made. "I didn't." 

Robin breathes a sigh of relief. "Thank god." 

"But what I did was maybe worse in hindsight." 

"How?" Robin asks, sounding horrified. 

-:-:-:- 

Steve walked through the halls on autopilot. He couldn't get any sleep the night before. It felt damn near impossible after his night with Eddie. 

"Steve buddy!" Tommy said loudly, clapping a rough hand on his back. "How's the freak treating you?" 

Steve shook his head and said, "It's over." 

Tommy walked in front of him and stopped him. "Woah there. You look like you've seen a damn ghost or something. What did the freak do to you? Did he try to kiss you or some shit?" Tommy asked with a sick smile on his face. 

"No," Steve stated and looked around the halls before he leaned in and said, "But I found out he's a Satanist. Like he does full-on rituals and shit." 

"No fucking way!" Tommy yelled excitedly, ready to spread the rumor like wildfire.  

"Yeah," Steve said. "I don't think he's queer though." 

"I'm surprised," Tommy laughed. "He looks at you like you're his bitch sometimes."  

"Just into Satanic shit," Steve insisted. 

Tommy got a wild look in his eye. "Maybe we should include that in the basketball hazing this year. First student to witness one of his rituals gets a damn prize." 

"Sure," Steve shrugged it off. "Bet it would scare that new guy Jason shitless." 

-:-:-:- 

"Oh fuck," Robin says, putting her hands over her mouth in shock. 

"I practically started the whole fucking manhunt with that damn rumor. I just thought it wouldn't be as bad as people finding out he was gay. And I somehow thought it would convince people that nothing happened between me and him," Steve confesses. 

"Okay," Robin says, staring off into space before shifting on the couch toward Steve. "Okay, you didn't start the manhunt. And Tommy's the one who spread the rumor, and Jason is the one who took it too far." 

"But Eddie would've graduated senior year if it wasn't for me." 

Robin's brows furrow as she shakes her head. "Wait what? How's that related?" 

Steve runs a hand through his hair. "I ended things the day the rumor spread. But I was such a fucking asshole about it, Robin. God, you're going to hate me." 

"Why would I hate you?" 

"Because it was a Tuesday. And instead of joining Eddie outside, I stayed with Tommy and Carol, looking around to find some girl to use to get over Eddie. Then, I spotted a girl with curly hair and big eyes that reminded me of him..." 

"Nancy," Robin fills in for him. 

Steve nods. "She was my fucking rebound." 

-:-:-:- 

Steve didn't eat lunch that day. He wasn't hungry. He felt fucking sick to his stomach as he looked around the cafeteria, wondering if Eddie would walk in at any moment looking for him. 

His eyes caught on curly hair, but realized it was too light to belong to Eddie. He leaned to the side and caught eyes with Nancy Wheeler. He shot her a wink before going back to pushing his food around his tray. It didn't make him feel better. 

In his last class with Eddie, he sat at the very front of the room, hating the view from there and the way people kept staring at his obvious seat change. He ducked his head when Eddie walked in late and took his seat in the back. 

He didn't take a single note that day. He could feel Eddie's eyes practically burn holes in the back of his head. 

The bell was the only thing that gave Steve relief that day, and he basically sprinted his way out of the building to his car. But he cursed as he dug around his backpack unable to find his damn keys. 

"Dropped these," Eddie's voice said behind him. 

Steve turned to him slowly and didn't make eye contact as he reached for the keys. 

Eddie snatched them back. "Why are you being weird? Is this because of what happened last night?" 

"Nothing happened last night," Steve insisted, lowering his voice so no one could hear him. 

Eddie's pained expression broke Steve's heart immediately. "Nothing?" 

"Nothing," Steve repeated. "And nothing will ever happen again, got it?" 

"Steve-" 

"I'm doing this for you," Steve lied. 

Eddie saw right through him as he always did. "No, you're fucking not." 

"Eddie-" 

"Is this freak bothering you, Steve?" Tommy said, suddenly rushing to his side. 

"No, I was just leaving," Eddie said, turning to stalk away. 

Tommy snorted at the sight and leaned into Steve's side to ask, "You're sure he's not gay?" 

"Shut up, Tommy," Steve said, pinching his nose as he got into his car. 

-:-:-:- 

"He started skipping classes after that. Shit, I practically never saw him in our English class. And he started taking a different route in the halls. God, I missed him so fucking bad." Steve looks down at his hands, flexing in anger at his past mistakes. "He skipped so often that they made him repeat senior year. The next year, we saw each other once when I was with Nancy, and after that it was like I never saw him again. Once again, he skipped and failed. If he would've graduated when he was supposed to, he wouldn't be in this damn mess. Fuck, he would still be alive." 

"He's still alive, Steve." 

Steve snaps, "Is he really? The doctor told us that he may never wake up, Robin. What if he never wakes up? What if I can never tell him this?" A small part of Steve wonders what would happen if he did wake up. Would he actually tell him? 

Steve shakes his head. He doesn't know, but he knows he can't lose him again. It hurt so damn much the first time; he couldn't do it again. "You know how I always say I have no idea what I want?" 

Robin nods. 

"I've lied. I know exactly what I want, and he's laying in that damn hospital bed. I thought maybe I could find someone like him, but I can't Robin. No matter how many dates I go on, no one is like Eddie." 

Robin moves closer to him and wraps her arms around him. 

Steve feels more tears trail down his face as he leans into Robin. "You know, in the upside down, he gave me this bullshit speech about how I've changed, and I'm actually a good dude. Then, he told me something about how I should get Nancy back and it was like a damn dagger in my heart. He told me that she dove right into that water and he wouldn't have done the same in normal circumstances. As if he was trying to tell me that I was right to choose Nancy over him. It's such bullshit." 

Robin doesn't say anything, just pulls him in tighter. 

"He has to wake up, Robin. He has to," Steve wipes his eyes and stands up. "But we have to get back to that hospital, okay? I'll tell you eventually why I can't leave his side, but I just can't today." 

Robin nods and stands up. "Let's go then." 

-:-:-:- 

"If you died today, would you have regrets?" 

Steve laughed. "That's such a random question." 

Eddie smiled up at him. "Come on, answer the question." 

Steve knew that he would have too many regrets to ever be able to list. But he asked, "Would I die right here, right now?" 

Eddie shrugged. "Sure." 

"If I died with you at my side, then I think I would have no regrets. What about you?" 

Eddie smiled up at him sincerely, considering the question for a few moments. "As long as you were by my side, I would be okay." 

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fic #stranger things #robin buckley

[me-loving-woso]

Bruises, Apologies and Cookies?

You already know the drill. I don't know what this is. It took me a month to do it and it's not proofread. It's 17k and you have to imagine this as an AU in which Jorge Vilda is not the coach of Spain, but it's in therapy for his misogynistic tendencies and anger issues, and the Italian national team is actually a good team. I really hope you enjoy this.

Prompt: You start to hook up with Alexia, but then you realise you aren't meant to play against one another. (I'm bad at summaries.)

Here is Part 2

-

You were traveling to Barcelona today.

Your team and the Barca team had organized the game for the Gamper trophy, and you couldn’t wait to play against your dream team. Barcelona and Chelsea have always been the team you supported when you were young, even though you were neither Spanish nor English.

You have always loved playing football since you were little. And the fact that you were raised in Italy and were Italian, one of the best countries to experience football, made your love for the sport grow even more. But you knew you couldn’t go far in your country because women’s soccer wasn’t very developed in Italy, so as soon as possible, you decided to leave for the US. There, you studied to become a physiotherapist and played ‘soccer.’

You weren’t known for your speed or physicality but your football IQ and passes. At first, your coach put you as a striker, but then he soon realized that scoring wasn’t your forte. But when one of your teammates in midfield got injured, your coach put you as a defensive midfielder, and the rest was history.

You would control the midfield and give confidence and calmness to the defenders and midfielders; you had a style that reminded people of Busquets.

In college, you met your best friend, who was also Italian. She was your number 1 supporter; she would always come to your games, cheer for you, and support you even when you transferred to your first real club, Atletico Madrid. 

To the world, you were known as one of the cleanest players in La Liga, your timing was always perfect when you tackled someone, and you were able to anticipate the player’s moves so well that, in most cases, you didn’t even have to tackle them, you would snatch the ball away from them before they could pass it to someone else.

This made you one of the only players to never receive a yellow card for a foul. You only received one when you took off your shirt for scoring the winning goal for the Copa de la Reina.

After two outstanding seasons at Atletico, Chelsea called you, but not even after a year did you send in a transfer request, which you never did; you always waited for your contract to finish.

After a disastrous year at Chelsea, you wanted to go back home to Italy, and two clubs from your country showed interest. Roma and Juventus. You never supported Juventus as a child, so the decision was a no-brainer for you. You were back home, playing for a great team and sharing the pitch with your friends from the national team. You signed a contract until 2024, and you would respect it, even though you received many offers from other clubs, one in particular being Barcelona. But whenever the coach of Barca called, you told him about your wish to finish the season with Roma; they respected your decision and said they would try to get you during the summer window.

-

This left you playing the Joan Gamper trophy against your dream team, and you got the impossible task of marking Alexia Putellas. It was the first time that you were playing against her. Over the years, you had the opportunity to play against her, but between injuries or other stuff, you never managed to do that. So you were looking forward to it. 

During the warm-up, you found yourself stealing glances at her; she was even more beautiful in real life. As you saw her train, you tried to find a way in which you could stop her. She was quick, physical, and loved going deep. So the only way to possibly stop her was to anticipate her and not let the ball go over you to her or stop her before she could pass you. You loved a good challenge.

As soon as the game started, Barcelona came at your defense hard, but you wouldn’t let the ball go past you. As soon as you had the ball, you would pass it to one of your teammates or opt for a long pass if your number 9 was free.

Even though you were extremely clean in your tackles and respectful, you were famous for cursing in Italian whenever you had to run; you hated running, and whenever you would recover a ball, you would subtly celebrate in your opponent’s face. You were very competitive in that sense, and you knew that not many opponents went past you, so this furthered, even more, your competitiveness.

In the first minutes of the game, as you analyzed your opponent’s playing style, you realized nobody would dare to move the ball through the center; they knew they wouldn’t get past you, and you smirked at that realization.

The first time you had to mark Alexia was an offside kick for Barcelona; you shielded her with your hands, not making her move. You were shorter than her; you reached her shoulders, so you knew she could physically overwhelm you well enough, so you had to find another way to stop her. She was brilliant when playing. She could see the spaces and know exactly where to place the ball to her teammates, so you knew that distracting her even a second would help you anticipate her and stop her from going forward. 

As she was trying to unmark herself from you, you wanted to distract her by talking in Spanish, “They always call you La Reina because of your skills, and now that I’ve seen you in action, I can confirm that you live up to that nickname.” She slightly blushes.

“It’s not bad having someone like you watching me destroy your team.” She pushes you slightly to show her teammates that she is free. “I must say, though, that you look pretty good out in the field.”

Now it’s your time to blush; you turn your head to face her quickly, turning your neck upwards to look at her hazel eyes, “Flattery won’t get you past me.” You wink. “But I won’t tell you to stop; I like where this is going.”

Her teammates kick the ball, which makes you both go back into game mode.

The second time you talked to her, it was during a corner. They were using her as a decoy to make your team change the positions on the corner kick, but you soon realized that, and you went to mark her “You know, I think I’m actually enjoying this game more because I’m playing against you.”

“Is that so? I’m glad you are enjoying this. But don’t think I don’t know you are trying to distract me.”

“Me? I would never distract you in any way!” You act offended, putting your hand on your heart.

“Then you are secretly trying to win my heart.” She smirks, taking her eyes off the ball and looking at yours.

“Well, if winning your heart gets me a victory on the field, consider it a strategic move.” You remark, grinning as you see the captain of the other team a fraction of a second distracted, making the ball perfectly fall into your feet.

With a calculated movement, you dribble past her while she gives you a shocked look and sends a perfect ball to your teammate, who starts the counterattack. Nobody was expecting that, so your number nine, Giacinti, ran all the length of the pitch without any dangerous opponents, leaving her only with Paños. She scored, and you were finally 1-1.

As soon as she scored, you could see that Alexia’s expression changed sorrowfully as she blamed herself for the goal while you screamed, running to your teammate who had just scored.

As soon as you get on your field to restart the match, you walk past her, and she shakes her head sarcastically, “I thought I was good at playing mind games, but you, you’re on a whole new level.”

She walked past you, “Mind games? Nah, I’m just enjoying the company of a certain someone on the field.” You remark innocently.

After 45 minutes of intense battle between you and Alexia, in which you basically won all of them, Alexia became increasingly irritated. She was getting more sloppy and aggressive, but you expected that, so whenever you had the ball or just snatched it from her, you would pass it to one of your teammates as soon as possible.

The first half of the game ended, and you returned to the dressing room. You were still on a draw, so you only needed a goal to shock Spain and win the Gamper trophy, which was your objective. So during the break, you strategized ways to score that damn goal. After the 15-minute break, you returned to the pitch and knew what to do.

Roma was starting the second half. Giacinti passed you the ball from the center of the pitch immediately after the whistle, and she began her run. You stopped the ball and kicked it high, precisely where she needed it. She had only to dribble past Ona Batlle to score and did it perfectly. 

For now, you were winning, and you could see that Barcelona was getting even more frustrated. They needed to win that trophy; it was their trophy. 

You again found yourself in the same position as the corner kick-off. Alexia was outside the area, and you were marking her again. “If you get past me, I’ll let you swap shirts.” You smirk arrogantly. 

“You’ll let me?” She chuckles ironically, not making the same mistake and, this time, focusing on the ball.

“Yes, I’ll let you.” You wink at her, putting your arm on her chest, trying to put yourself in front of her. You swear you could hear her heart beat a little faster.

“Are you sure you are okay? I swear I could hear your heart beat faster.” You tease her.

She blushes, forcefully removing your arm from her, “You are making it really hard for me to focus, and it’s not just because of the game.”

“Oh really? Maybe I’m just trying to give you a good reason to remember this match and me.”

“You wish.”

“Joking aside, do you wanna swap shirts after the match?” You quickly glance at her.

“You’ll get to see my shirt every day next season.” She raises her eyebrow knowingly.

“Wait, you know?”

“Of course, I know; I was the one that suggested you to the coach.”

“Really?” You smile dumbly at her, a mistake nearly costing you a goal. She manages to get the ball and throws a beautiful cross, which thankfully was stopped by your defender Linari. You sigh in relief and get back to the game. 

The game was getting more and more aggressive as time was running out. You didn’t know how, but you were still winning. As you were waiting to intercept a long pass from your ex-teammate from Atletico, Mapi Leon, Alexia was trying to anticipate it.

You managed to quickly control the ball, and with your first touch, you passed it to Giugliano. Still, she didn’t see that you already had given the ball away because she raised her knee to try to control the ball, but there was no ball to control. Instead, she hit you where it would hurt the most: right on your groin. It hurt. It really hurt. You wouldn’t expect it to hurt that much when you were a girl, but it did hurt. So much so that you skipped a breath and mumbled in your mother language words that you wouldn’t repeat. The game was still ongoing, but you needed a minute, and Alexia noticed that. 

“Hey, are you okay?” She asks worriedly, putting your hand on your shoulder while you are crouching down.

“Alexia, you didn’t hit the ball. And you got a powerful leg, I must say.” You sit down on the grass, visibly in pain. Your captain, Bartoli, noticed that, and she soon stopped the game and went to you.

“Tutto bene?”

“Si mi serve solo un secondo, questa qui- pointing to Alexia- mi ha dato un calcio.”

“Dove?”

“Nella figa,” You say, putting your hands over your head while your skipper laughs.

“Cazzo ti ridi.” You say, laughing too at the situation. Then, some of your teammates swarmed you, pushing Alexia away, who took a step back embarrassingly.

As your skipper told everyone what happened, some other teammates started laughing, making the tension of the match crack. You show the finger to all the teammates who laughed at you, still in pain. 

“Riesci ad andare avanti?” The defender asks you, trying to keep a straight face.

“Si, si dammi solo un minuto, andate pure.” Your teammates slowly return to their positions, and Alexia approaches you. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t think I hit you that hard.” She gives out a hand for you to grab to help you stand up to your feet.

“Don’t worry about it. It has always been a dream of mine for a hot woman to hit me on the groin.” You chuckle sarcastically, clearly not understanding what you have just said.

“You think I’m hot?” She grins while you clean off the dirt from your shirts.

“So not the point.” You say while returning back to your position. 

The match went on more fluidly, with your team more defending rather than attacking; you unconsciously avoided Alexia all game, swapping marks with one of your teammates for Aitana, which wasn’t at all that better, but at least she didn’t make you feel all hot and confused as the captain of the other team did. Eventually, you did lose the game, 3 to 2, but you thought this was a great way to begin the season.

As you went into the dressing room to get ready for a night out with your friend, you heard the cleats of a person behind you. You turn around, and your body winces, reminding you of the pain that you experienced earlier.

“Hey!” She walks up to you, still dressed from the match.

“Hey.” You reply awkwardly.

“Soo.” She crosses her arms and begins rocking her legs. “You said that if I got past you, you would swap shirts with me.” She smiles innocently, waiting for your reply.

“Well, that was before you made me lose the capacity to have children.” You say dramatically.

“Okay, that’s a little too dramatic. I didn’t mean to hurt you; I honestly thought that I was hitting the ball.” She says sorrowfully, looking down.

“Well, you didn’t.” You chuckle. Making her laugh.

“What were your teammates laughing about earlier?”

“I just told them what had happened. I would have laughed too if I wasn’t in so much pain.”

“Why would you? You were hurt!” She returns her gaze to you while you give her a shy smile.

“Well, you would laugh too if someone like Leo Messi would hit you in the groin like that. Even though I deeply doubt it.”

“So you think I’d have a future as a kickboxer?”

“Definitely.” You beam at her, clearly entranced by her. She was slightly biting her lips in an attempt to shy a smile; you thought to yourself that she had really gorgeous eyes. 

“So the jersey…” She suggests clearly understanding that you were slightly zoned out. You blush, a little embarrassed, and take off your shirt quickly, folding it, and then you hand it to her. 

“It’s a little dirty; I’m sorry.”

“You just ran on the pitch for over 90 minutes; you don’t have to apologize.” She takes it from you as her fingers lightly brush yours. What you noticed was that her hands were warm. It felt weird to you, as most people in your life had cold or sweaty hands, which you hated, but hers were different. They exuded this feeling of comfort that made you miss her touch as soon as she took the jersey from you.

You blink once, trying to return to the real world, waiting for her shirt. 

“Am I going back to Roma empty-handed?” You joke, while she was most definitely not looking at you in the eyes but more at your body, making you feel a little self-conscious.

“Oops, sorry.” She quickly removes her jersey, but as she is about to remove it, she stops, “Now this is embarrassing. I’m stuck.”

You chuckle, standing on your tippy toes, “Can I help you?”

“Yes, please.” You raise your hands, take the hem of her shirt, and pull it up; as soon as her head is free, her eyes lock in with yours, making you gulp slightly at the intense eye contact, lowering your feet, clearly showing the prominent height difference.

“Thank you.” She whispers, never taking her eyes off you. Your mind was getting hazier for every blink of your eyes, and you felt your cheeks redden. You thought you needed to take a step back to recompose yourself and clear that haze in your brain, but something about how she looked at you made you not move for even an inch. “How long are you staying in Barcelona?”

“Tomorrow, we are leaving.” You tell her truthfully without thinking, nor blinking, for that matter.

“What are you doing tonight?” She asks you seriously, moving her gaze dangerously close to your lips.

“I’m going out with Mapi and some of your teammates. We wanted to catch up, and she wanted me to meet some of you guys and her girlfriend.” You say, never moving your gaze from her; you couldn’t.

“ISo we’ll see each other there. And after that?” Her expression exuded an energy that you couldn’t quite understand

“What?”

“What are you doing after that?” She speaks more clearly, enunciating every word.

“I’ll probably go back to the hotel and sleep.” You reply honestly.

“I want to make it up to you. Will you let me do that?” She asks shyly, softening her gaze a little.

You, dumb as you are, don’t get what she was suggesting, making you, for the first time, take your eyes off hers and look down, which uncoincidentally was her chest. Still, right now, it doesn’t concern you that much. “You don’t have to; I know it wasn’t on purpose.” You reply innocently.

What actually concerned you was how nonchalantly, with her index finger, she gently raised your chin, making you look at her again, making you want to giggle from the nervousness.

“Are you sure?” She smirks, clearly understanding the effect that she was having on you.

The following words were some of the most honest words that ever came out of your mouth. “No, I’m not sure.”

She chuckles, “Give me your phone.” She tells you rather than ask you, making you once again be sure about your sexuality.

“It’s in the locker room.”

“Go get it.” She instructs you while she leans against the wall, still shirtless. She clearly knew what she was doing and why she was doing it.

You reply with a short nod, and without saying anything, you walk to the dressing room, your body on autopilot, with your brain still not functioning correctly. You get in the locker room and are soon swarmed by your team congratulating you, but you only have a task in mind: get the phone to Alexia. So, after some short answers, you quickly return to the hallway, searching for the woman.

She had your shirt around your neck with her back on the wall and followed your movements with her eyes, never taking her gaze off you.

You put yourself in front of her, taking her hand from her sides and placing your phone. She turns on the phone and sees your lock screen; it is a picture of your dog. “Cute dog.” She comments while she hands you back the phone so you can type the password. Then you hand it back to her, and she puts her number in your phone.

“If you are not too tired after we go out for drinks with the team if you want, we can do something else later.” She gives you a soft smile, giving you back your phone.

“Something else like what?” You tease her; riling her up is becoming one of your favorite things.

“Anything you are up to.” Raising her eyebrows, you place your hand on her stomach, gently scratching her skin. She stiffens at the contact but then relaxes, giving you a soft smile.

“What makes you think I am going to say yes?” You once again tease her.

“By your willingness to give me your phone and your hand placement.” She smirks while you retract your hand from her almost unconsciously, feeling the heat of your slight embarrassment settle on your face.

She opens her legs to reach your height, and with a small tug, she makes you come closer to her. She takes you by your sides, gently stroking the skin with her thumb. You were rather small-built, and she had big hands, which you were modestly and unceremoniously obsessed about. Her sudden pull on her made you stumble slightly, making you place your hands on her shoulders to stabilize yourself.

“So, what do you say? Will you let me take you out tonight?” You gently massage the back of her neck while playing with her baby hair.

“I’ll let you know.” You remove yourself from her, already missing the contact, and return to your teammates, leaving her in the hallway.

As soon as you sit in your cubby, you open your phone to see if she isn’t lying and actually put her phone number in your contacts. She did. In style, you could say. She saved herself as Your Favourite Kickboxer ;). That woman had some nerve, you thought, but it made you chuckle in surprise a little too loud, which got the attention of some of your teammates. They began asking you why you took so long to return to the locker room or were smiling dumbly at your phone. You soon shut down any suggestive questions and went in for a shower, making your friends more and more curious.

