#but until then what benefits the team will happen

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

Mine. || Simon "Ghost" Riley

For @glitterypirateduck's “GhostChallenge” writing challenge! I used the following prompts:

9. Alternate universe 100. You're Price, Gaz, or Soap's sister/brother 12. Brothers best friend trope 71. Reader or Ghost rescues the other from a bad date (but 'bad' is used very loosely) 34. Ghost in gray sweatpants. Just. Gray. Sweatpants. 90. Thigh riding 13. Car sex (also loosely) 48. "Is that the best that you can do?" 99. "You're mine."

Rating: E Words: 3.2k~ CW: smutty, thigh riding, no piv, no kissing, mean!Simon, toxic!Simon, fuck buddy!Simon, jealous!Simon, stalker(ish?)!Simon, possessive behavior. Tags: afab!reader, you/your pronouns but no Y/N, rugby AU, friends with benefits/fuck buddies, unrequited feelings (or are they?), toxic-ish relationship?, lying, manipulation?, secret relationship, brother's best friend, creating/baiting jealousy. Summary: Ghost is a cocky, mean rugby player that you can't help but be pining over. But maybe it's not completely unrequited. OR Simon ruins your date with someone else because he's jealous. a/n: I had a plan. I executed said plan. Profit?

Having grown up in a rugby family, you were given little choice but to attend all of your brother's games, both as a wee lad, a young man, and, now.

You were there, with your remaining sisters and your mam, for every single one of Johnny's games, back from when he was a wee one that couldn't even do a proper tackle and would fall in the mud, to now, picked to join the national team.

This means, however, that you've spent your entire childhood, teen years and now young adulthood, surrounded by the lads from your brother's many teams, but, especially, the ones he met as a teen and made a lasting friendship with: John "Cap" Price, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, and Simon "Ghost" Riley, the bane of your existence.

Johnny's had them over for birthdays, holidays, sleepovers... Not to mention the times you've gone to pick him up from training and were allowed into the locker room, only to get an eyeful of too much bare skin on all those men as they paraded around half-dressed; in towels; in underwear, or even in less than that.

It became a matter of time until you gained someone's attention. No wonder, pretty lass like you, with your sweet smiles and playful quips... coming to pick up your bulky winger brother, of course you'd catch someone's eye.

Kyle Garrick is the team's Hooker... but he's also known as a manwhore, the town bicycle, or whatever you wanna call him. The lads all know that if they go out drinking, Kyle is not going home alone, and, worse, they know that Kyle could and would seduce their cousins, sisters, mothers, and girlfriends, if not kept in check.

That's part of the reason why Johnny nearly had a fucking aneurysm when he caught Kyle outside the locker room three days ago, with a hand pressed against the wall beside your head, looking down at you with a smug little smirk on those perfect lips of his.

He knew what was happening, the way Kyle was looking down at you, the way you were looking up at Kyle, smiling all cutely, backed up against the wall, while his own teammate put the moves on you and talked about taking you out, his free hand gently playing with the strap of the dress you were wearing.

Johnny, however, missed the way Simon, who was standing right behind him, stiffened up and bristled at the sight of Garrick flirting with you. You didn't though. You caught it as soon as Johnny cleared his throat next to you with a "Should I pull up a chair and wait fer ye to be done?". Simon's eyes were glued to you, his brow set, his jaw clenched...

That's what he gets.

Simon, whom you've had a massive crush on for years now, who you pine for, whose attention you crave... and who only ever comes to you for a quick lay...

Simon, who rolls over after sex and tosses you a towel while he's putting on his clothes, telling you to 'hurry up' so he can take you home.

Simon, who always stares at you like he's going to eat you whole every time he lays eyes on you.

Simon, who chugs half of the ice cold water bottles he's given during breaks in practice, and uses the rest to douse himself in water to keep himself cool.

Simon, who knows how your eyes always get drawn to his legs and his bulge in his uniform, and rolls up his shorts before doing lifts, just for you.

Simon, who comes to pick you up whenever you call him, tipsy, from some bar or club when going out with friends.

Simon, who sends you 'u up?' texts at 2 in the morning when he's drunk.

Simon, who scoffs and chuckles whenever you breach the 'us' topic.

Frankly, you're not even actually trying to get with Kyle, especially not with his reputation (nothing against him, it's just not for you), but you needed to do something.

You're tired of waiting around for SImon to get his head out of his arse. You're not a toy, you're not going to stick around and be 'friends with benefits' with him, except barely friends, and with little benefits.

He's getting what he fucking deserves.

You didn't anticipate, however, how upset Johnny would be at the idea of Kyle taking you out. In fact, it was poor planning on your end because from the moment Johnny saw you with Kyle, he attempted, multiple times, to convince you not to go out with him... And if the DMs Kyle sent you are any indication, he also tried to talk Kyle out of it.

On the other hand, Simon didn't once try to intervene. Despite the look he shot you on Tuesday, he did not in fact reach out to talk to you, even now, as Friday comes along and you stride into the restaurant, hanging off Kyle's arm...

There's nothing from him. No texts, no DMs, no calls, nothing... So you guess that it's done, over. He got the memo, finally...

Your phone starts buzzing inside your bag while you and Kyle are halfway through sharing your appetizers. Looking down at your phone, you narrow your eyes when you find Simon's number ringing.

Really? Now? You don't think so.

So, you hang up.

Only for it to start ringing again immediately after. Simon. Again.

Grunting, you end up picking up. "What?"

"I'm outside. Let's get out of here."

You're hyper aware, suddenly, that the host has sat you and Kyle by the windows overlooking the car park... And you can see a car with its headlights on pointing right at you.

"I don't think so."

"Then don't think. Just do what I'm telling you."

Bossy, as always, that's how Simon is. Everything is on his terms, never on yours.

"I'm having dinner." You fight him, as always. This push and pull of yours has been going on for three years now... And Simon always wins. It makes him cocky.

"Not with him you're not. So you better get out here before I go in there and embarrass you."

With a sigh, you nod. "Fine, I'll be right there."

Turning off the call, you turn to Kyle, explaining you have to leave. His brows knit together and he looks at you with puppy eyes, asking why, and, short of a proper explanation, you do the same thing you've been doing to Johnny for the past three years: you lie.

"Johnny said he got a bizarre text from our mam and he tried calling her and she isn't replying."

"She's on these new sleeping pills, so she might have just knocked out while watching telly..."

"But he's worried, and he's on the other side of town, so he asked if I could go home and check on her..."

And Kyle, as much of a manwhore he is, he's also a gentleman, and is one of your brother's best friends. If your mam might be feeling sick, he's, of course, driving you home and helping! He was raised right.

As you leave the car park on the passenger seat of Kyle's BMW, you're hyper aware of the familiar Range Rover trailing you down the road, always a couple of cars behind, but always there... always lurking.

You reach your childhood home in record time, and start fumbling for the keys inside your clutch while Kyle trails up behind you to the front door. "I think I've got this from here, Kyle."

"No way, I love your mum like she's my auntie, if she's not doing well, I'm here to help,"

"No, really, it's okay, I'm sure she's fine..."

"Love, really, I'm not leaving you like this, not before I make sure that she's alright-"

Suddenly, a large, pale hand comes to grip Kyle's shoulder from behind, Simon's eyes shining in the darkness of the night, barely illuminated by the light by the front door, before his full face reveals itself.

Like a Ghost. That's his nickname. Fast, stealthy, there when you least expect it. Both in the rugby pitch and out of it.

"Don't worry, mate, I've got this." Simon announces, causing Kyle (and you) to freeze.

"You're here too?" Kyle asks, seemingly surprised, just as the taller fullback player removes his hand from his shoulder.

"Johnny called me too. Was worried about her being alone if mam wasn't doing well," Simon says naturally, as if he isn't also lying through his teeth, though his eyes never leave yours, catching and not planning on letting it go.

"Okay... well..." Kyle says and looks back and forth between you and Simon, seemingly catching the weird vibe between you, before he nods. "I'll go home then. Text me?" He asks you. "We can have a rain check."

Gulping thickly, your gaze slowly moves back toward Kyle, and you nod with a soft smile. "Yeah, yeah. Of course." You say softly and move over to kiss his cheek, before watching Kyle go back to his car and pull off.

You're turning, keys now in hand, to unlock the door when one of Simon's large hands grabs yours, stopping you. "What are you doing?" He asks you.

"Going home?" You retort as you look up at him, feeling the warmth of his fingers wrapped around yours, clutching lightly. "Ye can go now. Congratulations, you ruined my date. Yer work is done."

Simon chuckles and takes a step closer to you, tilting his head at an angle and regarding you with those dark, deep brown eyes of his, the same ones that always make you feel like he's trying to burn you with his gaze.

"That's cute that there, sweetheart." The Mancunian tells you before he lets go of your hand and pushes you along with a hand on the small of your back, away from your front door. "Get in the fuckin' car." He orders and uses his eyebrows to point at his jeep, his voice carrying the same strong tone that he reserves only for bossing his teammates around during practice.

You know better than to defy him. So you tuck your metaphorical tail between your legs and you nod, moving over to his Rover. He opens the door for you and helps you up by gripping a hand around your forearm, the other bumps you up by the back of the legs.

"How'd ye know where we were?" You end up asking once Simon has driven away from your street, your eyes locked on his as he drives, finally daring to take a proper look at him under the orange light of the street lamps you pass by.

Black hoodie, grey sweatpants, and some kind of running shoes. Those stupid bloody sweatpants... The same ones he usually wears when he shows up at your door, or you at his, or when he goes to get you from work or nights out...

You know he did it on purpose... To pick the most slutty outfit he has as he comes to break up your date with Kyle. The annoying grey sweats that hang off his lip, that hug his thick, muscular thighs, the ones that he never wears boxers under, to make sure you can catch the dick print in the fabric...

And his stupid blonde hair all spiked up with hair gel... It used to be brown, matching his eyes, but he bleaches it now, the idiot... You want to be mad at him, you really do... But when he glances over at you while he's driving, you can't really.

"Garrick's predictable," Simon says, his tongue spitting vitriol as he utters his teammate's name. You'd think he hates the bloke... and right now he might as well do. "Takes birds to the same 5 or 6 places every time. Your brother and I split up to cover half of them each." He explains.

Scoffing, you cross your arms over your chest. "The two of ye have no right." You tell him, scolding him over interrupting your date. "I'm a grown woman."

"Right. That's what you told Johnny. Don't try to use that shite excuse on me." Simon tells you as he turns on the blinker and pulls over.

You haven't driven long. Less than 2 minutes. You could climb out of the jeep if you wanted to and walk home.

"It's not an excuse." You retort as you glare at him, keeping your arms tightly crossed over your chest.

"Right, because you want me to believe you really want to go out with Kyle? Or, let me guess, you 'can change him'?" Simon asks sardonically and laughs as he pulls off his seatbelt.

"I didn't say that." You retort. "I simply said that I can do whatever I want because I'm a grown woman.'

"No..." The blond says in a sarcastic tone. "You... did it because you wanted my attention... And you got it, sweetheart." He replies as he reaches over and unbuckles your seatbelt for you, his hands wrapping around your hip and back, tugging you over the gearshift onto his lap.

"I weren't trying to-" You reply, pushing back against his chest, but only half-heartedly, allowing yourself to be dragged onto him.

"Sure you were. But Gaz, really? Is that the best you can do when it comes to making me jealous?" Simon quips as he makes you straddle his left thigh, bringing you down to sit on it, the gusset of your panties pressed against the warm material of his sweatpants.

His stupid, muscular, hard thigh, the same one you can't help but drool over when you watch him in his tiny rugby shorts during practice and in the proper pitch...

You can feel the taut muscle, even through the fabric, the wait his leg flexes as you straddle it, the way he presses the weight of it against your core, and his fingers dig into your hip before dragging you back and forth.

You bite your lip hard to contain a moan, though he notices the way you're trembling, enjoying the look in your eyes, the way your body warms up, the way your back arches up. It puts a sick smile on his lips, one you wanna wipe off.

"It worked, didn't it?" You reply, trying your best to suppress the pleasure from showing on your face, and instead trying to seem smug. "You're here, right? Came to break up my date for a reason..." You say, clinging onto your little 'gotcha' moment...

Only for Simon to ruin it. "Oh that weren't jealousy, darling." He replies, his smirk beginning to grow into a proud, mocking grin, his dark brows rising and his cheeks puffing up with his smile. "I have no reason to be jealous."

Simon begins rocking you faster and harder against his hard thigh, causing you to whine and mewl, the pleasure building from the friction between your cunt and his thigh.

Your clit is slowly and steadily catching on the fabric, making you tremble and twitch atop him, feeling the coil in your stomach beginning to tighten as it always does whenever Simon starts playing with your clit like this.

"No, actually... Don't have a reason to be jealous about anyone." Simon replies as he leans toward you, pressing his nose against yours so he can properly look you in the eye. "Not Garrick... not Price... not any of those coworkers you're always talking about... nor your old uni mates..." He trails off.

"Simon..." You grumble, bucking your hips against him, wanting to chase your orgasm. How does he do this to you every time? Make you so horny, make you throw away all rationality, make you give in to him?

"I know, sweetheart, I know... Feels good, don't it?" The large man coos at you as he helps you rock against his thigh faster and faster, your hips stuttering and your legs beginning to tremble on either side of him as you steadily grow closer and closer to coming.

"You know what else I know?" Simon teases as he leans over and uses his teeth to nip at your neck and earlobe. "I know that I'll never have a bloody fucking reason to get jealous over you... because You're Mine." He tells you, his tone surprisingly authoritative.

There's something in that claim... the way he finally says the things you've wanted so badly to hear him say... Your climax crashes into you and you go limp against him, your head falling onto his chest and your jaw going slack as you moan incoherently.

"That's it..." Simon coos at you and gives you a couple of pats on your thigh, sliding his hand up over your ass, covered in a new dress you bought on purpose for your date with Kyle. Your cunt is throbbing inside your panties, your walls clenching around nothing and you know you've left a bit of a wet spot on Simon's sweatpants.

"You got off on that, huh?" He teases you in a mocking tone. "Been wanting to hear that for a while now, have you?" You can hear the smirk on his lips as you try to catch your breath and calm your racing heart. He's so fucking mean...

"Piss off, Simon." You retort and pull off him, pushing against his shoulders with both hands and moving pack to the passenger's seat. "Take me home." You say in a huff.

"Of course, sweetheart." Simon replies, his voice still smug and a large shit-eating grin on his lips as he bites his tongue, turning back onto the street.

After Simon pulls over in front of your house again, you hop out, fixing your dress and stomping back toward the house, displeased with his behavior. With him using your feelings for him against him. With him.

His phone rings, echoing through the speakers in the Rover. The small screen on the dash displays Johnny's contact name as Simon is watching you frustratedly fumble for the keys inside your clutch again.

"Been to all three spots. Did you find her?" The Scot's voice comes through the bluetooth speakers as the Mancunian watches you, running his fingers over his thigh where you left a wet stain on his sweats.

"Yeah, mate. Been keeping an eye on them. Kyle didn't try anything and he just dropped her off at home." He replies, watching you for a moment longer.

"Thanks for lookin' out, mate. 'm going for a pint right now..." Soap announces.

"Cheers," Ghost says in a nonchalant date, watching you finally find the keys and open the door, heading inside and turning on the hall light. "You owe me one, had a date planned but spent my evening going after your sister."

"Yeah... yeah... I owe ye." Soap retorts. "Come out me with me, then, 'm sure ye can find a bird at the pub." He offers.

"Nah, mate, 'm knackered. Going to get a good night's sleep." He says and watches you turn to glance at him (or more so his car) through the open door before you turn away again and visibly huff, closing the door behind yourself.

Simon shakes his head, snickering under his breath and saying goodbye to Soap before hanging up the call and grabbing his phone to shoot you a quick text.

"Ur brother is @ pub. Let me in."

Then, he stashes his phone back in his pocket, not even waiting for a reply.

His eyes return to the door and wait patiently, just a couple of seconds go by before you're opening the front door again. Simon smiles seeing that, turning off his car and hopping out.

His girl is so obedient.

[ Ghost Challenge Masterlist ] || [ My Masterlist ]

#ikea writes 💚 #GhostChallenge #cod x reader #cod fanfic #masterlist #call of duty #cod fandom #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon “ghost” riley #simon riley #ghost #cod ghost #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #cod smut #smut fic #ghost smut #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #simon “ghost” riley smut #simon “ghost” riley x reader #simon “ghost” riley x you #x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you #rugby au #smut #simon ghost x reader

[donaidk]

If I see one person cry about those team orders while Lando literally had newer tyres and the pace I will just shove the now more than 4 sec gap between Lando and Oscar in their face.

Oscar is doing great but does not mean he won't be ordered to benefit the team. Just like they would do the other way around too. So stop crying.

Thank you.

#oscar gonna have his time once he has more experience #which isnt far away #he's doing great #but until then what benefits the team will happen

[zeb-z]

“bad and pierre were the heroes of today the server will never know how they sacrificed their reputation to save everyone 😞” yeah and they will never know either, what are you talking about. they made their decisions without having any of the information elquackity had - there were no heroes making a difficult decision to save who they could save. there was no honor in their actions today. bad assumed everyone would be using the same underhanded tactics he planned on using. pierre just wanted to win, survival his priority even if it meant the cost of the others. any so called “heroism” was entirely accidental.

#here is what they knew: the losing team dies permanently. green wouldn’t have many people if at all ‘awake’ today #and their team leader was begging them to keep it tied to give green a chance to fight at least until tomorrow #and there were risks to the 50/50 because they didn’t know for sure what would happen. the point is they agreed to try and make it fair #and see what a tie would result in #they’ve successfully burned the last of their bridges - bad and pierre at least - and maybe doing so avoided total wipe out #the point is they didn’t know that. and hindsight changes nothing. they made the decisions with what they knew and their decisions were not #kind nor honorable #yes it did bury their reputation. not a difficult conclusion. they made their own damn grave with that yknow #and yes I understand their reasonings - I’m still saying they’ve been shortsighted and needlessly ruthless and underhanded #again stressing - this is about qBad and qPierre. meta wise I respect Pierre stirring the pot knowing shit will come down for it #idk burning down everything in an extreme ‘whatever it takes’ burns bridges too #I have too many thoughts I’ll have to make another post instead of tag about it but like. I need us all to be so real rn #I just keep seeing this take about how bad and pierre (bad especially) are soooo misunderstood and it’s like please for the love of god #you are falling for the same tactic bad tries to use on everyone else. a tactic that works for himself time and time again #if he can justify everything he’ll never be in the wrong - and he’s allergic to being in the wrong. hes an unreliable narrator like no other #he didn’t last minute turn in tasks to save everyone and be the hero. he didn’t have that information!!!! #it was an unintended benefit that he doesn’t even know about. we as the audience know about it through quackity. they do not! he didn’t tell #them shit! bad did it to save his team and to protect himself. it wasn’t some masterminded nonsense #this whole idea of them being misunderstood is wild. they took their own reputation and shot it dead like a lame horse #sure they’ve got their reasoning. but actions certainly have their consequences #idk. good luck and godspeed blue team because from here on out it’s gonna be even more of a battle #only tagging base organizational tags o/ this is more of a rant than anything lmaoo #qsmp #mcyt #z speaks

[lixzey]

forever yours.

one two

Timothée Chalamet, cheating on Kylie Jenner? The Wonka actor was spotted kissing an unknown woman in Los Angeles!

You stared at the article on your phone, your hands shaking. You knew you shouldn't think about it; after all, you and Timothée have been dating for four years, and he loves you—only you. But nobody knew that, though. He was a world-famous actor, and you were someone who just so happened to have his heart. You two had decided to keep the relationship low-key and private, away from the chaotic world of Hollywood. Nobody outside of both of your families and friends knew who you were or what you looked like.

You sighed, plopping down on the bed in your boyfriend's apartment. You have been living with him for the last two years, and you loved every bit of it. Timothée was the sweetest boyfriend; he loved to spoil you. He gives you everything that you deserve and more—his words, not yours. You couldn't ask for anything more; you were happily content with the love of your life.

But you still can't brush off the fact that in this story, you were the bad guy. 

It all started in December 2022, when Timothée was forced to date Kylie Jenner. His management thought that it would be beneficial for him, seeing that Kylie was Forbes' youngest self-made billionaire and had tons of fans, maybe more than Timothée had. At first, your boyfriend was reluctant. He didn't want to date anyone else other than you. You two argued, but in the end, you convinced him that it would be good for his career. 

Timothée signed the contract, and he was obligated to date the youngest daughter of Kris Jenner. 

It started with little appearances like Kylie showing up at your home, and you had to leave or hide because there were paparazzis all over the perimeter of your house. Your boyfriend was absolutely apologetic that you had to pretend that you were not his, and it broke his heart to see you smile from the sidelines. 

You assured him that everything's alright. You were okay with everything, as long as, at the end of the day, he came back home to you. 

Some Timothée's fans were hopelessly praying that it was all some sort of PR stunt—which it actually was, but you signed a non-disclosure agreement. You had no choice but to keep it to yourself. Their 'relationship' went on and on, giving the people the benefit of the doubt. 

Until early September, when the PR team decided that it was time to make it public.

You were a little bit heartbroken when you saw it on social media. It was at Beyoncé's birthday concert, a celebrity-studded event, which made it the perfect opportunity to show off their relationship. The way Kylie Jenner had her hands all over your man made your blood boil. Timothée looked uncomfortable, but he didn't have any other choice. You wanted to go and just punch that plastic woman for having her claws all over your boyfriend, but you couldn't do anything. You hated it, but you couldn't bring yourself to admit it. Because if you did, Timothée would drop it before you could even say no. 

The way your boyfriend has his arms wrapped around that plastic bitch made you want to slap her and tear off all the plastic she had in her fake body. The way she kissed your man made you want to feed her to the sharks in the Atlantic Ocean. The way your boyfriend had his hand over her ass made you want to go and make a deal with the devil to rid the world of that woman, and maybe chop off your boyfriend's hands while you're at it. But again, you couldn't do a thing. You were left to watch while another woman pawed at your man. 

Timothée did everything to make it up to you. He would always assure you that it was all for show and nothing more. He loved you, only you, and he would never dream of hurting you. You knew that, of course, but you can't help getting annoyed by it—you won't tell him that though, because you couldn't. 

But now you were a homewrecker, a slut. 

Apparently, someone saw you and your boyfriend kissing. It was your fourth anniversary. Timothée had brought you to your favorite restaurant in Los Angeles and was enjoying the night, celebrating four years of love. After a bit of wine, he kissed you, like he always did—momentarily forgetting his 'girlfriend'. 

The next day, the photo of you and your boyfriend kissing was all over the internet. People were calling you a homewrecker, a slut, a whore, and more. You practically had death threats filling up semi-trucks. People were telling you who you are, and you didn't have a choice, all because you loved Timothée. 

All of this for what? Celebrating four years with the man you love? 

You buried your face in your hands, trying to muffle your sobs. You felt like the whole world was against you, like you were the villain in some twisted fairytale. What did you do to even deserve any of this? You just wanted to be with your man, but the world had other plans. 

“Mon amour? Are you here?” A voice echoed from downstairs. You wiped away the tears from your eyes, putting on another fake smile as you walked down. 

“Hey, love. Are you hungry?” You asked, voice breaking. Timothée looked at you, and you knew he knew something was wrong. You mentally kicked yourself for being so utterly stupid.

“What's wrong, mon amour?” Timothée asked, stepping forward and wrapping you in his arms. 

“Nothing, it's alright.” You lied. You were getting pretty good at lying, not that you were proud of it. 

Timothée sighed, his arms wrapping you tighter against his body. “Y/n, please, baby. I know something's wrong; you've been crying.” You could hear his heartbeat, the loud thumping in his chest calming you. You sighed loudly, burying your face into his chest, the smell of his cologne invading your nostrils. You pulled away abruptly, and the look of confusion on his face made your heart wrench inside your chest.

