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yanaromanov · 1 day

Text

fuck me, i’m famous

｡ﾟ*. 18+, minors DNI . * ｡ﾟ･

paring: rockstar!natasha romanoff x reader

summary: when your boyfriend drags you along to a rock concert of a band you barely know, and then ceremoniously dumps you to go out with his friends after, it feels like your night can’t get any worse. thankfully, the guitarist of the band seems to take a particular interest in you and offers you an alternative offer on how to spend your night that seems just too good to refuse.

warning(s): cheating (r has a bf), but he’s a shitty bf, oc male character, band jargon that may or may not be correct, alcohol consumption, copious amounts of flirting, slight mention of crystals, swearing, many pet names, first time with a woman, smut, fingering, thigh riding, masturbation, scissoring, multiple orgasms, hickeys, natasha talking you through things, lots of praise, slight degradation (?), minors dni.

authors note: okay i feel like this is kinda bad and messy but i also spent too much time on it not to post. i’m still getting used to writing smut and haven’t wrote anything like this before so i hope it’s okay 😭😭 the end is also rushed so plz just ignore that :))

wc: 12.2K words

You've seen enough books and movies to know how things are supposed to go. How that perfect moment comes, when the pieces fall into place and you suddenly realize this is what you're meant to do, what you've always meant to do. But you've also lived a life long enough to know it never actually happens. In truth, it's all a bunch of bullshit.

There's never such thing as love at first sight, no moment where the world freezes on everyone except you and music plays in slow motion in the background, your eyes falling on that one person through the crowd that you just know your heart only beats for. In real life, the cards just don't fall like that. There's too many shitty people and grievous circumstances for the true movie dream to ever be lived, forever just a piece of fiction one can only fantasize of.

You know all this, understand it to be true. And yet, one hot Summer night, it feels like it all melts away and that fairy tale veil falls down right in front of your very own eyes.

It's not slow when it happens, not like in the movies. It's fast and loud and hot and sweaty. The music around you blares into your ears, bodies beside you screaming out lyrics you barely know. In the crowded space, you at least try to have a good time, try to mimic your boyfriend's energy as he dances and sings beside you, but you know its all futile. You want to leave. Truly, never wanted to come in the first place, but had done for him, for all his pleas and begs. You'll love it, I promise. Please come, baby, please.

The lights are hurting your eyes, the fog burning at your irises. Everyone is far too close to you, strangers pressing up against your sides from the front row section your boyfriend, Tyler, had demanded you needed. You don't feel it right all the back there. You need to be close to feel it in your bones. You feel a little sick.

And then that's when it happens. Body jostling against the side of the raised stage, ears ringing from being far too close to the speakers, that's when your own movie moment finally crashes into you. It's quick, so quick you don't even take notice till a few seconds after it happens. As your eyes raise to the band playing in front of you, they graze over each of the members. The brunette hugging the microphone center stage; the other behind hammering into a black drum set; the tall blonde whose fingers dance over the fretboard of a blue bass; and then finally, the woman playing an electric guitar stage right the same color as her fiery red hair. When you meet her eye it's like one of those moments back in high school, when you're accidentally caught making eye contact with someone across the class. But this time, unlike any time with your classmates, the redhead doesn't screw her face up, passing you a dirty look. What the fuck are you looking at? Instead, she winks.

Seconds later her gaze is gone, returned to the vibrating audience, and it takes you just about as much time to even acknowledge what had just happened. It seems fake, like a miscommunication in the space of a blink. Surely you must be imagining things, the heat in the room finally getting to you. But no, you're so sure of it. So set on what you've seen. A few moments later, it's like it's confirmed. The redhead's sights turn back on you, looking down into the pit of bodies where you stand. This time she holds, her eyes trained to yours as she continues to pluck the strings of her guitar. A small smirk stretches across painted lips, teeth plunging down into plump flesh. The music doesn't slow like it does in the movies. In fact, it seems almost louder than ever as you hold contact with the redhead's playful gaze. And when she winks again, chin jutting in your direction, you know it's you she's looking at.