As soon as you leave the locker room, you meet Mapi and her girlfriend outside the pitch; between hugs and greetings, you enter their car and begin driving to a local bar with them. But before entering the place, you cannot not bring yourself not to text the woman who had been on your mind since the beginning of the day.

‘So you are my favorite kickboxer?” ‘I must say you got some nerve. The first time we met, you kicked me in the groin, and then you already put the salt into the wound.’

‘I had to find a way to make you recognize me.’ She replies almost immediately

‘I don’t know many, Alexias.’

‘Where would the fun be if I only put my name on it?’

‘Fair enough. Now I have a place I need to be. I’ll see you later?’

‘And I have a dog to feed. Yes, I’ll be there in 20 minutes.’

You were ordering some drinks and food while most of her teammates came to the bar and introduced themselves to you. But you were only waiting for someone who made you feel more today than any other girl in the last couple of years. 

“So, what happened with Alexia during the match?” Patri, one of your friend’s teammates, asks you.

“Yeah! I thought it was something serious, but then I saw your teammates burst out laughing, so I didn’t worry too much. Alexia was mortified, though.” Mapi adds, making the conversations shift towards you, waiting for you to answer.

“She didn’t tell you?”

“Oh no, she didn’t. She was very frustrated; you basically turned her into a beginner.” Your friend jokes, earning approval from her teammates, praising your skills.

So you tell them what happened, to make some wince, while your friend who has known you for years now releases a surprised chuckle.

“So that is why your teammates were laughing?”

“Yes, they are assholes. You too.” 

“I’m not laughing at you.” She reassures you. “Alexia has never been that clumsy; she must have been distracted.” She raises her eyebrow knowingly.

“I wasn’t distracted; I just thought the ball was still in the air.” You see a figure approach your table, making many heads turn around to see their captain. Her aura made it evident that she was their leader. As if she had this mask on, which showed her subtle leadership, making you smirk thinking that earlier that day, when you saw glimpses of a different Alexia that probably they didn’t see.

“Good game today, Y/n right?” She extends her arm for you to shake her hand. You innocently take it, thinking that if she wanted to play the game that you were strangers and that literally two hours before didn’t grab you by your waist nor kept looking at your lips, you would comply and play her same game.

“Thank you, Alessia, right?”

“It’s Alexia.” She said, a little irritated, still keeping her hand in yours.

“Oh, sorry, you know me, still working on my Spanish.” You wink at her, with both of you knowing that you did that on purpose.

After your ‘introduction’ to Alexia, the team divided into little groups, making you sit with Mapi and Ingrid, who were the real reasons you were there, and Keira and Lucy, whom you had already met playing against them during your time at Chelsea.

“So when are you coming to Barcelona?” Your friends ask you excitedly.

“What makes you think I want you again as a teammate?” You tease her, making her face turn into a shocked expression. Making the other people at the table chuckle at your witty reply.

“Well, Barcelona has always been your dream. We were supposed to transfer together that year, but you abandoned me for Chelsea.” 

“And I still regret it to this day.” You smile sadly, playing with your food. The year you transferred to Chelsea was one of the worst years of your life; you hated talking about it. It nearly destroyed both your career and yourself. “But the past is in the past, and I still have a contract with Roma.”

“Which will expire in 2024…” Your friend suggests making your room your eyes playfully at her. Making her girlfriend give her a warning look.

“Yes. I am well aware of my contract obligations.”

“So, Y/n.” Ingrid tries to change the subject of the conversation. “Are you single? Boyfriend, OR girlfriend?” You see Alexia from across the bar subtly turn her attention towards your table, waiting for your answer, making you internally chuckle.

“Me? No. I got traumatized.” You laugh to not cry. It was still a sore spot for you; your previous relationship ended badly for you, and you would be lying if it didn't make you more adamant about beginning a new one.

You saw people give you a puzzled look, so you explained what you had just said, “I was in a relationship with this woman for more than four years, but then we ended terms badly. But now I’m great! I’m focusing on my career, and I have a dog, so I’m good!” You try to lighten up the mood; you would hate yourself if the mods of the people around you would change because of you.

“You have a dog?” Lucy asks you excitedly. You quickly take off your phone and show her your lock screen with a picture of Argo, your dog. The fact that you had a dog created a lot of attention towards you; the team swarmed your phone to see the picture, making you chuckle shyly at all the attention given to you.

As the night progressed, you and Alexia would often find each other’s eyes and would share a small smile, something that made you look forward to the next interaction that you would have with her.

You didn’t exactly know what was going on between the two of you; she was making you confused, but at the same time, she made your heart flutter whenever you caught her looking at you.

You didn’t know what it was about her tonight, but you thought she looked stunning. Maybe it was the fact that she wore this comfortableness to her actions that made you want to bask in her aura, or perhaps it was the fact that she wore her hair down, and you literally turned into a gay panic for any pretty girl. Realistically, it was more the latter option.

As many of the girls went home or went to get drinks, this left you the opportunity to be alone with Alexia for the first time in the night. When you sat beside her, she was checking something on her phone, and you decided to make the first move. 

“Hey.” You utter, almost whispering. She takes her eyes off her phone and smiles.

“Hey, you. Are you having fun with your future teammates?” She raises her eyebrows knowingly.

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Everybody thinks I’ll become a Barça player, but what if instead I’ll become a Lyon player?” You joke, both knowing that you would never do that. “But yes, I’m having fun, even though there is someone who has been on my mind all evening.”

She looks around to see if anyone is watching your interactions and then leans closer.

“Oh really? Who is this person?” 

“Well, she is very tall, at least for me, and extremely stunning, and did I mention she has a really pretty smile? Oh, She has really beautiful eyes that, if you look closely enough, you can see some shades of green here and there. And, of course, she has a very powerful left leg.”

“I’ll let you know if I find her. For now, you are stuck with me.” 

“Too bad. I really wanted to ask her something.”

“What did you want to ask her?”

“Well, a question has been burning in my mind for the whole evening.”

“Which is?”

“Wouldn’t you want to know?” You tease her as Mapi and Ingrid come back to the table and begin a conversation with the both of you about her cat; then you hear the sound of your phone; you really hoped it wasn’t your coach wondering where you were.

You didn’t expect a text from the person in front of you.

Your Favourite Kickboxer ;)

‘Meet me in the bathroom’

You look at her, slightly puzzled, but she spurs you on with her eyes. She stands up from the table and excuses herself to go to the bathroom, thus beginning your thoughts on what justification to find to excuse herself from the table.

If you said that you had to go to the bathroom too, it felt like it would be weird, but if you threw a glass of water at yourself, it would be deemed as overdoing. Amid the panic, as you feel that time is running out, you do the second option and try accidentally throwing your glass of water on your hands. For your delusional mind, you thought that your plan actually worked perfectly, whereas for the other two people at the table, it just felt confusing and unnecessary.

You quickly go to the bathroom to dry your hands when you feel two hands sneak up on your waist from behind and perfume that is completely intoxicating you. You turn around with your hands leaning on the sink and finally see the woman consuming every fiber of your being just with her gaze. It was hungry, but at the same time, it transmitted this softness that totally fucked up your brain, not understanding clearly her intentions. But you didn’t care as of right now; that would be a problem for the future you. 

“Took you long enough.” She chuckles gently, caressing your clothed waist. 

“I had to find a way to excuse myself.” You put your hands on her shoulders, eliminating more space between the two of you, turning your lips in a soft grin when you saw her hunching a little her back to better look at you.

“Come home with me tonight.” She whispers earnestly while she slots her leg between yours, coming impossibly closer to you. Only a few inches divided you from her, her lips from yours. You didn’t drink that evening but felt utterly intoxicated by her. Everything about her made you want to throw caution out the window or, given the setting, down the sink.

You couldn’t speak. At least not something coherent, so you slowly nodded. Her lips were mere centimeters from yours, making you want so badly and so needily to close that unnecessary space and finally taste her. You thought she was reading your mind because your noses touched, making her wait for you to do the final step. 

You put your hand on her chest, “As much as I want to kiss you.” She released a low moan, making you shiver and forget your train of thought. “As much as I want to kiss you because I really do.” She lets her head fall over your shoulders, lightly kissing your neck, making a shiver course through your body, filling with goosebumps in the area. “We have friends to go back to.”

“Mmm mmm.” She goes back to kissing your neck, lightly pulling your hair to move your head to give her better access, which you obviously grant her.

“Alexia.” You warn her weakly. You were really enjoying what she was doing to you.

“Ten more seconds.” She muffles while she moves her hands all over your waist, shoulders, and back, trying to take you all in, not wanting to let go of the moment.

After at least half a minute, you warn her once again. “Alexia.”

You feel her inhale by the tickling on your neck that the air to her lungs was causing. She turns her head to look at you and then quickly pecks the corner of your lips.

“I’m done.” She quickly goes out of the bathroom, leaving you frozen in the spot recounting what just happened, still feeling her hands and lips on you.

You turn around to the sink and wash your face to sober up. It didn’t work. And you went back inside the bar.

Mapi was paying the check for her and Ingrid, “Oh hey. We are about to leave. Is it okay for you?”

“Oh, don’t worry. Alexia offered to bring me back to the hotel; she told me that she had to go that way to get to her house, so it would not be a problem for her. Plus, I know you live on the opposite side of where I’m staying.”

“Are you sure? Because for me, it’s not a problem.” She asks.

“I’m sure.” You reassure her. You saw Alexia getting her stuff and yours. “I’ll see you during National Break?” You tell her, hugging her tightly, that you missed being on the same team as her.

“Don’t do anything stupid, okay?” She advises you, making you subconsciously look at Alexia, who is talking to Ingrid.

“Me? Never.”

You go to Ingrid, hug her goodbye, and tell her it was a pleasure to have met her. Then Alexia hands you your stuff. And you go to her car together.

In the car, the air filled with a kind of tension that you couldn’t quite grasp. Less than eight hours ago, you didn’t even know each other, but somehow, the ride to her house wasn’t awkward. It was full of anticipation for what was about to come. “How long have you known Mapi?” She tries to break the silence, genuinely curious about how you know her friend and teammate.

“We played for Atletico Madrid together, became fast friends, and have been in contact ever since. It was true what she said; we were meant to transfer together in 2017. We loved playing together. But then life got in the way.”

“You know, it’s so weird that our teams have played so many times against each other, even in Champions League games or Euros, but today was the first time we actually played against each other.” She points out, never moving her eyes from the road.

“Well, look how it played out.” You joke. 

“I already apologized many times, actually. But I already told you I’ll make it up to you.” She smirks, placing her hand on your thigh, drawing little shapes on your jeans.

“I wonder how.” You whisper to yourself, focusing on the hand that is right now inching closer and closer to your center.

As soon as you get to her home, and as she opens the door to her house, you make her turn around to you, and you pin her against the door; with your hands on her muscular waist, keeping her there, you go on your tippy toes, and for the first time during the night, you kiss her. It was soft and made her understand how much you wanted this, almost reassuring. You could see that she was nervous during the car ride, and you wanted to take some of it away. Honestly, you were nervous, too.

You usually weren’t one for hookups; you’d always preferred to have something serious or nothing at all. But there was something about her that made you change that idea.

You knew it was wrong, that after that night, you would probably see her again on the pitch, and knowing what you were doing now would distract you. But she was there, looking beautiful as always, clinging to you, with her hands covering your cheeks, making the consequences worth it.

“That was definitely worth waiting for.” She chuckles, putting your foreheads together. “Let’s get inside.” She utters, almost whispering, taking you by the hand and bringing you inside her home. She closes the door and pushes you to the wall, covering your body with hers. Her hands were roaming everywhere as she brought you into a searing kiss. Her perfume intoxicated your nostrils, and all your senses had become her. You lose yourself in her sensations as she picks you up from the ground as if you weighed nothing, and you wrap your legs around her. You stop the kiss to look at her. She was beautiful. She was wearing a contagious smile that contrasted her blown-out pupils; this softness of her, even during these moments, made you go crazy. 

 “Take me to your bedroom.” You whisper softly, placing a soft peck on her lips.

-

As you lay on her bed in pure carnal bliss, looking at the wall, you thought you were hallucinating. She was actually there, and this was happening, or better, it had just happened. And as you lay there, you thought you were happy. Maybe it was just her or the fact that she had just given you more than an orgasm, something that hadn’t happened for more than two years since you broke up with your ex-girlfriend. 

You were still in your head, which worried the woman lying beside you a little. She shifts to your side and puts a hand on your waist, giving you soothing strokes to ask for your attention. You turn your head, snapping out of your thoughts.

“You okay?” She wonders, furrowing her eyebrows, worried that she had taken things too far. You hated seeing that expression on her, so you kissed her lips, trying to convey all your feelings instantly.

You thought it was an awful lot of emotions for a simple hookup, but that was a problem for a future you.

“I’m great.” You reassure her, shifting, laying on her side, and indulging in some cuddling. She drew patterns on your back while you ran up and down with your fingers through the middle of her chest, making her sigh contently. It wasn’t a touch with any malicious or sexual motive but a way to touch and memorize her body. To never forget the fantastic night that she has given to you.

She brings you closer to her, and your lips meet again. It was the softest kiss that she had given you. You get on top of her, pulling her hands on your back until they reach your breasts, making her understand what was on your mind.

-

That morning, you woke up with your hair disheveled and a nasty headache. You hadn’t slept at all, and you were clearly late.

You look at the clock and curse to yourself. Alexia was still sleeping peacefully beside you, lying on her front, showing all her tattoos on the back. You caress her muscular back, trying to wake her up. This might be a hookup, but you weren’t an asshole, so you would at least wake her to tell her that you would leave, and frankly, you didn’t want to intrude; she might have places to be.

“Ale. Svegliati.” You whisper, making her twitch her eyes, slowly waking up. She opens her eyes to see her surroundings, then closes them again, and her face adorns with the most relaxed smile you have ever seen. You thought you didn’t know someone more cute than she was right now. 

“Hey.” Her voice was still raspy and low, and she had no intention to move from her position. “We fell asleep.” She points out. You were meant to leave around 2 AM to return to the hotel so that nobody would notice you were gone. But now it was too late. It was already morning, and at 10 AM, you needed to take the bus to leave for the airport.

She gets up from the bed and goes to the bathroom, still naked, making you glance at her body hopelessly. You get dressed, putting on the same clothes you had on the night before, when she gets back in the room, with clothes on this time, and sit next to you, putting some shoes on.

“So breakfast?” She asks casually, while you stare at her dumbly, not expecting that question. More expecting her to kick you out of the house. 

“Well, it’s the least you could do.” She continues, almost as if she was stating the obvious. “After all we did last night, we don’t have to act like strangers.” She explains shyly.

“How about coffee?” You offer instead, with both of you clearly not wanting to let each other go. “I really have to be back at the hotel. Actually, I should have been there two hours ago.”

“Sorry. I completely forgot to put the alarm on. Usually, I sleep in after a match.”

“Don’t worry about it. You have already made it up to me enough last night.” You joke, making her crack a smile.

“I had a really good time last night.” She hides her face, turning her head down to look at her shoes.

“Me too.” You reply, placing a hand on her knee. 

“So, coffee?” She turns to you, hopefully.

You slowly nod, standing up and waiting for her to lead. She takes you to this small coffee shop near her house with her dog. Which you finally met, as you were a little too occupied last night to properly meet her.

She brings you coffee at the table, and you fall into a very peaceful conversation that people who have known each other for a long time would have. It was as if you had just clicked. There was no awkwardness, just conversations flowing simply and carelessly. She offers to bring you back to the hotel.

You hug her awkwardly, saying you would see her again during the national break for the scrimmage against Spain, the first game after winning the World Cup.

As you quickly snuck up to your room, hoping nobody from your team would see you, you had a quick shower to wash off the night before and pack up your stuff, clearly focusing a little more on putting away the shirt you swapped with Alexia. As you looked in the mirror, you saw the heavy bags under your eyes. You were sleep-deprived, so you put some sunglasses on to hide it from your curious teammates.

As you are on the way to the bus, you reminisce the night before and mentally curse yourself for all the feelings that you put aside during the whole day for the future you, which coincidentally was you of now. 

You were the last to go inside the bus, making your teammates tease you and whistle jokingly to you, making small comments like “Rough night?” Or “Did you have fun?”

You sit next to your usual roommate, still with your sunglasses on and about to put your headphones in, when she turns to you expectantly.

“So, how was your night out.” Air quoting the last part, giving you a knowing grin.

“It was good. How was your night.” You ask innocently.

“Cut the crap! You have your sunglasses on, you didn’t come back to the room tonight, and you have a slight limp. Who is it? Is it your defender, friend? Or is it someone else from the group?” She wonders curiously, making you roll your eyes at her and sigh loudly, clearly showing her your annoyance.

“A, I did come back to the hotel! You were just asleep!” You try to sound as convincing as possible. “B, Mapi is in a relationship, and she is like my sister! I would never hook up with her!” 

“So there was someone.” She smirks.

“I didn’t say that. You’re just going crazy. Did you eat some hallucinating mushrooms? Did you think that they were normal mushrooms, but instead, they tasted strange?”

“You’re an idiot. But whatever you did last night, I hope you had fun.”

“I didn’t do anything out of the normal stuff you do when you go out with your friends. But yes, it was nice. Now I’ll sleep.”

-

It was a national break, which meant that you were in Roma, this time, to train with your fellow national teammates. After your underwhelming World Cup and Euros run, you just got a new coach to train your squad. You really hoped that she would be better than the last one.

You were on the training pitch joking and laughing with your other teammates, juggling and passing the ball to each other, when she came on the pitch, making everyone stop in their place looking at her.

As she introduced herself to everyone, you could already see that she was not there to joke around. She was serious and precisely decided her words, but she was passionate about her new job.

“We have two weeks to prepare for the friendly against Spain. I want to create a team with a good mix of experience and fresh talent. All of you are talented girls, but I want to see you in action to create an efficient and strong team.”

The three captains go up to her and introduce themselves and the squad. While you began to juggle the ball to keep your mind off the current situation. You always hated when you changed coach; you thought you needed to prove yourself to them to be accepted in the squad, making you completely doubt your capabilities.

What made you nervous was that she wanted to rejuvenate the squad. Your previous coach tried to do that, but she failed miserably. Many great players were left out of the roster that you could’ve definitely used in the World Cup, so you really hoped that her plan was better than the other’s coach, hoping that she wouldn’t take you off the roster. 

So you gave it your all in practice, trying to impress her and, at the same time, prove to yourself that you deserved to be there. Even running laps without complaining, shocking your teammates, as it had become an inside joke that you wouldn’t run even if the world was ending. Which wasn’t quite right. Yes, you hated running, but on the pitch, you gave it your all.

They called you the female version of Daniele De Rossi since you played in Roma and had his number on, and sometimes gave you the same nickname as him, Capitan Futuro, because of your leadership and tenacity, even though when people looked at your style, they were more reminded of Pirlo’s or Busquets. But he still remained your idol. 

As soon as you finished practice, you were about to leave the pitch when the coach called you to come to her, making your heartbeat from the nervousness. 

“Y/n, come here for a second.” She made you a sign with your hand, and you ran up to her.

“Hey, Mister.” You smile politely at her, crossing your arms.

“Good job today, I have to say-“

“That I didn’t make it to the team? I know. I am a very particular player, so I get it if you want to have someone that better fits your team. I get it; I’ll pack my stuff.” You ramble quickly out of nervousness.

The coach chuckles at your antiques, “Rule number 1, Y/n. Never underestimate yourself. If you think you don’t deserve to be here, then you shouldn’t.” She says seriously, making you unconsciously straighten your back.

“I know; it’s just you are known as a brutal coach who doesn’t care about others’ opinions and is known to make very bold choices. I know that I deserve to be here; I’ve always been on the starting 11 in any important match, when not injured, of course. It’s a great honor to work with you.” You praise her, trying to make up for the bad impression.

“Likewise. But I have to ask.” She begins while studying you curiously.

“Sure, ask away.”

“Why are you here at Roma when you could be anywhere else? Who can actually give you the chance to use your full potential?” She asks so directly, making you blink twice.

“What, sorry?”

“I know that Barcelona, Lyon, Chelsea, and Arsenal all wanted you and actually offered big money to Roma for you, but you always declined. I wonder why, that’s it. I just think you are wasting your prime here.”

“I have a contract with Roma until 2024, then I’ll decide my future. As for the teams, I know that they are interested. Barcelona phones my agent almost every year. But I already informed them that I won’t accept any offer until the end of the season. I feel like I would let down the club. I told them that I would be there until 2024, so I’ll be there until 2024. It’s the least I could do after everything they did for me.”

She raises her eyebrow, amused, “Well, that didn’t happen for Chelsea. I followed your career and thought you were having a great season with the club.”

“I left Chelsea for personal reasons.” You turn your head skeptically. “With all due respect, coach, why are my career choices that important?”

“I just want to understand if I am going to make the right choice.”

“What choice?”

“You, Y/n, are going to be my new team captain.”

-

As soon as you go to the locker room, you go to your three team captains and ask them for an explanation.

“You know, they want to strip off your captaincy.” You say, wearing a disgusted expression to Cristiana Girelli. “You cannot let her do that! It’s disrespectful.” You say angrily.

“Y/n, look at me. I told her I wanted to step back from the national team. I’m getting older, and my time has already come. This is a new era. And you are the perfect skipper. They call you the Capitan Futuro for a reason.”

“But what about Barbara? And Elena? They are too, the captains.” You say sadly, clearly not wanting to take their place.

“Barbara decided to step down from the national team like me. Elena thought that you were the right choice as a skipper. She’s going to be your co-captain. We’ve already arranged everything. You just have to say yes.” You always looked up to Cristiana; she was your mentor, especially in the national team. If you were the player you are today, it was partly because of her.

“Do you think I could be a good skipper?” You ask her shyly, “I’ve never been an actual captain; with Roma, I’m the third, but the actual one? Do I make the cut for it?” You hated yourself for being this insecure.

She takes you by the shoulders. “You, Y/n, transmit something when you are on the pitch that not many people do. You make the team more calm and lucid. Knowing that you are back there allows everyone to be more free on the pitch. You are our most important player, on and off the pitch. So the armband is yours. You deserve it.” She gives you a reassuring hug, “Now go back to change; you are all sweaty!”

-

As the two weeks passed, you were really happy with the coach and the team. When the team found out that you would lead them, they were ecstatic, making you a little more comfortable with your new position.

The Spanish team would arrive two days before the match, and you were happy to see Mapi again and extremely stressed out to see Alexia. You didn’t talk or text after the night that you shared together; you both followed each other on Instagram, which you were stalking daily, but you didn’t give much thought to that.