“I'm okay, don't worry.” 

Timothée cupped your face in his hands, your eyes meeting his. “Y/n, please, mon amour. Just tell me, I just want to help.” 

You took a deep breath. It was now or never. “Have you seen the tabloids?”

Timothée sighed, knowing it was about his fake relationship again. “Can you tell me what it is, baby? I'm sorry I haven't checked out the news.”

“It's just....it's silly, honestly.”

“It's not silly if it's bothering you, my love.” 

“Someone saw us kissing yesterday, and it's all over the tabloids.” you mumbled, your eyes glued to the floor. 

“Oh, baby,” Timothée whispered. “I'm so sorry; I dragged you into this. It's all my fault.” he muttered.

Your heart broke when he said it was his fault. It wasn't; it was the people who were quick to judge. “It isn't your fault, Tim.” 

“It is, baby. I shouldn't have agreed to that PR stunt. I should've just turned it down and spent all of my time with you instead-” You cut him off with your lips crashing with his. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he deepened the kiss. You felt all of your worries evaporate into thin air, and all that mattered was him. The man you have spent four years with, the man you see a future with. 

You pulled away, making him growl as the feeling of your lips left his. You chuckled, kissing him on the cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you more, baby. But….” 

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “But what, baby?” You asked worriedly. 

“Can I see what the article says? And anything else related to it?” 

Your eyes widened slightly. It was one thing for you to read all of those horrid things people have written about you, but Timothée? He would break at the words people have said about you, and you couldn't live with him thinking his fans were horrible to the woman he loves. 

“Baby….” 

“Please, mon amour? You don't deserve to get all the hate.”

You playfully raised an eyebrow, trying to diffuse the tension. “Who said I was getting hate?” 

Timothée chuckled. “I know Hollywood.”

You let out a deep sigh as you rubbed your temples. “It's horrible, mon amour.” 

“I don't care; I still love you no matter what.” 

“You really want to read it?”

“Yes, I do.” 

You opened your phone and showed him one of the videos on TikTok about the articles. 

timmyfan1: omg timmy cheated on kylie with her? yuck, homewrecker. 

kyliestan_: such a slut, going after someone else's boyfriend.

timotheestan: die bitch

– timobaby: yeah, go die in a ditch you slut. 

– kyjennerbaby: not timothée's fans wanting the girl to die 😭

timotheechalamalabingbong: not timothée throwing away his relationship and career for this girl 😭 

kyliebaby: poor kylie, got her heart broken by this douchebag

jennersisters: anyone want to help me find that girl and slap the shit outta her?

– user1: count me in! 

– user2: me too! i'm gonna drag that little bitch down 

“I'm so sorry, mon amour,” Timothée whispered as he turned the phone off. “You don't deserve any of this.” 

You smiled sadly at him. “I know, but this is nothing.”

“No, it's not nothing. They want you to die, and that's not okay…” 

“I don't have any plans on dying, Timmy.” You chuckled. 

"But…but...”

"No buts. I know it hurts, but we have to live with it. I have to live with it. You'll just have to focus on your career, okay?” 

Timothée sighed in defeat. “You're the most precious person in this world; you don't deserve this.”

“And you know it.” You smiled, grabbing his hand in yours. “I don't care about their words anymore, as long as I have you.”

“I don't deserve you.” 

“You do; you deserve me and more.” You chuckled, kissing his knuckles. “I love you, no matter what.”

“I love you, Y/n, I love you so fucking much.” Timothée planted a soft kiss on your lips before pulling you again to his chest. “I'm yours, forever yours.”

You sighed contentedly, melting at his touch, feeling comfort and love in your boyfriend's arms. The only thing that mattered in that moment was you and him; no one could ever take away your happiness. 

Your boyfriend, your Timothée, yours. 

@helens3amstuff @gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @tchalamss @tchalamss @ashlynnmalfoy @crazycat-ladys-blog @michakune @mxltifxnd0m @spencerr3idd @dangelnleif @sthkate @ferrjulie @imnotoverlyobsessive @mel-vaz @elsagreeer @lovely-maryj @meowmeowmau @bobthe-turmpetman29 @saintcosette

#timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet #timmy #timmy chalamet #timothee #lil timmy tim #timothée chalamalabingbong #timothée chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothee x reader #timmy tim #timothée chamalet #timothee fanfic #timothée chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet fic #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee x y/n #timothée chalamet fanfiction #timothee x you #timothée x reader #timothée x you #timothée fanfic #timothée chalamet x you #timothée chalamet fanfic #timothée chalamet fluff #timothee hal chalamet #timothée hal chalamet #timothée hal #x reader #insert reader

[simplyholl]

The Newlywed Game

Summary: You’re forced to play The Newlywed Game with your ex situationship.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F. Reader

Warnings: Angst. Smuttish, but not my usual descriptive smut. 18+ Only. Minors DNI.

See my Masterlist here

“I can’t.” That’s all the explanation you got when Bucky ended your situationship. You were friends with benefits for almost a year. The only rule he had was don’t fall in love. He had too much baggage and he never wanted a family. He didn’t want anyone to depend on him.

You couldn’t blame him, he was traumatized by Hydra. Trapped inside his own body for decades, he was afraid it could happen again. You jumped in head first with him anyways. You were in his bed after every mission, every meeting, every day. You basically lived in his room, not that he would ever admit that. Then one rainy afternoon, you knocked on his door like always. Except this time, he didn’t pull you into his warm embrace.

He moved out of the way so you could come in, and immediately you knew something was wrong. You reached for him, ready to console him, desperate for his touch. He had just finished a mission with Sam and he’d been gone for two weeks. You missed him, and he was usually so excited to see you.

When you placed your hand on his cheek, rubbing the scruff that had grown while he was gone, he wrapped his fingers around your wrist removing it. “I can’t do this anymore.” His voice was so low you could barely understand. Your eyes narrowed at his words. “Have I done something wrong?”

“This has gone on for longer than it should have. I can’t let it anymore.” Your throat tightens, but you refuse to cry in front of him. You walked out and your relationship with him was never the same. You didn’t hang out anymore.

When you were alone, he would leave. He didn’t sit beside you during the Friday night movie. He didn’t choose you for his partner on game night. The other Avengers didn’t know for sure that you were hooking up. You hid it pretty well. They had their suspicions, but neither of you ever confirmed it.

Tony called everyone to the back yard. “What’s all this?” Steve asks, pointing to the stage he had set up. “It’s my anniversary tomorrow and Pepper said she always wanted to play the Newlywed Game. So I had this built so we could play.”

“That’s great, Tony. But who are you all going to play with? There’s four set up’s and only two couples.” Steve gestures to Wanda and Vision. “Thought about that and Cap, you and Natasha are going to play and….” He looks at the whole team, everyone looking in different directions trying not to make eye contact. Except for Sharon, who hung around a lot lately. She was getting closer to Bucky, obviously wanting Tony to choose them. You roll your eyes. “Barnes and Y/N. There now we have all our couples. I’m going to go get Pep, you guys take your spots.”

You look at Bucky,but he’s busy talking to Steve about how ridiculous it is. You hear Sharon agree that he should have chosen someone else. When Pepper comes in, she excitedly claps her hands together. She points to the other teams, “You’re going down!” She laughs, but you can’t help but protest, “This is rigged! You guys and Wanda and Vision are the only real couples!! How is anyone else supposed to win?”

Tony shoots you a death glare but answers, “Cap and Natasha have definitely bumped uglies before. And you and Barnes are close friends. I thought that would make it more fair. But, I do expect to win.” You cross your arms, but accept his answer. Bucky finally looks at you, but it’s not friendly.

Sam comes out, wearing a suit Tony made him wear to host. “I’ll explain the rules. You all have a whiteboard, marker, and eraser. I will ask a question and you will write your answer on your boards. If your answer matches your partner’s you get a point. I’ll eliminate one couple each round until the final tie breaker.”

You take a deep breath. This is hell. But, you do know Bucky better than anyone, so as long as he didn’t ask any crazy questions, you would be fine. “First question. Where is the craziest place you and your partner have had sex?” You freeze. Of course Stark had these wild questions. If you both answered the same, everyone would know that you had hooked up.

You think about lying, but decide the ball should be in Bucky’s court. You’ll answer correctly, and if he doesn’t you’ll know he doesn’t want anyone to know. You quickly scribble your answer, waiting on Sam to call on you. Tony’s answer is Steve’s room and Pepper’s matched. Everyone laughed while Steve said Tony has to pay for his room to be deep cleaned.

Wanda and Vision both answer “in the air.” Natasha and Steve said a table in the meeting room. You turn your board to reveal your answer and Bucky shows his. You look and see that he has answered correctly. “The quinjet?! Damn y’all are nasty!” Sam laughs.

You’re taken back to that moment. You, Bucky, and Bruce were on your way back from a mission. Bruce was driving the quinjet, but activated the mode Tony installed for breaks. As soon as he started snoring, Bucky led you to the bathroom. He took you against the wall, metal hand across your mouth to stifle your moans. It was one of the hottest things you’d ever done. Your suit clung to you in the worst ways after that. His cum dripping down your legs, it was nearly impossible to take off.

The others look at each other in surprise. Scott yells “I told you they were hooking up. No one believed me!” Sharon looks at Bucky so harshly that if looks could kill, he’d be dead. He just shrugs his shoulders. Of course, he would be hooking up with her. Why wouldn’t he? She was pretty and it had been three months since he ended things with you.

The next question was “Who hogs the covers more?” Everyone got it right except for Steve and Natasha. She said that wasn’t a fair question because they never actually slept when they were together. The round continued with four more questions. At the end, Steve and Natasha were eliminated because they had the least amount of points. The rest of you were tied.

“What is your partner’s pet name for you?” Sam asks. That’s easy, “doll”, you write. When you reveal your answers, Sharon looks furious. That must be what he calls her too. It stings, thinking of them together. You don’t have time to dwell on it before Sam asks the next question. “What is the highest number of orgasms your partner has given you in one night?” Your eyes widen, you know the answer, but you don’t know if he will remember.

Tony and Pepper answer three, Tony grins like the cocky asshole he is. Vision and Wanda answer two. Bucky raises his board, “Six?!” Sam shouts, “How were you guys fucking this much and nobody knew?” He laughs. The round surprisingly ends with Wanda and Vision getting eliminated.

But you’re busy thinking about that night. Bucky’s head between your thighs for hours. He barely came up for breath. You were sure he would smother, but he insisted. He didn’t stop until the sheets were soaked, your legs were shaking so hard, you’d immediately fall if you tried to stand up.

He had you screaming his name all night. When he finally started fucking you, he took his time, pulling another orgasm out of you before going back down for another taste. He finally came with you on top. He had to lift your limp body on him, using you like a sex doll. You couldn’t move if you needed too. It was the best sex you’d ever had.

“It’s time for the tie breaker question. Answers don’t have to match, the crowd will vote on the most romantic answers.” Sam states. “When did you know you were in love?” Tony and Pepper immediately begin writing. You’re certain you’re going to lose this one. Bucky was never in love with you. You write your answer, deciding to answer truthfully.

Tony and Pepper’s answers make you tear up, they are so in love. You can only hope you’ll find that one day. You and Bucky reveal your boards at the same time. You glance at his, his answer knocks the breath out of your lungs because it matches yours. The Avenger’s Barbecue. You lock eyes, his gaze softens as he reads your answer.

You’ll never forget such a pivotal moment in your life. All of the Avengers and Shield agents’ friends and family were invited to play games, eat, and have a good time. Emily, who helped coordinate your missions brought her husband and three young children. A baby girl, a two year old boy, and a five year old girl. The children were drawn to Bucky. The two older children swung from his metal arm while he held the baby with his other one.

The image made your ovaries explode. You couldn’t help imagining how he would be if you had kids. He laughed as they asked him a thousand questions, playing on him like a jungle gym. You knew without a doubt, you were in love.

Bucky took a deep breath when he read your answer. Why was it the same as his? Did you know? Was it a prank you were playing on him? Emily’s children were entranced with you from the moment they met you. He couldn’t blame them, he felt the same. They had played with him for an hour before the food was ready. When Tony told everyone to make a plate, you offered to watch the kids while she and her husband got their food.

Bucky watched as you comforted the crying infant. The two older children sat beside you while you read from a book the girl got from their bag. Bucky knew he was screwed. He could see a life like this so clearly. Your belly round with his baby, while you tended to your other children. He didn’t want to admit how badly he wanted that. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He was in love with you.

That night he made love to you, it was softer, slower than the other times he touched you. He knew you could tell the difference too. He placed one last kiss to your lips, willing himself to let you go. The next morning, he left for his two week mission with Sam. He convinced himself that it was for the best if he ended things. He didn’t want to hurt you. You might be okay with it now, but years later you would regret it.

You’d realize having the Winter Soldier for a husband wasn’t worth everything you would have to go through. Then Sharon started flirting with him after Steve rejected her. He hadn’t so much as hugged her, but she acted like she was entitled to him.

Everyone voted for Tony and Pepper to win. They were the real couple and it was their anniversary tomorrow. Tony was going to treat everyone to dinner for being such good sports. You got out of there as soon as it was over. You needed a nap before going to dinner. It was all too much for you. How the hell did you and Bucky make it so far in the game? Why did he have the same answer for the last question? You convince yourself that he knew how you felt.

That night changed everything. The sex was different. If you didn’t know better, you’d swear he was making love to you. He had to be messing with your head. Somehow you manage to fall asleep even with your thoughts racing.

You wake up two hours later, just enough time to get ready for dinner. You put on the little black dress Bucky loved. If he wants to play games, bring it on. You apply your perfume when a light knock sounds on your door. You would recognize the knock anywhere. “Come in” you call. Bucky walks in, his tight black t-shirt hugging him in the best ways.

“Hey doll, we need to talk.” You put your earrings in, anger surging through you. “Talk about what? How you were trying to humiliate me up there? How you’re banging Sharon now? There’s nothing to talk about. You should just go.”

“Humiliate you? What about me? How did you know the answer to the last question?” He demands, charging toward you. “I answered it truthfully, James. How did you know my answer?” You ask, hands on your hips. “I answered honestly too.” He confesses, his blue eyes sweeping over the swell of your breasts.

“Stop lying! I don’t see what the point is. We have been over for three months. Why are you doing this?” He shakes his head, “I was telling the truth. I realized I was in love with you when all those kids were sitting in your lap. I could see our life together. And I wanted it, the kids, the white picket fence, the big house, you.”

“Bucky, I wanted all that with you too. Seeing you playing with those kids made me realize it too.” You sigh, feeling relieved to finally get it off your chest. His lips crash into yours, hands moving at lightning speed to remove all of your clothing. You’re under him in seconds, panting against his lips as he rubs himself against you.

Bucky moans as he sinks into you. He’s always known deep down you were made for him, now he has no choice but to accept it. “I’m so in love with you.” He tells you between thrusts. You claw at his back, his confession almost sends you over the edge. “I am so in love with you, Buck.” You kiss him gently. “Say it again.” He smiles, as you get lost in each other.

Tags

@cindylynn @wheredafandomat @multifandom-worlds @loz-3 @megharat-barnes-reid @kats72 @crimson25 @mochie85 @cakesandtom @lokidokieokie @theallknown213 @alexakeyloveloki @tmilover1993 @yeaiamme2 @pigeonmama @yeehawbrothers @lokischambermaid @fictive-sl0th @nomajdetective @goblingirlsarah @foxherder @weirdothatwritess @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @freegardenbanananeck @lamentis-10 @jainaeatsstars @queenshu

#bucky barnes smut #bucky imagine #bucky fic #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky #bucky fanfic #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes and reader #bucky and reader #bucky angst #bucky au #bucky fanfiction #bucky mcu #bucky marvel #bucky oneshot #bucky smut #bucky x yn smut #bucky x yn #bucky x reader smut #bucky x female yn #the newlywed game

[arlertwhore]

pairing: paige bueckers x fem! reader

synopsis: you try to breakup with paige, but she apologizes the right way.

warning (s): smut, strap, nasty makeout sesh, desperate p (on my knees for her yo), body licking, nipple sucking, ab riding, strap riding, overstim, hairpulling. think it’s all.

word count: like 4k or sum?

author note: GUYSSS SEND ME REQQ im runnin outta ideas but they’re helping fr — omgosh i was kinda lazy w this one but 🤷‍♀️ we’re done soo enjoy!! Unedited again, based off req again, and written very late (again)

For a while now, Paige had sensed things were starting to change between you guys, but she never realized the full extent of it until you were laid out before her, prepared for her to claim what she'd rightfully believed belonged to her and just her.

In that moment and the moments that followed, she'd become immensely startled at how susceptible she'd become to the clear break from casuality your actions unintentionally endorsed. You most likely hadn't seen it that way -- you'd always harbored a tiny figurative crush on Paige from the beginning which you had confided in her friends about.

Paige was also well aware, notioned by your behavior during sex. You consistently praised her for being 'so fucking hot' and would go on fuck-drunk-tangets about how attractive you found her, or you'd occasionally steal a kiss from her whenever her lips were momentarily unoccupied during your hookups. She found your excitement endearing and trusted your ability to turn it off outside of the bedroom, which you always did. But for the first time ever, truly ever since you guys had fucked, which was countless times now, you had let your emotions overcome you, and you had kissed Paige in a way that was incredibly intimate, meant for real lovers.

Due to her occasional tiredness that sometimes prohibited the girl from leaving, she had spent the night, and the morning after, when you had both woke up interwined, naked with your bodies against each-other, you gave her a telling gaze before foolishly pressing your perfect lips against hers in a way that didn't require a genius in strictly physical relationships to realize that wasn't the moment for a kiss.

One thing about Paige, though, was that she couldn't ever resist you. She hated knowing so and wanted to fix it. In the same way you had a silly crush on her, she always held a small amount of an irrestible infatuation with you. If she didn't want to do something, Paige always managed to stop herself, but with you, she could never regain control or resist certain instances at particular times.

As most casual partners did, you two never kissed without it leading somewhere, and you were both aware of the limited time you guys had.

Yet, you spent a significant portion of that dwindling time passionately making out in bed like lovers, not pausing for a single moment to even catch your breath. It was undeniably intimate, passionate, and emotional, yet to Paige, it felt like another mistake, this time on your end. She knew you were very smart but chose to give you the benefit of the doubt. Due to her budding feelings, she chose to believe it could've just been her misreading the signs of the kiss and it could've been normal, just you being overly excited on accident, which happened to the best of us.

It could've even been you savoring your last moments with her before life resumed again.

You had been busy working and going to group study dates with your friends while Paige and her team traveled a city over to train at a renowned studio before their big game on the weekend, meaning she'd be gone until the next Tuesday, a week from your morning together.

It had been Thursday, a good ways through the week until Paige returned and until you had your off day booked, but you guys had not texted or called despite both thinking of each-other lots. All your friends, who previously didn't care about Paige, believing her to be nothing but a douchey-player-skeeze, finally cared enough to listen to your loss of virginity story. Every detail, from the precise strokes she gave you to her entranced demeanor at the state she'd left you in and the morning after story made them recognize the intensity and intimacy in the situation.

Some of them believed that Paige was breaking from her usual behavior, what they called her many 'laws', because she was starting to seriously like you, but the others thought it had been the opposite way around. They said she had gotten what she wanted from you and was done, seeing no point in caring about her rules at the end of the road. From the beginning of your involvement with her, they warned you that it was a trap designed to make you develop feelings before she eventually lived up to her player reputation and broke the heart of an innocent, never-before-loved girl. This topic sparked a heated debate among your friends, who relished the opportunity for debate. As they argued about whether Paige had fallen in or out of love, a grave realization hit you like a ton of bricks.

Before Paige settled down with you only, a choice she made on the basis of you being the only girl she was seeing who wasn't stress, drama, or complications, she was always transparent about her weekends after big games. If she had chosen to stay where the game was hosted for the weekend instead of coming back home to relax after a busy week, it meant she was getting with other girls. ou weren't by any means dumb. Paige was going to leave you; not for any of the debated reasons, but because she had likely realized the intimacy long before you had and was now prepared to escape. The kiss you initiated was spontaneous, and Paige likely knew this, choosing to begin a subtle breakaway. She'd start by making it clear she would be with other girls, not calling or texting, thus ghosting you, hoping your smart self would catch the hint.

And boy, you had. You broke down. On the kitchen floor, all your moments with Paige, starting from the beginning, replayed in your head in a loop. You remembered when you first met at the party, the way she looked at you, and how it felt when she kissed you. Then, there was the first time you two had sex. You recalled how nervous you were, and how she reassured you, alike the presumed, figurative and literal last time you had. You reflected on the first time you ever cried in front of her, upset at your grades and the first time she opened up to you about her struggles with wanting a normal life while also being committed to her career. It was a rare glimpse into her world, and it brought you closer together.

As these memories flooded your mind, you couldn't help but feel a deep sense of longing and sadness for what was now lost.

Life had become unbearably stressful, and you found solace in Paige's company, perhaps subconsciously evading your stress by seeking her out. She was more than just a girl you were fucking ; she was a friend, someone you could turn to when you had no one else. But now, the prospect of experiencing her comfort again seemed uncertain, and you couldn't shake the feeling that it was all your fault for initiating this foolish ordeal in the first place. You were upset, feeling betrayed by Paige's sudden detachment. How could she just let you go like that? You felt dumb for ever believing she wasn't capable of it, despite her warnings. The exhaustion from juggling school, work, and studies had reached its tipping point, and you were overwhelmed by it all. Your thoughts swirled endlessly in a sea of self-doubt and despair. "My friends were right," you lamented. "How could I agree to getting used by her?" you cried out. Thoughts of your own perceived foolishness echoed in your mind. "I'm so dumb," you whispered to yourself, feeling like you had single-handedly ruined everything.

And in a fit of utter madness, you decided to text her, asking: ur stayin over the wknd? lmao i just realized that wtf? When an hour passed, her typical response span, you lashed out and texted: who are u fucking paige? All boldly. You never questioned it -- that was a rule. But who cared about breaking her rules at this point? You following them for this long had got you nothing but dumped and ignored like a piece of trash.

To your expentancy, Paige never replied and you texted her a long paragraph detailing your frustration with her. As you reached the end of your message, a sense of clarity washed over you. In a futile last attempt to take control of the situation, regardless of who said it first, with a heavy heart, you made the difficult decision to end things, recognizing that prolonging the pain was no longer an option.

Then, you got up, got dressed, and went to the gym. There, you released all your pent-up energy and had a chance to focus on yourself. Needless to say, you slept soundly after letting your emotions out, feeling a weight lifted off your shoulders at chosing to prioritize your own well-being.

Paige's morning (and night) was a stark contrast to yours. While you wept, she was getting with a UCONN cheerleader after hours and drunk out of her fucking mind. She woke up at the side of a random girl while expriencing the worst hangover she had ever had, unable to recall the events of the previous night.

She stumbled from an Uber to her dorm house, feeling disoriented and sick. Upon returning home, Azzi noticed her state and confiscated her phone to retrace her night, only to discover a barrage of texts from you. Paige spent the next two days sleeping off her hangover, feeling utterly drained. On Sunday, when the rest of the team returned home, they staged an intervention for Paige.

They expressed concern about her drinking habits and advised her to focus on her career rather than letting a girl consume her thoughts. They warned her against reconciling with you, citing your recent breakup and her drinking as red flags. Paige felt confused and defensive as her team confronted her about the relationship. She argued that there was nothing wrong with it and denied being as invested as they claimed. However, when they pointed out evidence of her attachment to you, including her lock-screen, her taking your virginity, and the videos of you she frequently watched without caring for being caught, she felt defeated. It was at that moment, when her world seemed to be pushing you two apart, that Paige discovered you had initiated the push yourself. She felt the same heartache and confusion you had felt the day before. Despite trying to maintain a facade of indifference, she couldn't deny the impact the situation was having on her. Despite her efforts to focus on training, playing, and studying, thoughts of you consumed her late at night, leaving her feeling torn and emotionally drained.