You feel a little too seen, and not so much in a good way. You don't feel that special moment you read about in books, the time you are the chosen one across the sea of other bodies, a spark lighting in your heart at the romanticism of it all. It actually only drives one question in to your head; why the fuck is she looking at me?

You duck your eyes away, looking to the floor and the scuffed boots on your feet. There's a half-full cup of water a few inches in front of you. You watch as dancing feet almost collide with it, surely only seconds a way from being spilled. It holds your attention for a long time, so long your boyfriend is grasping at your cheek to check you're alright. You smile the way you always seem to do. Lips painting a picture of 'yes, I'm fine', while your brain screams out in contradicting protest. How much longer till this thing is done? My fucking head hurts.

When the final song does eventually roll around, you're too lost in your own thoughts to even care. The redhead guitarist has made eye contact with you three more times since you'd first noticed. If there was any doubt you had she wasn't seeking you out, it was surely dissipated now. Each time your eyeline had actually raised to the stage in front of you, it was like the woman's eyes were already waiting for you.

Trying to hold back the dizziness from gazing down at the floor, you had tried to remember the redhead's name. In no offence to the band, or their adoring fans lined up behind you, you actually didn't know of them much at all. Sure, you've heard their songs blasted through your boyfriend's speakers, saw their faces on cassettes and cd's dumped around your apartment, but you've never truly been a follower of the band Crimson Coven. You try to rack your brain of the knowledge you have, of every rant your boyfriend has been on that you so casually zone out from. The lead singer's name is Wanda, you know that much. She seems to be his favourite from the amount of things you've heard him rattle on. She's never even taken singing lessons. She's actually European, isn't that sick? Did you know she has a twin brother? You should do your makeup like her, babe.

The redhead has you thrown for a loop though. There are two names swimming in your head, though you're pretty sure the drummer is the one named Maria and Carol doesn't seem to fit the guitarist stood on the right. For the life of you it seems you can't draw the name from your head. It stays that way until the concert is finishing, stood watching the four women walking off stage, screaming out "thank you's" and collecting thrown objects on to the small stage, all the while you notice a certain member's eyes still trained on you. You simply turn away and grab on to Tyler’s hand, letting him guide you out of the dissipating crowd. God, you can't wait to get home.

The line to the bathroom is a slight roadblock in your plan. It's not torturously long by any means, but it still has you stood outside pressing your thighs together as you try desperately to hold in the three cans of beer you'd drank before the gig had began. You're regretting that decision now as the line filters slowly into the venue's singular women's bathroom. Seriously, what the fuck is up with that? If it weren't for the half hour journey you had back to your place, you would have considered just holding it, but if the pain in your stomach were any indication, you weren't going to make it that far.

When it's finally your turn, you all but run into the cubicle. It's quieter in there, a barricade between the groups of people who’ve chosen to stay to socialize in the venue's lounge and bar area. The stall is not only a relief for your full bladder, but also your pounding head. You stay in there longer than what's needed, most likely angering the girls waiting outside, but you just can't help it. It's cool and quiet and a desperate contrast to the overstimulating room you'd just spent the last two hours in. After washing your hands, you take the time to check up on your makeup, licking the tip of your finger to fix the slightly smudged liner of your eyes. All in all, you're pretty intact considering the circumstances. A pleasing picture that will soon be washed away as you head home for a night of constant reiterations of the concert you'd just experienced.

You're almost rolling your eyes already at the thought, so easily predicting your boyfriend's behavior for the next several hours. It's this state of disapproval that blinds you as you open the door to the bathroom, not noticing the taller woman standing there before she's backing you up into the stall.

You stumble slightly as the presence walks towards you, your eyes adjusting to the other person who has suddenly joined you in the room. For a moment their back is turned, locking the door to the stall before their face is revealed to you. You curse a little under your breath when you recognise the features.