You weren’t a simp. Especially for a girl that you have seen only for a day. You had some self-respect. That is what you were trying to convince yourself to believe. So you told yourself that you would avoid her at all costs. You were the skipper now, and you had to be extremely focused.

The plan failed miserably when you asked Mapi two nights before the match to meet up at a place for some drinks. She had never been to Roma and wanted to visit the city. What you didn’t expect was for her to invite some of her teammates. It’s not the fact that there were other people with you because you loved the Spanish girls, especially the ones from Barcelona, as you had already hung out with them previously.

Still, you were really scared of meeting Alexia again. Your fear turned out to be plausible because of the five players there, Alexia was one of them.

During the afternoon, you showed the Spanish girls, Roma, while they teased you, saying that you were almost better as a tour guide than a football player. They didn’t know you were making stuff up along the way, trying to act cool and knowledgeable.

You could see that Alexia would sometimes look at you, as her gaze would pierce holes at the back of your skull, but whenever your eyes would meet, you would soon avoid her gaze. You told yourself to avoid her, and that is what you did. What was more painful, though, was that she would look like a kicked puppy, making you feel very guilty for what you were doing.

After walking for a while, the girls wanted to try the typical ‘Aperitivo’ famous worldwide, so you brought them to a little place with a great view that you knew wouldn’t disappoint. They all ordered Aperol Spritz, apart from you, making them look at you a little puzzled.

“Oh, I don’t drink that much.” You explain while Mapi raises an eyebrow and chuckles.

“Okay, I usually don’t drink during the season.” She raises her eyebrow again.

“I only drink on special occasions.” Eying Mapi for making you sound like an alcoholic.

“When we won La Liga in 2017, we went out to party, and she didn’t hold back.” She glances at her, trying to make her understand to stop talking.

“And we are done with the conversation now. So, how’s Barça?”

You begin to share stories and funny anecdotes about your respective clubs, making you really happy to have decided to spend the afternoon with them. They were a tight group, and you could see that they deeply cared for one another.

As you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, you quickly clean your hands, thinking about some random stuff, when your thoughts were interrupted by the door of the women’s bathroom swinging, finding yourself in front of you, the person you were categorically avoiding.

“Alexia, Hi!” You say, still a little shocked. She was still at the door, clearly trying to make some space between the two of you. She closes the door and then turns to you, crossing her arms.

“Are you avoiding me?” She asks you to wear this vulnerability, which is very uncharacteristic. Making you want to do anything to reassure her that it wasn’t true and make her feel better. You hated seeing her like this. But you were avoiding her.

“I-I.” You didn’t know how to reply.

“Because it’s very annoying, especially when we decided to be civil about this and not act like strangers. If you have a problem, that’s on you.” She was irritated and had every right to be; you were acting like an asshole, and she didn’t do anything to deserve that treatment. She was about to leave when you gently grabbed her hand,

“I’m sorry, okay? I just wasn’t expecting you to be here today. And you come here looking like this. It’s not helping.”

“Looking like what?” She takes a step closer to you, wearing a proud smirk. 

“Stop looking at me like that.” She was making you go crazy; your mind was hazy, fully intoxicated by her.

“Like what?” 

“Like you’ve seen me naked.” You reply. She replies, only smirking more and raising her eyebrows. She has seen you naked, and she was acknowledging that. She was coming closer to you, making you retreat to the wall.

“Alexia…” You warn her once. She knew that it wouldn’t stop her because you were enjoying this. “We have to act like professionals.” She took you by the waist and began kissing your neck. “This. It is not professional. It’s wrong.” You barely utter, trying to contain any sign that you are enjoying this. Which you were. So damn much.

“Your heartbeat says otherwise.” She gives you a kiss where you are most sensitive on the neck. She still remembered. Making you shiver. “Your skin tells me otherwise. It’s covered in goosebumps.” She leaves a small kiss till she reaches the back of your ear, whispering, “Tell me to stop, and I will.” 

You couldn’t reply. She was right. You didn’t want her to stop. You missed how her kisses made you feel, how her perfume intoxicated all of your senses, or how her hands, warm and comforting hands would roam all over your body in search of new skin to touch. She was lighting a fire that you knew you couldn’t put out. And frankly, you didn’t want to; you wanted that fire to consume you, leaving nothing but her behind.

“We can’t hook up in here.” You state, closing your eyes, getting lost in her. 

“Are you sure?”

“Come back home with me.” You blurt out, clearly not thinking about the consequences.

“So much for acting professionally.” She winks and then leaves you alone in the bathroom once again. You really had to stop going to the bathroom when you were out together.

When you both come out, you quickly find an excuse for you to leave. Thankfully, they had the hotel nearby, so they wouldn’t have to leave by car. Alexia told them that she had to buy some souvenirs for her sister, so she was going to come back late.

-

You get to your home by car, which fortunately wasn’t that far from where you were with your friends before, and you make her quickly come in, leading her without any hesitation to your bedroom. You were a girl with a mission.

As soon as you enter the room, you push her onto the bed and get on her lap, taking off your shirt in the process. She places her hands on the back of your shoulders, finally being able to touch your skin. You sigh at her touch as if you were finally able to breathe again.

Your faces were inches away from touching, but neither of you wanted to take that step, juggling anticipation with teasing. You were the one that surrendered, whispering, “Kiss me” To her lips as they soon met yours. It was excruciatingly slow, passionate, and tender. It was the first time that you kissed since the first time, and you finally realized just how much you missed it. Maybe too much for a simple two-night stand, but again, it was a problem for the future you.

As you lay together once again, this time in your bed together, both exhausted, even though it was barely time for dinner. She was lying on her front, with the sheets draping down her body, showing her strong back. She hugged the pillow, still keeping her eyes closed, fully relaxed. You loved seeing her like this. You let yourself leave a kiss on her temple while still stroking her hair, making her smile. She took your hand and slowly interlaced it with her, then kissed the back of your hand. “Hungry?” You ask her when she nods profusely.

“What do you want to eat?”

“Whatever you have.” You go to get up from your bed, and you throw on the first shirt that you find, which was hers, and you leave the room.

“Come back quickly. I want to stay in bed with you.” She tells you, making you chuckle at her cuteness.

You quickly retrieve some cookies and Nutella and return to your room. You place the food near your nightstand and roam for a shirt in your closet.

“Do you want a shirt?” You ask her.

“Yes, please.”

You throw her one of your old shirts from when you were younger, and she puts it on right away and subtly smells it.

Then you offer her some food.

“Where did you get these? They are so good.” She asks you while taking a huge bite.

“I make them.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah. Usually, before a match, I get a little nervous, so I bake. It’s my way of coping with anxiety. I usually share cookies with my teammates in secret. So that our nutritionist won’t say anything.”

“These are good!” She says. “They are very similar to the ones that Mapi did once.” Then it clicks for her. “Wait. Were you the one that taught her?”

“Who do you think she got the recipe from?” You chuckle.

“Yours are better, though. Like way better.”

“I know ’cause my recipe differs from the one I gave her. Mine is the real one. My dad would always say to never give out your recipes. They are a family’s inheritance.”

“You Italians are so weird with food and so extra.” She remarks, making you playfully slap her shoulder.

“We are not extra; you Spanish people are extra with your paella and the Jamon Iberico, or ‘Patanegra.’ You can find it cheaper here, and it is just as good.”

“That’s offensive. It’s like saying that Italian food is better than Spanish.” She says, clearly trying to rile you up.

“You did not just say that!” You put your hands on her thighs, looking at her, shocked.

“I did. And I don’t regret it.” She gives you a small peck on the lips and then goes on eating her cookie.

“You are lucky that you are cute.”

“Or else what? You are going to throw me out of your home?” She remarks playfully.

“I could if I wanted to, but then I’d be here all alone, without any clothes on, without anyone to keep me company.” You pout jokingly, making your voice even more needy to make fun of her.

In a swift movement, she pins you down the mattress with her fingers running up your thigh. “Thankfully, you are not alone.” She gives you a quick kiss. “By the way, you do look good with my shirt on, but you know what would make you look even better? If you took it off. So be a good girl for me and take it off.”

It was past midnight, you were both exhausted, and you were nearly falling asleep. You were lying on her side, slowly tracing her facial features with your fingers, trying to remember every little crease and mole that made up her skin.

“What are you doing?” She smiles, feeling slightly ticklish

“I’m trying to memorize your face. For the next time, we will see each other.” You say earnestly, not stopping your caresses.

“See. You cannot say stuff like that and expect me to not have a reaction.” She chuckles lightly.

“Maybe I want you to have a reaction to my words.” You say innocently, stopping your movements to kiss her soft lips.

“What are we doing here? What are we?” She asks you, making you retreat from your position sitting up.

“I don’t know.”

“Me neither. But I like this. Whatever this is.”

“Me too. We don’t have to label it. Can we just be? Is that okay for you?”

“I’m okay with it. Now come back here.” She offers her embrace to you, which you gladly accept, burying your face in her hair while she fatherly strokes your back, making your skin full of goosebumps. You sigh contently at the sensation.

“Can I ask you something?” You move yourself to better look at her.

“What?”

“I know that we are not an item or whatever, but I was just curious as to what happened with Chelsea. You can totally tell me to fuck off, and I won’t bring up the argument again, but you are known for always being very respectful to your clubs, and you always wait for a contract to finish before transferring, so I was wondering what made you change clubs.”

“Are you asking because you care or because you want a story? Because I really don’t like to talk about it, and if you don’t care, I’d rather not talk about it.”

“I asked because I care. I ask because since I have known you, I want to get to know you. I ask because you are a great person and I care”

“Okay,” You take a deep breath, and you begin. “This is going to be a long story.” You chuckle. “What do you know about my history with Chelsea?”

“I know that you transferred there after being at Atletico, but you sent in a transfer request soon after, and you came to Roma. That’s it.”

“You don’t know the reason, though, right?”

“There were just rumors, but I don’t know anything, and I don’t tend to believe rumors, as the majority of them are false.”

“Okay. So, to begin my story, we have to go back to my college years in the US. So basically, during those years, three major things happened: I got my degree in physiotherapy, met my best friend, and got a girlfriend who also wanted to become a physiotherapist.”

You told her how she was British and how you thought she was perfect for you. “Frankly, looking back at it now, we were very toxic for each other. We loved each other very much, but it was our first real relationship both of us. And honestly, I thought that I was going to marry her; maybe it was just me who was so in love with that girl that I didn’t even know how to distinguish and understand her flaws. But again, she was my first real relationship, and she knew how to use my weaknesses against me to get me to do what she wanted. My best friend hated her; probably, that should have been the first sign. We would fight and then make up, and then she would guilt trip me into doing stuff for her.”

“That doesn’t look like a really healthy relationship.”

“Well, yeah, I was really young and dumb. But anyway, when I went to Atletico, we tried to have a long-distance relationship. She found a job as a therapist at the Chelsea women’s team, and her career too was taking off. When Mapi and I finished the contract with Atletico, and she moved to Barça, I was to move there too. I knew that Barcelona was interested, and Barça was my dream. Honestly, it still is. But then she called me, the day before deciding on my future, saying that her mom was sick and she needed me. Probably, she just wanted to be able to see me more. So I stopped waiting for Barça's proposal and told Chelsea I would transfer for them. In the beginning, I loved being at Chelsea. I have always supported the club, and I fit their style of play. My career was taking off quickly, and I was wearing myself thin. Her mom was getting worse, so my time was divided between training and hospital visits. For my ex-girlfriend, her mom was like my dad to me. So, I understood how important she was to her, and I thought that if I stayed with her mom and kept her company, my ex would be happy. That is what I would want if my dad were to be sick. I would just want him to have all the support, not caring about myself if that meant for him to improve.”

“That’s not very healthy.”

“But if it were your father, you would do the same thing too, right?”

“Yeah.” She replies sadly. “I did the same thing.”

“So I guess I started neglecting my ex a little? I think. I know she was suffering, and I knew I could’ve done more to give her the support she needed, but I didn’t. I would train, go to the hospital, and then sleep. I was exhausted and couldn’t keep up with myself and her needs. Looking back at it now, I probably would have done things differently; I would’ve tried to not wear myself out that thin.”

“You were young.”

“Yeah, I guess. So I remember that one day, and I still remember the date. Don’t ask why; I just do. Her mom was getting worse, and she was exhausted, so I thought that I would let her go to sleep while I would try to keep her mom company. As she left, I stayed with her until the time was up, and I went back home and I-“

“No, she didn’t.” She says incredulously.

“Yeah. I caught her cheating on me with one of my teammates.”

“That whore.” She replies angrily.

“Well, she eventually married that woman, so I guess not.” You chuckle at her angry expression. “She told me that I wasn’t giving her the support that she needed and that the other girl was giving it to her. I got all of my clothes and left. I was still playing at Chelsea, but then word spread out that I was the one that cheated. Everyone started to treat me differently. I didn’t play anymore; I was always on the bench, and nobody talked to me. I reached my last straw, so I requested a transfer. Barça tried to sign me; I also wanted to go there. Everything was settled; I was about to leave when they blocked the offer and allowed me to decide between two Italian clubs, Roma and Juventus. And here I am.”

“So you stayed with her dying mother, and she had the audacity to cheat on you?”

“I guess? I don’t know Alexia. So much time has passed, and I don’t want to think about it anymore. She’s happy now, I guess. Honestly, I am happy too. I am really glad though that you won the Champion’s League final against them.”

“I am even more glad, too, now.” She brings you on top of her and gives you a hug, kissing the crown of your hair. “I am glad that you trusted me enough to tell me this. I hope that you know that you deserve better than her. You deserve the world. Her actions don’t define you, and don’t even think that you deserve what she did to you.”

“But what if-“You say insecurely when she interrupts you.

“No what ifs. You did what you thought was right, and by doing so, you put yourself second to everything else. You have no right to blame yourself for what she did.” She puts her hands on your cheeks and makes you look at her. “Okay?”

“Okay.” It was incredible how she knew what exact words to say and how, by her saying them, you actually believed them somehow.

Suddenly, you felt your heart crack open for her to enter inside it. And you realized that what you had with her wasn’t just sex. It was something deeper. In so little time, she was able to heal you from your past and open up again. And that scared you, no, it frightened you.

You had built the highest walls, and for the two days you had been with her, she could make them crumble. You were feeling too much; she was making you feel too much. You wanted to run away. Clear your head. Push her out of the way and never see her again. But you couldn’t bring yourself to move from her. Her embrace was what had grounded you. You weren’t drowning in her. She was your oxygen. And you were finally surfacing up from the depths of your mind to finally heal. This realization hit you like a ton of bricks, making you do the first thing your mind could think of. Which was kissing her.

You kissed her hard and passionately, trying to convey all the emotions to her, to show her how much her words affected you. Your action caught her by surprise, but she soon adjusted to it. You trail your kisses down her chest, then to her abdomen. Praising the body of the woman who had made you feel more today than anything your ex or anyone had ever done previously. 

-

The morning after, you wake up with an arm draped around your waist, holding you down. She tightens her arm around you as you try to tangle yourself out of her embrace.

“So you are just pretending to be asleep.” You smile at her, trying to take off her strong and dead-weight arm from your body.

“Five more minutes.” She fully snuggles into you.

“I have to shower, and you have to get back to your teammates.” You try to reason with her. “And we have to have breakfast.”

“Five more minutes.” She continues.

“Okay, but only five.” She pulls herself on top of you, spurring you to play with her hair, which you do, and the five minutes turn into ten. And then you both realize that you have to get up.

You decide to shower together ‘to save water.’ You both wash each other’s hair and back, this act of intimacy making your heart swell with affection for the girl who was currently hugging you from behind. 

You both have breakfast in your little kitchen, with conversations flowing effortlessly, alternating between joking around and surfacing more serious topics.

You could not but point out to yourself that this was what was supposed to feel like when you were in a relationship with someone. But you weren’t in a relationship with her. She liked the idea of not labeling this thing between the two of you and hell, you didn’t want to complicate stuff just because of some confusing and all-over-the-place feelings.

You bring her back to the hotel, telling each other that you will see them during the match that will take place the next day.

You put your sunglasses on, which you thought maybe were your post-hookup outfit choice, and you get to the training center. It would be your last session before tomorrow’s game.

As soon as you enter the locker room, your teammates from Roma chuckle at you.

“Fun night?” They tease you.

“I don’t know what you are all talking about.” Making some other teammates look at you curiously while you showed them the finger.

“So basically, we think Y/n is hooking up with a Barça player. So now she gave us another clue: She is Spanish.”

“I’m not hooking up with anybody. And it’s none of your business; I’m your captain. Get back to train!” You say, slightly irritated.

You quickly put your training gear on, realizing you were still wearing Alexia’s shirt, and then get on the pitch.

The coach comes soon after and calls you to revise some tactics.

“So you, Y/n, if Putellas is starting, you are going to be the one that will mark her.” Her surname makes your mind have flashbacks of your previous night. “You basically annulled her in the last game, so expect you to do the same tomorrow.”

“Yes, coach.”

“If Patri starts instead, you will mark Bonmatì.”

That evening, you were nervous, to say the least. It was your first match as the Italian captain, and you really wanted it to go well. So you started baking. You baked enough cookies for an army.

So you decided to leave some for Mapi, who has always loved eating them, and your pathetic ass also saved some for Alexia in the hopes that she would come and find you after the game.

It was match day. Alexia was in the starting 11, and your parents were in the stands supporting you, and as you were leading your team to the pitch, you felt a sense of pride. 

As you go to exchange the badge with the captain of the other team, Alexia, she tries to contain a smile that was creeping on her lips.

You shake her hand and give her the Italian badge. “Hello, Captain.” You greet her.

“Hello to you too, Captain.” She replies. You finish the formalities, and then you go to each other’s respective pitches.

Today, you would give it your all; nobody would stop you.

You were all over the pitch trying to help your teammates and leading them to score, but unfortunately, the Spanish team was a force to be reckoned with, and they exploited all of the weaknesses of your team. They were world champions for a reason. Thankfully, you were able to hold off a draw.

The first time that you had to mark Alexia, it was a free kick for Spain because of an offside.

“The armband has a good look on you.” She beams at you proudly.

“Well, the star looks good on your badge.” You reply. 

“Don’t you dare try to distract me.” She warns you.

“When did I ever do such a thing?” You reply dumbly. “I should be the one warning you not to kick me!” Mapi was about to throw the ball; thankfully, it didn’t land in the direction of Alexia because seeing her again on the pitch was making you feel a little distracted, and you’d really hate it if your team lost because of one of your mistakes. 

The rest of the times you interacted with her, you would snatch the ball away from her in most cases. You were working tirelessly, trying not to concede a goal. At half-time, you were exhausted, but you had something to prove. After half-time, Alexia was getting more annoyed; she really wanted a win as it would be their first win after their World Cup.

You knew you would get subbed off at the 70th minute to give some space for subs, so until then, you would give your 100%. It was the 65th minute, and there was a throw-in for Spain. Alexia was trying to get the ball from her teammates, and with a miscalculated movement, she quickly moved her elbow, which hit your nose, making acute pain grow in the middle of her face.

“Cazzo!” You scream. You throw yourself to the ground, still in pain, smelling iron and feeling a warm liquid in your hands.

The game quickly stopped, and Alexia turned to you, kneeling and touching your scapula. 

You were mad; you had once broken your nose more than five years ago, and it wasn’t pretty, and hated when people touched you when you were irritated, so you lashed out at her. “Don’t fucking touch me.” You squirm away from her touch,

“I’m sorry.” She says regretfully.

“You fucking did it on purpose, huh? If it’s broken, don’t you dare talk to me again!” 

Your team swarms you, pushing Alexia away. 

Linari, remove your hands from your face while keeping your eyes closed. “Is there blood? Wait, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know, or else I am going to cry or faint.”

You open your eyes for a moment and look at your teammates; they all are very worried. Linari was stomping towards Alexia, screaming in her face, but you couldn’t hear properly; your mind was a little hazy from the pain. 

You look at your hands; they are full of blood, and you begin to panic. You sit up and begin touching your nose, removing more blood, but you can still feel it flowing. 

The medics were running to you. “How bad is it?”

They inspect your nose, “It’s not broken; the impact broke some blood vessels, and you burst your lip. That’s why there is so much blood.

“Can you make it stop? I want to finish the game.” You look at your coach; she signs you to come off the pitch. 

You stand up, take your armband off, give it to your co-captain, and leave the pitch. You go to your coach, who reassures you that she doesn’t want you to risk anything for a friendly

-.

The medics brought you to the physio room and gave you some ice to put on your nose. Thankfully, the bleeding stopped soon after, and you were left watching the game on the TV while waiting for your teammates. You were happy that your team was able to hold a draw. As soon as the game finished, you were swarmed by your teammates checking up on you. You told them that you were okay, and then you began laughing and joking.

They stayed there for five more minutes, and then you heard a knock on the door, and you saw some of the Spanish girls checking up on you. Your team slowly exited the room, giving the death stare at Alexia, who shamefully wouldn’t look at you.

“You okay?” Mapi asked worriedly.

“I’m good. Thankfully, it is nothing serious; the impact burst some vessels, that’s why there was so much blood.”

They stayed there for another five minutes while Alexia stayed in the corner awkwardly looking at her teammates, never looking at you. As they were about to leave, you called her to stay a little longer.

“I’m sorry if I lashed out.” You say regretfully, holding out your hand for her to grab it while pulling her near you. “I know that you didn’t do it on purpose. It’s just- I had already broken my nose and didn’t want to break it again.”

“I’m really sorry.” For the first time, she looked at you; she had this kicked puppy look that you hated seeing on her face.

She takes the ice from your hand and slowly takes it off your face to check the bruising.

“Do I look that bad?” You try to joke; half of your face is red and really swollen.

“You look beautiful as ever.” She smiles.

You blush at her words, “You just say that because you were the one that caused it.”

“You know that I got screamed at by your teammates?”

“Linari?”

“Yep, Apparently, she knows Spanish really well. Honestly, I deserve it. If my teammate got kicked and punched by the same person, I would have had the same reaction.”

“Maybe you should stop then. Cause I really don’t want to know what will happen next time.” You joke.

“Maybe we aren’t meant to play against each other.” She remarks suggestively.

“Maybe not…” You reply. She kisses you on the forehead,

“Can I kiss you?”

“Just be gentle; it still hurts a little.” She gives you a feathery kiss, so gentle and so soft that it seemed like it was just a mere graze. She lingers her lips there for a couple of seconds as if she wants to savor this moment, and you both hear the door open, and you break off the kiss, pushing her away from you. You turn around and see your tattooed ex-teammate and friend staring at both of you, shocked.

“Oh wow. That was very unexpected.” She releases a surprised chuckle. “I’ll come back another time. I just left my sweater in here before.” She retrieves the sweater and she is about to leave when she turns around to the both of you, “I have to ask, though, when did you start dating, or whatever this is?”

“We are not dating.” Alexia turns to look at her, with her shoulders high and a serious face. She was closing off.