She knew it was probably wrong to do so, but once again, she gave you the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps you were going through stuff or maybe it was just a momentary lapse in judgmental. There was no way you truly meant to end things and this rebellion was very uncharacteristic of you. Paige felt the need to see you face-to-face, to observe your behavior and gauge if you were truly done with her, and if she was truly done with you as her friends suggested she should be. Plus, she had always emphasized the importance of speaking in person, so you should have known to expect her at your door on Tuesday night.

Coincidentally, you had just ordered dinner, so when you heard the knock, you pulled open the door without hesitation and froze dead in your tracks at the sight of her.

"Hey," she half-smiled, awkwardly. This was bad. What the hell was she doing here? Deep down, you knew you were still tangled up inthe aftermath of your decision, but that didn't stop the instinctual yearning that surged within you at the sight of her. You hadn't even expected her to show up, stirring a potent mix of confusion and desire that pulsed through your veins and heart like a wildfire. As you stood there between your door-frame, silent, your body betraying you with insistent tingles and heated pulses to your clit, she continued. "I know I should've called or texted you back before showing up, but I've been in some shit," Paige confessed, her voice tinged with regret. "I just wanna talk." "You're right, Paige. You should've texted me back or called me. Your entire week away, why didn't you?" you pressed, voice sharp with frustration. A silence hung heavy in the air briefly before the girl scratched the nape of her neck, her demeanor embarrased. "I

was hungover," she admitted sheepishly. You nodded, your tongue poking at your cheek as you mulled over her response. "Alright, well, it's not my fault then, Paige. Goodnight," you stated firmly, intending to close the door. However, with her strength, she held it open as she insisted, "Don't be a bitch, y/n. You aren't this kinda girl." Against your will, the door was opened fully. "No, Paige, you don't get to ignore me and then show up to fix things when you realize I'm not just some toy at your convience and that I can make choices in our situation too. Up until now, I've respected everything you've ever told me, so just this once, respect what I said to you," you asserted firmly.

Paige could have engaged in a heated debate with you, confident in her ability to outmaneuver your frustrations, but that wasn't her intention being there. She wasn't ready to lose you yet. "You're that mad at me? You wanna end everything?" she asked softly, her voice laced with a hint of vulnerability as she searched your eyes for an answer. You remained silent, averting your gaze from hers, which alone had spoken volumes. She sighed out, remorseful. "I'm sorry." This was a far cry from the Paige you'd begun with. At the start of it all, when she held all the power and you were simply the girl, she would have never uttered a straightforward apology. If she flaked on you and showed up later, she didn't apologize outright. Instead, she tended to offer explanations for her actions. Presently, she had not even attempted her typical evasive manuvers. "I'm an asshole." she conceded self-deprecatively. And oddly enough, with her hands clasped behind her back, chewing out her bottom lip, and a look of remorse on her face, she just looked so sexy to you.

Your face had lit up after she'd insulted herself, like it had pleased you, and when Paige saw your change in demeanor, she instantly recognized a positive response from you to anything she'd said, so she spoke again, her tone now more fervent and eager for your acknowledgment. "I am, right?" she implored, her voice tinged with desperation, as if searching for validation from you. When you tried to look up, avoiding her eyes, it was her touch next. You craved it. You'd missed it. You wanted it. Yeah, you wanted to be strong too—but with her hand interlocking with yours, you really wanted it. She did too. You could feel her eyes tracing down your body, and in that moment, you knew Paige missed you too, even if she was acting a fool in absence. She could have any girl in the world, but here she was, becoming undone, unraveled, so desperate just for you. You nodded your head carefully, confirming your agreement with that sentiment. She was an asshole. "Yeah," she murmmured, her desire for your approval palpable. You couldn't even bring yourself to look at her as her head buried itself delicately in the crook of your neck—it would make it all too real. At first, she's still, engulfing your scent with deep inhales like a curious dog. As she inhales, the air sends shivers down your spine, making your skin tingle with anticipation. Every nerve in your body feels alive, sensitive to her every touch. That's what causes you to let out a soft moan when with a desperate hunger, Paige's tongue glides over your skin, tracing every curve of your crook with an urgency that betrays her need for you and leaves you breathless. She keeps going, entirely undeterred by your half-hearted whisper of, "Paige, stop." as your hand rests on her waist, holding her close. It's as if something has come over her. She acts like she's starved and can't get enough of you. Like she's trying to imprint every inch of you into her memory before you slip away. "Don't leave me," Paige's voice trembles with longing as her hand snakes down to grip your ass tightly. "Please."

You're losing yourself too, succumbing to the intoxicating heat of the moment. Other building occupants could stumble upon the scene unfolding, but in that moment, you don't care about nothing other than her. As the intensity of the moment washes over you, your head, previously tilted backward, comes down instinctively.

You shut your eyes tightly, feeling the warmth of Paige's lips against yours as you press into the kiss. Her tongue darts against yours and with an insatiable hunger, she begins to prod at your tongue, licking that too. You can taste the faint trace of yourself on her tongue, heightening the intensity of the moment as you both vie for control in the kiss. You begin to grind against each other, your bodies moving in a frantic rhythm that mirrors the urgency of your kisses, and your lips struggle to keep pace with the fevered tempo as you move against each-other, Paige groaning loudly, unable to contain the surge of arousal exiting her pussy. With each further movement, spit begins to fall on your chest, a tangible sign of the passion consuming you both.

In the blink of an eye, Paige has slipped into your apartment. She places you against the front door and her lips trail across your chest as she swiftly undresses you. You find yourself yielding to her advances. She exudes a strength that renders resistance futile.

As your clothes fall away, Paige doesn't linger to admire the sight before her. She mentally accounts how she couldn't ever take the sight of your body, in real life and not over a phone, for granted, but she's too worked up to say anything to you at this point.

As she lays you down on the bed, she wastes no time in shedding her shirt, revealing the contours of her body clad in a sleek sports bra. The definition of her abs catches your eye, a testament to her week of rigorous training. A small moan escapes your lips at the sight, fueling the desire that courses through your veins. Instead of passively accepting her advances, you decide to take control. Rising up on your knees, you grasp the strings of her sweatpants and pull her towards you, eyes locked with her blueys. "I wanna ride 'em, P," you declare, seizing her by the waist and guiding her onto the bed. She's momentarily lost for words, her eyes widening in bewilderment. "W-what?" with a soft chuckle, you help her prop herself up against the bedpost before straddling her waist. Leaning forward, you dangle your breasts enticingly in front of her face.

"You're so strong," you murmur, releasing a loud moan as you rock your hips forward. She flexed in response, mirroring your movements, whether intentional or not, and you felt a rush of heat flood your body. Her solid, sturdy body was perfect for the grind of your clit. "I just wish you were as smart as you are powerful."

Paige held onto your hips as you ground forward, the slickness between your bodies creating a smooth, frictionless glide. With a husky tone, she murmured, "All wet for me, huh, ma?"

"Who wouldn't be?" you whimpered in response, your hips bucking eagerly against her. As you increased your pace, Paige delivered a sharp slap to your ass, exactly how she knew you liked it, eliciting a sharp cry from your lips. "You still like me," she stated the obvious truth as you shuddered uncontrollably beneath her touch. Her mouth latched onto your nipple as you continued grinding, the feel of her lips and tongue making your hips stutter. "Mmph, fuck, P, wait... I'll cum if you..." you paused, halting your movements to catch your breath as she continued to suckle at your chest. With a loud 'pop', she unlatched, her own chest heaving with desire. "Can I fuck you with it again?" she asked, her voice thick with need and longing, her eyes searching yours for consent to do what began all this in the first place. "In the drawer," you replied mundanely, trying to hide your excitement though your desire for her was raging. You reasoned that the more unamused you behaved, the more she would try to make it up to you, all calculated to draw her closer while maintaining a semblance of control.

As she dug through your drawer and began to fit it on upon the bed, you stood up, positioning your vanity mirror to face the bed.

You needed to see yourself for what you were about to do. Climbing onto the bed, you slithered up Paige's body slyly, pointing your finger toward the mirror, your reflections capturing the desire and anticipation in both of your eyes. "Kay," you huffed, elevating your hips and watching as you slowly sunk down on her. She held your hips to help you, but you pushed them off, frowning fauxly.

"What, Paige? Don't think I got it in me to fuck you?" you teased, elevating slowly before coming back down again. With her hands behind her head, arms involuntarily flexing, she shook her head. "Never. Not how I fuck you." You ticked your head. "Let's see then. Shut up and let me focus." As you picked up the pace, you closed

your eyes, lost in the sensations coursing through your body. It was a familiar feeling, one you had forgotten but now remembered all too well. Paige's heavy breaths, entertained, echoed in the room, a testament to the intesity of the moment. You struggled to find a steady rhythm, letting instinct guide your movements. "Baby, slow it d--" Her voice, calling you "baby," sent a jolt of pleasure through you. "Mmh," you squeaked listlessly, "Fuck, Paige, keep talking to me," you moaned, bouncing on the thick member, your head thrown back in abandon. "What's the magic word?" she teased, her words sending shivers down your spine. "Pl-please," you stammered, your body on fire. "Good girl, baby. You know I love when you use your manners," she cooed, her words driving you over the edge. Unable to resist any longer, you surrendered to Paige's devotion, allowing her to guide you toward the peak of ecstasy, despite the initial intention of taking control.

She remembered how much you enjoyed it on your stomach. With precision, she slammed her hips against yours, pounding you relentlessly for around ten seconds before deciding to switch your position, sensing that you were close. With you now on your stomach, she placed a hand on your hip and pressed you down against the bed as she continued to pound into you with fervor. Gripping your hair, she pulled you up so you could see yourself in the mirror, intoxicated by the sight. You looked utterly wrecked. Drool escaped your parted lips, your hair matted with sweat, and tears streaked down your flushed cheeks. She had fucked you so relentlessly that it bordered on painful, yet the pleasure was incomparable. The sight of her biting her bottom lip as she worked you over, plunging deep inside you without breaking a sweat, was mesmerizing. "I'm sorry, baby," she whispered, leaning forward and pressing her body against yours as she continued to piston her hips, driving deep into you. "I'm so, so sorry. I hope you forgive me. I won't stop until you do."

Paige's powerful strokes sent loads of pleasure coursing through your bones, each thrust causing you to shake. You gripped the sheets tightly for stability, your nails digging into the fabric as she plunged into you with a hunger that matched your own. With your legs wrapped around her, you met her gaze, drowning in the intensity of her eyes as she devoured you with hers.

The sight of her arm muscles flexing as she held you steady, abs too, and her body working against yours fueled the fire burning within you, and it was only a matter of time until you exploded entirely. The reflection in the mirror only added to the raw eroticism of the moment, capturing the sheer intensity of your connection, the passion that consumed you both. She had you completely at her mercy, using you for her own pleasure, and yet, you couldn't help but revel in the sheer ecstasy of it all. "I wanna cum, Paige," you whimpered, your voice thick with need. "Please, just keep fucking me like that." The sound of skin meeting skin echoed in the room, a song of want mingling with the rhythm of your moans. You surrendered to the pleasure, letting it wash over you in wave after wave of bliss, each one pushing you closer to the edge of oblivion. "Do you forgive me yet?" she breathed, her voice dripping with cockiness. You shook your head, the ache of desire mingling with the sting of resentment. "Why not, baby?" she teased, her lips curling into a wicked grin. The truth spilled from your lips, a confession. "Because you're so fuckin' mean to me," you gasped, the words punctuated by a moan as she drove into you with renewed fervor. She shook her head, a smirk playing at her lips as she reveled in the power she held over you. "If I was mean to you, would I be fucking you to tears?" she taunted, each word pushing you closer to the brink of surrender. Please, Paige, faster, m'gonna cum so hard," you gasped, your nails digging into her wrists as you begged for more. "Yeah, baby?" she purred, disregarding the marks on her skin as she complied with your request, increasing the tempo with each thrust. "Fuck, P, yeah," you moaned, "shit mommy, I'm gonna cum." But she slowed herself slightly, denying you release. "No, you're not," she asserted, her thumb wiping away your tears as she held your gaze. "Not until you ask mommy to."

"Ughhh, P, so mean," you whined, complying, "please, mommy, please let me cum on your cock."

She smiled, proud. "C'mon baby, give it to me, mama," she urged, her movements becoming more frantic with each word. "Give it to me," she repeated, "give it to me," and when you finally did, your entire body convulsed, pleasure washing over you as you released, your essence squirting out and staining the sheets. You moaned loudly, the sound echoing in the room, uncaring if your neighbors could hear, lost in the throes of ecstasy. But she didn't stop, continuing to fuck you even after you'd climaxed. And when you finally begged her to stop, overwhelmed and spent, she paid you no mind, only focused on one thing and one thing only. "You forgive me, baby?" she asked, her thrusts sloppy. "Yes, yes, yes, Paige. I forgive you," you murmured, unable to raise your voice any longer."Huh?" she teased, forcing you to speak louder. "Yes, Paige. I FORGIVE YOU!" you declared, the words ringing out as she abruptly withdrew from you. You knew what she wanted next as she removed the strap, her intentions clear. "Let's put your mouth to use," she commanded, and the night was far from over.

an: y/n delulu era? Idk how I rly feel ab this one lmk guys I love reading your comments and my inbox it’s like the best 🤞

click here for masterlist

#smut #18+ only #paige x reader #paige buckets #paige bueckers fic #paige x fem reader #Paige x oc #Paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers #bueckersxfemreader #smutwccb #smut bueckers #uconn huskies #march madness #uconn vs iowa #paigesmut #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #ncaa wbb #ncaa tournament #ncaa march madness #strapsmut #wlw smut #wlw post #pb #Paige bueckerswlw #Paige #wlw #woman’s basketball

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

A Rarity

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~900

Warnings: fluff

Summary: You have a rare genetic code called heterochromia. You have two different colored eyes that you have tried to suppress ever since you got seriously bullied in middle school. Just when you're about to present a case, you find your contact case is missing.

Square Filled: friends with benefits (2022) for @spencerreidbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Today is the day you start your new job as the team’s liaison. You’ve always been part of this since JJ was the main person to deal with it. However, she’s been promoted to profiler which means all the slack now falls on your shoulders. You love interacting with families and comforting them when they most need it.

This is the first case when it’s just going to be you, so you’re kind of nervous about it. Before going into the briefing room, you decide to touch up on your makeup and hair as if you’re going in front of millions on the TV to present the case. You take out your contacts and leave them to rehydrate on your desk while you go to the bathroom to fix your makeup.

Once you’re done, you make sure not to look into anyone’s eyes as you make your way back to your desk. The first thing you do is put away your makeup. The second thing you do is grab your contacts to put them back in but they’re not where you left them.

“Shit,” you curse and go through your entire desk. “No, this isn’t happening.”

You’re panicking at the thought of not having your contacts. You don’t need them to see, in fact, you have 20/20 vision. No, you use them only for color because you have a rare thing called heterochromia. Your right eye is bright blue and your left is bright green. You were born with two different eye colors. No one in your family has this genetic but you, so you have no idea where it came from.

Ever since you were enrolled in school, you were bullied for your eyes. It didn’t start getting bad until middle school when kids were more focused on appearances than learning and making friends. Kids in elementary school actually found them to be cool but only because they were little kids who didn’t know any better.

Your peers made you hate this part of you even though you can’t do anything about it. As soon as you started high school, you begged your mom to get you colored contacts. You’ve been wearing them ever since even into your adult years. You choose a natural blue to make yourself look more normal. Had you not had those, you would for sure get bullied even worse than in middle school.

The longer you went wearing them the more people thought your eyes were just one color. No one at work knows about this or so you thought. The only person who might know about this is Spencer but that’s only because you two have been friends with benefits for quite some time now. It helps to have one to work off the stress from work. Plus, he’s an amazing lover so there’s a plus.

You two aren’t dating just fucking a lot.

While he was getting ready this morning at your place, you were in the bathroom rushing to do your makeup. You hadn’t put your contacts in just yet so if he were to walk in the bathroom, he’d see your eyes for what they truly are. He was getting ready and peeked through the open door to see if you were close to being done when he saw the beauty in your eyes. He didn’t say anything about it so as not to embarrass you.

He walks into the bullpen from the break room to see you panicking.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Where are my contacts? I just had them on my desk.”

“I didn’t know you wore contacts,” he lied. You refuse to look at him without them in. “I’m sure it’ll be alright. You have glasses, right?”

“Yes, but--”

“But what? What’s the problem?”

“Never mind,” you groan and continue looking for them.

“Hey, look at me.” When you don’t, he sets his coffee down on the desk and grabs your chin gently. He makes you look at him but you close your eyes so he doesn’t see their colors. “Open your eyes.”

“No,” you shake your head.

“Darling, open your eyes,” he says gently.

He would be the person to find out eventually. You sigh and open your eyes to show him the rarity you have. Now that he gets to see them up close, he’s falling more in love with you. You might not have feelings for him but he certainly has them for you. He only keeps you as a fuck buddy because if he were to tell you the truth, he might lose you.

“What beautiful eyes you have.”

“They’re ugly,” you sigh and pull away from him.

“Who told you that?”

“Everyone I’ve ever known,” you scoff. You look at your watch and notice the time. “Shit, I have to give the case out.”

“No one is going to notice.”

“Are you kidding me? They’re so bright. They stand out.”

“Fine, if they make comments, I’ll handle it.”

You have no choice but to go in there without your contacts. You sigh and grab your things before heading to the briefing room with Spencer. Everyone is already in there waiting so you immediately get started. As you’re talking, you notice Spencer watching you with a smile on his face.

“You’re beautiful,” he mouths to you.

Your cheeks heat up but you don’t let it show how happy he makes you. The briefing only lasts thirty minutes before Hotch announces wheels up. When everyone is packing up to get out of there, you notice something sticking out of Spencer’s back pocket. 

Your contact case. You want to be mad at him for taking it but maybe it’s time to let your rarity shine.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fan fic #spencer reid fan fiction #spencer reid fiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #cm fanfiction #criminal minds fic #cm fic

[kayesfanfics]

Being Friends with Benefits with Gambit

Warnings: NSFW, AFAB reader, mentions of cheating, one sided love, love triangles around every corner, Morph lowkey has a crush on you

You and Gambit had always been flirty with each other, but nothing that got physical, at least until he came to you one day. He was sick of chasing after Rogue when she didn’t want him back, so he wanted to both make her jealous and let out some pent up energy. You decided to indulge him, admitting to yourself that you really did need a good lay, and you wanted to see Rogue get jealous because of you. So you agreed and let him lead you to his bedroom, which happened to be a couple doors down from Rogues’

After that first night, the two of you went to each other when you were either horny, frustrated, jealous, or all of the above. You didn’t explicitly tell the team but they all knew, having either heard you themselves or hearing it through the gossip that quickly spread through the Mansion. Rogue had shown she was a bit upset, but she also couldn’t blame Remy after making him chase after her and leading him on when she was still shacking it up with Magneto. Still, that didn’t stop the pang in her heart when she saw him whisper to you before you giggled and followed him upstairs. You and Gambit both knew you were hurting her, but Gambit was sort of okay with it and you egged him on, saying she deserved it for leading him on all these months

You watched with disdain as Gambit’s eyes were on Rogue across the table, whom was not paying him any attention. You longed for Gambit to look at you that way, but his heart was still set on the southern belle, yet his dick was set on you. You convinced yourself you were okay with that, thinking that at least he came to you for something, even if it was just sex. But truly deep down, you wished he came to you for so much more. For now though, you pined after him as he pined after Rogue.

“Meeting dismissed. Gambit, Y/N, Jubilee, don’t forget you’ve got the Danger Room with me in an hour. Good luck.” Scott grinned, before leaving the table to go tend to his pregnant wife.

“Looks like we’re gonna get our asses kicked together, chere.” You smiled at Gambit, using the nickname he used on him.

“Yeah, looks like.” He mumbled, watching Rogue leave the room, no doubt headed to Magnetos office. You glared at the back of her head, jealous that Remy was so focused on her that he couldn’t even see you throwing yourself at him right next to him. You glowered and left the table, crossing your arms, knowing he wasn’t watching you leave. You went towards the kitchen to get a drink, definitely needing a beer before fighting Wolverine soon.

“God, that’s gotta suck hard.” You heard a playful voice from somewhere behind you. You turned and saw Morph grinning at you like a creep from the hallway, before he jumped onto the counter you sat at.

“No shit, Morph.” You grumbled, taking a swig of beer as you wallowed in your self pity. “I just…I don’t get it! Why can’t he see I’m better for him? She doesn’t pay him any mind!”

“That’s what he’s thinking about her and Magneto,” he shrugged. “You can do better than him, y’know? You deserve someone who pines after you, Y/N.”

“Yeah? Like who?”

“I don’t know…maybe-“

“Oh, this is pathetic.” You both turned to see Wolverine watching you two from the fridge.

“What is?” You asked, looking at Morph in confusion.

“You two! Both of you! All of you! It’s ridiculous, really.” He grouched at you, grabbing a beer for himself.

“Aren’t YOU pining after Jean?” You teased, making him glare at you and Morph snicker.

“This ain’t about me, I’m talking about you! Morph after you, you after that southern weasel, him after Rogue, Rogue after magnet man!” Wolverine ranted before chugging some beer.

“What do you mean ‘Morph after me’?” You asked in confusion, looking up at Morph’s embarrassed face.

“Nothing! He means nothing!” Morph glared at Wolverine, who simply rolled his eyes and went back to his beer.

You grumbled in frustration, finishing your beer and tossing it before leaving. Everything was so confusing in this place, there were love triangles everywhere you looked and apparently, you were in a few of your own. You just wanted Remy to look at you how he looked at Rogue, why was that so hard?

*later that day…*

“Ya know jus’ how ta rile Gambit up, don’ ya chere?” Remy growled in your ear as he kicked shut his bedroom door behind him, your lips locked on his jawline, leaving large and dark hickies behind as your hands clawed at his trench coat. He moaned slightly at your actions, his hands feeling up your body that he carried in his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist and his hands grabbing handfuls of your ass and plush thighs as he walked the both of you over to his bed. His room was dark and smelled of his colonge, his sheets surprisingly soft as he laid you down on it, immediately climbing on top of you and letting his hands trail up your sides to your breasts, squeezing them and making you toss your head back and bite your lip as he played with them.

“Remy, please!” You whined, desperately needing to feel his touch without your suits blocking his skin. He raked his hands down your chest and abdomen before holding both your thighs in his hands, keeping them wrapped around him as he started to attack your neck with his soft lips. You moaned and grabbed a handful of his wild hair, pushing him closer to you as he sucked at that sweet spot behind your ear that sent shivers down your spine, making your back arch off the bed and press your clothed chests together.

“Why ya always gotta mess wit’ me durin trainin, dollface? Nearly fucked me right there in front’a ol Morph and Scott.” He said between kisses, his red and black eyes watching your face as you moaned and but your lip for him.

“I can’t…can’t resist you!” You pulled his hair so his lips would meet yours in a frantic kiss. “So handsome…so sexy…so wonderful…” you moaned between kisses, out of breath but not caring as you kissed him again and again.

“Aw, you charm Gambit, mon cherie~” he smiled and pulled away from the kiss, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it somewhere behind him. “How bout you show Gambit how sexy he is, huh?”