“Yeah. We are just casually keeping each other company?” You tentatively back up Alexia’s claim, clearly not realizing how weirdly you phrased it. Alexia’s face turned quickly to look at you weirdly. “Okay, that sounded a little bad. I apologize.”

“So you are hooking up?” Mapi concludes.

“Mapi!” Alexia rolls her eyes at her.

“What? It is true!” You slightly nod, making the other team's captain roll your eyes at you, too.

“I’d rather not discuss my sex life with you! I already know that in a matter of days, everybody from Barça will know, so the less you know, the better.” 

“I would never tell anyone!” She replies, offended.

While you sit there still in the bed, observing the interaction between the two friends, clearly annoyed with each other, you could see though how much they cared and loved one another. 

“So you wouldn’t tell Ingrid, right? I swear to god, you tell everything to that woman.” 

“She’s my girlfriend!”

“Yes, but still, you can’t keep a secret for shit!”

“Well, at least I didn’t nearly break her nose and kick her in the groin.” She comments calmly, making you release a surprised chuckle, making the two girls turn to look at you but soon shift their attention to each other again.

“For the last time! I didn’t do it on purpose!”

“Okay, that’s enough. As much as I don’t care about this bickering, I think it’s enough for today.” You go to stand up, but Alexia froze you with her gaze. Making you not move from your position “Now come and hug me. I won’t be seeing you for a long time.” You open your arms, and she walks right in them. 

“Take care, okay?” She says to you.

“I will. You too.”

“Let me see if I remember correctly. Ti voglio bene?” She asks, with her broken Italian accent.

“Si, Ti voglio bene anche io.” You chuckle. She exits the room, smirking at Alexia, leaving the two of you once again alone.

“Oh, I totally forgot. Can you pass me the bag that is under the table over there?” You point the bag with your finger while she quickly retrieves it and puts it on the bed next to you, where you are sitting, with your feet dangling in the air.

You quickly open the bag and hand her a little bag. She looks at you confused and then opens it.

“I made you cookies.” You explain, making her smile excitedly at the pastry.

“Why?” She turns to you incredulously, shocked by your kindness.

“Two days ago, you said that you liked them, and yesterday night, I made a batch for the team, so I thought that you would love to have them for your trip back to the airport. I made them also for Mapi.”

Her expression changed from incredulity to shock and then a mix between guilt and thankfulness. Seeing the shift in her face, your mind is plagued with doubt. “Did I overstep? I’m sorry. I just thought you might like something to eat. I always get very hungry after a match. I should’ve asked. I’m sorry.” You ramble quickly while you try to take the bag away from her, but she tightens her grip on them.

“No, you didn’t overstep.” She reassures you and gives you a big smile. “It’s just, nobody has ever done anything like this before. Thank you, Y/n. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s nothing, really. Even though you don’t deserve them, you still can have my cookies.” You tease her.

“Thank you. Thank you for the cookies, and thank you for the kiss. I have to get back to the locker room, or other people will start to wonder what we are doing here. I’ll see you tonight?” She asks as if it was the most normal thing.

“I can’t tonight. My parents are here, they came here from home to be at the match. Plus, I don’t think that we can do anything tonight.” Circling with your finger, your face.

“I just wanted to check up on you. Can you send me a text if it gets worse, please? I’m really glad, though, that there is someone with you tonight. I don’t think I could’ve slept well tonight if I knew that nobody would take care of you when I nearly broke your nose.”

“You are worrying too much. It’s just a bruise.”

“Yeah, but I don’t bruise the people that I dat- that I care about.”

“Ohh, you care about me!”

“Shut up. Do you want me to take the cookies to Mapi?”

“Yes, please.”

“I have to go now.” She hesitates. “Can I have a hug?” She asks shyly. You make her a sign to come to you, and she gently brings you her strong embrace, lightly pecking your neck in the process.

“I’ll see you next time?” She asks, hopeful.

“Goodbye, Alexia. Have a safe flight back home.”

-

‘Are you okay? Does it hurt?’

It was the third text that she had sent you that night. Every time, you would reassure her that it was nothing, just a bruise, but she didn’t care. She would ask you to send an update about your well-being every hour. 

‘I’m okay, Alexia. Stop worrying too much.’

‘I don’t care. In an hour, I’ll send you another text.’

‘Don’t you have like other stuff to do than worry about me?’

She sent you a picture of her and Mapi eating the cookies you baked. ‘Yes, but I can multitask. Like rn, I’m eating your cookies.’

‘I’m glad that you like them.’

‘You’ll have to teach me how to do them.’

‘You wish, haha.’

“Who are you texting?” Mapi asks suggestively to her captain, seeing her smiling at her phone.

“Me? Oh, Y/n, I wanted to see if she was okay.” She replies, never taking her eyes off her phone.

“You are down bad for that girl.” She grins.

“No, I am not. We are just casually hanging out. Plus, she told me that she didn’t want to label it. To ‘just be’.”

“Well, I don’t usually bake cookies for nightstands when they nearly have broken my nose.”

“She was just being nice because I told her that I liked them when I went to her place.”

“So you didn’t have to buy souvenirs?”

“Are you really that dumb?”

“Well, well, well, I didn’t know that you had it in you to have a nightstand. Not even her, honestly.” Alexia pulls her head down, not looking at her friend sadly. “Oh my god! You like her, like her!”

“I don’t know, okay,” She says, frustrated. “In the beginning, it was just physical. But then we began talking and laughing, and I don’t know. She just makes me feel so happy and relaxed whenever I’m with her.”

“Maybe it’s just the good sex.”

“The sex is good. Like incredible. But the little moments we have after are what I look most forward to. She baked me cookies, for god’s sake; how am I supposed to compete with that?”

“Can I say something that I don’t know if it will make you feel better or not?”

“Just say it.”

“When I first met Y/n, she was this shy little girl who just came from the US. She knew very little Spanish, but she had a huge heart. We became very good friends; on the pitch, we worked perfectly; off the pitch, she was my best friend at Atletico. Everybody loved her there. We also met her girlfriend at the time.”

“Total bitch.”

“Yeah, she loved her so much, but what hurt the most was that Kate was bluntly taking advantage of her kindness and generosity. Nobody in the squad liked her. When we were about to leave for Barça together, I was so happy. It was our dream, and I loved playing with her, but then her ex called her, and she wouldn’t wait for Barça. We got into this huge fight; it was the only time I had seen her angry. And then she moved to Chelsea.

What I’m trying to say is that Y/n, is a very kind and giving person, especially to the people she cares about. She always puts herself second to others, especially when they are in need. Giving you cookies might seem like a small and weird gesture, but for her, it is just a way to make your day, even by a little, better. She wouldn’t do this for people she wouldn’t care about.”

-

The third time you see Alexia was during the Champions League game against Barcelona. Talking to your coach, you refused to mark her, so you opted to mark during the game Aitana instead. With Alexia, things were going weirdly. You started texting more since she nearly broke your nose. So now you were friends? You really didn’t know.

The day before the match, the Barcelona team was at your stadium to meet some of your teammates from each other’s national team, but you quickly ran up to Mapi and gave her a hug. She was with some of her teammates, Alexia included, talking to each other. You soon greet all of her other teammates, leaving Alexia last.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” She picks you up in the air and embraces you tightly. “You okay?” She asks you, slowly putting your feet back down on the pitch.

“I’m good.”

“How’s the nose?” She gently pinches it and moves it to see if there is any swelling.

“Stop smothering me. It’s been like six months now.” You take her hand away from you. “And don’t you dare injure me again tomorrow?”

“I’ll try my best.”

 During the last six months, clips of Alexia injuring you from your previous two matches against you went viral. People saying that she hated you or that she didn’t care. Sometimes, even in interviews, people would ask you about your relationship with her or vice versa. And the both of you would simply say that you were just, unfortunate when playing against each other and that you were actually friends in real life. 

-

It was match day, which meant that you were about to face the best team in the world, which frankly scared you a little. It was at home, so you really wanted to win or at least have a draw. 

As you are about to go on the pitch, you meet your friends from Barça in line, and you go and shake their hands to all of them.

“We are swapping shirts after this?” You ask your ex-teammate, hoping that she would say yes. 

“Sure. If I win, of course.” She replies cockily.

“We have a pretty good team, you know. I wouldn’t be so sure about a win.” You sent her a playful smirk while you walked to shake hands with Paños and then Alexia.

“Capitana.”

“Good luck out there.” She smiles, slightly lingering her hand in yours, and then the moment is destroyed by your skipper calling you back.

In the first half, you became the shadow of Aitana; she never got past you. The difference between her and Alexia was that the younger girl was much quicker and more stubborn with the ball.

“So you are not marking Alexia this time?” She asks you, still with the game going on.

“Nah, I’d rather preserve my physical well-being.” You joke, making the younger girl release a small chuckle, then go back to focus on the pitch.

Alexia was looking at your interaction on the other side of the pitch, rolling her eyes and scoffing.

The game was pretty balanced somehow. You were giving it your all, running way more than needed. You could already feel how sore your legs would be the next day, especially when you knew Alexia would be coming over tonight.

It was the 60th minute of the match, you were on the counter-attack, and you sent the perfect long ball to your number 9, and she was running to the goal. You knew that she would be swarmed by the opposing team in a matter of seconds, so you started running too, to give her some support. Your legs were hurting, but you kept on going; you would score one way or another. You were nearly at the box when Giacinti cut the ball perfectly to your right foot, and you powerfully kicked the ball off the right top bin. Everybody stopped, you stopped. All looking at the quick ball, which was currently in the air. Paños dived, but it was too late. The ball already went inside the net. 

You ran to the side of the pitch where the fans were and kissed your badge, pointing at them. This was for them. Then, all of your teammates swarmed you and hugged you.

You raise your arms to make the fans get louder to cheer for your teammates. You were winning against the best team in the world. Now, you just need to keep it up; don’t let any slip or mistake jeopardize the victory.

As the final whistle blew, you could see the disappointed looks of the other team as they registered the first loss of their season, while you just dropped to the ground exhausted. Clearly, the stress from before the match and the running and shooting took a toll on you, and finally, you were able to rest. 

“You ok?” You open your eyes to see Alexia staring at you worriedly.

“I’m good. I just need to catch my breath.” She offers her hands to help you stand up, and you gladly take them. “You were great today. No wonder you scored against us.” You thank her again and search for Mapi to swap shirts.

“So, do you still want to swap shirts?”

“Yes, of course!” She pulls her shirt and gives it to you, and you do the same. You go and hug her, “Do you want to go for dinner tonight?” She offers, while you look at her a little guilty.

“I already have plans. But for the next leg, for sure.” 

“Plans with a certain tall woman from my team?” 

“Who, Ingrid?” You tease her.

“No, idiot. Alexia.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” You lightly blush, looking away from her knowing eyes.

“You know damn well what I am talking about.” She points her index finger at you, smiling. “I’m really happy that two of my favorite people started dating.”

“We are not dating.”

“If you say so!”

“I know so!” You saw all of your teammates leave for the locker room, “I have to go. Take care, okay? Don’t do anything stupid. Ti voglio bene.”

“Ti voglio bene. And you, too, don’t do anything that I wouldn’t do.”

“So you would fuck Alexia?” You began laughing.

“Eww, no. I’ll leave that to you.”

You playfully roll your eyes at her and then quickly hug her. “Bye, Mapi.”

“Bye.”

You quickly go to the locker room, but the UEFA people told you that you had just won the MOTM, so they wanted to give it to you. You pose for the picture, leave to change, and get ready for the night. You were exhausted. You kept yawning and barely kept your eyes open. But that night, you were going to see Alexia, and you really didn’t want to disappoint her. 

That night, you picked her up from her hotel to get to your place; you were having a really relaxed and enjoyable conversation when you got inside your house and led her to your bedroom. You sat on her lap, and as you were about to kiss her for the first time in nearly six months, you yawned. 

“Are you sure you want to do this? You look exhausted. Do you want to sleep?” She asks you worriedly, stopping you from doing anything else.

“No, no, I’m good. I don’t want to waste your time. I’ll be fine.” You go to kiss her, but once again, she stops you. She starts rubbing your thigh, soothing your aching muscles, making you close your eyes in relaxation.

“You are not wasting my time, cariño. I’m just happy to see you. We haven’t seen each other in nearly six months. We can just sleep if you want. We don’t have to do anything if you are not up to it.”

“I really like it.” You leave a small kiss on her nose.

“What?”

“The nickname, cariño.” You explain, feeling a warmth spreading in your chest. It had been some time since anyone had given you a nickname.

“Sorry, it just slipped.” She says, slightly blushing.

“I love it. Is it a problem for you if we just sleep? I’m really exhausted.”

“I’m okay with that. I’m really tired, too.”

“At what time do you leave tomorrow?”

“Not until in the afternoon.”

“Do you maybe want to stay tonight?” You ask shyly, tucking your head in her neck.

“There’s no other place that I would rather be.”

She makes you stand up, searching for something while you look at her confused.

“So, do you have any fresh clothes to change in? I don’t think you want to sleep in jeans.” She asks you while you point at your closet. She opens the first drawer and chuckles. 

“Is that my shirt?” She throws it at you, making your face turn pink.

“Well, it’s comfy, and it smells like you. Correction: It smelled like you. Now it’s just the fabric’s smell.”  

“I thought you had thrown it away.” She remarks sadly, throwing at you a pair of shorts.

“Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know.” She insecurely looks at you, changing the topic. “Can I borrow some shorts?”

“You can borrow anything you want.”

She takes a pair of shorts from your drawer and leaves to the bathroom to give you some privacy, which you thought was unnecessary as she has seen more of you than most people.

She returns to your room and lays down on your bed, making grabby hands for you to join her. You gladly do, sighing as you fall in her embrace, finally relaxing.

“Can I have a small kiss?” You ask her as you put your hand on her chest, quietly feeling her heartbeat.

“Ummm. Let me think about it.” She jokingly puts her hand on her chin, pretending to think. “Just one.” 

“Only one? You are making me work for them?” 

“Yep.” She pulls you for a slow kiss that takes your breath away. You hadn’t been kissing this woman for nearly half a year, and only now you realized how much you missed it. How much you missed her. As you finish the kiss, you both look at each other, “Okay, maybe another kiss.” You smile into the kiss as once again your lips met hers, and this time you melt into the kiss and break it off until you need to breathe again. 

“Buonanotte, Alexia”

“Goodnight, cariño.” You snuggle into her as she tightens her embrace, making you feel safe for the first time since you were little.

The next morning, you wake up with an empty bed. You sit up sadly, thinking Alexia left without saying goodbye or having breakfast. You leave your room and go to the kitchen to get some coffee, and there, you see her. She was rummaging through your cupboards when you walked to her and hugged her from behind.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning, cariño. Did you sleep well?” She feels her relax in your embrace while you snake your hands under her shirt, gently scratching her abs.

“Really, really well.” 

“I’m glad.”

“What are you doing?” You ask her, peeking with your head around her back.

“I’m trying to understand how this thing works.” You turn to see that she has it in her hands, a Moka.

You chuckle, gently pushing her to the side, taking it from her hands, and unscrewing the top of the coffee maker. You prepare the moka, and then you put it on the stove. In the meantime, you go to retrieve some mugs; they were on the highest cupboard, so you had to stand on your tippy toes to get the mugs, but your lover? Could you call her that? Walked behind you while putting a hand on your side and retrieved them for you, making you want to giggle at the action.

“Showing off your height, are we?”

“Me? Never. I’m just helping out my short queen.”

“Oh wow. How chivalrous.”

You both sit down at your little table and bring a piece of cake from your fridge.

“Do you want a piece?” You offer, getting a piece for you.

“Did you make it?”

“Yes, I did. Yesterday morning. It’s still good.”

“I swear to god, Y/N. You’ll get me out of shape if you keep feeding me.” She remarks jokingly, taking a bite from yours.

“Hey! That was mine!” You smack her hand away from your little plate, offended.

You stay together for another hour, and then you go back to the hotel very reluctantly. You didn’t know what it was, but something shifted that night between the two of you. You didn’t know if it was because you hadn’t seen each other in so long or because there were a lot of unresolved and unspoken feelings between the two of you. But when you said goodbye to her this time, it felt sadder and more longing.

You didn’t want to leave her side, nor did she, for that matter. You gave her a last kiss. She called you for the last time, cariño, and then she left. Leaving you this weird feeling lingering in your chest that you couldn’t quite pinpoint.

-

In the second leg of the Champions’sChampion, you didn’t play as you got injured two days before. It was nothing major, but it still stopped you from playing the match, which you really wanted to. You knew this would be your last season in Roma, and you wanted to bring your team to new heights.

As soon as the whistle blew, your team lost 2-0, and you felt a wave of sadness come over to you. And that was where it really hit you. This would be your last season at Roma, last season with the girls. You went on the pitch with your crutches, picking your teammates up from the ground and consoling them, trying to keep your own emotions at bay. Your team soon huddles up, and your coach makes a speech, but it was all a blur for you. You shut yourself off completely and left immediately after the pitch. 

You go inside the hallway away from the cameras and push your back to the wall, resigned. You didn’t cry. But you needed to isolate yourself and not show any weaknesses to your teammates. At least one of you needed to be strong.

“Cariño?” You hear a soothing whisper while hands cover your face. You recognize the warmth of the hands, which make you bask in contact. “Are you okay?”

“Alexia, what are you doing here? You should be out celebrating with your teammates. You got into the quarters.” You slightly push her away.

“Don’t push me away, please. What do you need?”

“I need a hug, please. Can you hug me?” Your eyes twinkle wetly with a vulnerability that Alexia has never seen before.

She quickly acquiesces to your needs and brings you in a tight hug. Your head was on her chest because of the height difference, and you could feel her heartbeat soothing and giving a rhythm to your brain. She began placing small kisses on the top of your head, and her hands rubbed your back to give you as much comfort as possible.

“Are you okay?” She whispers worriedly.

“I just realized that this will be my last Champions League with Roma and my last year with my teammates. I just feel a little vulnerable. But I’ll be okay, eventually.”

“Let’s get you home.”

“Alexia. I will be no good company tonight. When I am sad, I only watch romance movies or listen to sad songs. It’s not pretty. And you don’t have any obligation towards me.”

“I know, but I still want to. We can do all those things that you listed together. Let me take care of you.” She offers, smiling earnestly at you, making it impossible for you to say no.

“Okay, but if at any time you want me to go, I’ll leave. I’d hate to be a burden.” She rolls her eyes at your stubbornness. 

She kisses your forehead. “Give me five minutes, and I’ll be with you.” She left quickly to her changing room, making you smile dumbly at her. At that specific moment, Mapi casually walks past you, rolling her eyes. “Definitely just hooking up.” She says ironically, leaving without the opportunity to say anything else.

Alexia was back to you in precisely five minutes and ready to leave. Meanwhile, you told your teammate that you would leave alone and be back tomorrow morning, to which she replied with a very suggestive smirk. You honestly really weren’t hiding anymore the fact that you were hooking up with a Barcelona player. All the team basically knew it, also your national team, so it was no surprise.

-

You get to her home, and she soon gives you some of her clothes to make you more comfy and then makes you sit on the couch and gives you a small blanket. Her little dog, Nala, sat on your lap, asking for cuddles. It was almost perfect, it just needed-

“Do you need something else? Do you want some food? Something to drink?” She was acting all serious, and while you just beamed at her, you realized that nobody had ever wanted to take care of you like she was doing right now. Your heart exploded with affection for the woman who was currently making herself so available to your every need.

“I just need you. Can you hold me, please?” She quickly sits on the couch and waits for you to come to her. “Watch out for my leg; it’s still injured.” You lightly warn her so she would make any movements towards your leg.

Your head was on her chest, some romance movie was playing in the background, and she was whispering sweet nothings in your ear, trying to lighten your fragile mood.

“So this is going to be your last year at Roma? You are not renewing?” You shake your head.

“So, where are you going?”

“Is that really a question when you already know the answer?” You tell her you weren’t looking at her face, but you could feel her face adorn with another one of her beautiful smiles.

“You are moving to Barcelona?” She asks, clearly trying to hide her excitement.

“Nothing is official yet, but I already talked to your coach. If everything goes to plan, we will be teammates. But don’t say anything to Mapi. I want to give her a surprise.”

“So we will play together? On the same team?” 

“Si, piccola mia. We will play on the same team.”

“I guess we were never meant to play against each other.” She chuckles jokingly.

“I guess not. I think we were destined to play together.”

#barcelona femeni #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #co #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso fic #alexia putellas one shot

[earlgreyflowers]

and i conclude with 36 + lando

(ofc no pressure on any of the asks, feel free to ignore any/all of them if they don’t tickle ur fancy hehe)

It’s winter break and you’ve never been more grateful to have Lando home, except for the fact that all he's done is game with Max.

Every. Single. Night.

First it was Rocket League, and then Counter Strike, and then Tarkov, and now you were sat in the background watching him yell at Fall Guys. Part of you had to admit that it was comical watching him try and fail so many times, but you wanted attention. There was only so much watching you could do, you're just a girl after all. You silently make your way over to Lando's gaming chair, draping yourself over the side to rest your chin on his shoulder. "How much longer will you be baby?" You whisper, lifting his headset slightly so he hears you.

"Like an hour maybe, I'm not sure. Why? Are you hungry? I can order food?" He suggests, eyes flicking briefly from the screen to look at you. "Don't need food." You whine, pouting lightly before placing a gentle kiss to Lando's neck. He swallows thickly, "Babe my friends can all hear, what do you want me to do?" He murmurs, muting himself whilst he waits for the next round. "Want you Lando." You tell him, continuing to press kisses across his neck, travelling along his jaw, feeling it clench with each soft touch of your lips.

"Just let me finish this level and I swear I'll go down on you until you cum at least three times." He tells you, pleading eyes under his glasses. You sigh, "Fine. But I'm holding you to that." He winks up at you before unmuting himself and picking up his controller to play the next round. You lay yourself on the centre of the bed, zoning out on your phone as Lando continues playing. You hear the occasional yell or slam of the controller, nothing unusual when he's gaming. You get lost in the world of Instagram, swiping through Daniel's end of season .jpg post.

You forget about Lando's promise, that is until you feel his warm hands on your thighs. You jump with the touch and he chuckles at you, "Gonna let me fulfil my promise baby?" He whispers, his warm breath tickling the apex of your thighs. Lando smirks when you raise your hips to allow him to remove your pyjama shorts. "Thank you princess." He smiles, kissing your lips before returning to his position between your legs. His lips explore your inner thighs, hands gently prying your legs apart. Soft whimpers escape your lips at the light scratch of his new facial hair.

His lips cover practically every inch of your thighs before his tongue darts out to flick at your entrance, collecting the arousal that's collected there. He starts slow, snaking his tongue through your folds, groaning at the taste of you on his tongue. His tongue swirls around your clit, flicking gently as his hand rests on your pubic bone, keeping your hips still. His lips encase your clit, causing you to moan out as he sucks lightly, his tongue swirling and flicking. He eats you out like a man starved, uncaring about the way your arousal coats his mouth or the way his spit begins to soak you further.

He brings his finger to your entrance, circling it around the pulsing hole before pushing in. Your hips buck as your back arches away from the mattress, Lando moaning against your pussy at the way you clench around his finger. He curls his finger, his tongue working overtime on your clit as he slips a second finger in to join the first.

"Fuck Lando, oh my god." You moan, hand gripping the back of his head, tangling in his curls. He continues his ruthless pace drawing your first orgasm from you unbelievably quickly, but he doesn't stop. He slows his pace, lightly guiding you through your orgasm. Once he feels the pulsing of your walls slow he curls his fingers once more, attacking your g-spot as he sucks your clit back into his mouth. You scream out in overstimulation, your legs shaking as his hand becomes sticky with arousal. His hips begin to rut into the mattress, desperate for an ounce of friction. Your first orgasm hardly fades as the second one barrels into you, your walls clenching Lando's fingers so tight he could swear they would break.

This time he does pull away, encouraged by the way you frantically push at his head. You use your grip on his head to pull his lips to yours, he groans in your mouth at the feeling of your tongue. His groan turns into a whimper as you cup his bulge, massaging gently. He wraps his hand around your wrist, pulling your hand away, causing you to look at him in confusion.

"I said at least three didn't I?" He smirks, kissing his way back down your stomach to finish his meal.

#f1 smut #formula one smut #f1 fanfic #f1 x female reader #formula one fanfiction #formula one imagine #lando smut #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #lando norris #ln4 smut #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #ln4 fanfiction

[wilteddreamsofbaldursgate]

Darling, Mind if I Enjoy Myself?

Astarion x fem!Tav/Reader || ao3 || Masterlist Rating: E Word Count: 2.8k Summary: Astarion walks in on you pleasuring yourself and takes it upon himself to be of utmost assistance to your endeavours. CW: 18+. Smut with fluff. Teasing. Masturbation. Vaginal fingering. Vaginal sex.

“I’m not interrupting anything, am I, darling?”

As a matter of fact—he was, and Astarion knew that very well. He also knew that your pathetic little gasp wasn’t a sign of chased-after relief but surprise. So much surprise, in fact, that your hand had startled into a highly frustrating stillness between your legs; you’d been so close…

All thanks to Astarion’s masterfully quiet feet, you hadn’t heard him re-enter the chamber and his untimely intrusion had your body torn between wanting to freeze and jump out of your skin—and that, too, the bastard knew. The unveiled amusement dripping from his words clearly gave him away.

Embarrassed at the heat rising in your cheeks, you squeezed your eyes shut, at once thankful that you wouldn’t have to see the stupid smirk on his face as he sauntered over to your bed.

“Had you waited half an hour for me to finish my bath, I would’ve been more than happy to assist in your delightful endeavours, my sweet.”

Another matter of fact was that Astarion’s bathing routine did not take half an hour. You hadn’t at all expected to see him again until just before dawn.

Suppressing a scoff, you licked the overripe curse from your lips before replacing it with a lazy smile. You had to play this smart, otherwise Astarion would never let you live this down.

“Enjoying yourself, Astarion?” You purred, slowly opening your eyes in what you hoped was a casual if not playful manner.

His pale face was now close enough for you to touch. He crouched next to the bed, head supported on one hand while he grinned at you. 

“Darling, with you? Always!” 

Astarion’s hair was still wet, you noticed. Wayward drops of water glistered in the pale moonlight, making him look as if he’d been kissed by morning dew. A single water drop caught your attention by running from his temple down his cheekbone before it gathered in the valley of his sensuous cupid’s bow. All you had to do was lean forward and kiss it away, but—

You followed Astarion’s sharp gaze to where your hand vanished under the hem of your nightdress. 

Your fingers still rested heavily against the damp heat of your inner thigh, aching to finish what they’d started in the pleasure of your own company.  

Your smile turned into a grin of your own. Two could play this game.

“Like what you see?” 

“Plenty,” Astarion confirmed without a moment’s hesitation, inching closer to rest his chin atop his hands on the mattress. “You don’t mind me watching, do you?”

Crimson eyes peered up at you through ridiculously long lashes—just like they were wont to do when Astarion put his mouth to very good use on you. By the way his grin widened knowingly, you understood that this particular look was by far no accident.

You cocked your head as if to ponder his question, even though you were already back to stroking your fingers over your slick folds. 

Whatever the damn elf was doing, it surely was working—but he didn't need to know that, yet. 

“Why, only if you don’t mind me thinking of you…?”

Astarion’s movement was too swift for you to follow. 

He’d given a short laugh in one second and the next he was towering over you. The mattress shifted under his weight; a single water drop detached itself from the tip of one of his locks, falling right onto your half-exposed collarbone. In one swift motion, Astarion dove after it. 

Agonisingly slow, his cold tongue gathered up the liquid, leaving a wet kiss in its place before he drew back again. 

His bold attack was over the moment it had begun. 

“I would feel rather insulted if you didn't, pet,” Astarion drawled, slowly settling down next to you.  

His grin had turned impish as he laid on his side, lazily propped up on one elbow as he watched you try and fail to regain your composure. 

You let out a shaky breath, which only earned you another laugh. 

“Oh, go on, now, dear—I see you’re growing…impatient.”

And go on you did.

Astarion’s way of assisting you in your delightful endeavours could range from fucking you senseless to watching you cum on your own fingers and if he wanted a show today, he could have one. You had no idea where tonight might lead, but you were hells-bent on getting your release one way or the other.

You held Astarion’s gaze as you dipped a finger back into the feverish wetness spreading between your legs, another following suit right after. 

A content sigh slipped past your lips as your fingers circled your swollen clit—which Astarion graced readily by draping your leg across his hip. 

Your breath hitched again as the sudden change of position opened up more room for your endeavour, but it was his cold touch upon you that really stroked the fire underneath your skin.

Astarion’s lithe fingers traced along your ankle, your calf, your knee, hiking up your nightdress until it pooled around your waist—laying your desire bare to him. 

You bit your lip in an effort to keep your eyes from fluttering shut. 

“Enjoying yourself, sweet thing?”

Astarion pulled you closer, knowing very well the impact he had on you—he had a front-row seat, after all. 

“With you? Always,” you panted, your movement growing increasingly erratic as your need soared under his teasing touch. 

You couldn’t quite tell if you were more aroused by your own hand dragging you towards release or by Astarion’s thumbs drawing lazy circles across your skin—so at odds with the urgent pace in which you pleasured yourself.  

You had your answer when his hand fanned out on the back of your thigh, only to inch up further to firmly squeeze your ass.

He let out yet another short laugh at the impetuous moan he elicited from you, though this time it was huskier, more reflex than amusement and he leaned over, his breath tickling your ear. 

“You know,” Astarion whispered as if he were about to reveal a grand secret to you. “I've been thinking about that divine ass of yours all day long.” 

Taking in a sharp breath, you wondered if he realised that his fingertips dug almost painfully deep into your flesh, pinning you in place while your hips tried to chase your hand.

“Only good things, I wager?” 

“The very best,” Astarion breathed against the soft spot between your ear and jaw before his lips travelled across your cheek, only stopping when the tip of his nose grazed yours. 

If he were to kiss you now, you wouldn’t last much longer.

But his lips didn’t meet yours. His eyes were far too busy darting to and fro between your flushed face and dripping wet cunt. 

A slight frown settled between Astarion’s eyes—giving away that he was still considering how much of an assistance he wanted to be tonight. 

There was no denying that you wanted Astarion buried deep inside you, to have him ease that insatiable, torturous desire only he could ignite in you. 

But more than that you wanted—needed—him to want it, too.

Giving him time to sort out what he wanted tonight, your hand slowed into a gentler pace, but this only seemed to fully entrance Astarion. 

The grin long gone, he wet his lips, his eyes darkening. You knew that look all too well; he’d beheld you the same way mere hours ago, right before he’d sunken his fangs into your neck. Want. Hunger. Need. 

Lust. 

It only took another moment for Astarion’s lips to finally brush against yours.

“Mind if I join?” He rasped. His hand wandered down your thigh, grabbing the back of your knee to pull you flush against him. 

Through his loose pants, you could feel his hardening cock rub against your inner thigh as he re-adjusted your leg over his hip, riding up his shirt in the process. 

You urged your leg even higher, hooking it around his waist, moaning at the sweet sensation of his cold skin pressed against your burning flesh.

“Please do,” you almost begged. Couldn’t he see how badly you needed him?

But your consent had barely left your lips that Astarion’s hand slid between your legs, his fingers interlacing with your own. He took up your earlier pace caressing your clit, sending shivers down your spine as he guided two of your joined fingers inside you—stroking that delicious spot that always made you see stars.

Tilting your head back, you let out a blissful little cry which Astarion rewarded with a groan of his own as he traced lingering kisses down your throat. 

You arched your back shamelessly against Astarion’s half-exposed chest, getting rapidly close to your climax. As your hand grew useless from pleasure, animated only by the invisible strings Astarion pulled, all you could do was chase your relief. It would only take a few more strokes of Astarion’s finger, another sweet kiss tickling your skin to send you over the edge and—

You could barely suppress the indignant sound of protest rising in your throat when both hands between your legs came to an abrupt halt. 

“Fuck,” Astarion grunted into the crook of your neck before he suddenly withdrew from you, pulling your own hand along—leaving you empty and trembling with scorching need. 

You wanted to cry.

For a frustratingly long moment, you thought Astarion had changed his mind about your endeavours; that he would retreat to his mischievous voyeurism and leave you to your own devices once more. 

But instead of untangling himself from you, he pushed you onto your back, nesting his hips right between your shaking legs.

His arm came down next to your head and from the corner of your eye, you could see his pale hand glister with your arousal. 

Half-dried, dishevelled locks were plastered to his forehead as Astarion looked down at you, pupils blown with lust—no doubt a mirror of your own. 

“Properly,” he said, his free hand tugging at your nightdress. “Let me fuck you properly. You don’t mind, do you?”

If you weren’t half delirious with pent-up need you might’ve laughed at him. 

“Do whatever you want with me, Astarion,” you pressed through clenched teeth, eagerly helping him work the offending garment over your head. “Enjoy yourself.”

Astarion welcomed your breast with his mouth. By the way his tongue circled your oversensitive nipple, it rather seemed like your ass hadn’t been the only thing on his mind. 

You arched into his kiss, hissing when his fangs grazed your tender flesh. 

His shoulders trembled with a silent laugh before he abandoned your breast in favour of your collarbone and neck, your jaw and finally, again, your lips.

You raked your fingers through Astarion’s locks that were made soft and fragrant by the soap and oils he’d used earlier; pulling him closer, you deepened your kiss. Couldn’t he taste how starved you were for him? 

You were desperate when you hooked your other leg around Astarion’s waist, tugging and sucking at his bottom lip. All you could feel was his still outrageously clothed erection rubbing against your stomach, driving you insane—that, and the cursed bastard smirk melting against your mouth. 

Astarion was enjoying himself all right. 

You bit down on his lip.

It only took a second before you could taste iron on your tongue. Astarion pulled away slowly, still smirking as he licked a blossoming bead of blood off his lips. The sight of him was so heady, so obscene, that your mouth hung agape. 

“You vicious, impatient little thing, you,” he chuckled, cupping your hand clawing at his hair, slowly guiding it to his shoulders, his chest, down to the lacing of his trousers. This time, you bit back a moan. 

“But you’ve been so good, always letting me have all this fun when I haven’t even fucked you yet.”

He let out a low hum when he dragged your palm over his taut crotch, undoing the front lacing with the help of your greedy little fingers. 

“But you’ve waited enough, now, haven’t you?” 

Yes! You nodded fervently, his lust-strained voice music to your ears. Yes, you had! 

Astarion let go of your hand to free himself of his trousers, urged on by the way you helped shove them down his thighs. Tears burned in your eyes when you finally caught a glimpse of his beautiful, erect cock. 

For all his teasing, Astarion didn’t waste any time now. 

Grabbing your hip, he aligned you with him, only to tease your throbbing clit with the wet tip of his cock. 

“Astarion…” you whined, arching harder against him—and he was nothing if not a merciful lover. This once, at least.  

By the time he slowly buried himself inside you inch by inch, you no longer cared for whatever noises escaped your mouth. 

For a deliciously long moment, you simply savoured the sensation of your walls stretching around him; Astarion’s hand kneading your hip, his lips back on yours, moaning sweetly into your mouth. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck, tugging at the collar of his shirt to feel your breasts squeeze up against his hard chest. Every inch between your bodies was too much to bear.

Astarion’s long eyelashes fluttered against your cheek as he began to roll his hips against yours.  

He set a slow, if not lazy pace—which was unexpected considering all his teasing, but not at all unwelcome. 

You met his rhythmic thrusts, smiling when he pressed his forehead to yours. It was something he’d only taken up after he’d become more comfortable having sex with you, and the gesture elated you every time. 

“Enjoying yourself, my heart?” You breathed in the rare moment your lips parted from his. 

There was no witty or snide remark rolling off Astarion’s tongue, now. Instead, he could only grunt in reply, his eyebrows knitted in concentration—evidence that it took him everything to focus on his self-imposed arduous pace.

Knowing that it was you who did this to him—that it was your body that had him speechless every time he fucked you—had you clench violently around his cock. 

Groaning, Astarion brought his hand back down to your leg. He blindly untangled it from around his waist before pinning it against the mattress with his knee—opening you up even more for him. 

Clearly unable to restrain himself any longer, his pace sped up. 

With new vigour, Astarion pounded into you, hitting that perfect sweet, sweet spot over and over again; eliciting a whimper from you with every frantic thrust of his hips.

You knew he was close to his release when you felt his cock twitch in anticipation, spurring on your own ecstasy. 

You eventually found yourself dissolving into your own pleasure as Astarion spent himself deep inside you.

Unwilling to miss a second of his undoing, though, you watched him squeeze his eyes shut, deepening his frown as his pace became gentler, but not less effective. The sight of his parted lips, the paper-thin skin of his eyelids made pink by your blood circulating underneath his skin—it was nearly enough to push you over the edge. 

Nearly.

You bucked your hips against him, desperate for more friction, more of him. Once again, you wrapped your leg around his waist, pulling him deeper into you; you could never be close enough to him—never have enough of him. 

As if reading your mind, Astarion’s lips found yours once more. He wound his hand between your bodies, cupping your breast, caressing your lower stomach before he slid his hand down between your legs to mingle with his cock.

Knowing you would never tire of this—of him—you let yourself fall, and Astarion’s perfect nimble fingers assisted you graciously through your climax before he collapsed on top of you.

Together, you waited out the aftershock of your orgasm, his cock slowly softening inside you.

“Darling, I take you enjoyed this… admittedly mediocre performance?” 

Astarion’s voice was still raspy with pleasure and faint traces of unwarranted insecurity. 

You gave him a short laugh. “Mediocre?” 

Astarion only shrugged before he wrapped his arms around your waist, hugging you to him. 

“I’m enjoying whatever you’re willing to give me, Astarion,” you reminded him, pressing your lips to his forehead. “Always.”  

Astarion’s telltale smirk tugged at his lips as he rested his head in the valley of your breasts. “Very good, my sweet, because I want to thoroughly enjoy myself with you again. And again. And again…” 

You chuckled. “Very good, because I would not mind that at all.”

#astarion #astarion x tav #astarion bg3 #astarion smut #astarion x female reader #astarion x f!tav #astarion x you #astarion x f!reader #astarion x female tav #astarion fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 smut #baldurs gate 3 #astarion ancunin #emicha writes #wilteddreamsbg3

[autlantic]

. • TRUTH OR DARE

BILL KAULITZ X READER

summary: being the opening act for tokio hotel entails a lot of alcohol and a lot of bad decisions.

warnings: alcohol, all your basic smut features

a/n: HELLO ALL !! this is my first time writing in over a year so this is a bit shabby, but we’re all in our kaulitz twins phase atm so worth it <3 feel free to send me prompts, i’ll write a lil drabble

. • . • .

Somehow, every night after touring ended up like this.

You, the opening act for tokio hotel, and the rest of the band sat round with an unhealthy amount of alcohol, playing the most stupid drinking games imaginable.

“Let’s play truth or dare.” You suggested, leaning back into the plush seats of the luxury hotel room. Playing Gustav’s card games had led to one two many arguments; mainly between the oh so competitive Bill and Tom.

“What about truth or drink? Or dare or drink? Truth or dare or drink even!” Bill chimed in, manicured hands reaching eagerly for the bottle of vodka set out in front of him.

Looking around, everyone nodded in agreement at the suggestion. Bill continued.

“Alright then, Gustav, truth or dare?”

The boy in question sighed, taking a large swig of his beer before answering. “Truth.”

“Is it true you’ve only slept with two fans this whole tour?”

You couldn’t help but giggle at Bill’s invasive question. Tom had girls in every night- you could hear them through the walls which was a massive pain and pretty gross- but as far as you knew Gustav wasn’t as interested in the groupies.

“Yeah, only two.” The drummer replied, causing an uproar of laughter from the rest of the band. You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling at their childish antics.

As the game continued, the alcohol started diminishing. Tom had gone streaking down the hallway, Georg had been ding-dong ditching and all of you were completely wasted.

Finally, it had come to your turn.

“Okay… our favourite girl, truth or dare?” Tom asked, staring you down as if to challenge you. You leaned forwards, answering with a simple “Dare.”

Seeing as it was Tom asking, this probably wasn’t the best decision; he had a devious look in his eyes that made you instantly regret your decision.

“I dare you…” He started, spinning his lip piercing in thought as everyone waited intently. “To take a piece of clothing off every time someone drinks.” The dreadlocked boy finished, smirking proudly at his dare. Bill clapped in glee until you sent him a teasing glare. Before you could even respond, both twins had taken a large sip of their drinks.

“That’s not fair!” You exclaimed, pointing accusingly at the two, “Surely it’s only one item if you both drink at once!” Your complaints were ignored, met only with a chant of ‘take it off! take it off!’. Looking down at what you were wearing, you cursed yourself for having already removed your shoes. Thinking for a moment, you removed one of the necklaces hanging round your neck, Bill uttering a sound of protest.

“That doesn’t count as clothes, love.”

“You’re all pervs.” You teased, slowly starting to unbutton and unzip your jeans instead. Tom let out a wolf whistle as you slid the material down your legs, revealing the skimpy piece of black lace you’d thrown on this morning before knowing you’d be on display. Jeans were the safest option to remove seeing as you’d gone braless under your shirt. Now stood in your (barely there) underwear in front of a group of staring boys, it was time for some revenge.

“Bill, truth or dare?” You spoke, eyeing up the handsome singer. “My eyes are up here by the way.”

Bill slowly moved his eyes from the soft skin of your thighs and stomach up to your waiting eyes. God, they were all shameless.

“Dare.”

“I dare you to kiss the most attractive person in the room.” You smirked, shameless yourself thanks to the ungodly amounts of alcohol you’d consumed in the last hour. You leaned slightly against the wall behind you, eyes narrowed expectantly at he gazed at you in surprise.

Jumping to his feet, Bill practically fell over himself rushing up to you, grabbing you by the hips before smothering his lips over yours. The kiss was wet, and you could taste the vodka on his breath as he pushed his tongue into your mouth eagerly. His fingers, nails painted black, gripped your hips and waist firmly as you pulled at his loose and for once not styled black hair. A moment later you were pulling apart, pupils dilated and gasping for breath.

“Well that’s just not fair.”

Glancing over, you fought back a laugh at the jealous expression painted across Tom’s features. His eyebrows were furrowed, arms crossed over his chest. He’d been watching.

It was a bit of an unspoken rule that you didn’t get with any of the boys; if anyone caught you, their opening act, in an intimate position with a band member, you’d both be in big trouble from management.

“Where’s my kiss, baby?” He continued, pouting and leaning towards you for a kiss. You threw a pillow at him, causing Georg and Gustav to fall over laughing. Bill still seemed shell shocked and followed you over to the sofa like a lost puppy.

“Shit, it’s almost 2am. We should probably get some sleep.” Georg spoke, checking his watch. There was a lot of travelling to be done the next day. Gustav nodded in agreement, standing up and starting to grab his things. The two more sensible boys headed out, not without a quip of “don’t have too much fun without us!”

You turned to Tom, and he threw the pillow right back at you. “Get out of my room lovebirds.” He snickered, laughing at Bill’s pink flush. You smiled and pinched his cheek, causing him to slap your hand away playfully.

“Come on, Billy.”

Bill grabbed your hand, pulling you through the door and into the hallway. Once the door was shut, he pushed you roughly against the wall, brushing a piece of hair out of your face.

“You’re such a tease, you know that?” He spoke lowly, his brown eyes darkening as he trailed his thumb from your cheek to your lower lip, slipping it inside your mouth. Surprised at his boldness, you sucked softly on his finger, the cold metal of the rings he had on sending shockwaves right through you. He shuddered, withdrawing his finger after a few seconds and dragging you across the hall to his room. You suddenly felt all too conscious of your lack of clothing, your jeans still lying somewhere on Tom’s floor.

Once the door was shut, Bill’s lips were against yours once more, the warmth of his body pressed up against yours as the kiss grew heated and his hands began to roam across your flushed skin. Barely separating as the two of you stumbled over to his bed, you pushed aside any thoughts of possible consequences and focused on his mouth. Your legs opened automatically as he climbed on top of you, his tongue exploring the delicate skin of your neck as a breathy moan left your lips.

“Fuck, we shouldn’t be doing this.” He muttered, hands pulling at the fabric of your shirt.

“I don’t care.” You whined in response, letting him pull the fabric off of your body, revealing you to him.

His soft brown eyes gazed at your exposed skin, painted fingernails trailing soft lines across your skin leaving goosebumps in their wake. You pawed at his belt, Bill moving back slightly so you could undo the buckle with shaking hands. Pulling his shirt off, the singers lips attached to yours once again as he trailed his hands to the hem of your underwear.

He dipped one finger below the lacey fabric, smirking as you to pushed your hips into his hands desperately. Hearing your whimper of ‘please’, he finally pushed your underwear to the side, thumb pressing directly against your sensitive nub. You whined as he began drawing small circles, wetness seeping from you as your head fell back against the pillows. Without warning, Bill slid a finger inside your slick walls, drawing out a moan that made him grin. “Shh, baby. Don’t want anyone to hear you do we?” He cooed, adding a second finger and picking up speed as you tried to keep quiet. You could hear the slick sounds of his fingers as he curled them upwards, causing you to call out his name desperately.

Feeling pleasure build up inside you, you reached to palm him through his jeans, causing his motions to stutter. You whined as he pulled away, but watched on as he began to pull off the only layers separating you from what you really wanted. Eyes wide, you gazed as he pulled down his boxers, cock springing free and hitting his stomach. It was long, oozing precum and you couldn’t help but reach to grab it, slowly stroking his member as his eyes screwed shut in content.