You smiled excitedly as he got off you so both of you could undress quickly, tossing clothes carelessly onto the floor, so focused on each others bodies you couldn’t care less about the mess. As soon as the both of you were undressed, you grabbed Remy by the shoulders and pushed him onto his back, climbing on top of him and straddling his waist, your pussy sitting atop his dick but not penetrating yourself just yet. You started with kissing his chest and teasing his nipples with your tongue as he folded his arms behind him to watch the show, his usual shit eating grin on his face as he watched you ravage his body. Your hands glided along his sculpted abs, following his happy trail down to his cock, one hand palming it while the other continued to feel up his body. After some more teasing, he bucked his hips up into your hand and raised an eyebrow at you, giving you the signal that he was getting tired of your teasing.

“So impatient~” you purred, trailing a finger down his chest as you crawled down the bed until your face was level with his cock. You grabbed it fully in your hand finally, making him sharply inhale as you started to move your hand slowly up and down his shaft. His arms moved to grip the sheets as you opened your lips to suck on his tip gently, swirling your tongue teasingly and watching him squirm below you. You smirked with a mouthful of his dick until his hand grabbed your hair and shoved you down, his cock quickly hitting the back of your throat, making you choke and gag around him. He heartily laughed at your reaction as he moved your head at the pace he pleased, eventually letting go once you found a good rhythm for him. You gripped his thighs when his hips bucked up into your face, warning you that he was about to cum. You braved yourself by squeezing his thighs until his semen sprayed down your throat, then rubbed his thighs as you swallowed everything he gave you.

“Fuck, chere!” Remy panted as he came down from your high, watching you sit up and wipe your mouth elegantly, your eyelashes batting at him sexily as he caught his breath. He suddenly sat up and pushed you face first into the bed so your ass was up and your face buried in the covers. You moaned as you felt his hand grab a handful of your ass and grope it, before smacking it hard enough to leave a red mark, making you yelp and grip the sheets beneath you. “Think ya can take Gambit now?”

“Yes! Please, Remy! I need you so badly!” You begged him, tilting your head to make eye contact with him behind you. He smirked and slapped your other cheek, chuckling when you squeaked and buried your face into the covers to hide your blushing face. You gasped when he tugged your hair harshly, before feeling the tip of his cock prod at your entrance. Your back arched impossibly more as he slowly entered you, whining as you felt every inch of him in detail slip into you.

He leaned down to press his chest to your back and place a few kisses on your bare shoulder, asking, “Ya alright, chere? Ready for Gambit?”

You nodded desperately and soon felt his cock pumping in and out of your pussy. You let out a choked out moan as he picked up his pace, hearing the smack of his hips against your ass as he thrusted harder and harder. You whimpered out his name pathetically like a prayer, before feeling his free hand slip beneath you and his fingers beginning to rub and pinch at your clit. You cried out at the feeling of all this stimulation at once, Remy’s skilled fingers and hips fucking you just right into his mattress.

“R-Remy, please! Fuck! Rem, I-I’m gonna…ah!” You screamed as he pistoned in and out of you, his hand pulling your hair harshly and his fingers playing with your clit expertly. “Please please please please please! Gambit! R-Rem!”

“Cum fer Gambit, mon ange! You can do it!” He huffed, out of breath from the workout of fucking you. You gripped the sheets so hard your knuckles turned pale as you shut your eyes, feeling the coil inside of you snap with one last harsh thrust of his hips into your pussy. Gambit slowly fucked you through your orgasm, pulling out and rubbing your pussy softly as he set your shaking body down on his bed, getting up and heading to his bathroom. You heard the sink run, before he returned with a washcloth to wipe down your inner thighs. Your chest heaved as you caught your breath, your abdomen spasming as you came down from your high.

Once clean, he tossed the wash cloth onto the floor with the rest of your clothes and got back into bed with you, tugging the covers over you as he pulled you to his chest. You cuddled into him, hands around his abdomen and face buried into his hairy chest. He mindlessly played with your hair as the both of you relaxed and rested together, holding the other in comfortable silence as your eyes began to feel heavy.

“Remy?” You shyly spoke up, finally breaking the silence.

“Yeah chere?” He asked, not moving his eyes from staring up at the ceiling.

“I um…what are we?”

You felt his hand stop playing with your hair and his breath hitch, before he let go of you and sat up, fidgeting with the covers as you slowly sat up with him, holding the covers up to your chest.

“What’s this about, mon chere?”

“You know what it’s about. I can’t…I can’t keep doing this if this is all we’ll ever lead to. I have too many strong feelings for you to do this to myself. I…I love you, Remy.”

He finally looked you in the eyes, and unreadable expression on his face, before he slowly dissolved into laughter. You glared at him and smacked his shoulder, pouring that he wasn’t taking this seriously.

“I’m, I’m sorry, Y/N! Gambits sorry, it’s just…why does this shit always gotta be so damn complicated?”

“You’re telling me.” You grumbled. “Well? What are we? Answer me.”

“We are…we are friends with benefits currently, no?” He grabbed one of your hands. “Y/N, Gambit loves ya very much, it’s just…he also loves Rogue still too. He couldn’t give ya the full attention ya wanted, not right now at least. It ain’t fair to ya, but I love ya both, at least for now.”

You looked at him sadly, despite already knowing he still loved Rogue. You thought about how Morph felt the same way you did about him, and how Gambit felt the same way about Rogue. It was a complicated love triangle…square? Whatever. It was complicated, full of strong feelings, but you knew what you all felt was real and valid for each other.

“I think I can live with that for now.” You sighed, giving him a sad smile before leaning in to kiss him.

#x men 97 #xmen x reader #gambit x reader #remy lebeau x reader #remy lebeau

[pers1st]

can't quit you - alexia putellas x reader

pairing: alexia putellas x reader

warnings: bit suggestive, angst but happy ending

Taking a quick breath in after sleepily glancing at your phone to check the time, you shoot up in the bed that is not yours, next to the body that is not your dog's, whipping around. Your head drops as you get ever so dizzy, and you hit the nightstand next to the bed with a loud bang.

"Ow", you wince, holding your forehead tightly and pressing against it, as if that would help your pain in any way.

"Joder", a soft voice mumbles next to you as you push the covers back, revealing your still naked body. Usually, it would be dark when you left Alexia's bed, but by now, the sun had risen and you were late.

Fuck.

"Get up", you instruct her as you crawl out of the warmth of the bed, hastily gathering the clothes you'd left on the floor last night.

"Ale, we have training." The blonde is still laying in bed, the duvet cover all the way up to her nose as she shields herself in comfortability. She doesn't react to your words.

"Ale, we're late", you huff as you pull your sweatpants on. At that, the seemingly unconscious body shoots up, banging her head the same way you had.

"¡Joder!", she curses as she mimics your actions.

It's been two months since you last spent a night in Alexia's bed. Your relationship was a long and stable one, and when you broke the news to your teammates, every single one of them was shocked.

You and Alexia, however, weren't. Despite the two years you called yourself her girlfriend, the both of you agreed that it was time to call it quits. Time to go back to being friends. You let yourself become too comfortable, and, along with it - clingy. The two of you could never be apart, and you both know that it wasn't beneficial for you or Alexia individually.

Still, you know that, no matter what happened, you can always count on Alexia, and so the breakup felt less like a stop in your relationship and more like a shift. That's how you found yourself in her bed after a team night out, and then, just a month ago, the two of you silently agreed that whatever this was - it was okay. You had, after all, agreed to remain friends (with benefits, it seemed).

But the golden rule of it all seems to be that you don't stay over. You and Alexia agreed to spend time apart, to be on your own, and although it included late night calls and (sometimes drunken) hookups, you didn't sleep over anymore. You didn't wake up in her arms anymore. Until today.

"Ale, I don't have any training clothes", you sigh, the realization dawning on you that of course, you didn't pack an overnight bag. Why would you? You never stay over.

"So? Wear mine", Alexia shrugs, throwing a pair of shorts into your face. You duck away quickly and watch as the fabric gets caught on the lamp.

"Yeah, sure", you chuckle.

"You go to training, I'll be there once I've driven by my house."

"But that'll mean more extra laps, no? Just wear mine", Alexia huffs, seemingly unbothered by your problem. It's, however, not as easy as it used to be.

"I can't, Ale. We're not together anymore, we don't share clothes, we don't fucking fall asleep together!"

You didn't notice your voice raised until Alexia raises her eyebrows at you, wincing ever so slightly.

With her still looking at you like a deer caught in headlights, you grab your keys from her wardrobe and leave her behind, not caring to say goodbye.

Your ex-girlfriend confuses you. How does she not see the problem? How does she not see the gravity that comes with the night you spent at her flat? How does she not understand the problems this causes?

You huff in annoyance as you walk towards your car, knowing that you'll be running laps for a good half-hour after training, seeing as officially, you were supposed to be there five minutes ago. With the extra ten minutes it took to go home, and the fifteen minute drive to the training grounds, you know that Jona will have a very stern talk to you. The only hope you can cling onto is that Alexia is already there, and the fact that no one notices how weird it is for the both of you to be late on the same day, when you usually never are.

Jona's words are harsh, but they are nothing you can't handle. Alexia already finished her laps during training, it seems, as she is not with you while you round the pitch over and over again. With only two laps left, you speed up slightly, not noticing the figure sat on the bench before you finally come to a stop, reaching for your water bottle.

Keira raises her eyebrows at you silently as you take greedy gulps. It's not a particularly warm day, but the sun is beaming down on the pitch as if it is Summer and the excessive running left you dry.

"What happened? You're never late."

You know by her tone that she is hinting at something, but you shrug as the two of you begin walking towards the building.

"My alarm didn't go."

It's a lie. You didn't even set an alarm, with how exhausted you had been last night. Keira wants to say something else, you can sense it in the way she keeps looking at you and then back down, but you don't urge her to, because you don't want to hear it. You don't want to hear anything, really. You didn't speak a single word to Alexia during training, dodging her every time you were asked to partner up and not cheering her on the way you usually did.

Even now, as you joined Keira for lunch in the cafeteria after a quick shower, you lead your friend to the table furthest in the back, away from everyone else. She doesn't mind, though, instead yapping to you about everything and nothing. Aitana joins you halfway through your meal, and you quickly become the third wheel, though you can't exactly complain. Your head is dangerously close to exploding, with the speed that thoughts are racing through your head.

Maybe sleeping with Alexia after the breakup has been a bad idea. After all, you split because it seemed impossible to spend time away from each other. With the excuse of remaining "friends", you still partnered with her every time, made conversation with her about everything and nothing, ended up in her bed every evening just to escape mere minutes later and pretend nothing happened. It's a vicious cycle, and it needs to stop. And that realization is what's bothering you the most. The fact that you need to stop. The fact that you actually need to be apart from the woman you still love so dearly.

You don't notice Keira and Aitana already left until a new body appears in front of you. Glancing up, you find the one person you didn't wanted to see.

"Estas bien?", she asks, looking down at your full plate. Feeling nauseous all of a sudden, you declare your lunch finished and throw your wet hair over your shoulder.

"Sí", you mumble as you rise from your seat, beginning to walk to the tray of dirty dishes.

"Estas segura?"

"Sí, Ale", you huff, reaching around her to discard your plate.

"Okay", Alexia shrugs. "Are you coming over tonight?"

You shake your head, looking at her with a stare that, admittedly, she doesn't deserve. Alexia isn't the catalyst of this problem, anyways. It was the both of you who made this decision, silently agreeing on a plan that now seemed so foolish. How did you expect to spend every night with her, not allowing yourself to be embraced by her warmth and love, and not fall for her all over again? Alexia agreed to the breakup. She is okay with the two of you not being together again. So, why the hell aren't you?

"No, I can't tonight", you reply, though it is a total lie. You don't have plans at night, ever, because you always know where you'll be. Where you would have been. If the two of you were still together.

"Okay", Alexia says, though it sounds more like a question. You can't seem to stand in her presence for another second, as you bid her a quick, cold-hearted goodbye only to sprint away from the cafeteria and to the locker room to gather your bags and speed home.

Alexia and you agreed. You need to be alone. And you need to practice it, now that you can't drag yourself into her arms again. There is no space for you anymore.

You can't seem to sleep on your own. Before, you were so worn out from Alexia's persistence to wreck you in every possible, leaving you in a sleep so deep the only thing to get you to stir was your shrieking alarm. Now, though, you fall into bed with a thousand thoughts rummaging through your head, and you lie awake for hours, watching the sun set, watching the sun rise, all while tossing and turning around, desperate to find rest.

It's not difficult for the team to catch on. You sweat off every bit of concealer meant to hide the shadows beneath your eyes, and your movements are slow - hazy, almost. Your performance is average, at most, and no one had ever seen you perform averagely.

Alexia notices too - at least you hope, because there is no way she can just forget about you, is there? She watches you curiously, but she never says a word about your piss poor sprints, your late passes or weak shots.

Even Jona seems hesitant to say something - and that is what you're left with. Everyone looking, no one asking. Everyone noticing, no one checking. The whole situation is beginning to drive you insane - Alexia is starting to drive you insane. Though she is not the culprit of this, you can't help but feel your heart wither away every time you look at her and feel just a little bit of anger. This isn't how you want to feel about the woman you loved for such a long time.

It takes you exactly a week to end up in her bed again. Alexia doesn't ask why you are behaving the way you are, and she doesn't react to your hesitation to come over to hers again, which makes you crave her even more. You're a bit like a child, when it comes to these things. You always seem to want what you can't have, to want what doesn't want you. Her head just peeks up from between your thighs as you lean back into her cushions, eyes hazy and head spinning. Alexia is so, so good to you. The anger is long forgotten, at this point.

"Estas bien?", she asks the way she always does, and it causes you to chuckle.

"Sí, Ale. Muy bien", you huff, as she lays down next to you gently, her own body covered in beads of sweat. You push yourself up from the mattress with the last bit of strength you have left, gently straddling her lap as you lean down to capture her lips in another kiss. Realistically, you are worn out, at this point. You've been in Alexia's bed for hours, and the both of you are likely satisfied. But it is so hard to leave.

She chuckles into your lips, intertwining the both of your hands with hers as you finally steal another kiss from her.

This- it felt oddly domestic. There was a softness in her eyes that you haven't seen- or potentially just not noticed, since the two of you broke up. It makes you stop in your tracks.

"What's wrong?", she asks as you lean back on her lap, looking at this glint in her eyes that completely captures you. You can't describe it, but this feels so right- being here, in her bed, being on top of her, laughing, kissing, sharing intimacy, the look in her eyes as she gazes at your every inch, that it feels entirely wrong. These moments are over. Your relationship is over. You have to remind yourself, again and again.

"I should go", you huff silently, pressing one last kiss to her lips before climbing off of her. You almost whimper at the loss of contact, but you rise to your feet anyways, searching for your clothes on her wooden floor.

"You could stay." Alexia sits up, patting the spot next to her as she looks at you, following your every movement with her eyes.

"No, Ale. I should go", you remind her, and remind yourself, and pull your hoodie over your head.

"I'll see you tomorrow?", you ask, though it is a given. The two of you always see each other at training.

"Will you partner with me for passing?", she asks back, a chuckle on her lips.

"Why? Miss me already?"

You only catch the meaning of what you said by the time you are in her hallway, and you pull the door of her apartment close a little harsher than expected. Alexia doesn't miss you. The both of you know it.

It seems like a vicious cycle that the two of you are caught in. Every time you decide to put some distance between the two of you, it leaves you craving her even more. It almost feels like an addiction you are so badly trying to break, but you relapse every time, soaking in every second you can spend in her arms. You go over to hers a few times, indulging the attention she gives every inch of you, and then you leave her high and dry, the wall between you rising again as you dodge her during training and outside of it.

Just last night, you were in Alexia's arms, letting her take care of you the way she always does, letting her kiss every inch of you until there was nothing left and the two of you were breathless.

Today, you didn't speak a single word to her.

Unable to stand the silence in your apartment, you asked Keira to join you for dinner at home, after texting Alexia that you couldn't come tonight.

Alexia, obviously, doesn't seem to believe you as she knocks on your door furiously, all the while Taylor Swift is echoing off the walls of your kitchen quietly, with Keira sitting on the countertop, stirring the pasta every now and then. It is dark in Barcelona already, and just twenty four hours ago, you were with Alexia. Still, she is the last thing you expect when you open the door.

She is dressed in sweats, but she still looks so good. It takes you a second to actually recognize her presence.

"Alexia, I have-"

a guest.

That's what you intended to say, but the woman pushed past you already, barging through your apartment.

"We need to have a talk", she declares as she strides through your hallway. You only manage to catch up to her by the time she has noticed Keira, who looks between the two of you questioningly.

"You, out!", Alexia points to the door as Keira shakes her head, a grin on her face.

"But we haven't had dinner yet!", she protests with a chuckle, but at seeing Alexia's stern face, which isn't kidding in the least, she looks at you, pleadingly.

You shrug. No one disagrees with Alexia.

"Wow, just kicking me out? I'm hungry, you were supposed to feed me! I can't believe this", she mumbles as she pushes herself off the countertop, shaking her head in disbelief as she walks past you.

"I hope your food burns!", she yells from the hallway when Alexia sits down on the couch and you go to turn the stove off. The door crashes closed with a loud bang.

"That wasn't nice", you point out to your ex-girlfriend. Alexia is strict when it comes to football, but outside of the sport, outside of the captain-responsibility, she is the sweetest teammate, friend, girlfriend. Her behavior towards Keira makes you sense the gravity of whichever conversation she is going to have with you, and it makes anxiety tingle in your stomach.

"Sit with me", she orders, though it sounds more like a question when she looks at you and you can see the slightest bit of doubt in her eyes. Along with that softness. That glint.

You are next to her within seconds.

"Y/N, I need to know. If we are friends or not- I can't do this hot and cold", she starts, and the vulnerability in her voice makes you shudder. You didn't know that this affected her at all, she never voiced any complaints, but the way she looks at you makes you realize that this whole situation had nagged her more than she admitted.

"Why did you agree to this- whatever, if you don't want it?", you ask, not knowing how else to describe the situation, curious to know what she is asking of you. Does she not want you to come over anymore? Does she want you to be over every night?

"Because I can't..."

You allow her the time to search for whatever word she is looking for, knowing that she always struggled with English.

"Quit you. I can't quit you, and seeing you, holding you, if you are in my bed I can convince myself that this isn't real, that we didn't break up", she mumbles, her voice barely above a whisper but loud enough for you to hear. She spins your head.

She agreed to the breakup. She agreed that it would be best for the both of you when you first opened the conversation of how dependent you felt on her. In truth, the realization of how much you love Alexia had only hit you when every footballer had suddenly gotten engaged, and you realized that all you wanted was to marry Alexia. The thought was scary, and it sent you into a rabbit hole for a bit, wondering silently whatever you were going to do with yourself when Alexia decided that this relationship just didn't work anymore. Now, as you look at her, you realize that it's foolish. Calling dibs on the breakup was your worst idea yet. But Alexia agreed.

"But you- you agreed, when I broke up with you. You wanted the breakup", you look at her with a questioning gaze, lingering on the freckles on her cheeks.

"Because I don't want to hold you back, amor. If breaking up with me is what you need then I'll try to survive, somehow. But that doesn't mean I want it."

At that, you throw yourself into Alexia's arms. How have you been so stupid? How have you hurt the one and only person you have ever, truly loved, just because you were scared?

You sense Alexia's hesitancy, but after a few seconds, she wraps her arms around you, pulling you even deeper into her chest. You can feel her heartbeat, and smell her perfume, and it makes you question how you have survived the past months without being hers. Her arms feel so familiar, so comforting, that you crave nothing more than to be here - in her embrace - forever.

"I only broke up with you because I was scared. I was so scared of you ever leaving me, and-"

Alexia interrupts you.

"I could never. I could never quit you, amor. You are stuck with me forever", she mumbles into your hair as she gently rocks the two of you from side to side, her arms never loosening around you. You chuckle at her choice of words, though you do admit it is somewhat fitting.

"You'll never quit me?", you ask, a slight smile on your lips as you pull back slightly. At that, she only tightens her arms around you.

"Never. I will never quit you."

notes: this is literally horrible

#woso imagine #woso community #woso #woso fanfics #woso one shot #barca femeni #barca x reader #barcelona femeni #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas

[helen-with-an-a]

The object that stood in the way of a World Cup

Hi. So this is going to be a 2 part (maybe 3 part) story that I've had floating in my head for a while now.

It's angsty - I do want it to end with a fluffy end, but it's getting a little too long to be 1 thing ahahaha. Anyways.

Ona Batlle x Reader

TW: Angst, no direct mention of bad mental health, but it's clear R ain't ok.

Word count: 3.3k

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Epilogue

Flashbacks are written in Italics; for anyone not aware of the British school system GCSEs you take at 16 (you have 3 or 4 choice subjects and 5 or 6 compulsory subjects) and A-levels you take at 18 (you choose 3 or 4 subjects)

Description: R sees Ona again for the first time since their breakup

This is what you had been waiting for. All summer. All year. Hell, probably all your life. The World Cup Final. And the thought absolutely terrified you.

Your first thought after the final whistle wasn’t one of joy or happiness. You weren’t elated like Lessi or Tooney who barrelled into you and squeezed you so tight it hurt. You weren’t jumping for joy like Gee, Kiera and Lucy who manhandled you into the middle of their huddle. You weren’t screaming so loud your voice went hoarse like Hempo and Es. You weren’t standing in disbelief like Mearps and Millie.

Your first thought was of your ex- girlfriend, friend-with-benefits, situationship, Ona. Your first thought was of Ona. Spain had won against Sweden yesterday. And now you had won against Australia. The last time you had seen her was not a fun experience for you. Screaming. Tears. Spiteful words she didn’t mean. But that was the last time you spoke to her. It had been a long 8 months without her.

You weren’t quite sure what you were to each other when you were both at United. You had met on her first day. You were meant to be her buddy. The management had asked around during pre-season if anyone spoke any Spanish. You had done it at A-level, so you stuck your hand up. Barcelona was The Dream for you, so you had tailored your studies at school as much as you could to help you achieve it – taking Spanish at GCSE and A-level and continuing to watch Spanish shows and reading books to help you maintain it. You weren’t fluent but you knew enough that it would help Ona feel more comfortable. And you clearly had.

After winning the first derby of the season, the team had gone for drinks. Alcohol flowed, inhibitions were lost, and boundaries were blurred as Ona ended up in your bed. You had thought it would be a one-time thing. A drunken mistake that wasn’t much of a mistake to you. And it was … until it wasn’t. The next time it happened was at your birthday. And then her birthday. And then the end of the season. And then alcohol wasn’t a factor in taking you both to bed. She was suddenly all around you. Her jumpers were in your wardrobe. Her football boots were by the door. Her stuff was in the shower. Her snacks were in the cupboard. You had never spoken about what you were, but you drove her to training, she cooked you her mother's dishes, you snuggled into her side when watch your show, she slept in your bed every night.

And then it all came crashing down.

November 2022

You knew you needed to tell her as soon as possible. You wanted to tell her the news that had you pouncing on her the moment she stepped through the door. You were happy and giddy and so, so excited. You hadn’t thought that she wouldn’t be all of those things for you. You had made no secret that Barcelona was your dream. Everyone know that if Barcelona came knocking you would be gone without a doubt in your mind. You had received a phone call from your manager that afternoon.

“Hey, Y/N. Are you free to talk? There’s an offer for you.” Paul said down the phone. He sounded composed but happy, it intrigued you.

“Yeh, I’m free. What’s the offer? It’s mid-season though and I’m out of contract in the summer, why are they wanting to talk now?” You were questioning but not closed off. You knew joining a team mid-season would be hard but not impossible.

“Well… it’s Barca. They’ve but in an offer for you.” You were in complete shock. Barca wanted you. You were going to play for Barcelona. That’s all you’ve ever wanted. You screamed. It was the only thing you could think of. “I’ll take that as a yes, then?” Paul laughed. He knew Barca was the dream. He’d already written up the acceptance email.