“Please, Bill.” You begged, wrapping your arms round his neck to pull him closer, gasping slightly as you felt his cock press against the opening of your heat. For a moment, you both pause as desire permeates the air in the hotel room.

Pulling back for a split second, Bill pushes the head of his cock into your entrance, groaning at the feeling of the hot velvet surrounding him. Pushing forward further, you cry out as he buries his cock all the way in, legs shaking around his hips as he brushes your most sensitive spots. Withdrawing slightly, he suddenly bullies his cock back inside, picking up a pace that leaves you breathless and writhing.

“God you feel so good.” He groans, one hand gripping your hip as the other moves to your clit, adding a new dimension to the pleasure taking over your body.

Bill’s hips stutter, his grunts and moans becoming more frequent.

“Inside.” You manage to get out, lips parted and brows furrowed as you near your orgasm.

He falters at your words, spilling inside of you as his head falls to your shoulder. A loud moan spills from your lips as the combined feeling of his fingers and being filled so deeply push you over the edge, orgasm crashing over you like a tsunami.

A solid five minutes pass, the two of you still curled up against each other before he finally pulls out, cum dripping against the inside of your thighs.

“Sorry.” He grins, pulling you against his bare chest and burying his face in your hair. You flush pink, this somehow feeling much more intimate than hooking up itself.

“No you’re not.” You giggle, cozying into him and ignoring the consequences of the morning.

“No i’m not.”

#tokio hotel #bill kaulitz #tom kaulitz #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz smut #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel smut #kaulitz twins #kaulitz twins x reader #kaulitz twins smut

[dilemmaontwolegs]

And Carlos having to watch in Abu Dhabi as they get to publicly be together. Maybe that’s why he crashed out in FP2, she was on his mind…

This is now canon.

Can it be an epilogue?

Lady in Red {4} || CS55 & CL16

Summary: It's the final event of the season and plans are being made for winter, but first there's some mind games going on at Ferrari Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, bj, fingering, toxic behaviour WC: 2.4k One || Two || Three || Four

Charles felt your fingers slip away from his as you neared the entrance to the track. Confused, he reached for them again and looked at your reflection in the car window. Turning away from the lines of fans waiting for a glimpse of the drivers, you met his green eyes. “Sorry, force of habit,” you apologised sheepishly. 

You had confessed everything to him when he tried to kiss you at the end of the night in Vegas. Ever the gentleman, he had walked you to your room but when he leaned closer, just like you wanted him to, the words had tumbled out. He knew everything; how you had been played by Carlos and, even worse, what you had done knowing he was in a relationship.

Lacing your fingers tighter, he raised them to his lips and kissed them. “You don’t have to hide with me.”

You smiled at the truth and leaned into his side as the car came to a stop. “I know.”

It felt strange stepping out into the spotlight with all of your clothes on. You were used to the wind kissing your skin through the thin lingerie you were being paid to promote with your body, pretending you weren’t freezing cold when night fell. It was comfortable to walk hand in hand with Charles, in a fairly plain dress that you had chosen. You weren’t here for business, it was purely pleasure.

“What are your plans for the break?” you asked as he settled into his driver's room. 

He pulled his t-shirt off and traded it for the fireproof long sleeved shirt you had grabbed from the shelf. Your eyes lingered on the toned skin that disappeared beneath the shirt and he combed a hand through his hair that had messed up. “My plans or our plans?”

“I didn’t know we had plans,” you said coyly. 

He kicked off his jeans and smirked as you hid the fireproof pants behind your back. His body pressed to yours as he dominated your space, reaching around your back and catching your hands in his much larger ones. 

“Then we will have to change that, chérie. Unless you have something already planned?”

He pulled you closer and dipped his head to yours, kissing you until your body relaxed and your hands released his clothes. 

“I suppose I can clear my schedule for you,” you sighed jokingly, smiling when his lips tugged up again. 

“Don’t go out of your way,” he said sarcastically as he pulled his fireproofs up and jumped to get the tight leggings into place. “I would hate to be a nuisance.”

“Such a pest,” you noted, dropping onto his couch and tucking your legs up. You rested your chin on your knees and watched him sip from his bottle to keep hydrated. “What did you have in mind?”

“Do you like skiing?”

“Never tried. I’ll probably be terrible and complain about the cold,” you admitted with a laugh. “I hope you are a good teacher.”

“The best, chérie.” He winked your way as he pulled his racing suit on, shrugging the shoulders up so he could close the velcro collar. When he had his boots on and his balaclava in his hands, he bent down and kissed you goodbye. “I’ll see you after practice.”

“Drive safe.”

Charles had done well to avoid Carlos for most of the week. The two drivers had been on separate media panels and had barely spoken outside of team meetings or whatever silly games they were told to play by management. Those had been tense to say the least. 

There was no avoiding him however when they finished FP1 and spoke to the media. They had both finished their interviews at the same time and were heading in the same direction to hospitality.

“Did your girlfriend tell you about me? About the things we did?” Carlos goaded his teammate as they walked along. They both smiled and waved to the fans and the cameras but Carlos’ one was straining under the force of his.

“She told me everything, but we all make mistakes,” Charles replied calmly, his smile never wavering as he signed autographs for the young fans. “That’s all you are to her, a mistake.”

“We’ll see about that: once a whore, always a whore.” Carlos threw his arm over Charles’ shoulders and pulled him closer, slapping his chest patronisingly. “You’re vanilla, Chuck. Vanilla is boring once you’ve had a bit of spice. Why do you think they call me Chilli?” 

Carlos pushed away with a laugh and left the Monegasque with the words playing on his mind. Charles was still thinking about them when he met you in his driver's room. He closed the door a little too hard and you frowned at the change in him. He had been smiling in the media pit, proud of how the first practice went, but now he was sour as he started to strip his clothes off.

“Is everything okay?” you asked as you touched his back lightly, feeling his move out of your touch. “Oh, okay. I’ll leave you alone then.”

You grabbed your handbag and reached for the door but Charles stretched over you to plant his hand on the top, the press of his chest against your back. His lips brushed the shell of your ear and his other hand snaked over your hip, drifting down your abdomen. “Am I boring?”

Your head fell back to his shoulder as his fingers followed the shape of your body and slipped between your legs. “No,” you whispered as you remembered he had asked you a question. “Did Carlos say something?”

Charles' hand disappeared as he pushed away from you with a huff. “Were you seriously thinking about him?”

“I think you were,” you pointed out as you turned to face him and leaned against the door, crossing your arms. You stared at him for a moment and he looked away first, brushing a hand angrily through his hair - but the anger wasn’t aimed at you. 

“Fuck, he got in my head.”You crossed the room and caught his face in your hands, brushing your thumbs over the beard he sported. “Forget about him, Charles, I’m with you. You’re good for me, healthy.”

“Vanilla,” he muttered as he twisted his face away and sighed. 

“I’m going for a walk,” you murmured as he sank into the couch. “Give you some space.”

“Wait,” he said as you opened the door. “Come back.”

“I will, soon. Promise.” You closed the door behind you before marching across the motorhome to the other driver room and pounding your fist on Carlos’ door. “Open up.”

It swung open quickly, like he had been waiting for your visit and smirked as you stepped inside. “Hermosa, you look disappointed. Does Charles leave you unsatisfied?”

“I am disappointed, Carlos,” you said as you crossed your arms but quickly unfolded then when his eyes fell to the swell of your breasts. “Do you really have nothing better to do with your time?”

“There’s one improvement I can think of, and it isn’t talking, cariña.”

Your hands turned to fists at your side as he undressed you with his eyes, his tongue rolling across his bottom lip. “Don’t talk to Charles, don’t talk to me, don’t even think about me, okay?”

Carlos shrugged nonchalantly. “Hard to do, he’s my teammate.”

“You’ll find a way, or Rebecca will find out the truth. Wouldn’t that be fun? Imagine that, Carlos, she would drop you in an instant and once again you would be all alone - because I won’t be answering your call,” you threatened coldly as you took a step closer. “I will be too busy on holiday with my boyfriend - the one I will fuck in every possible way so no one could ever call him vanilla again.”

“He’ll never be enough,” Carlos called out as you stepped towards the door. “That thrill, of knowing you might be caught, you’ll never get that with him.”

“There’s other thrills to be had,” you smirked over your shoulder. “Maybe I’ll take a page out of your book and mess with your girlfriend. I could send Rebecca that two piece you loved so much. You remember, the red one, delicate, lace. The one that had you on your knees begging to fuck me in. Yeah…I think I like this new game, it’s just so thrilling.”

“You're not wearing red today,” he muttered.

“No, I’m not being paid to support Ferrari, I’m here for Charles.”

You left him unable to articulate a response and closed the door behind you with a dark smile. Charles was where you left him, fidgeting with his rings, and his head snapped up when you walked in. 

“You went to him?” It wasn’t an accusation, merely curiosity that filled his tone and he patted the space beside him.

“I did,” you confirmed, taking the seat he offered. His hand laced with yours and he settled them on his thigh as he leaned back into the couch with a heavy sigh. “I needed to clarify some things that he didn’t seem to understand.”

“I didn’t mean to push you away, or pin you to the door.”

“You didn’t,” you assured him as you rested your head on his shoulder. “Was kind of hot though.”

Charles laughed nervously. “Yeah, it was. Would it be alright if I did that?”

You peeked up under your lashes to see him looking intently at you. You didn’t realise he felt he needed permission but your heart skipped a beat over the fact he asked. You hadn’t really had that before and your body burned in response as you shifted on the seat to straddle his hips. “Yes, Charles.”

“Not too vanilla,” he teased, but the laughter never reached his eyes.

“I don’t know why you are so hung up on that,” you tutted. “Vanilla isn’t an insult. It’s classic and timeless, and perfect for all occasions.”

“I suppose so,” he mused, half convinced.

“You know what wouldn’t be vanilla?” He shook his head and watched you sink to the floor between his legs. Your hands found the waistband of his fireproofs and dragged them down as he lifted his hips. You wet your lips at the sight of his semi that was growing harder by the second. “Letting me do this, with the door unlocked.”

His eyes widened and his lips parted but before he could think better and ask you to stop your lips sealed around his cock and the only sound that escaped was a sated sigh. “Putain, tu te sens si bien.”

You hummed at the taste of him in your mouth and you pressed your tongue against his shaft as you took him deeper. Incoherent French filled the room and you delighted in the sounds as you ignored the need to breathe. There was nothing prettier than rolling your eyes up his body to see the complete awe on his face as he watched you pleasure him, your name on his lips. Not a nickname or an endearment, your name, because you weren’t a secret to hide.

“Je vais…je vais foutre,” he moaned loudly. His hands gripped your head and he snapped his hips up, choking you with his cock as he buried himself in your throat. A thick stream of cum filled your mouth as he sagged back into the couch, his cock twitching as you milked every last drop on your tongue and swallowed it. 

You sat back on your heels pleased with yourself. He was thoroughly relaxed as he curled his fingers to draw you back up onto his lap. 

“Thank you,” he said softly, his confidence completely restored. “I’m sorry I have to get ready to go, chérie, or I would happily return the favour.”

“I can wait,” you hummed as he started to tease you with his fingers anyway. He eased one into your cunt to find it already wet and ready for him, then he added a second and pressed his thumb to your clit. “Someone might walk in,” you whispered, but it turned to a moan at the circles he drew around your clit.

“Someone might,” he chuckled, clearly enjoying the idea as much as you were. 

His fingers worked you to a frenzy and you rode your hips over them as you chased your release. He swallowed the cries of your release with a deep kiss, his tongue dominating yours and sharing the taste of his musk that coated your tongue. Lifting his fingers to his lips, he held your eyes as he licked them clean and your pussy clenched at the sight.

“That’s not vanilla,” you said as you bit your lip and climbed off. “Not vanilla at all, baby.”

He grinned at the compliment and tucked himself away before standing up too. “I’ll see you after practice.”

“Drive safe.”

Charles didn’t stop smiling that night. His practice may not have had the top time but it was still a positive indicator that he was going to have a good pace for the race and better yet Carlos had crashed out. They had passed each other in the media pit and Charles didn’t have the ability to hide his smirk as he watched his teammate saunter off with a scowl on his face.

“I don’t know what you said to him, chérie,” Charles laughed at dinner with his friends, Carlos’ table much more reserved on the other side of the restaurant. “But I haven’t seen him that quiet, ever.”

“I just reminded him of his values,” you said with a sweet smile, and you fluttered your eyelashes too. “And what will happen if he tries to fuck with us again.”

“God, winter break can’t come soon enough,” Charles said as he took your hand and kissed it before draping his arm over your shoulders. Carlos shifted in his seat, eyebrows furrowing at you before he did the same to his girlfriend. “I don’t know if I will even want to leave the chalet.”

“One ski lesson with me and that might be the wise decision.”

Charles shook his head. “You’re not getting out of it, I told you, chérie, I’m the best.”

You smirked as your hand came to rest high up his thigh under the table. “Yes, yes you are.”

#charles leclerc fanfic #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc smut #formula one imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

[hughes86-43]

Post Game | Q.Hughes

warnings - none! maybe some spelling errors! this was a draft that I had and just now finished. hope you like it!

The buzzing energy of the crowd after a harrowing Canucks win has you out of your seat cheering along with them as the buzzer goes off signaling the end of the game. The Canucks came out with a 5-2 win and you couldn’t be happier for Quinn and the team. You talk to the rest of the wags while waiting on Quinn to text you back about where to meet him after he is done with media.

Glancing at your phone, you see he sent you a text.

quinn: I’ll be only about 10 more minutes if you want to go wait by the car?

you: okay I’ll be there

Saying goodbye to the other wags, and even some fans that recognized you as Quinn’s girlfriend, you make your way to his car. You didn’t have the key, so you just leaned against the car.

Eventually you see more players making their way to their own cars, so you know Quinn should be on his way.

Petey is one of those who is making his way towards his car, spotting you he teases you by saying, “Goodness he’s making you wait out here? Man what a boyfriend he is!”

“I know? Gosh making me wait forever on him!” You say back to him laughing.

“Gosh not my best friend and my girlfriend teaming up on me!” Quinn says as he spots you two standing by his car. “It was only like 10 minutes that she had to wait,” he says walking up to you and wrapping you in a hug.

“10 minutes is way too long for her to be waiting!” Petey says shaking his head at Quinn.

Quinn just laughs, “Oh be quiet! We’re heading home now, good game tonight. See you tomorrow, wait, we do have morning skate tomorrow right?”

Petey laughs, “Aren’t you supposed to be the captain and know all these things? Yes, at like 10? Anyway, have a good night you two.”

Waving back to him, you say, “Have a good night, drive safe!”

Quinn unlocks the car, opens the door for you and says, “Let’s head home, love.”

You climb into the passenger seat and buckle up while Quinn goes to his side of the car and climbs in. You give him a quick peck on the cheek, saying, “Good game tonight baby, the crowd was buzzing at the end, it was crazy!”

“I’m glad you were here for it. I play ten times better when you’re here.” He says as he turns the heat on in the car since he knows you get cold easily. Yawning he says, “What do you want to eat? Do you want to stop for something or do we have anything at home?”

Thinking on it, you suggest, “I think we should just stop and get something since it’s late and I don’t want to cook and I know you don’t want to.”

He shrugs, “That’s fine with me. I can see you’re already getting tired so I don’t want you to cook. How about grabbing some Chinese food from that one place by our apartment?”

Nodding your head you agree with him, “Go ahead and head there and I’ll place the order to go.”

Quinn backs out the parking space and exits the garage. You place the order for the Chinese restaurant which is only 5 minutes down the road. Once he pulls into a parking spot, you guys just wait there until the food is ready. Quinn is the first to speak up, with a chuckle, he says, “Did you see me completely fall out there during warm ups, over some pucks?”

Not expecting him to ask that, you bark out a laugh, “Ha, yes I did! Don’t worry, I made sure you made it back up and skated again before I laughed…,” You say back to him shyly.

“Hmmm, I’m sure you did wait! As soon as someone falls, you can’t help but to burst out laughing, no matter if you wait on them getting up or not!” He says, as he just throws his head back against his headrest, chuckling to himself. Sometimes you just can’t help laughing at someone who falls, you’ve been trying to work on it.

“I know, but I did really wait on you to get up!” You say, checking your phone to see if you had gotten a message on whether the food was ready… no message yet.

Quinn looks over at you, he takes his hand to move some hair out of your face that is illuminating from the street lights, he says, “I know I already said it, but I’m glad you came tonight, love when you’re at the games.” Due to work, and traveling of your own, you make it to his games a third of the time, but if you can’t make it, you always make sure to have it on to watch at home or wherever you are. If you can’t watch it, you make sure to keep live updates on.

“I know, wish I could make it to more,” You say smiling at him. A ping from your phone indicates the order is ready. “Looks like our food is done, do you want to go in and get it or me?”

Moving his hand away from your face, he reaches for the door handle, “Don’t worry, I can get it, whats the name under?”

“I think I put it under Hughes, if not then it’s under my name.” He gives you a nod before opening the car door and heading into the place. You see him through the restaurant’s window, he is chatting with one of the owners (that you both have gotten to know since you both always get food from here). He grabs the bag of food, waves goodbye to the staff, and then heads out of the restaurant towards the car. Unlocking the door for him, you grab the bag of food out of his hand.

He says, “The owner says hello, and he made sure to give you extra fortune cookies since he knows love them. He also hooked us up with some extra Rangoon’s since the team won.”

“Well for that, I hope you tipped him well!”

“Of course, yes.”

Looking back over at him, you say, “Let’s head home, so we can eat all of this lovely food and sit on the couch and watch our show!”

Quinn puts the car in reverse and makes his way to the main road. He grabs your hand and thinks that there is no one else he rather spend time with after a game.

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes imagines #nhlhockey fic #nhl imagines #my fics

[magics-neptunes-things]

Motherhood (2)

Hi guys!

Another one with Alexia, but it's Alexia so I hope nobody would mind! This come from this request and I made it to be a second part of Motherhood.

I hope you will like it :)

TW : None, pur fluff

______________________________________________________________

Santana being now four years old, she understand well Alexia's job as a footballer. She's a dynamic, playful, smiling and curious little girl who needs to let her energy go out of her. Needless to say, she was registered with FC Barcelona even before her birth. Despite Alexia’s passion, you made her swear not to push Santana in the same path as her if it didn't please your daughter. It's clear that this is not the case and that Santana is the first to complain when she cannot attend Alexia's game. Seeing her running in the bleachers with the jersey and the number of your wife has always been one of your weak points. Not to mention that it increases even more the resemblance between the two.

However, you are now five and a half months pregnant and it's with barely masked relief that you see Mapi join you in the bleachers. She's slightly injured, nothing serious but she cannot play today. However, this doesn't prevent her from heckle with Santana between the seats, causing the girl to laugh out loud.

"Careful Mapi, continue and you will end up with one like this sooner that you think" you tease the blonde seeing Ingrid's tender look far away on the field.

Mapi looks away from Santana for a few moments, time to follow your eyes and smile gently before shrugging her shoulders. Your daughter doesn’t give her time to be thoughtful any longer, quickly demanding the attention of her godmother.

At the end of the game, Santana hurries to climb the barrier to sit on the edge, waiting for Alexia to pick her up to play on the field. You hold her by her t-shirt so that she doesn’t tumble a floor lower, Alexia finishing signing some jerseys and taking some pictures. It's finally Ona who arrives at your height first, talking to Santana with a big smile.

"You want to go down, Nena?"

Santana hurries to answer yes frantically, until the defender gently slides her to the ground. Santana doesn't lose a single second to rush into Alexia’s legs and hug them, taking Alexia by surprise. And this makes you smile tenderly.

"Thank you Ona" you say to the brunette, who answers you with a wink and a smile before returning to her signing session.

At first you were a little afraid to let Santana play on the pitch in this way, but you quickly realized that every single one of the players on the team was there to make sure nothing would happen to your little princess. Also, you allow yourself to observe the scene from afar, your arm leaning on the barrier and your face in your palm with a big smile displayed on the face.

"You’re drooling" Mapi gives you a little elbow push.

"Who can blame me? I have the two most beautiful women in the world at home."

"Mh. I prefer brunettes. Come on."

Mapi’s mocking smile makes you laugh and you follow her when she takes the stairs to join the players on the field. You can see Santana leaving Alexia to play with Mateo, Irene’s son, whom you greet with a wave of hand. Interrupted in your quest to join Alexia by Lucy, you find yourself caught in a conversation for a few minutes when you feel two hands resting on your hips.

"Here you are, Señora Putellas" Alexia whispers, putting her chin on your shoulder.

You smile softly and turn your head to put a kiss on her cheek, taking advantage of the position to let you go against her. Without really participating in the conversation, Alexia stays with you in this position for a few more minutes. Until she caught Cata putting her gloves on Santana’s hands.

"Catalina Coll you have two seconds to take off this gloves from my daughter!"

You laugh softly when you see the scene, Cata defending herself by explaining that it was Santana who asked her. Ingrid arrives at your side at this moment and you greet her too with a little hug.

"You look good" smiled the Norwegian woman affectionately.

"Thank you. I must admit that this pregnancy is going better than the first one, I didn't vomit once. If my belly didn’t grow, I’d really wonder if I was pregnant"

"Maybe because it’s a boy?" Lucy said thoughtfully

You can’t hold the big smile coming on your face. You learned the sex of the baby at the baby shower you organized last week. For Santana, you managed to keep the surprise until the end, but not this time. Curiosity eventually prevailed. You would obviously have been delighted to welcome a new girl, but Santana asking you before you were even pregnant to have a little brother, it was almost a relief.

"Maybe" you just answer with your smile.

In the distance, you can see that Santana was placed in front of the goal alongside Cata while Alexia and Ona take turns shooting the ball in her direction. Finally, the fact that Santana wanted to test the goalie spot didn't bother Alexia for a very long time. You cannot resist the temptation to immortalize this moment with photos and videos, eager to keep a memory of this moment.

As always, it was necessary to talk with Santana to agree to leave the field, negotiating a second story before sleeping tonight. Except that apparently she won’t need it since she seems to be dead asleep in her car seat in the back seat. You’d be surprised if she woke up when you pulled her out.

Alexia insisting on driving despite her game and training, you find yourself watching the landscape while singing the music on the radio.

"Can I ask you something?" Alexia gently does after a few minutes.

"Anything you want" you answer without hesitation, turning to look at her.

"Be careful, these types of answers can be dangerous"

You bow a brow amused by hearing her playing tone. Seeing her so relaxed and spontaneous with you causes you palpitations every time, despite the time that has already passed well since you met. You don’t need to add anything, a little laugh escapes from Alexia’s lips that you would kiss right now if you weren’t afraid to cause an accident.