“Oh my god! Of course it’s a bloody yes. I’m gonna play for Barcelona” You shouted.

“They want you to sign on the first day of the January signing window. It’ll be announced just after El Clásico. Is that ok with you? It gives you a couple of months to get everything sorted. And since United haven’t played in the Champions League, you aren’t cup tied or anything.”

You were floating on a cloud of happiness when the door clicked open. Ona was back from having a ‘Spanish Day’ with all the Spaniards living in Manchester. She had barely made it into the living room when you jumped her. Lips trailing everywhere you could reach. She laughed that gorgeous sound as you shoved her gently to the bedroom, her coat slipping off as you went.

You lay with your head against the pillows, hair fanned out to the side. You were sweaty and out of breath in the best way. Ona collapsed down next to you, her arms quickly wrapping around your waist.

“I had a phone call today.” You said nonchalantly. “From Paul,” you added as you tucked the duvet around the both of you. “There’s been an offer for me in the January window”. She looked at you expectantly. “Oni, Voy a jugar para el Barcelona” you breathed out. She stiffened in your arms.

“Qué quieres decir, amor?” She choked out after a few moments of silence, sitting up and moving away from you. You knew she wanted to go back to Spain, go back to Barca … but this was not the reaction you were expecting.

“Paul phoned. They’ve put in an offer for me for the January window. I’m signing on the 1st with it being announced after El Clásico.” You stated the facts. The simple outline of the facts that made you feel so, so happy.

“Are we not going to talk about this? You can’t leave in the middle of the season. United need you. We need you…. I need you, amor” She started off loud, angry, and upset, but by the end of the sentence it was barely a whisper. You had never seen Ona so… you could describe the look on her face. The way her body seemed slumped over in sadness.

“Hey… hey. No, don’t think like that. I’m here until the break. We’ve got a month or so. Everything will be fine, Oni. You are well aware that Barcelona is only a few hours on a plane. Everything will be fine!” She seemed to accept your comforting words.

But everything wasn’t fine.

There was a shift in the relationship arrangement whatever this was. Fewer jumpers were in your wardrobe. When she ran out of body wash, she didn’t replace it with a new bottle. Less of her snacks were added to your weekly shopping list. You still drove her to training but her music no longer blasted out of the speakers. She still cooked for you but there were never leftovers for the next day. She still slept in your bed, but she held onto your arm rather than curling up on top of you.

And then it was the Christmas break. Your last day at United. You weren’t sad to be leaving the club. But you were sad to be leaving the people. Of course, you knew you would see some of them during the international windows and whenever you came home but it wasn’t the same. Once again, the alcohol in your system led you to be on top of Ona. The first time you had done anything since you told her about your move. Something felt different this time. She was leaving to go back to Spain the following morning and you wouldn’t see her again before you left.

You woke up with a slight headache, but that wasn’t what pulled you from your sleep. Catalan came drifting across the flat. Ona was awake, and by the temperature of the bed, she had been for a while.

“Hey. Qué ocurre? Qué pasó?” She was pacing the living room, muttering away to herself. “Oni? Hey, estás bien?” She wasn’t paying any attention to you. “Ona”. Your hands rested on her shoulders, halting her scattered movements.

“Don’t touch me,” she snapped. You jumped at the harshness in her tone.

“What’s wrong, Oni?” You asked again.

“I can’t do this.” She answered back. Her tone just as sharp. You knew what she was implying but you hoped you were wrong.

“This being…?” You trailed off.

“Us.” She stated simply. You waited a heartbeat, hoping she would realise you would do anything for her.

“It’s not like there was really an ‘us’ to begin with!” She spat at you. You felt your heart begin to splitter into a thousand pieces. Ona was looking for an argument. She was terrified you’d leave her behind at Manchester without a second look. Ona was hopelessly in love with you. She had been for some time. It wasn’t fast or scary. It was subtle and peaceful. One day she had woken up next to you and she knew it was you. It would always be you. But she didn’t know if she was yours. You were never a tactile person but with Ona, you always had some form of body contact. She thought it little of it. She was Spanish after all, touching your friends was fairly normal – she didn’t realise that you didn’t hug Lessi or Tooney unless they forced themselves at you. She didn’t consider how you were quick to shake off Mary or Maya’s arms. To you, and to everyone else but Ona, it was really obvious that she was yours and you were hers. You just hadn’t had the ‘what are we’ conversation yet. She was also jealous. Barca wanted you. Her home wanted you. Not her. Never mind that her agents had mentioned that Barca wanted her in the summer when she was out of contract. Barca offered money for you. Barca wanted you so badly that they offered a record-breaking fee in the middle of a season. She was scared, angry and jealous. How was she to know that you rarely argued back with someone? How was she to know that your easy-going nature was a result of growing up in a household where shouting was the norm? How was she to know that your mild-mannered temperament was due to your habit of placating your family to stop the noise? You had never told her that particular part of your childhood.

So, she hit you where she knew it would hurt the most, hoping to get a reaction out of you. “Eres sólo un polvo rápido. Fácil. Nada mas para mi. Something to pass the time. I don’t even know why Barca want you, honestly. No eres lo suficientemente buena.” She waited for a reply, but none came. She waited for you to lash out at her. Snap. Do something to make this … breakup? … easier. She wanted to be able to hate you in the same way she was trying to make you hate her. She did the second most painful thing she could think of. She spun on her heels and marched out the door.

You knew she was lying… you think. You hoped she was lying. You knew Ona could get mean when she was upset or scared. You had witnessed it after a particularly bad game – her harshness, her biting words. But she had said those words with such conviction, and you couldn’t think of a reason as to why she would be scared or upset. It had been a wonderful night. Laughter, soft touches exactly where you needed them, and love. You could feel the love between the two of you. Every lingering touch, every passionate kiss, ever whispered word. Everything was done with love, for the pure enjoyment of the other. Everything was perfect.

You're just a quick fuck. Easy. Nothing more to me. Was that all you were to her? Did the late nights mean nothing to her? Did the secrets you whispered into her hair mean anything? Were all the promises she made you lies? Was everything she ever said to you just so she could get her regular fix? Did she really think you weren’t good enough for Barcelona? She knew her opinion of you and your football meant a lot to you. Was every reassurance that you were good enough for the starting XI mean nothing? Was every calming word when you were waiting for Sarina’s call false? Did she genuinely think that you weren’t good enough?

You were in a daze all throughout Christmas. Seeing you family was fun, but you couldn’t shake the clouds in your mind. When you met with the some of the Lionesses in Manchester in between Christmas and New Year, everyone could tell something was wrong. You were normally on the quieter side, preferring to listen rather than speak. But you didn’t really do either. You were just there; not contributing to conversations or laughing along like you usually would. Something was wrong but no one knew what. And then you were on a plane, staring out the window as you watched Spain get closer and closer. You had never been to Spain outside of camps and tournaments. Ona had promised to take you there, to show you Barcelona, to show you her home. But you had to make it your home without her by your side.

And now you were about to play Ona in a World Cup Final.

Lucy knew something was eating at you in the days leading up to the final. She had phoned Leah to come to the hotel to cheer the whole team up and boost morale. It had worked for the other girls but not you. Kiera phoned Alexia as well. But the comforting words had washed straight over you. Everyone thought that it was because you were facing the Barca girls. No one in Barcelona knew of your history with Ona beyond that of teammates at United. If she was ever in town for a quick break, you always, miraculously, had other plans you couldn’t get out of. They didn’t know you lied and hid yourself away in your flat – moving your car a few streets along and leaving your phone off so the location couldn’t be tracked. You’d even gone so far as to phone up Hayley Raso in Madrid to ask if you could come visit her when you found out Ona would be at a team bonding event due to her free schedule coinciding with game-less weekend for Barca. Hayley was a little confused, but you were close enough friends from your time at Manchester that she didn’t question it.

Ona’s words had stayed with you. Every time you failed gave the ball away, passed a too-wide cross, or missed a shot on goal, her words echoed in your mind. You’re not good enough. The venom lacing her tone permeated your brain. You pushed yourself hard then ever before. You went for runs before training to improve your stamina, stayed late to practice free kicks and penalties. You lifted heavier weights and broke your old PBs in the gym. You were eating correctly and always seemed cheery enough, so no one really questioned it. Slowly the muscles started to grow. You were always on the stockier side, the muscles you had slowly built up helping you with your defence. But now you were really built. Your muscles were obvious, even under looser fitting clothes. Not that you really wore loose clothes anymore. At first, it was because everyone on the team, everyone in Barcelona, looked good. Their styles were just rubbing off on you, you had justified to yourself. But eventually, the tops became tighter and shorter. The trousers became low rise, and the hemlines became higher. The Barca Glow Up (and Lotte had coined it) was definitely real. You told yourself it was for you. The clothes you were wearing, the muscles you liked to show off, was because you were proud of them. Which you were. But you couldn’t lie to yourself for long. The Barca media frequently posted game day fits. You knew Ona followed Barca. You knew you would appear on her timeline. Yes, you were a little more tired than you used to be. But that was fine. You didn’t tell anyone the words that rattled around in your head when you were alone. You were fine. Everything was fine. You were playing the best football of your life at Barca. You were a key part of their defence, making your way into the Starting XI quickly and constantly proving your worth in every game.

You were fine. Ok, you hadn’t had sex, or even looked at another girl, since Ona arriving in Spain. Ok, you had to have some form of noise constantly in the background because every time there was silence your thoughts drifted back to Manchester. Ok, you couldn’t be around Ingrid and Mapi or anyone else in a relationship for too long otherwise you might start crying. Ok, you were still very much broken hearted. But you were fine. You weren’t necessarily good, but you were fine

The morning of the final, you were quiet. But everyone was, even Tooney. The buzz of anticipation. The air of expectation. Everyone was doing their own pre-match routine. You had followed yours to the letter. A gentle walk alone this morning followed by breakfast. A full bottle of water on the coach to the stadium. Pitch inspection with Less and Tooney. Warm up with Lucy and Millie. Hair slicked into a bun. A spray of perfume and into the tunnel to walk out.

She was standing just a head of you. Perfect. Breath-taking. Even with her game face on and her concentration as Irene spoke to her, you could see the usual kindness in her features. Those soft warm eyes that you had been lost in far too often. The freckles that littered her skin that you had traced and played dot-to-dot with as you laughed sleepless nights away. The braid that you used to tug on to get her attention before a match that always made her smile and break her focus. You knew you were still desperately in love with her. You shook your head. You couldn’t let her get to you. Not now. Your walls went back up as you pushed all thoughts from her mind. She wasn’t your Oni – even though you knew in your heart she would always be that to you –, she was the object that stood in your way of a World Cup. As Jess and Alex pulled your attention away from the Spanish players, you missed her looking at you.

She knew you had more muscle than before but seeing you in the flesh was something else. Your eyes that have the ability to truly look at a person, looked a little more tired than she was used to. The genuine smiled that was a defining feature for you was replaced with a hard line and a smirk every now and again. She thinks you have had a haircut since being in Barca – your bun wasn’t as big as it used to be in Manchester. She wanted nothing more than to trace her fingers gently over the new scar just above your eyebrow. She knew exactly how you got it. She watched every game of yours, live if she could – on repeat if she couldn’t. You had collided with a player during Chelsea Champions League match. She had been so terrified she almost picked up the phone to call you several times. She did play a little more brutally the next time she faced Chelsea. She had been carded after she left a particularly nasty tackle on the girl that had hurt you. She didn’t know that you also watched all of her games. She didn’t know that you also wanted to phone her after that match but was so scared of her rejection. But right now, you weren’t her Amor – even though you would always be that to her –, you were the object that stood in her way of a World Cup.

Part 2 will probably be out fairly quickly as a lot of it is already written but yeh

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs #woso soccer #barca femeni x reader #barca femeni #fc barcelona #manchester united #man utd #man utd women

[thef1diary]

Hatred | C. Sainz

Summary: You and Carlos are teammates but cannot stand each other. But things take a turn when a championship is costed and you two finally sort out your differences.

Warnings: 18+, bratty reader, enemies to enemies with benefits, choking, coarse language, hate sex, spanking, unprotected sex, no use of y/n

Word Count: 3k

Pairing: carlos x fem!reader

"Both Ferrari drivers are racing each other, can you believe it" the race commentator stated in disbelief. Your best friend was watching the race, watching you race wheel to wheel with your teammate. At first she wanted you to win, but now with the way things were looking, she just hoped that you safely finished the race.

You were fighting for the World Driver's Championship with no other than Max Verstappen. You, a female driver in a Ferrari, are so close tasting the victory of a championship. It was the second last race of the season, and you needed to finish second with the fastest lap to still be in the championship fight.

At the moment, you were third, behind your teammate and Max. Five laps to go.

Truth is, you and Carlos weren't very friendly this season. It was your second year and due to your phenomenal results in a car that shouldn't give constant P5 and P6 like it did, the Ferrari team principal was quite interested in your talent.

Despite the PR teams trying to get you and Carlos to film videos for challenges like he did with Charles, it never worked. On his end. You tried to be very friendly and since you were the only female driver on the grid, you wanted your teammates support. You didn't expect him to hate you from the moment he met you.

So when he listened to the team orders to let you pass through, you thought that he'd finally play the good sportsmanship card. But what you didn't expect was that after passing him, he was still on your tail using the drag reduction system to try and pass you again. Instead of complaining on the radio, you figured you would race him and show him who the better one of the two drivers truly is.

Even though you smiled and laughed with other drivers, Carlos was one you could not even have a normal conversation with without feeling the need to rip your hair out. So, racing with him when you had an almost killer instinct was much needed.

If he wasn't playing friendly, you weren't either. And to be honest, you were glad that he was putting up a fight, at least you'll be able to prove your worth instead being told that you only had a chance of winning because of your teammate.

Turning into a tight, high-speed corner, you took the inside line, braking late and hoping to turn out in the front. The seconds went by really slow when you heard the impact before you felt it. His Ferrari had hit the rear end of yours, causing debris to fall from your car and a puncture which made your car spin out of control. You held your breath and tried to control the car as best as you could until the car came to a stop which was when it crashed into the barriers.

Some parts of the barrier had landed on top of the front of your car, making it harder to get out. You immediately turned off the car but stayed for a few moments. Trying to wrap your head around the events that happened.

Not even one minute ago, you were fighting for the championship and now, you were out of it.

You hit your hand on the steering wheel multiple times before hearing the voice of your race engineer asking you if you were okay. You responded "fine" in a monotone voice which sounded completely different than your usual tone.

You were told to step out of the car just in case there was a leak which was undetermined at the moment. You sighed, taking off the steering wheel and climbing out of the car. After getting out, you noticed that your teammate's car was no where to be seen which only meant one thing, his car wasn't as damaged as yours which meant he could still race.

One of the marshals led you away from the track and car so you could safely begin your journey to walk to the pits which wasn't too far. You could feel the stares of the fans as you were walking by but didn't have the strength to wave to them. You also felt two cameramen following you. You knew one was for the live broadcast of the race but the other was Netflix.

You hung your head low, not even wanting to take off your helmet yet but you were fuming from anger. You didn't want people to see that.

By the time you got back to the pits, the race was over which was expected as there were only a few laps left. You looked at the board and saw Max was still first, as expected. His teammate was second now because he moved up two spots after the crash. Lewis came in third. Carlos had fell further down the grid, a few places out of the points. The podium celebrations were about to happen soon but you were far from being in a celebratory mood.

Once you got to the garage, you had to weigh yourself with your helmet in hand then you saw your teammate talking to the team principal. You felt your anger take over you and you stalked towards him, pointing a finger right in his face. "You. You're an asshole, an idiot, what did I ever do to you! What did you get out of this huh? A championship?" You scoffed, placing both of your palms on his shoulders and pushing him slightly.

"Fuck off!" He responded which only added fuel to the fire. Instead of accepting his mistake, he chose to tell you off. "don't you dare" you felt someone holding you back and your team principal decided to interfere by saying "it was just a mistake, cool off. Away from each other"

Unbelievable. He would always point out your mistakes even if they were very small.

"Just a mistake? It cost me the fucking championship!" You yelled which silenced everyone in the garage. You slowly looked around and no one dared to make eye contact with you at the moment. Not even Carlos.

Your PR manager placed a hand on your shoulder to lead you towards your drivers room but you brushed it off and left the garage.

Not even ten minutes later, your PR manager stopped by to inform you about the post race interviews which were necessary to attend. You didn't change out of your race suit, just tied the sleeves together on your waist. On the way, she told you about the things you shouldn't answer and to "play nice".

You were hit with so many questions during the interviews and at the moment, you were probably even more popular than Max who won the race. Not in a good way though.

"How do you feel losing a championship because of your teammate?", "do you think the situation could be sorted out differently?", "we heard the team orders given to Carlos, do you think he is a good teammate?", "is this your last year with Ferrari?", "how many years does your contract last?", "do you think you'd be treated differently by both your team and teammate if you weren't a woman?"

All those questions made your head spin but you tried to answer them as best as you could. You were exhausted both physically and mentally. Thinking back to the moments you had to compromise to get better results later, the team orders you had to follow, and the strategies you thought would be better but no one listened. One questioned loomed in your mind "is this your last year with Ferrari?" Since this was your first year with Ferrari, you had initially signed a three year long contract which meant you had two more years to go.

You met up with your friend as she was waiting for you in your drivers room. As soon as you saw her, you broke down into tears and embraced her. You didn't have to tell her what happened in the garage since she witnessed it. She wiped your tears, and made a plan to drown yourselves in alcohol and snacks in your hotel room.

You parted ways for now but she will be joining you later tonight. As soon as you got to your hotel room, you immediately took a shower to freshen up. You checked your phone which was bombarded with many texts from your family and friends who watched the race live. You also received some messages from fans, some hateful, some supporting you. As usual.

You also received messages from Lewis, Daniel, and Sebastian. The three drivers who have made it their mission to ensure you're comfortable in the male dominated sport.

You heard a knock on the door and you expected it to be your best friend, but when you opened it, it was your teammate. "I'm really not in the mood to talk to you"

"Then just listen?" He raised his eyebrows in expectation. You opened the door further and let him in. What was the worst that could happen? Another fight? This time you could punch him in the face if he said something stupid and no one can stop you.

"I'm sorry" Carlos started and you nodded, urging him on. "I know you were fighting for the championship and I ruined that"

"Yes, you did" you responded. "Is that all you're saying?" he asked which confused you. "What do you want me to say?"

"Oh I don't know, maybe accept my apology?" He stated in an oblivious tone. And there it was, Carlos could not be nice for a single conversation.

"There's no point. You'll do something like this again and we'll be in this situation again"

"Technically you could prevent it"

"Me? What about you? See this is why we're never getting along" you pointed at him.

Carlos stepped closer to you and held your chin between his thumb and first finger. "You're such a brat"

You scoffed and rolled your eyes "and what are you gonna do about it?"

"I'm gonna fuck that attitude out of you" he stated before placing his lips on yours, harshly.

You did not expect that but you weren't complaining either. Reciprocating the kiss with the same intensity, you wrapped your arms around his neck, one hand playing and pulling on his hair. He groaned in your mouth, wanting to regain control which made him pick you up effortlessly.

He had changed out of his race suit, wearing just a tee shirt and sweatpants. Dropping you on the bed once you two ran out of breath, he looked at you with a specific look in his eyes. It wasn't love, no, far from it. It was hate. You held yourself up by your elbows, spreading your legs a bit because you expected him to join you.

"Strip for me" he commanded. You stayed still, trying to process his words but he was rather impatient. "Did you not hear me? I said strip. Now" he took advantage of your spread legs and slapped the inside of your thigh.

That movement made you jerk and you started to take off your clothes. First your pants, then your shirt. He was quite surprised to see that you weren't wearing anything under your shirt. You had just taken a shower and were planning on chilling in your room anyways, there was no point of a bra.

You pointed at him and urged him to come closer which he listened to. He slid his body in between your spread legs and started kissing your neck. Kiss wouldn't be the right word, Carlos was sucking on it til marks were made. He wasn't being nice. And you were loving every bit of it.

You bit your lip to suppress the moans he was trying to get out of you. Playing with the hem of his shirt, you pulled it over his head. Your hands roamed around his tanned chest and back. You tried to flip your position, but he held you underneath him. "Brats don't get what they want" he muttered in your ear before his hand roamed near your panties.

His fingers played with the waistband, pulling it out and letting it snap on your waist making you groan due to the pleasurable pain. His fingers then went down to slide over your covered clit, rubbing it at the same time as he took your nipple in your mouth.

You didn't know where to focus since you could feel the pleasure everywhere. His teeth grazed your nipple making you arch your back then he sucked on it hard. You knew you were very wet by now, but he also knew since his fingers were slick as they played with your pussy over your panties.

"Carlos" you moaned his name. "What do you want?" He asked once he left your breast alone, after scattering marks on it. "You"

"You have me" he chuckled once he saw you trying to focus on reaching your edge with the way he was barely touching you. "I need more. Please touch me"

His fingers moved your panties to the side and slowly spread your fold which were embarrassingly slick. "Do our fights make you wet? Is that why you like arguing with me?" He asked as he lightly hit your pussy with his palm, making you jerk in response. "Tell me" his other hand held your jaw, making direct eye contact with you. He slid his fingers inside you, two of them. Watching as your mouth opened in a silent moan.

You shook your head, answering his question. He didn't like that. "No, so you don't look for any dumb reason to fight with me? Just to get yourself off? You've touched yourself thinking about me right?"

You were about to speak up but he interrupted "don't lie. I've heard you" you didn't have a response to that. Because it was true.

"Are you going to keep talking or do something Sainz?" You countered.

He clenched his jaw and pulled his fingers out of you. "On your hands and knees" he instructed. You smiled, finally getting a rise out of him. You turned over, looking back at him with a smirk that he was so eager to wipe off your face.

He took off his sweatpants and boxers, and you almost drooled at the sight of him stroking his cock. He leaned on the bed and lined himself up, sliding his cock in-between your folds. You groaned and muttered his name, trying to get him to do something. "So desperate for my cock" he brought his palm down on your ass harshly which made you move forward. You nodded desperately "yes" you whined.

He slowly pushed his cock in you, hearing your sweet moans. "Fuck. You feel so good"

You started moving your hips according to his slow but harsh thrusts. He placed open-mouthed kisses down your back, occasionally biting you.

He trailed his hand up your body and wrapped it around your neck from the front. Carlos felt you tighten around his cock and from the increasing amount of moans you released, he figured that your liked being choked. He was already planning on teasing you with this information.

His other hand played with your clit, rubbing it in small but agressive circles that made you squirm in his grasp. You chanted his name like a prayer, not even realizing how loud you were because the feeling of pleasure consumed you.

You could feel yourself on edge but you just needed something more. You begged him for more and he listened. His thrusts became faster but also sloppier, indicating that he was close to his orgasm as well. The hand that was choking you, came down to slap your ass again which you didn't expect at all. Since he wasn't holding you up anymore, you pressed your face against the mattress. Bunching the sheets up in your palm, you went over the edge.

Carlos didn't stop as he was chasing his own release but it also built towards your second orgasm. He quickly pulled out and turned you over to face him. Entering you again, he pressed his lips against you to swallow both yours and his moans.

One of your hands were up in his hair, pulling at the strands while the other was trailing down his back. His hand was still at your clit, rubbing circles on it. You reached your second orgasm as soon as you felt his release.

He was holding himself up by both his forearms and looking down at you. "I still hate you" you stated.

"I know. I hate you too" he replied and pressed a kiss against your lips.

Pulling out, he rolled over beside you. You laid there for a moment before he got up and you thought that he would get dressed and leave. Instead, he went to the bathroom and brought a cloth to clean you up. You didn't know why you felt that moment of sadness when you thought he'd leave. This was nothing but a hate fuck. Right?

He tossed the cloth somewhere else and laid down beside you again. This time, he pulled you into him and was dozing off. You were too, after all the sun had set many hours ago. You didn't check your phone to see the time either. Well, even if you wanted to, you couldn't because Carlos wrapped his arm around you, making you the little spoon.

You could hear him lightly snore and you thought that would irritate you, but instead it lulled you to sleep.

Teammates who hated each other, who still claim to hate each other, are sleeping peacefully in one bed. Naked.

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1blr #formula 1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz smut #cs55 #f1 smut #thef1diary fic

[soapybutt17]

How It Began

Summary: Mission has gone south and Price was left with no other choice but to regroup in his home. There, the rest of the team were met with a wife that they didn't know the Captain had, but a Lieutenant they were all too familiar with. Character: John Price x F!Wife!Reader. Simon "Ghost" Riley. Kyle "Gaz" Garrick. John "Soap" MacTavish. Word Count: 3,059 Chapter Warnings: Mention of Blood and Injuries. Allusion to Smut. Pregnancy. Ghost and Gaz being mentally scarred(?).

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Soap knew it was bad when even their Captain was agitated. A mission gone wrong and they were once again on the run in the process. With just the weapons and supplies they carried, they had nothing that could truly help them hide for the time being. Kate was still unable to find them a safe house for the time being.

So the Captain had decided that it was best to bring everyone to his own home for the time being instead. But even with such information, the man was on edge. The hour drive to the forest had been quiet, the sound of the car and the nature around them being the only thing killing the silence of the confined space.

Eventually, Soap had caught sight of a home, at the outskirts of the city, away from the prying eyes of the world. A true representation of their Captain. A two stories home, with a vast yard.

From the closing distance, Soap could hear the sound of dogs barking at their arrival. His eyes peered towards the Captain, slowly the weight on his shoulders were lifted and a ghost of a smile had appeared on his face. There was just something so majestic about finally being home—even if the circumstance was not on anyone’s favor.

“Keep yourselves in check, don’t want to scare the missus.” Price had pointed out once the car was put in a stop.

“Missus?” Soap couldn’t hide his own surprise.

Since when has the Captain been married? The man had shown no indication of it, not even in the rare instances of conversation of their lives away from the field. Soap has never caught sight of even a wedding ring on the man’s finger. But then again, it was best in this time and age to keep it a secret, to avoid any unnecessary action taken against his loved ones.

“I’ve got a life away from the field, MacTavish.” Price chuckled before finally slipping out of the car with the rest of them following behind.

The sound of the dogs now grow louder, further agitating Soap in the moment. He hated dogs, but he was nothing more than an unofficial and much unneeded guest in his Captain’s own home. Walking closer to the door with Ghost and the injured Gaz, the door was opened and the last person he would have ever see be present.

“Lieutenant?”

It was the fifth member of the team that just months ago was put on leave for reasons still unknown to him—until now. He was all too certain why you were now put on leave. The visible bump was evident enough at it was.

“What happened?” You were quick to take hold of Gaz as he continued to stagger from the bullet wound on his leg. Your eyes peered towards the Captain in question.

“Mission gone south, Kate can’t find us a safe house here, so I thought it was best to bring everyone here to regroup.” Price explained, immediately wrapping his arms around you and the pieces finally fit together.

Everything makes sense now.

“Come in, I know the mission was a nightmare. I’ll make you three some tea and something to eat.”

Pulling away from Price, you had went inside and they were once again surrounded with the silence.

“So you and the Lieutenant?” Soap inquired.

“We prefer to keep our relationship a secret. But circumstance made it impossible to keep it a secret anymore.” He sighed, escorting everyone inside.

~

“Hold still for me, okay?” Your heart was breaking, having to see Gaz in so much pain but it was for his own benefit. The sooner the bullet is removed and the wound is cleaned up, the sooner it is he could begin recovering.

“Yes, Ma’am.” Gaz tried to keep on a strong face, but his deathly grip on Soap’s legs made it more evident the excruciating pain that he was in.

With bated breath, you finally tended to Gaz’s wound, pulling out the bullet and stitching him right up. All the while, you could hear Gaz’s heavy breathing and Soap’s attempt at distracting him the best way he knew how—through humor.

“Good as new, Sergeant.” You beamed at him, patting him on his uninjured leg before standing up, wincing at the sudden numbness on your legs for sitting for too long.

“Careful.”

You smiled towards your husband as he made his way towards you and helped you upon your feet. You looked at him, cupping his cheeks in appreciation before your head turned right back to Gaz and Soap that were both staring at you. It seems your husband has yet to truly explain about your relationship.

“Tea?” You offered.

“Got it covered, Ma’am.” It was Ghost that muttered, placing the tray of tea on top of the coffee table that still had the surgical equipment and bloodied gauze you’ve used.

Without even asking, Ghost was quick to discard most of the trash and you looked right back to your husband, a proud look on his face at the masked man’s actions.

“We’re in our home, I think we could drop the formalities.” You pointed out to which earned a blush from all three men. Each and every single one of them looking at your husband for his approval on this.

“Happy wife, happy life.” He chuckled, kissing you on the temple before finally letting you go to check on Gaz’s wound.

For the next few hours, you had tried—and failed to be a good host to the three visitors in your home, but if it wasn’t your husband, it was Ghost or Soap interrupting you and doing whatever you had planned for you. It was growing frustrating, but you knew they meant well given your state.

“Are you three really sure you’d be fine sleeping here?”

You frowned at the setup that laid before you in the guest room, Gaz was laying on the bed all on his own because of his injuries while Ghost stayed on the foldable mattress you had laying around and Soap had decided to take position on the coach.

“This is more than enough for us, Ma’am.” Soap reassured with a grin, before a pillow was thrown right onto his face from Ghost.

“Let’s get you to bed.” Turning your husband was hot on your tail, a frown resting on his lips as he knew perfectly well that you should be sleeping at this hour by now.

“Good night, you three. Just give us a knock if you need anything.” You reminded them.

“I hope not.” Your husband muttered before guiding you back into your shared bedroom for the night.

~

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick had seen and heard so much atrocities in his life in the military. But in the chaos of it all, there were some silver lining he constantly looks into, one of which was the found family he had found in the task force. A father in the form of Captain John Price and a mother in the form of you, the warm and understanding Lieutenant, older brothers in the form of Ghost and Soap.

With said family, he should have expected the full experience out of it. One of which was hearing fornication between his parents in the other room. But it was still a scarring experience to hear it so close and so explicitly.

With the ache still lingering on his legs, he would rather see himself getting shot wherever it was possible instead of hearing the moans and grunts from the other room. Fucking bedroom had thin walls and he could fucking hear everything. From the Captain’s grunts, to your whimpers, and even more traumatizing was the sound of skin slapping. Vividly he was hearing his nightmare coming to life.

“Fucking hell.”

Gaz found himself jumping at the sound of Ghost’s voice, peering down on the floor, the masked Lieutenant was having the same predicament as him. The man shared him a look both of them turned towards the snoring Soap on the coach, unaware of the noise they were both hearing.

“We hear nothing and we will say nothing in the morning.” Ghost instructed.

“I hear nothing, I know nothing.” Gaz sighed laying back onto the bed, and tried his best to find sleep in the confinements of the room he was more than happy to rest in for the time being.

Slowly, the noise slowly died down and they were enveloped in the post-coitus silence of the other room. But the image somehow running through his head, what his father-figure and mother-figure were literally doing in the other room.

“Blood fucking hell.” Ghost muttered once again, sharing the same sentiment as him at the moment.

~

One of the things that John had enjoyed being home was waking up to you. The way the sunlight washed over your features, the glow and plumpness of your cheeks because of the pregnancy, and the way you held onto him like a koala. He missed it all and he would do anything and everything to be able to bottle this moment up with you.

As much as he loved watching you sleep, he loved it even more to see you awake, in his arms, loving him as much, if not, even more than he loved you.

He began with taking your scent in with his nose against the crook of your neck, before his hands found their way to the dips of your waist, the supple naked flesh that he loved to hold against him in the coldest of nights. His ears picked up your whimpers, last nights romp ended with your legs shaking and the satisfied smile on your lips as they peppered his bearded cheeks with your kiss.

“Five more minutes.” You whispered, voice raspy with sleep.

Before he could offer something more than just laying in bed, the sound of Soap’s boisterous laughter shattered the peace inside the bedroom before a sudden realization popped in both of your heads.

They heard. Both of you were certain. The shared horror in both of your faces was much evidence of your realization.

“Let’s get up, before they destroy the kitchen.” You muttered standing up in all your naked glory.

A smile rested on John’s face at the sight of you. The pregnancy did wonders into your body. The fullness of your body as you were growing another human being inside of you. The stretch marks that painted your skin that you were beginning to hate but John loved all the more because of what it had symbolized.

“Another time, Captain.” You teased him slipping into your undergarments, John’s sweatshirt and the only pair of shorts that could fit you in your growing body.

“It seems so.” He grunted finding himself standing up in all his naked glory, walking straight into you and pulling you in for a kiss, the first of many kisses he was certain he would give you for the day. “Good Morning, My Love.”

“Morning to you too, Morning Breathe.” You playfully teased pushing him away before making your way towards the bathroom to freshen up. “You handle the boys, I will commit a war crime if they mess the kitchen up after I cleaned it the other day.” You warned.

It was all the order John needed before he found himself putting on some clothes and making a beeline out of the bedroom to see the madness of the kitchen.

~

To Simon, he had always expected that something was going on between the Captain and the Lieutenant. Price had always been concerned for the team’s well being, but he could see past the avoidance that would occur between the both of you. The tension that was always palpable whenever you shared the same space. It was more than just two superiors interacting with each other, more than just a friendship that spanned longer than the creation of the Task Force. He knew sexual tension when he sees it.

So it wasn’t much of a surprise for him to know that you and the Captain had a relationship. It however, surprised him the progression of said relationship was more than he had expected—with a baby coming along the way. Now the resounding argument before your discharge was clear. You were forced back home for the sake of your baby and for Captain’s sanity.

“How’d you like your eggs, Lt?” Soap had inquired his attention solely on the egg he was frying.

“Scrambled.” He finds himself muttering.

He usually slept less than anyone else in the house right now, more than just his mental state, it was for the scarring that had occurred last night. Nothing fucks him up more than hearing his parent figure fucking in the middle of the night.

 He could not admit that it scarred him more than all the atrocities he had seen and done in his lifetime.

“Steady on the mess,”

Simon finds himself tensing at the sound of the Captain’s arrival. Turning to look at the man, the all too evident signs of a fucked man was seen in the man. A look was shared between Simon and Gaz, and he was all the more grateful for the mask he still wore, how it was easy to hide the blush that he was certain painted his cheeks at the memories of last night.

“Morning, Captain.” Gaz had greeted with the tint still on his cheeks.

The Captain nodded with a grunt before he made his way towards the cupboard to get his own tea started. Simon could see the darkening bruises all over his Captain’s neck and it made all the sounds of last night a reality.

“Heard anything from Laswell, Ghost?” Price had inquired, with his back still face them at the table.

“Told us to head back to the base as soon as possible.” Simon found himself responding, finally looking away from the man, his eyes find themselves resting on the array of pictures that hanged on the wall.

“We prepare to leave after lunch then.”

“Yes Sir.”

At the sound of the chair being pulled, Simon’s gaze returned back to the Captain that now sat in front of him and Gaz.

“I know we have a lot of things we need to discuss—about my relationship and how we had agreed to keep things private until now.”

“It is no one’s business but your own, Sir.” Simon find himself reassuring the man, the evident stress lingered on the older man’s face. He looked older than what he really was but it was a given with the weight that he shoulders during mission.

“But it should have been addressed as my wife is also part of our team.”

At the mention of you, you had arrived, sweetly greeting everyone with a glow in your face since the last time that Simon saw you. Battered and bruises during your last mission, with tears streaking your cheeks before you had left and not even said a proper good bye.

“How’s the leg, Gaz?” You had inquired, patting the man on the shoulders before you strode towards the cupboard to get yourself a cup. The tea that Price has made already waiting for you.

“Doing good, Ma’am.” Gaz responded, cheeks once again returning to a bright shade before them.

“Scrambled eggs for you,” Soap had finally placed a plate of semi-scrambled eggs in front of Simon which he had grunted a thanks to. “And a couple of sunnies for everyone else just like you like ‘em.” He added placing the handful of eggs in front of everyone as well as practically a handful of bacon to go along with it.

Simon had watched you walk towards the Captain, placing a kiss on his cheeks before sitting beside him on the table. The smile that rested on the Captain’s face and the stress of the previous conversation gone temporarily.

“Did John finally tell you about our relationship?” You had inquired already knowing what the conversation had been about.

“I was getting to that.” Price quipped with a chuckle.

For the next hour or so, the conversation was about catching with what you had been doing, all the while the married couple explained how and when it all started between the both of you. How you both had decided it was in everyone including each other’s best interest to keep the relationship and marriage a secret to avoid unwarranted doubts of favoritism amongst everyone. But neither Simon nor Soap or Gaz truly cared if you two were in a relationship or married, it never hindered in missions together and it never will upon getting to know you both even more.

Before long, breakfast and a lavish lunch has ended and it was finally time for them to head back to the base to regroup. All the while, Simon had watched you cling to the Captain, any chance you could, you held onto him for dear life. The unshed tears in your eyes had the Captain slowly crumbling in his resolve.

“Stay safe you four, and I hope you three will visit on a much better circumstance.” You had remained by the front door, unable to truly glimpse close up how they would leave all over again.

“Yes Ma’am.” All three of them had agreed without hesitation.

Simon had watched the Captain pulled you in for a hug and a much needed kiss that had all three of them turning away to give you both a private moment. Snickers and hoots however were thrown in by Soap and it left Simon slapping him on the back of his head to stop.

“Alright, let’s move out.” At the Captain’s booming voice, everyone had now headed back to the car and drove off.

Heaviness filled the car, it was good they had a moment of peace in the Captain and the Lieutenant’s home, but they still had a mission to deal with.

“So, you and the Lieutenant ever plan on adding sound proof walls to your bedroom before we visit again?” Soap inquired and all Ghost and Gaz could do was groan at the new found awkwardness that now filled the car and the sheer embarrassment in the face of the Captain that chose to ignore Soap’s words.

Soap and his fucking mouth.

#John Price Smut #John Price One Shots #John Price Oneshot #John Price Oneshots #John Price fluff #john price headcanon #John Price x reader #john price x female reader

[wileys-russo]

Could you write something for Alessia where reader is her sister and gets her first england call up. I feel like less would be such a good older sister, slightly protective and over bearing but also just making sure reader is fitting in and has no trouble.

the call up II a.russo x sister!reader

the call up II a.russo x sister!reader

you'd been sat with a few of your club team mates watching a movie together at beths house when you'd gotten the call, shock written all over your face as you glanced down and saw the contact name.

"go! answer it." beth whispered with an encouraging nod as you hurried to your feet and raced out of the living room, hyper aware of the eyes watching as you did so.

accepting sarina's call the dutch woman got straight to the point. you'd seen her in the crowd at a few of the home games you'd started in, and sure enough she advised she'd been impressed with what she'd seen, offering you a spot at the next camp with the senior team.

she was honest in the chances of you getting minutes in the game against scotland were slim, but the opportunity to train with the senior team and absorb and learn was there and waiting as you eagerly accepted, sarina advising she would see you at camp before ending the call.

your first call was to your parents who were over the moon, promising they'd keep it quiet until the squad for camp was officially announced, though within a few seconds your phone lit up with a flurry of notifications as the news was put into the family group chat making you roll your eyes with a fond smile.

you stood to return back to your team mates but your phone lit up with another call, your sisters name and contact photo she despised flashing across the screen making you snicker with amusement at the unflattering 0.5 angle of her with bed hair and a scowl in high definition.

"hi less." you greeted with a chuckle. "you still haven't changed my contact photo have you?" the blonde sighed knowingly as you laughed properly looking at it again.

"of course not, and i won't be anytime soon unless i take an uglier photo." you teased as she mocked you under your breath. "you're such a little shit. but anyway, why the hell did i have to find out about your call up from luca?" alessia scoffed accusingly and you didn't need to be on facetime to imagine the stern frown which would be plastered across her features.

"because no one in this family knows how to keep anything to themselves, you especially." you rolled your eyes, sending a smile and a thumbs up to beth who poked her head in to check on you, the older girl sending you a warm smile back and retreating to the living room.

"i should have been your first call, i'm your only sister and i'll be at camp too. your first call up to the senior squad is a huge deal!" alessia lectured before dropping tone and congratulating you, the two of you having imagined for years what it would be like if you ever made the senior team together.

you were disappointed not to make the world cup roster but having the extra time to focus on football with your club had benefited you immensely in other ways, and you just needed to consistently remind yourself that everything happened for a reason.

you'd started off your professional career with a short term contract at bristol city, and after a year of starting and a semi successful season you were offered a three year contract with manchester united which had always been your goal.

alessia had already known of the offer before you did of course, ella and mary having to practically hold her down to stop her calling to pressure you into accepting the moment she found out.

but none the less it was an offer too good to decline for any club, let alone your childhood dreams of one day playing for united coming true and to get the opportunity to play alongside and see alessia every day.

the two of you fought tooth and nail growing up as sisters did and always over the most ridiculous of things.

but regardless of that and the near five year age gap you were always close, your relationship only strengthening once alessia went away to college and you weren't living on top of one another anymore.

you'd only played a single season with united, most of it spent on the bench or as an impact sub, but you loved the girls and found yourself falling hard for manchesters charm.

which is why the loan had been quite the shock, no real warning given when the club accepted an offer from spurs on your behalf, both you and grace traded with the hopes of gaining proper game time and starting minutes under your belts.

alessia had kicked off the moment it went public, first at you for not telling her and then at everyone else who would listen to her frustrations which you knew mostly stemmed from a worry of how you would go moving to a different place and a different team all on your own.

only, you weren't alone. with grace by your side you adjusted easily into this new challenge in your life, you and the midfielder growing even closer than you were when you were at united, and now you both found no trouble calling each other a best friend, attached at the hip and practically inseparable.

"-i'll come and pick you up friday for dinner for mums birthday. i love you!" alessia confirmed, clearing pausing waiting for you to say it back. "don't you dare hang up and not say it back you little shit." your sister scoffed as you grinned, forever finding it all too easy to get under her skin.

"love you lessi, see you friday!" with that you hung up, hearing the girls in the other room start to argue over what to order for dinner as you took a moment to let it all sink in.

you'd finally done it.

~

"you've got your kits yeah? and the tracksuits, and the training ones, and your socks, and your cleats, and you need to be careful you're not wearing anything that isn't adidas branded if you're being filmed or there's pictures taken by the social media team-" your sister lectured over the phone as you rolled your eyes and flicked her to speaker.

"-then you'll get the schedule when you arrive but i'll show you where everything is anyway. if we're not roomed near each other i'll still come and find you every morning and we can have breakfast before training and i'll run you through the daily schedules-" you started to tune her out as you flicked through your closet, humming every now and then to appease her.

"-are you even listening to me?" you only hummed again, completely checked out of the conversation now as you wrestled to get your suitcase closed. "oh my god you've got me on speaker and you've left the room again like last time. OI!" you winced and zoned back in as she shouted loudly.

"no! i'm right here idiot. but i know you love the sound of your own voice so who was i to interrupt?" you chuckled, grunting as you sat on top of your case and finally got it closed.

“ha ha ha, very funny. what the hell are you doing anyway? why are you grunting and groaning are you working out right now?” your sister questioned. “no! im trying to close my case, which i now have!” you sighed victoriously zipping it up.

“you haven’t finished packing?” alessia shouted as you rolled your eyes. “less.” you warned, muting her momentarily as she ignored you and started to rant and rave about how you needed to step up and be an adult.

returning a few moments later you unmuted her, catching her mid story of something you really weren’t all that interested in.

“oh no less you’re breaking up I can’t hear you!” you spoke in a monotone, voice dripping with sarcasm as you scrunched a piece of paper and made glitchy noises with your mouth.

“seriously? you can’t even just say you don’t want to talk anymore? you have to make up some bullshit excuse and-“ her words fell short as you clicked the red end call button with a chuckle, tossing the ball of paper over your shoulder.

you watched the texts fly in from her, unhappy with your attitude and warning you needed to be mature on camp which you silenced with a roll of your eyes, interrupted by your security buzzer going.

“sorry don’t want any.” you grinned as grace’s head appeared in the security camera, the girl pulling a face and flipping you off as you buzzed her in. “cars here! im not comin up, you’re comin down. hurry!” the brunette warned as your eyes widened and you rushed about making sure you had everything.

you jolted in surprise as a knock sounded on your door, flinging it open and frowning when grace stood there with a grin. “aih ya dickhead the car isn’t here yet it’s not even ten, too easy!” your best friend laughed pushing past you as she dumped her own bags by the door.

“you are such a wind up.”

~

“you nervous?” you asked grace, tapping her knee to gain her attention as the car turned into st georges park and she pulled her headphones down around her neck.

“nah not really. you shouldn’t be either! we wouldn’t have been called up if they didn’t think we wasn’t ready, and your sister is here anyway to look after ya.” grace reminded with a smile, pushing your head with a wink as the two of you rough housed for a bit before the car parked up.

“cameras rollin. how’d i look then?” grace fluttered her eyelashes making you grin. “ugly as ever. come on hillary!” you slid out of the car before she could retaliate, groaning at the nickname.

you knew from the way your phone had been blowing up that your sister was already here, having arrived earlier this morning with lotte and beth.

so it wasn’t any real surprise when you’d hardly stepped a foot out of the car and she appeared, hovering at the top of the stairs with ella plastered to her side who sent you and grace a grin and a wave.

both of you grabbing your bags you flashed a smile and fist bumped the media staff who were filming entrances as you and grace ascended the stairs.

“ready for your first camp girls?” you and grace both echoed back a yes, grinning at the camera before someone wiggled their way in between you both and slung their arms over your shoulders.

"big sister gonna look out for you then?" the staff laughed as alessia beamed and squeezed both you and grace tightly. "well she's got big shoes to follow, we've been working on her backheel." alessia joked, the camera crew moving toward the next van which pulled up which was full of the city girls.

"less get off." you huffed, grace wiggling away and tackling ella in a hug, the taller of the two dragging them inside in a headlock as your sister only gripped you tighter.

"absolutely not, roomie." the older girl grinned smugly as your face fell. "oh you've gotta be kidding me!" you groaned throwing your head back in annoyance.

"she's messin with you, we don't share rooms anymore on camp." a new voice sounded behind you as you managed to throw off alessia's arm and charge toward them. "mazza!" you cheered happily, launching at her as she caught you with a grunt.

"baby russo!" the girl cheered in the same tone before dropping you back to your feet. "just my actual name is fine thank you." you shoved her playfully with a roll of your eyes. "not this camp or any camp after, that is your name now. or we could go with B.R for short?" mary teased tugging on your ears.

"i'm quite fond of her childhood nickname." alessia chimed in with a smirk as you sent her a murderous glare. "don't you dare, or i'll spill one of your secrets. and we both know that i have plenty of them to choose from!" you smirked back as her face fell.

"rat." alessia muttered, nodding for you to follow her as she grabbed your bags and headed for the elevator to show you to your room.

"we'll talk later. you spill some of those secrets and theres more where this came from kid." mary whispered, sliding a tenner into your pocket with a pat and a wink.

~

you were mid dream when you first heard it, the repeated thudding which seemed to leak into your subconscious as suddenly you realized you weren't dreaming anymore and someone was knocking furiously on your door.

raising your head from your pillow you blinked groggily and rubbed your eyes so hard you saw stars, stumbling out of bed and tripping over the corner of the duvet where your foot got stuck in bed.

hitting the ground with a thud and a grunt the knocking stopped for a moment and you paused, unsure if you'd imagined it.