"No, it’s pretty serious actually" adds your blonde, tickling your curiosity.

"Okay?"

"I was wondering" begins Alexia, swinging nervously in her seat "if you would agree to give my father’s name to the baby? Maybe not for his usual name but at least for his middle name?"

"Of course Ale"

You don’t have to hesitate for a second. You know perfectly well how difficult it is for Alexia not to have her father at her side every day. If you can honour him that way, why not? Plus, the smile on Alexia’s face is worth it. She’s bending over you this time, taking advantage of a red light to kiss you.

"I love you so much" she whispers against your lips.

"Not as much as I love you"

"Oh yes."

You smile again and steal her a kiss back before letting her back up, the light having gone green for a few seconds already. Fortunately, in your residential area, there are not many people on the road at this time. Alexia restarts the car and turns in your street, putting the car in your underground parking lot.

You let Alexia take Santana out of her car seat to go to bed, taking care of storing your wife’s bag and throwing a dirty laundry machine. Then, you are surprised in full snack in the kitchen by Alexia who returns to you.

"I thought we said no Nutella at home" Alexia whines as she looks at the sandwich you just made with envy.

"Sorry mi Amor. I don’t know how it ended up in my bag"

"Yeah, of course" laughs Alexia and you hurry to make amends by laying lot of kisses on her cheek.

After a few, Alexia turns her head in your direction to put a kiss on your lips.

"You taste like Nutella" she smiles softly. "Did you have a good night?"

"Yes and I think Santana too. Ready to see her become the greatest goalkeeper of all time?"

You tease Alexia who rolls her eyes without being able to hide her smile. There is a child goal in your backyard, but Alexia’s obvious goal was for Santana to want to shoot in it, not try to stop the balls that want to get in.

"Don’t pout, you can always make our son a great midfielder. Unless he wants to play basketball."

Alexia looks at you while squinting a few seconds while you keep your big smile, proud of your little joke. Until your wife grabs your sandwich and decides to run away into the living room, a devil little laugh escaping from her lips.

"Ale!"

#woso x reader #woso imagine #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas

[greynatomy]

who even are you?

katrina gorry x reader

this was a request from wattpad. finally wrote about another matilda. my writing block is slightly going away.

this is one of the ones that’s been sitting in the drafts

part 2 part 3

———

You met Katrina at the beginning of 2021. You were in Australia on a vacation when you nearly knocked her down walking to a café. Your tall frame towers over hers by almost a whole foot.

As an apology, you invited her to have breakfast with you, connecting with one another instantly. You talked about what you did for work, intrigued when she said she played football professionally. She also opened up about always wanting to become a mother and recently finding out her ivf procedure worked and was currently pregnant.

You hit it off pretty well, hanging out everyday, which turned into you asking her on a date and becoming official by the end of your month long vacation. It was difficult when you had to go back home to England.

Months passed and you talked whenever you could, missing her more and more. You talked to your boss about wanting to go remote, but would fly out only when necessary and surprisingly to you, he agreed.

You talked about it to Katrina and she was ecstatic. You moved in with her just before her final weeks of pregnancy.

In the delivery room, once a little baby girl was born, which Katrina named her Harper, she asked if it would be okay if she put your name in the other box for parent. You cried into her shoulder, wanting nothing more.

After some time, you’d gotten married in a small private ceremony months after Harper’s birth, moving into a bigger place. You both couldn’t be happier.

Two years later, the Australia’s Women’s National Team were currently in training for the Olympic Qualifying Asia. Harper was off to the side of the pitch playing with all the toys that she brought with her.

The coach calls the team for a water break, Mini’s two other kids, Kyra and Charli, rush over to Harper.

“Havin’ fun Harps?”

“Yeah!” She raises up her little doll to show them.

Catching their breath, the three play with each other, all in their own world, until the coach calls them back in for a scrimmage. It was a close game, playing like it was a real match.

As everyone was focused on the game, Harper saw someone familiar in the distance, instantly getting up from her blanket, running towards the figure.

“Mama!” She crashes into you.

“Hi, Harper. You been good for Mommy?”

“Yeah!” Harper sees a ball and tugs you by the hand. “Mama, play!”

“Wanna play some football?”

In your own little world, the team’s scrimmage finished, everyone eager to change out of their sweaty gear. Kyra and Charli took off to Harper’s blanket wanting to spend some time with their little sister. The thing is, Harper’s not in the blanket.

“Charli, where’s Harper?”

“How would I know?”

“You’re supposed to keep an eye on her.”

“Me? What about you?”

“How’d we lose a baby?”

“Hey, guys!” Startled, they turn around to see Mini. “Good training today, huh? Where’d Harper go?”

“Uh-well-um—” Charli started malfunctioning.

“Wait! Look there!” Kyra pointed to the distance, seeing Harper with someone she’s never seen before. “Hey! Get away from her!” Before the other two know it, Kyra was already running to where Harper and the supposed stranger are, grabbing Harper out of your arms.

Katrina realizing that it was you, runs after Kyra, hearing her daughter let out a cry.

“How did you get in here? I’m gonna call security!”

“Can you just listen to—”

“—Why should I listen to you, you-you kidnapper!”

The rest of the Matildas are now aware of all the commotion, going up to it.

“What’s happening here?” Sam asks, seeing Kyra hold onto a crying Harper tightly.

“She’s trying to take Harper!”

“What? No, I’m not!”

“Who even are you?”

“If you’d let me expl—”

“I don’t wanna listen to what you have to sa—”

“SHUT UP!” Katrina yelled, everyone going silent, except for the cries of Harper. “Look, this isn’t how it’s supposed to go, but conclusions were jumped into so I’m doing it now. This is Y/N and she’s my wife and Harper’s other Mom.”

“You’re married?” “Wife?” “Other mom?” “Since when?” “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Okay! Shut up! I’ll answer everything after we’ve all showered and dressed. Kyra give Harper back to Y/N.”

Handing Harper back to you, she gives you and apologetic smile.

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s alright. Just a misunderstanding.”

As they all go into the changing rooms, you greet your wife with a kiss.

“That was something, huh?”

“Definitely not how I wanted it to go.”

“‘Least it’s out of the way. Can we get some ice cream after?”

“I sceam (ice cream)!” Harper suddenly has a burst of energy.”

“Ice cream!”

“I have two children at this point.”

“Don’t Kyra and Charli call you Mom?”

“Four children. I have four children and you all drive me insane.”

#woso x reader #greynatomy #woso #woso imagines #woso imagine #auswnt #katrina gorry #katrina gorry x reader

[crushmeeren]

Bakugou/Fem Reader/Kirishima

Everyone involved in this fic is aged up/18+; continue scrolling or block if you’re not into this

Warnings; fluff & smut, reader is 6 months pregnant, cursing, pussy eating (Katsuki is a champ at eating pussy), blowjobs (deep throating, M/M & F/M), pregnant vaginal sex (Eijirou has a filthy deep stroke), squirting, dirty talk (Katsuki has a nasty mouth), cream pie, katsuki paints your tits with cum

Word Count; 8k

AO3 Link; Back Aches

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Eternally uncomfortable. Way too sweaty. Belly stretched into the shape of a medium sized watermelon, because hell, it sure feels like you’re carrying one around 24/7. These are only a few phrases you would use to describe the way it feels to be 6 months pregnant with Katsuki’s baby. Today however, you seem to be really struggling with all the lovely side effects that come along with it.

Specifically, your lower back. It’s been twinging horridly whenever you take so much as one step. So you’ve set up camp on your large, fuzzy couch. Cozy blankets covering your bare legs. You’re only wearing soft shorts and a large, worn, Red Riot T-shirt. You’ve been out here for a while, aimlessly watching different movies and shows, scrolling through your phone.

Katsuki’s playing some video game in the other room. Quite loudly, you might add. You can occasionally hear him yell at Todoroki that he’s the worst player in existence and to fuck off, venomously. You hope Todoroki is taunting him just as much. Sadly, Eijirou is out on patrol today, not coming home until later in the evening.

Now, the sun is getting close to setting, and you’re in the middle of watching a Tik Tok when your baby starts to wiggle around. The fluttering sensation makes you squirm and sit up ram-rod straight. Which in turn, causes a bright flash of pain to radiate through your lower back, up your spine. You desperately need some sort of relief, so you set your phone down on the armrest.

“Kastukiiiii,” you whine loudly, dragging out the i, wishing you could summon the blonde telepathically. You shift your weight in the seat, keeping your feet perched on the large ottoman in front of you. You wait a few seconds, hearing nothing except the background noise from the movie you’ve left on. What the fuck, you think.

“Katsuki!” You yell this time, his name falling sharply from your tongue. Your eyes widen significantly as you suck in a sharp breath through your teeth. You rest a hand on the lower part of your belly, rubbing the spot soothingly when you feel a tiny foot kick you harshly. Apparently she does not want you to yell. Yeah, your daughter is certainly going to have Katsukis bad attitude.

“Baby, I heard you! I’m coming,” Katsuki yells back, tone slightly irritated. You huff, cheeks puffing and heating as your easily agitated temper flares a bit in response. You take a deep breath, both hands now placed on either side of your stomach as the tiny feet continue to try and burst out of your skin. Like a scene from fucking Alien.

Your attention turns to Katsuki, when you hear the blondes soft footsteps as he rounds the corner into your living room. Your eyebrows pinch, lips turning downwards. He comes to a stop next to your legs, eyebrow arching as he crosses his arms over his chest. He pointedly says nothing and waits for your request.

“Kat, love of my life- baby daddy, can you do the thing please? My back hurts.” Pouting up at him, you openly appreciate his slender frame, despite your discomfort. It doesn’t help that he’s only clad in mid thigh length black sweat shorts and a black tank top. It gives you access to the lean muscles of his shoulders. Motherf-He’s so fucking hot. He notices your wondering eyes, rolling his own when you call him baby daddy, he hates that. Nevertheless, his facial expression is soft when he gazes at you.

“Do you think you can wait five minutes while I finish this round of my game? I’m about to kick Icy Hot’s ass,” he says, smirking when he places his hands on his hips. You know the unwarranted spark of anger you feel is not fair to him, but you can’t help it. You sit up a little straighter, wincing when your back cramps again.

“That’s too long,” you groan dramatically. “Can’t you kick his ass later?” you whine, over exaggerating your movements as you run your hands up to the top of your baby bump. Katsuki is more than amused at your behavior, finding it unbearably adorable at how much you want him to be in here with you. He smiles, snickering softly. You glare playfully at him.

“It’s five minutes sweetheart, Todoroki fucking sucks at this game.” Laughing, Katsuki runs a hand up and through his spiky hair.

“It’s your fault I’m like this Katsuki,” you complain. You press a hand to your forehead as if you might faint if he doesn’t do what you want right this second. His head tilts back in another laugh.

“Oi! You know it takes two people to make a baby right? I’m not the only guilty party,” he retorts. “Why isn’t Eijirou getting any blame for this huh? He was there too! Maybe you should get him to hold your belly,” Katsuki teases, ultimately giving in to your request. Todoroki be damned. Katsuki pushes the ottoman flush against the couch so you can scoot forward, making space for him behind you.

“He’s not home right now,” you pout. “Eiji’s actually nice to me, he would help his pregnant wife,” you joke, getting comfortable. The blonde crawls on to the cushions, maneuvering until he sits in the space between you and the backrest. He’s got a thigh bracketing both your hips and you recline into his chest.

“Should’ve let red get you pregnant first then,” he murmurs, stretching his legs out, pinning your blanket under his thighs. You smack his thigh in retaliation, making him jolt.

“Oh god, kitten, wanna see you swollen with my baby so bad, blah blah, I’m Katsuki and I’m a giant fucking hypocrite,” you mock, in a high pitched, horrific imitation of his voice. To be fair he did whine those things to you and Eijirou in bed multiple times before you all agreed to it. Katsuki sputters behind you, feeling his face burn as he pinches the soft flesh of your thigh.

“Oi! You’re such a fucking terror!” he says, voice colored in laughter. “I should make you wait until Eijirou gets home,” he taunts, slipping his hands beneath your shirt. His palms are so warm, comforting, when he places them on the underside of your belly, fingers spread. Katsuki gently presses upwards. You melt into his chest, letting out a soft moan of pleasure, relief immediate as he takes the pressure off your back.

“Your actions say otherwise,” you reply smugly, resting your hands over his. He hums in agreement. Katsuki loves holding your belly. He’s always hoping he’ll be lucky enough to feel his daughter kicking. He kisses the back of your head, relaxing into the backrest as he holds you, feeling the flex in his biceps. You both turn your attention to the movie you had playing earlier, your eyelids starting to flutter every now and then, feeling gooey and warm. Like a fresh baked chocolate chip cookie.

Your baby must have recognized her daddys voice. It’s not even 10 minutes later, when the blonde makes a snarky comment about the current scene on screen, she’s playing kick ball again. Directly into Katsukis hands. You giggle when he gasps, accidentally releasing his hold on your belly.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, in awe. He presses the pads of his fingertips into the same spot, trying to get her to hit him again. His heart thumps hard, excitement swirling around in his chest, when she responds, kicking him once more.

“She’s been really active today. She must have heard you talking.” You smile softly, placing your hands on top of your stomach, letting him have full range to feel below. “I hope she’s this way when Eijirou gets home. I know he was upset last time he missed it,” you remark, tilting your head where it lays on the blondes chest, trying to get a look at his face. He’s still staring at your belly when he speaks.

“She’s fiesty,” he coos, rubbing soothing cirlces into your skin when she kicks him once more. “She’ll respond to him, she loves him,” he murmurs lowly, genuine smile tugging on his lips. The amount of love you’re feeling bubbles up to the brim in your chest, spilling over at his actions. You surge up, lips brushing his jaw swiftly in a sweet kiss, before turning back to the movie. He lets out a soft sound of surprise.

“I love you too,” he teases, kissing your temple. You hum contentedly, and Katsuki goes back to holding up your belly. You feel a vibration near your leg recognizing the pattern as a text. Picking it up, you see it’s from Eijirou. Your face lights up instantly.

“Kat, Eiji messaged that he’s gonna be home soon,” you tell him, eager to see the red head.

“Bout fucking time, my arms are gonna fall off,” he rasps, teasing as he runs his thumbs over the smooth skin of your belly. It tickles.

“Get out from behind me then, ya dick,” you laugh, gently removing his hands, back feeling significantly better. He softly tickles your ribs in retaliation, making you squeal with laughter. You’re wiggling in his grip. “You’re lucky I can’t get up quickly right now Katsuki! I’d kick your ass, you shitty excuse for a bomb!” Your voice high pitched, blushing to the tips of your ears. Katsuki stops, gasping in fake offense, wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

“Shitty excuse for a bomb??” He sounds incredulous, but unbelievably entertained. You nod, unable to hold in a giggle. He squeezes you tight and plants several quick kisses on your cheek. You turn your head the best you can, briefly snagging his lips with your own.

You’re only able to hold your neck at the uncomfortable angle for a second. The sound of your front door opening makes both your heads turn, watching Eijirou waltz through. He’s wearing a smile, bright as the sun. All his sharp teeth on display. The red head melts into a pile of warm mush when he spots the two of you snuggling on the couch.

“What a sweet sight to come home too,” Eijirou happily sighs, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “All three of my babies snuggling on the couch,” he coos, walking around the side, coming to a stop next to the ottoman. He’s in street clothes. Gray sweats, red tee and a white bandana tied around his head. Per usual, he looks like he may bust out of the shirt he’s wearing. It’s unbearably hot.

“Get lost on the way home red?” Katsuki teases, smirking and raising his eyebrow. The blonde lets go of your shoulders as you strain to sit up. You struggle trying to brace your feet on the ottoman, Katsuki notices. He brings his feet up and pushes the furniture away for you. Making space for the red head. Grin never leaving his face, Eijirou rolls his eyes playfully, shoving the foot rest further away so he can fully get in front of you.

“No, I’m actually home earlier than I thought I would be,” he replies, pausing to kneel in between your spread legs, since your feet have come to rest on the floor. Katsuki slips out from behind you, sitting next to you instead.

“Thank God,” you sigh. “Apparently Kat isn’t strong enough to hold our 5lb baby without his arms falling off.” Straight faced, you explain to Eijirou, trying extremely hard not to smile. Katsuki growls next to you. You can practically hear his teeth grind together as Eijirous bright laughter fills the air. You know you’re poking the bear, but sometimes he’s just too easy to rile up.

“Is that so?” Eijirou teases, looking at the blonde as he grips the edge of your T-shirt. Eijirou notices your red riot shirt, looking up to wink at you. Cheeks turning red, you watch the red head push it up over your belly until it rests on top. Exposing all your smooth skin.

“I can hold a fucking five pound baby!” Katsuki snarls, harmless, yet he still dramatically throws his hands up. You choke on the swell of laughter that threatens to tear out your throat. Hearing Eijirou snickering as the red haired man settles both his large hands on your belly, fingers spread wide. His hands are so fucking warm. You let out a soft groan, weaving your fingers through Eijirous soft hair.

“I know Kat, just teasing,” you laugh, giving him your softest smile. The blonde can only hang on to his scowl for a moment, before the corners of his mouth curve upwards in what resembles a smile.

“How’s she been today?” Eijirou questions softly, nuzzling his nose near the top of your belly.

“Feisty little shit,” Katsuki croons. The blonde is smirking now, chest puffing up a bit. He’s definitely proud of it.

“Just like her daddy then?” Eijirou teases, brushing his lips over your belly in a sweet kiss. A soft giggle leaves your mouth.

“Absolutely,” Katsuki says, with complete certainty and confidence. Eijirou laughs.

“She’s been moving a lot today Eiji. Kat’s just happy she kicked the shit out of him earlier,” you explain, scratching the red heads scalp softly. The blonde makes a protesting sound but Eijirou hums, speaking to your baby girl now.

“Hi my feisty girl, daddy Eiji’s home,” he purrs. “I heard you were trying to kick box with daddy Kat. You’re gonna be just like him,” he whispers, affection falling off his tongue. He rubs his thumbs back and forth, caressing your soft, silky skin. Eijirous heart swells up to the point of bursting. Warm love oozing out of him when he places another sweet kiss above your belly button. The red heads eyes flutter closed, resting his forehead against you for a moment.

You jerk in surprise when Eijirous head suddenly shoots up, narrowly avoiding head butting the shit out of you, looking at you with wide, bright eyes. Your daughter has rewarded his affections with two thumps right where his head had been resting. The red head looks up, gaze tracking between you and Katsuki with stars in his eyes. He’s almost vibrating with excitement.

“Did you feel that baby? Oh my god! Kat, she heard me!” The red head yells, almost tripping over his words. You nod, cheeks hurting from smiling so wide. You tug on his soft strands between your fingers. When his gaze locks with yours, you’re overwhelmed by the sight in front of you. Up to your eyeballs in the amount of love you’re feeling for your little family.

“Dammit Eijirou,” Katsuki growls, crossing his arms. “Stop being so-,” he pauses. “So fucking cute!” You laugh as the blonde crosses his arms, lip curled. You chance a look at his face. The blonde is flushed red up to his hairline. A sly expression immediately takes over Eijirous face.

He slips your shirt back down over your belly and you let go of his hair. You meet him halfway when he leans up to kiss you briefly. For being made of rock half the time, his lips are also so soft against yours. Your tongue pokes out to wet your lower lip, warmth burning through you when he pulls away.

The red head shuffles on his knees until he’s between Katsukis thighs. He leans forward and wraps his arms around the blondes waist, wiggling his eyebrows up at him. Katsuki narrows his eyes but places his elbows on Eijirous shoulders. Your toes curl into the plush rug below as the red head smoothes his hands up and down the blondes sides before squishing his face into Katsukis chest. Hugging him close, his tight embrace pushes the air out of the blondes lungs.

“Eijirou.” It comes out of Katsuki in a squeaky, gravelly tone.

“You’re so sweet Katsuki, I think you’re cute too,” he purrs, muffled by the material of a black tank top. Eijirou breathes in deeply, taking in just how good the blonde smells. Feeling the warmth of his chest on his face. You’re starting to flush as the blonde wrap his arms around Eijirous neck, holding him tight, mumbling I love you under his breath. Watching them together also sparks a fire inside of you. Even if it’s just something as tame as hugging.

The intense pulse of fondness you feel at their embrace, squeezes pleasantly in your chest. It’s a picturesque moment, until a pang of hunger rolls around inside you. Placing a hand on the underside of your belly, you chew your bottom lip. Not wanting to break up the tender moment, but it seems your daughter is hungry.

“I hate to burst the bubble, but our daughter is starving,” you tease gently, grinning as you watch them part. Eijirou kisses Katsuki sweetly, making a loud smooching sound when he pulls away, before the blonde stands up. He pushes playfully at the red heads shoulder when Eijirou rises from the floor as well. “Will you make something Kat?” You ask, puffing out your lower lip. Usual smirk etched onto his face as he lets out a scoff.

“I swear, you and Eijirou are like bottomless fucking pits,” he grumbles, turning and making his way to the kitchen. He’s not fooling anyone, you all know he actually loves cooking for everyone. Especially now that your daughter is getting closer to being born. He likes to express his love through his food. You and the red head share a look, laughing as the large man flops down onto the couch with you. It jostles you a little bit.

“Thank you Kit Kat! Love you,” you coo, watching as he throws a hand up over his shoulder in response.

“Sooo, can I hold your belly now?” Eijirou prods, way too excited for something so mundane. One of your eyebrows lifts as he shifts around until he can lean his back against the armrest. Planting one foot on the couch, letting his knee rest on the back side of the cushion. He lets the other dangle to the floor, opening his arms, making a grabby motion.

“You don’t have to ask me twice. She definitely has been missing her other daddy today,” you joke, picking up your discarded blanket from the couch, slotting yourself into his embrace. He lets one leg be pinned between you and the cushion as you get comfortable, pulling up the blanket over both of you, relaxing into his thick chest. Eijirou plants his hands on the top of your belly, slowly sliding them down to the bottom of your shirt.

“I love your shirt, pretty girl,” he whispers, low and sweet in your ear, soft lips pressing on your neck, snaking his hands under the soft material. The combination sends hot tingles down your spine. He forces a tiny, shocked moan out of you when he sinks his sharp teeth into your shoulder, spreading his fingers and lifting up your belly. He brushes his lips over the bite.

“Jesus Eijirou,” you breathe, placing your hands on his. The low heat pooling in your belly is very enticing. “Trying to fuck me on the couch?” You shift, feeling his cock is half hard. Fuck, you’d be a damn liar if you said that didn’t send a sharp flash of arousal straight to your pussy. His laugh tickles your neck.

“Maybe,” he says, sly voice tickling your ear. Pressing his hips upwards a little, he runs his cock over your lower back. You pinch his thigh. He groans softly. “I can’t help it pretty baby,” Eijirou whines, continuing to hold your belly. You can’t say you aren’t extremely tempted, it’s just- you are really hungry.