"for god sakes hurry up!" nope, didn't imagine it.

"what?" you retorted grumpily, mornings your least favourite time of day as you rubbed your face and your sister barreled in past you without so much as a greeting.

"go away alessia its too early!" you groaned, shutting the door and trudging back toward your bed. "you haven't even hung anything up? for god sakes this is a hotel this isn't your bedroom at home you can't just fling shit around and leave your mess everywhere like a tornado!" your sister lectured with a click of her tongue, busying herself picking things up and putting them away.

"i've not even been here for twenty four hours yet less surely that stick up your ass is gonna sting something terrible by the end of the week?" you grumbled, sliding back into bed as your sister shot you a filthy look at her shoulder.

"hilarious. but you have to be professional here and set a good reputation for yourself, especially your first camp. that means up on time, early for breakfast, one of the first to the pitch, extra reps in the gym-" you tuned her out, quite the expert at it by now, eyes slipping closed again.

"urgh get off!" you moaned as a weight settled on top of you, wheezing slightly as alessia made herself comfortable sitting on your back. "you have...forty six seconds to get up yourself before i drag you out of this bed by your ankles and we both know i will!" your sister threatened seriously, checking her watch.

"you're so fucking annoying. this is worse than when we both lived at home, at least then you also used to hate mornings!" you exhaled deeply, star fishing out on the bed as she wriggled and purposefully bore more of her taller form into you.

"twenty nine, twenty eight, twenty seven..." the blonde counted down ignoring your statements. "can hardly get up myself with you on top of me can i bigfoot?" you snapped, alessia rolling off of you and squealing as your leg kicked out to push her off the bed.

"right! three, two, one." and with that she flung the covers off, grabbing your ankles and true to her word yanking you out of bed, your body hitting the carpeted floor with a thump as she loomed over you.

"get dressed. if theres no pancakes when we get to breakfast i will be holding you personally responsible and you will pay for it!" your older sister warned, grabbing your top in hand and hauling you up to your feet, shoving a pile of clothes into your hand and pushing you toward the bathroom.

"stop manhandling me hagrid!" you snapped as alessia chose to ignore you, making your bed up and getting herself comfortable on top of it, scrolling through her phone as you snatched yours from the nightstand.

"hurry up!" you were trying to brush your hair back into something more presentable, face still puffy from your half asleep state as her fist thumped loudly against the door.

with a roll of your eyes you gave up, flipping your head and tying your hair up into a messy bun. poking at the bags under your eyes with a sigh, the impatient knocking continuing as you quickly covered them up with a few dabs of concealer.

"i hope you break your hand." you spoke in a monotone as you flung the door open, barely having ten seconds to step outside before her hands grabbed the collar of your jumper and dragged you out of the room.

"let go less! i'm not four years old trying to run away in a shopping centre for god sakes i don't need you to hold my hand i am an adult." you huffed, ripping your hand away from hers and storming off ahead to the elevator as alessia hung back for a second to wait for ella to catch up.

"might need this though? and everyone says you're the genius in the family." alessia held up your key card which was the only thing that allowed you to enter and exit the elevator, holding it out of your reach.

"say sorry for being so grumpy." alessia demanded with a smug smile as you tried to stretch for the card without luck, your sister always having had a head or two of height on you with her ridiculously long limbs.

"no! didn't you make a big song and dance about not being late for breakfast? because the only one making us late is you!" the older girl groaned as you punched her half heartedly in the stomach, snatching the key as she doubled over.

"mary she's tryna kill me!" you hid behind the taller keeper using her body as a shield as she joined you with grace in tow, alessia sending you daggers from across the elevator as mary chuckled but remained a nice protective barrier between the two of you anyway.

"alessia!" you protested as your sister snatched your plate, dumping what you'd already chosen and picking your food for you, pushing you away every few seconds with her spare hand as you tried to intervene.

"why are you such a mum? i can pick my own food!" you demanded which was dismissed with a flick of her hand, too busy chattering away to ella to pay you and your whinging any attention.

"you have to fuel your body properly and that means a balanced breakfast." the blonde lectured, holding your plate hostage in her hands as she walked off.

with your food held captive you were forced you to follow her as you sent grace a pleading look who only smirked and shook her head, sat at a different table than the one your sister sat down at.

"baby russo! where have you been hiding then? i missed you." lucy pulled you into a hug as you took your seat beside her and across from alessia who finally slid your plate over to you. "hiding from her!" you grumbled, stabbing your eggs and shooting alessia a glare who smiled and wiggled her fingers at you in a sarcastic wave.

you sighed and glanced down at your plate which granted was loaded, but not with everything you'd have put on it thanks to your sisters apparent new nutritionist qualifications.

your face lit up as mary joined the table, subtly dumping two hashbrowns and an extra piece of bacon onto your plate with a wink as she sat on your other side squishing you between her and lucy as the three of you fell into conversation.

"oi baby russo, sarina wants to see ya." you'd finished eating as millie suddenly appeared, nodding for you to follow her as your face paled a little, head swirling with a hundred worries of why she might want to see you, all of them negative.

"i can take her mills." your sister stepped in with a reassuring smile as millie headed off to grab breakfast. "come on." she stood with a flick of her head as mary squeezed your shoulder and stacked your empty plate on top of hers.

following after your sister you didn't speak a single word, holding your breath until you stepped out of the cafeteria and the noise and chatter of the team ceased, exhaling shakily.

"come here." your sister spoke softly and opened her arms as you settled into them, your own wrapping around her torso as she embraced you, chin resting on the top of your head.

"i know all you can think of is bad reasons why she wants to see you, but if you freak out and focus on all of the what ifs then you're going to ruin this opportunity for yourself before we even start." alessia murmured, rubbing your back comfortingly.

"she probably just wants to check how you're settling in and go through the motions with you. so stop overthinking because i can hear your tiny little brain going into a meltdown." she teased lightly as you cracked a smile.

she let you go but her arm slipped over your shoulder drawing you into her side as she walked you down to the office, pausing a couple doors down and turning you to face her.

"i love you, sarina loves you, the girls loves you. this is your moment, grab it with two hands and make the most of it yeah? show them why you got called up and why you've earned a place on this team." her hands settled on your shoulders as if trying to charge you up with confidence as you nodded.

she might be overbearing, overprotective and over dramatic at the best of times. but alessia would always be your big sister and secretly, you'd never tell her this, without her you wouldn't be half the human let alone the footballer you were, and it flooded you with relief to take the plunge into this next step of your career with her by your side.

again you didn't dare to tell her that for fear of the relentless teasing that would follow. but you didn't need to anyway, she already knew, because sisters always know.

#woso #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso community #alessia russo x reader #engwnt #woso blurbs #woso imagine #alessia russo

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Hearts [S. R.]

Young!Spencer Reid x fem!reader

word count: 2.6k

and by public demand, part 2

summary: an intern pesters Spencer to get his attention and you help him get rid of it a bit, benefiting in the process.

A/N: here we go! started watching criminal minds last week and i'm halfway through the first season so expect a lot of content as I progress with the series. Spencer Reid from season one is the cutest thing I ever looked at

If you want to be added to the taglist just tell me, and if you have ideas, send them!

You'd think FBI offices would be quiet at night, but the truth is, with so many agents and interns reporting to do, the night seemed to be the busiest time.

After spending three months there you had almost obtained your own desk and knew most of the people, especially the BAU team whom you had been assigned to support for your internship. Since you began your university studies, you had wanted to work in that FBI unit and when the opportunity presented itself you were extremely excited, but now that it was a reality, you could realize that the workload was unimaginable and heavier than you expected. Still, with any luck, proper schooling, and practice you could be aiming for a permanent position in maybe two or three years. For now, being there as an intern was more than enough.

You were so engrossed in reading your computer screen that you didn't hear when the office door opened and it wasn't until a figure sat down next to you that you realized who it was.

You and Spencer Reid met many years ago, when you were both in middle school, in Las Vegas, and from that moment on you could appreciate what a prodigy he was. He was a very serious, quiet, and shy boy, but for some reason you always enjoyed his company and, judging by the fact that he never left you, you thought he did too. On some occasions you exchanged books that he returned to you in two days and you kept for a few weeks, you talked during some school breaks, you asked him for help with homework, and on more than one occasion you went so far as to defend him verbally from those silly children who bothered him; in general, you had something close to a friendship. You never thought that after so long, and so far from Las Vegas, you would see him again, much less in the condition you were in right now.

"Hey," you greeted him kindly, showing him a tired smile "What are you doing here?"

"I was finishing an analysis of yesterday's case," he replied. The team had had to profile another pyromaniac and for just a bit they had managed to catch him, which had left them somewhat tense "And you?"

"A report" you answered simply. You had the hypothesis that those kinds of activities ended up in the hands of the interns because they were extremely tedious and they wanted to get rid of it.

Reid wasn't much of a talker if the occasion didn't call for it and you knew it, so it wasn't too strange that he would only sit near you to watch you work, although there was something different about him tonight that alarmed you.

"You think I'm dumb?" he asked suddenly, forcing you to look up at him.

"You? Are you asking me if I think Doctor Reid is dumb? you asked, emphasizing his title, but he gently shook his head.

"Not in that sense, but like... weird or something."

“We all are a little bit. And that's not so bad” you said sincerely. You knew that on some occasions Spencer would ask questions and all you had to do was wait a bit for him to tell you what the doubt was about.

“And do you think…?” he started to say, a little unsure "Do you think I don't have a girlfriend because I'm that weird?"

"Who told you that?" you exclaimed more directly. You imagined that this concern could only arise from someone having suggested it, as had already happened on other occasions, and it still touched you a little that he had the confidence to assist you for that kind of thing.

"No, no one in particular"

"You know, I think you don't care about having or not having a girlfriend" you ventured to say "Was it Morgan?"

“No, not him,” he hastened to say, thinking a little about his next words, “Uhm, that girl from the department next door…”

"Victoria," you cut him off, rolling your eyes in anticipation and feeling the heat already rising up your cheeks. She was a typical mean girl; long black hair, tall, always wearing expensive dresses, high heels, and fake smiles. You'd met this girl during internships and it took you a couple of weeks to make you feel uncomfortable around her, but you finished hating her when you realized how intent she seemed to be on embarrassing Spencer every chance she got. The fact that her father was a department head made it a bit difficult to deal with any situation. "Why do you care what she says?"

“She is… persistent”

"You know she only does it because she wants to get your attention, right?" you explained, a little fed up with the situation and how he was always affected by what others said about him.

It was clear that from the beginning she had her eye on the young man, and on those days, she would walk around the office and try to start a conversation with Spencer, which he never carried out. When she noticed that her attempts were useless, she began to make hurtful comments that became recurring as the months went by, since it was the only time when she could receive any kind of attention from the brown-haired man. Spencer frowned, quite confused by the situation when you told him that, since apparently he hadn't made the same account of the facts as you.

"What are you talking about?"

"She likes you" you insisted, as if it were something obvious, although it didn't seem so to him. You could almost see how the gears in his brain were struggling to find a degree of coherence between the events that he had been ignoring for a long time.

"Then why does she say such horrible things to me?"

“It's because…” you mumbled, closing the lid of your computer and looking for a way to explain to the boy. It was amazing how he was the most intelligent person you knew and at the same time he would come to you to ask such banal things like that "she is a stupid girl who has had everything in life and since she isn't capable of having an intelligent conversation with you, she thinks that being mean is going to get your attention. It's like those kids who pulled your hair in elementary school," you muttered, trying to present an analogy, but he didn't react in any way “She probably only told you that because she wanted to know if you have a girlfriend, not because she really believed it.”

Spencer took a moment to absorb that, wondering how that made sense, since for him the fact that you liked a person implied being kind and attentive, not behaving as Victoria did with him. But you had read the signs from the beginning and that was probably another reason for your dislike for your internship partner, who you thought was unworthy of being attracted to someone as cute as him. Although during high school he hadn't been the most sought after by girls, now he was quite handsome and that shy and polite attitude made him even more attractive, at least for you. Besides the fact that, of course, it was a genius who you were talking to.

"And why didn't she just ask?" he genuinely murmured and you couldn't help but giggle.

"I don't know, when we like a person, we do stupid things"

"Do you really think she likes me?"

"Of course, what reason would there be for her not to?" you mumbled and he just looked away, as he did most of the time, while he shrugged, which made you think that maybe this conversation was more serious than you imagined "Do you like her?"

"No! Definitely not” he said right away, as if he was offended “It just seems strange to me that you say that”

"Say what?"

"That someone likes me"

"Oh, please," you breathed, completely incredulous. "You're charming, Reid, I don't think she’s the only one who likes you”

"Do you think I'm charming?" he said, slightly skeptical. You loved his reaction to any compliment he received. 

"Sometimes" you lied. Actually, you thought he was charming all the time "Besides you're an FBI profiler, don't you detect that kind of thing in girls?"

"It's harder to analyze women than criminals," he argued, making you chuckle slightly.

Suddenly the report you had to make was forgotten and you wished you wanted to spend more time with him, although you didn't know if he would be willing to do the same. It was one thing to be together at work and another very different thing was that he wanted to be with you personally.

"Do you have anything in particular to do today?" you exclaimed cautiously, so the question allowed him to politely get rid of the invitation if he wanted to. You held back your urge to smile when he said no, attentive to what you had to say “Do you want to go to my apartment? If I'm still here I'm going to have a migraine and I think you should relax for a while too”

“Go to your apartment?” he asked, just to be sure, to which you nodded.

“Yeah, like… order some pizza, and… do you like wine? I have wine at home. And we can put on thrillers and see who can figure out who the killer is first”

"I would beat you"

"You think so, Reid?" you said, challenging his strange burst of confidence, and Spencer nodded playfully, a lock of hair falling over his forehead. "I'll buy you your week's coffee if you beat me" saying this, you knew full well you didn't stand a chance, but if a couple of dollars spent on coffee would get you a few extra hours with him, you were willing to accept that.

"It's a deal" he smiled and in less than ten minutes you were out of the offices.

As expected, you lost the game, but you couldn't say you ended the night disappointed. At first you didn't even know why you invited him, because outside of that neighborhood park in Las Vegas, you'd never spent any time alone. Spencer was all shy at first, always sitting up straight and hugging his briefcase, but when you broke the tension he relaxed considerably. The wine helped a bit because, although he confessed to you that he didn't drink often, you two ended up with a bottle of red that you had in the cupboard; not too much to lose consciousness, but enough to get gigglier. Even Spencer's ever-dapper outfit was thrown into disarray, as he'd loosened his tie and removed his vest to deal with the rise in body temperature the alcohol brought on. As promised you had pizza for dinner, which he refused to let you pay for, and in the process you put on some of the classic movies you found, according to google, making sure neither of you had seen them before. That night you were tempted to tell your partner that he could sleep over there if he wanted, but you had to say that a hint like that might make him uncomfortable. You didn't want to break the magic of the moment.

So the next morning you walked into the Quantico offices more energetic than usual, holding a couple of glasses of coffee on a tray.

"Good morning, Y/L/N" Morgan greeted you, as you approached the BAU work area, where Hotch and Elle were also present.

"Good morning, have you seen Spencer today?"

"I suppose he arrived, but I haven't seen him"

"I think he hid in the kitchen"

"Why do you ask?" muttered Morgan, who was probably the gossipiest of the three and also the most teasing. You knew, unfortunately, that if you didn't tell him, he would question Spencer, and you didn't want him to feel uncomfortable.

“I bought him a coffee. We made a bet last night and I'll be buying it all week"

"So you're trying to make him fall for you, huh" he exclaimed, completely ignoring your explanation, so you decided to play along.

"I think I'll need a few more months for that" judging by the man's laugh, you knew that the answer had satisfied him. You wondered if it bothered you that Spencer might misinterpret that joke as fact, but at the same time you wondered if it really was something that bothered you enough to deny it.

You walked down the aisle looking for the brown-haired boy and greeted a few people along the way, until, as if by divine grace, you looked at the man’s back and at the same time heard the click of heels, which you already knew quite well, going in the same direction.

"Spencer!" you called him before Victoria could tell him anything, and he turned with that awkwardness that characterized him showing a small smile when he noticed that it was you.

"Hello"

“You better not be making your coffee,” you murmured, getting close enough to hand her the cup you brought on the tray and making sure Victoria, who was making her own drink, would overhear the conversation. “I hope you like it. Sweet as you"

"Thank you," he replied, slightly embarrassed by the compliment you'd just paid him. He peered into the cup and frowned “Why did the barista write a heart next to my name?”

“It wasn't the barista, it was me”

It took Spencer a moment to sink the words in, and then he looked back at you with a confused expression.

"And why did you write a heart next to my name?"

You couldn't help but contain a laugh and Victoria, who had been attentive to the entire conversation, contained an angry sigh when she saw you extend your hand to the boy's bicep to give it a squeeze, taking the opportunity to get a little closer to him.

"I hope to repeat last night sometime" you muttered ignoring his question "I really had fun"

"Me too," he said, faster than you'd expect, and you smirked to notice that she was right next to him, her jaw clenching angrily. Without Reid realizing it, that talk could be completely interpreted as you've had a sexual affair, and not only that, but you were looking forward to it again.

"I'll see you around, right?"

"I think so" he replied. Spencer took a sip of the coffee you bought him, as if he'd just remembered it, and took a moment to savor it, closing his eyes in the process. You tried not to be distracted by the afterimage of him licking his lips. "I love it, what's with it?"

“Huh-uh, I won't tell you. If you want to drink it, you will have to ask me” you replied playfully. You thought that perhaps, at some point, he would become uncomfortable with your indiscreet flirtations, but when he smiled at you and looked away, you knew he was actually liking it. And if Spencer liked being fawned over, you weren't going to put up a fight.

"Thank you"

"It's nothing, doctor. Good luck on your day" you said goodbye, showing him the most beautiful smile you were capable of manifesting.

After that you made sure to look Victoria square in the eye as you left, confident that if she tried to say something rude to the profiler again you would confront her yourself and finally got lost. She looked at him, utterly offended, and then did the same, leaving behind the cup of coffee she was preparing to lock herself in the office and be grumpy all day. But Spencer didn't even notice any of it, as he was too busy looking closely at his heart in his cup to get any idea of what it might mean.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #jason gideon #JJ #penelope garcía

[talesofesther]

make it taste like love

Loki x Reader

Summary: You felt him before you even met him. And despite the pain he carried around, his soul was one of the most beautiful you'd ever seen.

A/N: A spur-of-the-moment idea that I simply couldn't ignore. I really hope you guys enjoy it, and yes I'm working on part two of my series with Loki as well. <3

Word count: 6k

Masterlist

The battle had left its mark on everyone, both physically and mentally. All the lives that were lost wouldn't be brought back. But everyone took solace in the fact that Thanos and his army were no longer a threat. And now, it was a time for rebuilding.

Wakanda's grassland was a battlefield. Bodies of both friend and foe lay scattered on the ground. The mourning loomed heavy in the air, you could feel it weighing down on your chest, your throat, and lungs. It was suffocating, prickling into your skin like needles. Yet you still walked, your boots crushing the grass underneath while you avoided stepping on stretched arms and legs, you needed to make sure no one else remained left behind.

A few feet away, the mad titan who once threatened the entire universe lay lifeless on the ground, his head disconnected from his body. For him, you felt no pity.

King T'Challa was both happy and sad to see you and the others leave. Happy, because it meant the end of a war; sad, because of having to say farewell to dear friends. But you, Steve, Natasha, and Banner were needed back in town, back at the Avengers compound; to welcome Tony back on earth, and because Thanos' attack had reverberated in many other places. It seemed like the Avengers were back in the game.

─── ·❆· ───

This morning was a gloomy one. Grey skies peeked behind your curtains in the early hours of the day, maybe it would rain soon. It's been two weeks since the battle, and you were glad to see that most people were recovering; each in their own way, but recovering nonetheless.

You were already up when the clock hit 7:30 AM, holding a warm cup of coffee between your hands, and staring out into the compound's driveway and past the treeline through the big windows of the kitchen. Today would be the day that Thor came back, he'd been helping with the settling of his people in New Asgard until now, but you've heard about him not wanting to be king anymore. You were happy for him, you never did think that a ruler's life suited him anyway—and you missed your friend.

"He gets one chance, Rogers. One chance and that's it." Tony's voice suddenly caught your attention as he stepped into the kitchen, you turned your back to the window so you could watch as your resident Iron Man poured himself a cup of coffee without looking at his mug. Steve was right beside him, his hands on his hips as he sighed quietly, already all too used to Tony's moods.

"Yes, one chance, he proved himself enough by helping us fight against Thanos, I suppose we owe him the benefit of the doubt," Steve agreed, still holding his voice calm.

With a smirk on your lips, you approached your teammates. "What's going on, guys?" You leaned on the kitchen island, taking a sip of your coffee.

Tony ran his tongue over his bottom lip, his expression less than pleased as he took a sip of his own coffee before saying; "point break is bringing his beloved brother to our home." He shrugged, and said in a quieter tone, "Says he changed or something."

"Loki will be staying with us?" You raised an eyebrow. The attack on New York happened before you joined the team, but you were familiar enough with it to be wary of Thor's brother, even if Thor did speak more nicely of him recently. Still, you had never actually met Loki to form your own opinion.

"That's… to be decided," Tony grumbled, shooting a glance toward Steve. "But yes, pretty much. And, by the way, Strange wasn't happy about having reindeer games back in the city either."

"Wow, you guys finally agree on something," you snickered.

Tony mouthed a 'don't' to you, before Steve said; "Strange knows we'll handle it if anything happens, but Thor vouches for him, so…"

You gave Steve a soft smile, and as much as you understood Tony's wariness, you agreed with the Captain. Loki didn't have the best of pasts with the City, but his help in the recent battle was one of many game-changers. He deserved a second chance.

Strangely enough, you found yourself excited to meet the God of Mischief. It was in your nature to analyze people, watch them from afar, and learn about the things they'd rather not say out loud. And someone like Loki, who had both once tried to take over your planet and now helped in saving it, was bound to raise some curiosity.

No more than an hour passed before you heard Thor's strong voice all the way from the living room. A small smile instantly came to your lips as you discarded your book, got up from the couch, and put on your slippers, rushing to the main doors to greet him.

Before you could turn the last corner, however, you came to an abrupt halt. Your breath got caught up in your throat and you had to lean back on the wall for support. Clutching the fabric of your shirt right above your heart, you were glad that this particular hallway was currently empty.

You could hear Thor's voice just around the corner, Tony was there too, but their words were faint and far away. Your vision was suddenly a little blurry, and underneath your palm you could feel your heart beating frantically.

See, this was nothing that hadn't happened before, after all, you are an empath. But a feeling this heavy rarely comes unannounced, unwanted. It briefly reminded you of when you first discovered your power, when you had no control and could pick up on pain, anger, joy, and pleasure that were not your own even if you didn't want to. Yet now, after years of living with it, you had learned to dose your perception of the feelings around you; now, when you weren't willingly focusing, other people's emotions felt more like a gentle whisper, a gush of chilly wind on your skin—something you were able to ignore if you wanted to.

But this overwhelming sadness; this emptiness, and loss, and pain; it came to you with such force that you were not able to block out. Seconds felt like hours, until the surprise of the new feeling passed and you took back control. Whispers of it remained, lurking in your stomach and in the back of your throat, but with a bit of extra focus, you were able to handle it.

And once your mind was finally clear again, it hit you. Who did you catch these feelings from?

You took a step around the corner cautiously, hands buried in your pockets as your eyes roamed your surroundings. There was no one around besides Tony, Thor, and Loki.

You knew it right away. You were familiar with the emotions radiating from Tony and Thor; but him, the raven-haired trickster, he was new, and if you didn't feel empathy for him before, you did now.

Loki held himself immaculately, a straight posture and a serene expression on his face. You had no idea how he did it, how he was able to hold all of those feelings in and still look so well put together; because one glance into his soul and you already felt like crying.

There was a light drizzle falling outside, maybe that's why Loki's black blazer seemed to be shining under the bright lights of the entrance hall. His eyes—bright and ocean-green—were settled on you; the realization got you feeling hyperaware of each movement you made. Even his gaze was heavy.

Thor's booming voice calling your name captured your attention then, he had a big smile on his face and before you knew it he already had your feet off the floor as he held you in a hug.

You laughed against his shoulder, hugging him back just as tight and telling him all about how much you missed him. Still, when you let go, your eyes found Loki's again, he hadn't stopped looking at you once.

─── ·❆· ───

The opinions about Loki's presence in the compound were mixed, but most of your teammates seemed fine with it; truth be told, no one paid much attention to him. As you'd expected, Loki's room was on your floor, because that's where Thor stayed too; as well as Tony, Natasha, and Yelena.

It's been a few days since his arrival, yet you haven't had the opportunity to properly speak with him, alone. But you've been feeling him a lot. Whether it was you subconsciously focusing on him more, or something else, it seemed like your body was more in tune and connected with his than you've ever been with anyone else. You picked up on a few of his emotions even if you weren't actively trying to; you felt his bouts of uneasiness when someone would stare at him for too long, you felt his gentle serenity whenever he'd sit near the windows to read a book, you felt his sparks of joy when people greeted him with a good morning or asked if he'd want coffee; but most of all, you still felt that lingering sadness that followed him everywhere he went, a weight he seemed to be all too used to having around.

In some ways, you felt as if you were invading his privacy, and that bothered you. During the day you tried to keep your mind as busy as you could to keep yourself from feeling him; in the late hours of the night though, when you were trying to sleep, there wasn't much you could do.

You have been tossing and turning in bed for probably about two hours now, drifting in and out of sleep. The crescent moon just outside your window seemed to be taunting you, amused with your misfortune. You scoffed as you glared at the natural satellite—great, now you were arguing with the cosmos.

Loki was having a nightmare. You could tell by the rapid beating of his heart and the cold sweat running down his forehead—your abilities went way beyond simply feeling other people's emotions, but sometimes you wished they wouldn't. It's not the first time that you've felt Loki's restless sleep in the short time he's been here. Your heart ached for him; it got you wanting to alleviate his pain.

But you couldn't do that, so you got up from your bed, put on your fluffy slippers, and made a beeline for the kitchen. The air outside was chilly, biting at your warm skin and making you shiver. At this hour of the night, the compound was completely dark and quiet, a big contrast to how it was when the sun was up. You asked Friday to turn on one of the lights in the kitchen, giving the space a dim-lit look as the single light bled into the adjacent living room.

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, humming the lyrics of the song stuck in your head as you reached for the upper cabinet to grab a mug so you could make yourself some tea. When you turned around again though, a gasp escaped your mouth and you nearly dropped the mug you were holding. You cursed quietly under your breath, placing a hand over your heart; if you weren't fully awake before, you sure were now. "You scared me," you muttered, trying a small smile.

The reason for your lack of sleep stood before you, with dark green slippers that matched his button-up pajama shirt, and his hair the messier you've ever seen it be. "Sorry, it was not my intention," Loki smirked back at you.

It hit you that this was finally the first time you were alone with him, and you'd been caught off guard. You tapped your mug, opening your lips but no words came out. Loki's eyes remained on you, unwavering, yet his gaze was so… soft, gentle even; his eyebrows weren't creased and he patiently waited for you with his hands in the pockets of his checkered pajama pants. He didn't look like the god you usually saw roaming the halls during the day.

"It's alright. I was just making tea," you said finally, gesturing to your mug, "would you like me to make one for you too?"

Loki's surprise at your offer was so great that you felt it in your bones. What was he expecting you to do?

His lips parted only slightly and he straightened his posture before saying; "I would- yes, I would like that."

You couldn't help the full smile that came to your lips and crinkled the side of your eyes, "great, sit down, it'll be ready in just a moment."

The warm mug between your hands warmed up your skin. It felt nice, sitting like this with Loki; in a quiet kitchen with only you and him, and just the lonely light to your left softly highlighting his features in front of you. It was a peaceful silence, and you couldn't help but check if he felt it too.

The rhythm of his heart was calm, his soul felt light and at ease; not completely, but the most you've ever felt from him.

"Why are you here?" His sultry voice snapped you back to reality.

"Uh- I'm sorry?" You frowned.

"Why are you here, if I may ask?" Loki tilted his head amusedly, his fingers tracing the brim of his mug. "Thor mentioned you had… abilities, but he never specified what they are."

Now it was your turn to be surprised by his curiosity for you. "Well, to put it simply, I'm an empath," you told him.

Loki blinked, once, twice, at your response. He looked at you for a moment before inquiring further; "and to put it completely?"

You smirked then, folding your arms over the table. "I can feel people's emotions, if I want to; their anger, happiness, hesitation, fear. But I can also feel their heartbeats, the blood cursing through their bodies. I can tell when they're lying or telling the truth, if they're tired or hurt. And sometimes, I can influence those emotions," you paused, hesitating for a beat, "bring fear, or… take away pain."

Loki grew tense after learning of what you could do. To be fair, most people did at first, you were used to it. Be he felt different, his heartbeat sped up and stayed that way. He'd put his guard up, and it brought a pang of hurt to your chest.

"Are you always feeling everything then?" He narrowed his eyes.

"Gods, no," you breathed, "at first I did, and it was awful. But with time, I learned to control it." You tried smiling at him, but his eyes were downcast, focused on his mug.

You bit your lower lip in nervousness. Looking past Loki and out the window, you could see the first signs of the sunrise peeking over the horizon, dark skies turning a soft lilac and blue; you'd been here longer than you realized.

When Loki glanced up at you again, his bright eyes still held sparks of that same softness from earlier. He pursed his lips in a smile; "thank you for the tea." And with that, he got up and left, leaving you in the company of the first birds who always sang in the mornings.

─── ·❆· ───

You made Loki nervous. It wasn't a bad kind of nervous, it was the kind that sped up his heart and made his cold hands feel clammy.

Out of everyone in the compound, you were the kindest. You'd always shoot him a smile whenever you'd pass by each other in the hallways; you'd always save a seat for him at the table; you always respected his silence whenever you came into the library and caught him reading his book, saying a quiet hello and nothing more, just sitting on one of the armchairs with your own book and allowing him to enjoy his moment, and more recently, your presence too.

When he'd finally learned of your abilities, he got apprehensive, worried even; that you'd pick up on whatever it was that he felt when he was near you, and it would drive you away.

So far, it hasn't happened yet.

The sun was out today, and with it, so was everyone else. In the spacious backyard of the compound, Steve was in charge of the barbecue, and Tony was in charge of the drinks. Natasha had sunglasses covering her eyes while she and Clint bickered over a game of cards; Yelena was sitting beside her sister at the lunch table, however, she seemed to be on Clint's side of the argument. Thor and Banner were laughing together as they made fun of Steve's cooking skills, who tried to defend himself by saying he wasn't actually done yet. Tony looked like he was trying to convince Bucky to drink a dubious-looking beverage, the latter didn't seem too keen on it.

And Loki watched them from afar, from the living room window of his floor. Thor had asked that he join them downstairs, saying something about how he should start trying to fit in and mingle, instead of just existing in the others' presence. Making friends wasn't Loki's forte; as much as he'd fight not to admit it, he was still working up the courage.

With a long sigh, Loki turned around and made his way to the place where he'd been spending most of his free time.

The compound's library was quite huge. One of the few rooms in the whole facility that had warm colors painting the walls and lacked the modern look; tall wooden shelves held thousands of books, a soft beige carpet covered the floor, and there were armchairs and sofas scattered in corners and in-between shelves creating comfortable, isolated nooks for reading. Loki's favorite spot was a worn armchair that stood near one of the big windows, it was surrounded by books that most people didn't read anymore, and the window itself overlooked the treeline in which the sun hid behind at the end of every day; sometimes as he sat there to read, it reminded him of his room back in Asgard.

Loki walked brushing his fingers over the spine of the old books, watching as dust particles danced in the sunlight. But as he rounded the shelf that led to his spot, he abruptly stopped in his tracks, feet glued to the carpet.

You sat cross-legged on the worn armchair, with a thick book lying in your lap that held all of your attention; the sun was shining right behind you, creating a halo above your head and bathing the strands of your hair in golden. You looked like something out of his favorite tale, more enchanting than all of the Midgard poetry books he's ever read.

It seemed like you two were making a habit of bumping into each other unexpectedly.

Loki gulped, squaring his shoulders. A beat passed, and then two, until you finally noticed him from the corner of your eyes. You looked up at him with your eyebrows softly raised in surprise, a gentle smile lifted the sides of your mouth; "Loki, hi."

"Hello," Loki greeted you slowly, his eyes shifting from the book in your lap to your eyes, "shouldn't you be out with the others, enjoying the sun?"

"Should I?" You narrowed your eyes, lazily closing your book and getting up from the armchair. "Shouldn't you?" You asked then, smirking as you raised an eyebrow and took a step towards him.

Loki's heart stumbled inside his chest, he breathed out a laugh. "I'm not big on hangouts."

You hummed, burying your hands in the pockets of your jeans. "Why is that?"

For a moment, Loki dwelled on whether to be honest or come up with an easy lie. But you were looking up at him with such delicacy, such attention, not a trace of hatred or judgment in your warm eyes. It almost looked as if you cared... about him.

Loki breathed in sharply through his nose, the words rolled off his tongue on their own; "I doubt many of your friends would enjoy my presence there."

You blinked up at him, lips parting before you told him quietly; "I would."

There was a distant burning behind Loki's eyes, his mouth felt dry. No one had ever rendered him completely speechless before, yet now, you had done just that. With his silence, you avoided his eyes and ran your tongue over your bottom lip in a motion that he couldn't help but follow.

"And..." You continued, voice sweet as honey, traveling between the bookshelves in the secluded library, "We'll never know if we don't try, right?"

The way you referred to you and him as 'we' got a foreign feeling blossoming inside Loki's chest, all warm and tingly. When you offered him your hand, so you could guide him downstairs to meet the others, he took it.

─── ·❆· ───

After a full week of taking care of the whole city, Saturday nights were a time for having fun and relaxing; aka movie nights with the team. Everyone sat together in the main living room of the compound, Tony had labeled it 'mandatory bonding day'. The room itself was pretty spacious, dimly lit, with two big comfortable couches and a TV that almost covered the whole wall, and a small kitchen right beside it for easy snacks and drinks.

"Right, I'm thinking... Terminator." Tony suggested as he came from the kitchen with an extra large bowl of popcorn in his arms.

"We saw that one already," Steve complained as he fumbled with the remote.

"There are multiple ones," Tony said, smugly, as he plopped himself on the couch and threw popcorn in his mouth.

Thor, who sat beside you, suddenly perked up with a giddy smile on his face; "oh I've always enjoyed that one who has the girl with the long, magic hair." The god gestured to his own hair.

Tony gaped at him, his fingers holding the popcorn were frozen midair. "Tangled?" He exclaimed then, eyebrows raised, "You wanna watch Tangled? in my house?"

You fought to hide a smile. "Technically it's our house," you quipped, after all, you were to blame for Thor's love for the Disney movie.

"Why don't we just watch both? The night is still young," Yelena finally suggested from her spot by the corner of the couch.

As they continued bickering, your eyes finally caught sight of the one you'd been waiting for.

Loki walked into the living room quietly, his socked feet barely making any noise on the expensive flooring. His gaze found yours before he saw anything else in the room, and a gentle, shy smile appeared on his lips.

You'd grown very close, very fast. Loki had started seeking your presence more and more each passing day; during the mornings he'd wait for you with an extra cup of coffee in hand, during the missions it was already routine that you two were a pair, and during the night you never parted ways without him planting a kiss on your forehead first.

Never in your life had you met someone quite like him, who carried such a bruised heart and still managed to be so loving. It made you wonder if anyone had ever bothered to see how beautiful his soul was, for you had fallen in love with it before you even touched his skin.

You gently patted the vacant seat on your left side, lifting the thin blanket covering your legs so Loki could sit down, and once he did you draped part of it over his legs as well.

"What's today's punishment?" Loki smirked, making himself comfortable beside you. His shoulder flush with yours.

"Stop it, movie nights are nice. I know you secretly enjoy them too," you chuckled, bumping his knee with yours. His proximity raised goosebumps all over your skin, and if you weren't so focused on your own feelings, you would've felt how much Loki's heart was racing as well.

"I only come to these because you do too," Loki mumbled, his eyes focused on the TV and a frown appearing on his eyebrows as the first scenes from Tangled played on the screen.

Your breath caught on your throat. He had said it so casually, so easily. You wondered if he had even realized the weight of his own words. "Right," you whispered, a little breathless.

It didn't take long for the only light in the room to be the one coming from the TV. When Tangled hit the 45-minute mark, Tony was already snoring and Thor had finished two bowls of popcorn. You, however, were wide awake and fully aware of Loki's arm resting on the back of the couch. What a cliche move, you thought to yourself, your cheeks burning hot and biting back a smile.

Loki's face as he watched the movie was nothing short of comical, one would think he was watching a period drama; his lips hovering ever so slightly before he'd scoff at a musical scene, his eyes softening as the romance between Rapunzel and Flynn blossomed, the way he mindlessly played with the ends of your hair. You watched him more than you watched the movie, and you didn't miss the way he froze and gulped when you finally rested your head on his shoulder.

─── ·❆· ───

The day had started out fine; a cold yet sunny morning, your fingers brushing Loki's when he handed you your cup of coffee, no eminent trouble in the city, everything was normal and fine; until it took a turn for the worse.

You didn't hear the fight, you didn't know exactly what caused it, but you felt it immediately. Anger, hurt, and pain were suddenly heavy in the air even through the closed door of your bedroom. As soon as a shiver ran up and down your spine you got up and all but ran outside to chase the somber feeling.

The elevator doors of your floor weren't even fully open yet when Loki busted his way through them, Thor hot on his heels.

"I knew it was a mistake coming here," Loki snapped, his steps fast as he put as much distance between himself and Thor as he could, nearly running straight into you in the process.

"You know what, brother," Thor began, he had stopped walking, standing in the middle of the living room, "Maybe it really was a mistake to bring you here, you don't care about anyone but yourself, it's almost as if you enjoy hurting people, you can't help it. It'll always be like this, that's why you're better off on your own." Thor wasn't shouting, but his words rang loudly in the room; his chest heaving when he stopped speaking.

You had held your breath the entire time, gripping the back of a kitchen stool until your knuckles turned white. Thor was angry, you could feel it even without being near him, but he didn't mean what he had said, not entirely. Thor's emotions were a passing wind on your skin though, for who you really felt, stood just a few feet behind you.

Loki had his back turned to his brother when he spoke, and he didn't turn around after. Even without looking at him, you could feel the way he trembled, unsteady hands closed into tight fists to mask his hurt; he gulped back a sob, and kept on walking to his bedroom without a word.

You could choke with the amount of pain radiating off of Loki; heavy, sickening, all-encompassing pain that you felt so vividly in your skin and bones. You only shot Thor an angry glance and muttered; "Damnit Thor," before turning around hastily. You thought you heard Thor calling after you, but you decided to ignore him, your priorities already set.

You ran after Loki, catching up just before his door slammed shut. Taking a deep breath, you walked into his bedroom and softly closed the door behind you with a click.

You'd never actually been in Loki's room before, so you took a single moment to glance around. The room itself was a little bare, with only the necessities such as a double bed, a dresser, a desk, a small bookshelf, and the door that led to his bathroom. You made a mental note to gift him something to liven up his space; maybe a plant.

Loki had his back turned to you still, both his hands resting on his waist as his head hung low. But you knew he knew it was you there with him, by the simple fact that he was allowing you to stay.

The silence was a heavy one, packed with the electricity of two souls tightly holding onto each other. Loki was trying so hard to keep all his pain in control, his shoulders shaking with each breath he took; but you could feel it as if it was your own.

"Loki," you said his name in nothing but breath, testing the waters. You took half a step toward him as you fidgeted with your hands.

He didn't answer. You weren't expecting him to.

You pursed your lips before saying; "he didn't mean it," your voice was choked and took effort to come out, the back of your eyes already burning, "what Thor said. He- he didn't mean it."

A few beats passed, and then; "doesn't matter if he did." Loki's words cracked in the middle, it was the most broken you'd ever heard him sound. "He's right."

"He's not," you told him in the same heartbeat, not a tint of hesitation in your tone.

Loki turned around, his gaze finally finding yours and there were tears pooling at the bottom lid of his bright eyes. "Yes, he is," he took a single big step toward you, nearly closing the distance between you and him. Loki's lips trembled as he struggled to keep talking; "and why is it that you care? What's in it for you?"

He was hurt, and he was frustrated, and he was angry; you knew that. Still, you couldn't help but be taken aback by his question. What could he even mean by that? Did he really believe that all this time that you'd been dancing around each other's feelings, it wasn't real?

"Loki, I-" you stuttered, not knowing how to say it without baring your heart in the process. Your hesitation got Loki avoiding his eyes from yours, and you forced yourself to go on. "There's nothing 'in it for me' I just... care about you."

Still waiting for the other shoe to drop, Loki softly shook his head, scoffing. His tears were a blink away from spilling, he felt as if barbed wire was wrapped around his throat, and his heart threatened to jump from his chest and straight into your hands.

It scared him. How easily you could make his walls crumble like paper in the rain. He flinched slightly when he felt the ghost of your touch on his cheek, blinking multiple times when your thumb brushed away a single tear rolling down his cheek. You touched him as if he were porcelain, and yet it still broke him.

"Is it that hard to believe that you're important to me?" You asked then, voice nothing but a whisper in the short space separating your bodies. With your hand still holding his cheek, you forced his eyes back on yours. "You have a good heart, Loki. I just wish you could see it the way I do. I wish everyone could see it."

The crooked smile he gave you nearly made your own tears fall. "You don't know what you're talking about, you don't know what I've done," he told you quietly, more than anything, he sounded utterly defeated.

"But I do know," your free hand found one of his then, and you tangled your fingers together loosely, "I might not have been with the Avengers when you attacked New York, but I was still in New York. And I still mean it, you could tell me every single bad thing you've ever done and I'd still tell you how good you are, because I see it. Every single day, Loki. I feel you every single day, and I can feel all this-" Your words caught in your throat and you tasted your tears on your lips. "-All this pain that you carry around and you still choose to be good."

Too many emotions swam behind his eyes for you to put a finger in any of them. But tears were running freely down Loki's cheeks now, pooling against your hand resting on his cheek.

"What did you-" he tried, gasping for air as if he was underwater. This was foreign territory. You had a place in his heart no one else could ever have, he realized, and his heart was beating faster than his mind knew what to do with. "You've been prying into my emotions without me knowing?" He sounded more desperate than annoyed.

"I didn't want to," You explained quickly, "I- I never meant to, but for some reason, I can't block you out." Shrugging weakly, you slowly dropped the hand resting on his cheek, missing the way he glanced down in search of your warmth. "I tried. I really tried."

There was a vulnerability in Loki's eyes you'd never seen before. He looked at you as if he'd just realized what love is. You wondered if you mimicked the same gaze—you sure felt it.

Loki shuffled in his stance. His hand, still holding onto yours, tightened its grip. "I'm-" He avoided your eyes, looking somewhere past your shoulder, "I'm sorry you had to feel all that."

You softened at his words, shaking your head and taking another step forward until your sneakers bumped his shoes. "Wasn't your fault," you whispered.

Loki gulped back a sob after you spoke, and that was the last straw for you to let go of his hand and pull his body to yours in an embrace.

He melted into you.

Loki's fingers dug into the fabric of your shirt and he buried his head against your shoulder—you soon felt it becoming damp, yet you only hugged him tighter. With the desperation he was holding you with, you wondered when was the last time someone had held him.

The soft sobs escaping him were muffled against you. And you couldn't help but stroke his back, the tips of your fingers burying into his very soul. "I'm sorry you had to go through all of this alone." You spoke near his ear, feeling the goosebumps that raised on his skin. "You never deserved it," you promised.

You weren't sure how much time passed, you stayed there for as long as Loki needed you to. When he eventually pulled away, he didn't go far, his hands kept holding your body close to him as if he was afraid you'd leave if he let go.

His bright eyes didn't hold a storm anymore, they were more like a calm sea. A soft frown etched itself into his eyebrows, "did you… take away my pain?"

You chuckled quietly, "No, I can't take away people's emotions." You lifted a hand until your fingertips could brush the skin on his forehead, "But I can make them lighter." You traced an invisible line over his eyebrow and until you reached his cheekbone, "Make the weight just a little bit easier to carry."

Loki leaned into your touch, almost closing his eyes. His hands that rested on your back traced your spine and pulled you closer. "Darling, you've been making it easier ever since the first day I met you."

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

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#loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki imagine #loki #marvel #loki series #loki x you #marvel x reader #loki x female reader #imagine #fanfic #angst #fluff #loki fanfic #my story #loki laufeyson x reader

[b1rds3ye]

Helloo!! I've seen the LED Mask Reader x 141, and I got an idea that the mask gets wet by anything, water, drinks, whTever you can think off, and it malfunctions, and Readers mask is still worn despite it like just being pure bLaCK, and the squad is just trying to guess what mood reader is in? :DD

PLEASE THIS IS SO FUNNY. The 141 cares about you, they know you inside and out, but they’ve taken the mask for granted when it comes to knowing your emotions. You were the most expressive member of the team but now your mask was broken and due to how specialised the parts for your mask are, it won’t be fixed until another week.

Soap absolutely tries to turn it into a game. He keeps goading Gaz on to make a bet about what your mood is but it becomes quite impressive how they manage to read you by body language alone now, they’ve picked up quirks about you that you didn’t even notice… or so they think. They can get into quite heated debates about who knows you better.

“Their shoulders rose with that breath, they’re pissed.”

“Nah, that happens when L.T. forgets his mask is on 'n' steals a drink, they’re laughing.”

“They’re just breathing you twats,” Ghost sighs as he walks past. The sergeants always huff at his answers but he's right more often than not.

Simon doesn’t join in on the sergeants' antics often, not unless he can benefit from it. If Johnny raises the bet high enough he’ll contribute his own take on your mood. These days though the sergeants dread him joining in, Simon’s experiences both with a mask and being a superior in the military gives him the upper hand at reading you.

The easier way would just be asking how you're feeling but for one, that's not fun. And secondly, a private beat them to the punch.

"You all good, Masky?"

"Yep," you reply curtly as the private takes the sign to move away. The 141 members all stare at you, recording that singular worded response into their mind, rewinding and then repeating the sound again and again. The choppiness of your syllable suggested irritability, evident by Gaz's satisfactory smirk. He stands up tall, ready to approach you and comfort you...

Until one soldier beat him to it, the only one who had the all the more experience than any of them.

"Drink up, Sergeant," Price states as he slides a water bottle across the table to you. You catch it. "Thirsty, aren't you?"

"... how'd you know?" you ask, flabbergasted.

"Captain's intuition," he replies, leaning back on the desk, arms folded. He shoots a look to the rest of the Task Force. He's getting that money.

(Jokes aside, these antics only happen on base. When out on missions, you're all on the same wavelength and often times the 141 know how you feel before even you're aware)

Masked Reader Masterlist Call of Duty Masterlist

#cod x reader #call of duty x reader #cod x you #task force 141 x reader #captain price x reader #john price x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #john mactavish x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #anon mail ❤️ #/*avery checks the mailbox*/ #/*avery actually writes*/ #/*cod x masked reader*/