“After we eat, promise Eiji. I’m sure Kat will be up for it,” you murmur, trailing your fingers gently over his forearm. You can physically feel the red heads pout, but he hums in agreement, more than likely not wanting to bother Katsuki while he cooks. Which is smart. You wrestle with your own arousal as you let Eijirou hold you, and talk about his day. All the way until Katsuki calls out for you both to get your asses in the kitchen.

🍓💥🍓💥

You were right. Katsuki immediately flushed red, when you casually mentioned wanting to get fucked, once you all had finished eating. The blonde had you and Eijirou ushered into the bedroom no more than five minutes later. You’re completely naked now, elbows resting on the headboard behind you. They ache a bit as you strain to hold up your weight, bone at the inner corner digging into the wooden frame.

Your thighs are bracketing Katsukis head in a harsh grip, knees sinking into the mattress below. The sensitive skin of your inner thighs being tickled by the blondes barely there stubble while you sit on his face. His mouth buried in your pussy. He’s got you sitting backwards, so you can enjoy the view of Eijirou swallowing the blondes cock over and over as he lays on his belly between spread legs.

“Fff-uck, Kat,” you whimper, rolling your hips so your pussy slides slickly over his lips. The blonde has one arm snaked around your thigh, his other hand braced gently on your belly, thumb absentmindedly rubbing back and forth. A gasp tears from your chest. Hot shivers sluggishly traveling up your spine when his tongue slips up through your folds, moving up to circle around your clit.

God, you’re so wet, eyes fluttering shut when he sucks on your sensitive bud. He flicks the tip of his tongue up and down as he continues to suck. The pleasure is searing. Not helped by the sinful, wet schlicking sounds that are coming from Eijirous mouth. He’s so enthusiastic at giving head.

Your eyes shoot open, jaw dropping as your fingers curl into fists, elbows still braced uncomfortably on the headboard. Katsuki is humming against your pussy, moving his head side to side, tongue barely poking out to hit your clit with each pass.

The vibrations resonate through your pelvis and the change in direction is enough to make the muscles in your lower belly clench tight. Thick, warm sensation of an orgasm starting to curl up behind your belly button. You whimper when he switches back to licking firm stripes into your clit.

You know your cheeks are a soft peachy color, eyes drooping when your gaze connects with the red head. A zap of electricity races through you at the sight of his pretty lips stretched tight around Katsukis cock, cheeks blooming a sweet shade of pink. It’s unbelievably erotic, the way his fingers grip the thick flesh on the underside of Katsukis thigh.

His other hand rolls the blondes balls. Katsuki has his knees bent, feet planted. The red head fits perfectly between his legs, snug between slender thighs. Katsuki shallowly thrusts his hips upwards, like he can’t help himself because it just feels too good. Eijirou dips his head in time with each motion, taking his cock completely, easily. His lips kissing curly blonde hair at the base of Katsukis cock each time.

Your pussy throbs over Katsukis lips when Eijirou sends a wink your way. Your pulse kicks, as you start to pant, tongue flicking out to wet your bottom lip. A yelp rings out from you when Katsuki secures both arms around your thighs, pulling your pussy further into his mouth. He starts alternating between licking firm stripes into your clit and sucking on it with his tongue.

It makes your hole clench around nothing, insides twisting, as you feel your slick coating the blondes chin and mouth. It’s too good. You may not cum like this, but you’re getting as close to the edge as you can be. Your eyes flutter, catching on the way the blondes belly is twitching.

His muscles are starting to clench, stomach rolling and folding periodically. It’s an obvious sign he’s getting close to bursting down the red heads throat. You know you want to get Eijirou more involved before that happens. After all, it was originally his idea to have sex tonight.

“Kat,” you whine, cutting yourself off with a groan. Your fingers wrap like bracelets around the bones of his wrists. “Wanna switch, baby, please,” you gasp, as he bites your clit gently, before patting the side of your ass twice, pushing you up from his mouth. You hover over his mouth for a moment, trying to get your bearings about you again.

Eijirou stops as well, pulling off with pop, letting the blondes, thick, glistening cock slap wetly against his pelvis. Blonde curls at the base of his cock taking the brunt of the saliva and precum that had accumulated. The red head sits up on his knees, hair starting to fall around his eyes from its original style. His cock is flushed, hard, as he wraps a hand around the base. Contact making warmth bubble in his belly.

“Whaddaya want pretty thing? Tell me, you know Eijirou and I will give it to ya,” Katsuki purrs, lips brushing over your slick folds as he speaks. Eijirou hums in agreement. You squirm, peering into the red heads eyes as you make a decision. Hands coming to rest on your belly out of habit. Eijirou wiggles his eyebrows at you. The action forcing you to smile.

“I want Eiji to position us how he wants. Since he’s been so horny all day today,” you tease, chest rising and falling as you, with difficulty, swing your leg from Katsukis head, settling back on your calves next to him. Elbows aching from holding your weight, you stretch them out in front of you. Eijirou turns as red as his hair, looking back and forth between you and the blonde, who has also sat up. Leaning back, weight resting on his hands.

“Oh,” Eijirou breathes, looking at the blondes chin, wet with saliva and slick from your pussy. He wants to lick it clean. His cock twitches harshly in his grip, thinking about what he wants. “Yes! I mean- yeah, totally I can do that,” he says, failing to hide how eager he is. The red head takes time to look between both of you. Katsuki snorts, waving a hand in front of himself. Vaguely inquiring how Eijirou wants them.

“Well red, how do you want us?” He coos, a sharp edge to his tone. Teasing, but mean. In a way that he knows will crawl under the other heroes skin. As well as yours. Eijirou rolls his jaw around a couple times before biting his bottom lip. You lightly punch Katsuki in the shoulder for his attitude. All he gives you is a smug look from the corner of his eye.

“Okay, pretty baby c’mere,” he speaks warmly, reaching a hand out to you. You do as told, grabbing his fingers as he helps you shuffle forward on your knees. Once you get to him, he helps you twist until your back faces the edge of the bed.

He grips both your hands until he can slowly recline you, back flat on the mattress, head hanging off the edge of the bed. You feel a bit like you’re suffocating, baby sort of crushing your lunngs, but it’s comfortable enough. You’re still a bit unsure of what the red head has in mind until he speaks.

“Alright Kat, go stand near her head. I wanna watch you fuck her throat while I fuck her pussy,” he says shyly, flush traveling down his chest as he traps the tip of his tongue between his teeth. He sits in between your spread thighs.

“Didn’t feel like getting your ass torn up today Eijirou?” Katsuki remarks, condescendingly. You raise your head up in time to see Eijirou stick his tongue out at the blonde, watching Katsuki slide off the bed. Lazily making his way towards you.

“Shut up,” Eijirou mumbles, helping you bend your knees and plant your feet. His blush has traveled up to the tips of his ears. You can’t help it, you laugh along with Katsuki at your sweet red heads embarrassment.

To be fair, he does turn into a drooling, blissed out mess everytime he’s fucked by the blonde. Katsuki reaches you, placing a palm under your head to support your neck. Your throat is dry when you swallow. Katsukis cock is right next to your cheek, looking every bit of flushed and thick. Your pussy throbs in anticipation when you think about the position you’re in.

“You okay with this sweetheart?” Katsuki purrs, intense ruby eyes looking into yours. You fucking flush again, forehead starting to sweat. The room feels sweltering, but you nod up at him either way.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine Kat. I’ll tap your thigh if it’s too much,” you dreamily sigh, as he lets your head fall, base of your skull resting on the edge of the mattress.

“Such a good fucking girl, already knows the rules,” the blonde coos, a rumble in his chest. He grips the base of his cock with one hand, running his slick tip over your lips. You whimper, tongue darting out to barely lick at his head. He hisses.

“Eiji, go ahead love, I’m ready,” you whine, desperate. Wiggling when the red head places a calloused thumb on your slippery clit, rubbing circles into it.

“You’re so fucking wet pretty girl,” Eijirou murmurs, thumb trailing through your folds. He grips his own cock, sliding his tip over your clit, down to your entrance, slowly pressing the head into your pussy. He leaves his other hand braced on your knee for now. A moan gets stuck in your throat, hands gripping the blanket below you tightly. Soft material bunching up under your damp palms. Eijirou is fucking thick.

“Fuck, that’s it. Let that tight little pussy swallow Eijirou whole,” Katsuki breathes, fisting his own cock as he watches Eijirou fill you out. You whine loudly, pussy stretched to the max. The way his cock pushes at your walls, the friction as he pulls back, then rocks in again, teasingly.

It makes your eyes roll back, pleasure blistering through your veins. Eijirou feels his stomach tighten, watching as your silky, slick pussy hugs him just right. His cock throbs once as he starts a slow rhythm.

“Oh, oh god, pussy so perfect f’me,” Eijirou whines, one hand coming to rest on the underside of your knee, the other he places sweetly on your swollen belly. You can’t see anything besides Katsukis thighs, but Eijirous words burn pleasurably in your brain, pushing a low moan out of you.

“Fucking christ, open up that mouth for me sweet thing,” Katsuki growls, speaking directly to you. A little lost in the bliss Eijirou is giving you, you just nod, letting your mouth drop open, pink tongue poking out as well. Katsuki brings up one leg, bracing his knee on the bed, other one standing firm, muscles in his thighs flexing. A syrupy heat swirls in the blondes gut, groin tightening in excitement.

He braces a hand on the bed and grips the round flesh of your tit with his other. As he guides his cock into your mouth, your soft pallet becomes a track for him to fuck against. Instinctively, you wrap your lips around the middle of his shaft, sucking as he curses, hips jerking forward a little until his tip hits the back of your mouth. You groan around him when Eijirou snaps his hips harshly by accident, the image of the Katsukis cock in your throat spurring him on.

“Motherfucker,” the blonde chokes out, starting to pump his cock in and out of your tight, hot mouth. Electric tingles start in his groin, flaring down to his toes as you suck on him every so often. You’ve relaxed your throat, but struggle to breathe through your nose as he fucks your mouth. He’s not moving too hard, but a dull ache starts up in the muscle of your jaw. You need something to anchor yourself with, so you secure your arms around the blondes thighs.

Eijirou can’t control the little whines that keep spilling from his lips. The way your tits bounce, the sensation of your belly moving under his palm, he thinks it’s so fucking hot. He pushes your thigh back to get his dick deeper into your pussy. He can’t pull his eyes away from the rolling motion of Katsukis slow, deep thrusts into your mouth.

The way his abs flex. The sweat trailing down the side of his face, over his jaw, onto the corded muscle of his neck. God, Eijirou wants to lick it off. The thought sparks his arousal even more and he thrusts forward harshly, curling his hips. He hears your muffled wail, realizing he must’ve hit your sweet spot. He keeps going.

“Fuck, pretty girl, ah-shit, right there yeah? S’good, feels too good,” Eijirou moans, bullying that spot inside you. You whine, the lightening like heat radiates in waves from your pussy to your toes every time.

Katsuki moans continuously, a gravelly edge to them. The blonde feels himself throbbing in your mouth, pulling back to let you breathe. You gasp, lungs burning for air as he squeezes your tit once more, pinching the nipple, before letting go. He pets your throat in a soothing motion as your bounced a bit by the red heads thrusts. Steady rhythm to Eijirous movements.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum soon baby, want me to paint your chest?” Katsuki coos, running a thumb over your lips.

“Y-yes, please, paint me Kat,” you whine, stuttering between moans as your lids squeeze shut. Eijirou is still fucking you so deeply. Katsuki hooks his thumb into your mouth, gripping your bottom jaw, prying it open with a growl. You dig your nails into his thighs again as he roughly slides his cock back into your mouth, slipping into your throat.

It burns, an uncomfortable tickling sensation as you get the urge to cough. Forcing your throat to relax enough that he can thrust all the way in and out, to the root. You’re able to focus on the cock in your mouth a little bit more as Eijirou slows his movements for the time being. Presumably wanting to watch Katsuki cum.

Katsukis palm is slick with sweat, when he rests it on your belly, next to the other heroes hand. You free a hand from his thigh, smoothing it up over his hip and lower belly. His breath hitches when your nails dig into his slick skin, muscles flinching away from your touch. The threat of his orgasm is coiling tightly in his groin. His heart is in his throat as he reaches the peak right before he climaxes.

Katsuki makes a strangled noise, hearing going fuzzy, as he thrusts into your throat once more before pulling out completely, bracing his weight to lean further on the bed. Taking the hand from your belly, he strokes his cock quickly groaning lowly as he cums, painting your tits and a little bit of your belly with his warm, sticky release.

“Shit,” Eijirou laughs incredulously, movements having stopped completely at the sight in front of him. “That was fucking hot Kat,” Eijirou beams, running a finger over the release on your belly, then quite seductively, sucking it off his finger. Katsuki laughs, breathlessly, dick throbbing at the sight before he leans back standing on both feet again.

He’s trying to catch his breath, chest heaving. Your hands fall away from the blonde, letting them dangle as you try to remember how to breathe. Eijirou, reluctantly, pulls out with a hiss, slick cock bobbing. A whine pulls from your throat. The other two snicker.

“Are you alright pretty thing?” Katsuki asks, voice scratchy. You nod, as Eijirou grips your ankles, yanking you up the bed, so your head no longer dangles off.

“I’m definitely good, although can we switch around now? The baby is suffocating me,” you joke, laughing a little. Eijirou pats your thighs encouragingly.

“Of course my little love bug!” He says, brightly. “You want Kat to hold you baby?” He coos, gripping both your hands and pulling you up to sit.

“Please,” you giggle, angling your head to watch the blonde crawl up on the bed near the headboard. He pauses near Eijirou, to kiss him swiftly, making the red head giggle. He turns then, setting a couple pillows up so he can rest his back on them.

“Yeah yeah, c’mon needy thing,” he teases, smirking as he bends his knees and lets his heels dig into the mattress. Eijirou flicks his knee in retaliation and helps you get to your knees, holding your hands until you can shuffle around and sit on your ass in between the blondes legs.

Only having to lean back a little bit, your heated flesh comes into contact with his chest. His skin is too hot, making you immediately sweat a little. You look down at your chest, noticing you’re still covered in the blondes release, but they for damn sure won’t wipe it off until you’re done. Truthfully, you find it kind of hot, but you’re eager to keep going.

“Eijirou, c’mon, wanna cum please,” you beg. Voice so sweet and needy when it reaches the red heads ears. You let your thighs fall open for him, reaching out for Eijirou. He grins, sharp teeth fully on display.

“Course baby girl,” he purrs, inching forward on his knees till he’s right there, hard cock brushing over your swollen clit. You whine, feeling the blonde snake an arm around your middle. His fingers spread out on your belly, the other gripping your tit, pinching your nipple. Katsuki bites a kiss into your neck, laving over it with his tongue. You tilt your head to give him more access, bracing your hands on the blondes thighs.

You moan softly, Eijirou placing a hand on the underside of both your knees, pushing until your feet are off the mattress. Not too high, belly stopping you from being folded further. He raises up to his knees, angling his hips until the head of his cock catches on your slick pussy. So stretched out he can slide all the way in with no resistance.

“Eijirou,” you gasp, mouth falling open as he splits you completely. Your nails dig into Katsukis legs, pussy clenching involuntarily and the red head whimpers, feeling his cock throb in response. Eijirou’s suffocating in your silky pussy, eyebrows pinching together in concentration so he doesn’t cum too fast.

“C’mon red,” Katsuki purrs from your shoulder, chin digging into the muscle there. Ever the snake in the garden. “You’re big and strong right? Make that pussy cum,” he teases, voice low, curling down into you and Eijirou. Twisting your guts with arousal.

“Fucking hell Kat,” Eijirou pants, moving his hips in a testing pull backwards, before smoothly pushing in, until the dark hair at the base of his cock brushes your clit. You feel like he’s in your throat, telling the red head just that. “Ah, I’ll - fuck, make your pussy feel real good sweet girl,” Eijirou promises, starting slow at first.

Katsuki stares at the scene below, biting his tongue roughly, as he’s assaulted by the sight of the thick cock that disappears into your pussy over and over. He’s getting half hard again just watching. The blonde squeezes your tit, fingers biting in to the squishy flesh. You cry out, gripping Eijirous shoulders as he picks up the pace. His eyes are glazed over, eyelids hooded as he fucks you.

Your teeth clench, eyes rolling back as he hits the spongy spot inside you. Pussy clenching, toes curling as your head thumps back onto Katsukis shoulder. Something snaps inside Eijirou after that, because his deep stroke is fucking nasty from then on out. Hips curling upwards as he fucks into you, slamming your sweet spot repeatedly. You howl out his name as he moves relentlessly, dull nails scratching at his skin.

“E-Eijirou, oh my god!” You almost scream, feeling Katsukis hand rub up and down your belly soothingly. The blonde brushes his soft lips over your neck, releasing your tit and trailing his hand up to grip your jaw. His fingers dig into the muscles, yanking and forcing the angle of your head down, so you have to watch as Eijirou pummels your pussy.

“That’s it, watch Eijirou baby girl, doing so good, taking him like a goddamn champ,” the blonde growls. “Looks like Eijirous gonna fuck another baby into you, isn’t that right red?” He mocks, winking at his husband. The filthy mouth Katsuki has never ceases to push the two of you closer to the edge.

Eijirou whimpers out a mhmm, watching himself fuck you, cock so slick. The lips of your pussy stretching on his cock with each thrust backwards. His palms are slippery under your knees, sweat gathering in the hollow of his of neck, chest glistening. The wet sounds of skin meeting skin is unbearably lewd in the otherwise silent room.

“I - oh fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you choke out, sounding and feeling surprised at how fast you’re about to climax. The warmth is winding up so tightly behind your belly button, pussy fluttering and feeling amazing. The angle making you feel like you might squirt. Katsukis half hard cock jerks against your back when he hears what you said, gripping your jaw tighter.

“Fuck yeah, cum for him sweetheart, he feels unbelievable huh?” Katsuki murmurs in your ear, voice smooth as silk. You nod the best you can, Katsuki letting go of your jaw so you can look into Eijirous eyes.

“Give it to me baby, please,” Eijirou begs, mouth falling open as your pussy flutters around him again. He leans in closer to you, the two of you breathing the same air. You nod quickly, lips brushing his, toes curling as the coil tightens to the point of snapping.

Water balloon of pleasure popping, gushing waves of warmth throughout your limbs. Your body tenses, mouth open in a silent o shape as you cum, hard. Eijirou licks into your mouth once, behind your teeth before he can stop himself. Katsuki has stayed silent for the majority of this, breath hot against your ear as he’s bewitched by all that’s happening in front of him.

Hot shivers vibrate down your spine as Eijirou fucks you through it, choking on his own tongue as you clench him tightly. Pussy acting as a vice. A few more thrusts of that filthy deep stroke, one of Katsukis hands comes down to thumb at your clit roughly, forcing you to squirt all over Eijirous belly. It runs down your thighs, pooling on the sheets. You feel dizzy with pleasure and you wail, pussy trying to push the thick cock out of you.

“Oh shit, just like that sweet girl, squirt f’me baby, ah f-fuck I’m gonna c-cum,” Eijirou whines, through gritted teeth, dropping one of your legs to rest his hand over Katsukis on your belly. Both holding you almost protectively as you breathe heavily, trying to get some reprieve from your high. Katsuki takes his hand from your pussy, placing both hands back on the baby bump.

“Fucking- cum Eijirou, such a good boy, fuck her full with another baby sweetheart,” he says, voice edging on a growl. Eijirou pushes his cock all the way to the root inside you, sobbing through his teeth as his balls tighten. The sensation of his climax washes over him as his dick pulses, cumming hard. Stuffing your tight pussy with ribbons of warm, sticky cum. You kiss the red head, swallowing his moans as his orgasm fades.

Breaking apart, you whine, holding onto his forearms as he lets your other leg go. Eijirou places his other hand on your belly. All three of you take a moment, catching your breath, letting your souls return to your bodies. Your limbs are warm and gooey, feeling content. Eijirou sets his forehead against yours, pressing your lips together once again. You hum softly, lips sticking when he pulls back. He swiftly kisses the blonde as well before leaning back, pulling out slowly.

“My god, that was really fucking good,” you say, cheeks burning as you unstick your back from Katsuki, leaning forward a little.

“You felt so amazing pretty girl,” Eijirou coos, grabbing a discarded shirt to help clean you off. Which he does, wiping the slightly tacky release off your chest and belly. He sweetly cleans his release which was starting to leak from your pussy.

“It was a goddamn great fucking show is what it was,” Katsuki boasts, slipping out from behind you, sitting next to you. Eijirou agrees and you laugh, reclining into where the blonde was sitting, pillows giving your aching back some relief.

You all are feeling the sweet afterglow of sex, atmosphere warm and cozy. You hadn’t felt any movement during sex, but now you place a hand to your belly, feeling your daughter kicking you, moving around. Your stomach growls and you curse yourself for being hungry again already.

“Kat,” you mumble, looking over at him. He hums in response. “I’m hungry again,” you say, giving him puppy dog eyes. Eijirous laughs brightly as the blonde gives you an incredulous look.

“I guess we did just burn a shit ton of calories,” he snickers, rolling his eyes playfully. “Alright, get dressed you insatiable thing. Let’s find something to eat,” he teases, patting your thigh and getting up to get dressed.

“I mean now that you mention it, I’m hungry too,” Eijirous says, agreeing with you. Katsuki sputters.

“Fucking of course you are! You’re a mountain for a man!” he says harshly, jerkily tugging on his sweat shorts, tossing you a clean shirt and some shorts.

“How else would I be a top ten hero, if not for all your amazing food Kit Kat,” he coos, winking at the blonde. Katsukis cheeks turn pink and he stomps out of the room. You giggle, watching Eijirou pull on his own mid thigh length, red shorts. He runs his hands through his hair, pushing it out of face. You greatly appreciate the fact that they both remained bare chested.

“He’s gonna blow something up if you keep teasing him,” you say, smiling as you take the hand offered to you by the red head. Climbing off the bed, pulling your own clothes on.

“It’s just too much fun. Besides you’re just as bad,” he replies, framing your face with his hands and squishing your cheeks. You giggle, holding his wrists as he leans down to kiss you dramatically. You return the gesture, love blooming brightly in your chest. Smirking as he lets your face go, you lace your fingers with his.

“Guilty as charged,” you muse, letting the red head tug you out of the room. Katsuki, despite his dramatic actions, does end up making you all a snack. You all sit in the living room, enjoying the food and watching a movie. The boys taking turns whispering sweet words to you and your baby.

The three of you enjoy the rest of the night, relaxing together until it gets late. You can’t wait to see how the boys react when your daughter is born. You know, without a doubt, they’ll be amazing fathers. Then in a couple years, you’ll let Eijirou get you pregnant. You laugh to yourself, because you know, with certainty, your back definitely is gonna hurt with his giant ass baby.

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