"There you are. God, do you know hard it was to track you down? Slipped right in here before I could get to ya."

The redhead in front of you breathes out her words, smiling down at you in a way that flips your stomach. It's in that moments everything truly comes crashing down. Every doubt you had, every belief that things like this don't happen in real life is swept away as the famous guitarist stands in front of you. It really was you she was looking at from the stage and now she'd tracked you down. Pinned you into a bathroom stall as she looks down on your figure with her eyes wide, almost drunk. "Uhm, hi?" Is all you manage to say, the entirety of the situation still comprehending itself in your mind.

The redhead in front of you smirks widely as she responds. "Hi." It's then that it hits you, the name you couldn't pinpoint earlier. Natasha. Natasha Romanoff. Lead guitarist of Crimson Coven. You're trying to remember anything Tyler might have said about her when she takes another step in your direction.

"Wow," she breathes, almost to herself. "You're even prettier up close." Her eyes seem to trace over your whole figure, her tongue playing with the inside of her cheek. "Fuck, you're gorgeous."

"Uhm...thank you?" you stutter back, not entirely sure of how you're supposed to act in this situation. You're still trying to get over the shock of her pushing you back into the bathroom before you'd tried to leave. Not sure what else to do, your own eyes trail over the star stood ahead of you. She's still wearing her outfit from her performance; an old looking graphic tee tucked into a pair of black denim shorts. The boots on her feet have silver embellishments that match perfectly with the necklaces around her neck and many rings adorning her fingers. Her lips are painted a shade of faded red that both contrasts and yet somehow works perfectly with her hair, curled and messy around her shoulders. As you look over her, the thought of why your boyfriend may just like her band so much crosses your mind. She really was hot as shit.

But despite her looks, there's still an anxiety bubbling in your chest at this situation. It’s probably not often people could get this close to the star, let alone be held up in a room alone with her. Yet your ears are still ringing and the only true wish crossing your mind's eye is your bed. So, disappointing every girl who'd rather be in your place, you simply clear your throat as you gesture mindlessly to the door behind her. "I think there's people waiting outside to use this cubicle."

The rockstar cocks her head, smirking back. "Oh yeah?" She shrugs, only briefly glancing over her shoulder at the closed bathroom door. "I'm sure they'd be fine waiting. Didn't mind letting me cut through the line." When she smiles back at you, you assume the look in her eye is a mirror of how a predator looks at its prey. You find your lip between your teeth as you look back, very aware of just how much time you'd already spent in this bathroom and how there was a lot of people stood outside who would be becoming increasingly more annoyed at the occupied status, rockstar be damned. Though her attitude remains relaxed, the redhead in front of you seems to pick up on your hesitation because she lets out a low sigh. "Look, if you're really that bothered why don't don't we leave and your pretty ass can join me backstage?"

She takes another step towards you, eyes darkening a they take in your figure. You swallow the saliva in your mouth in an attempt to cool the burn in your stomach. "Sorry-I um-I have a boyfriend," you manage to stutter out, taken aback by her advances. She definitely was hitting on you, that much was clear now, but you knew that Tyler would be waiting for you somewhere, most likely wondering why the fuck you were taking so long to pee.

When your words ring out, its like the redhead's brain short circuits. She almost freezes, only her brows moving to pull into a deep frown. "Shit," she murmurs. "Really?"

You nod in response, fingers playing with the back of your shirt. "Yeah." The redhead looks awfully confused, her gaze trailing over you as if there's something she's missed. When her eyes meet yours once more, its like your answer is a complete mystery to her, like there's something she saw you must have missed in your own reflection. You try to brush it off, not delving into whatever thoughts must be running through the star's head. Instead you just clear your throat again, pointing to the door. "He's um- probably waiting for me."

A tight smile passes across your lips as you slowly move towards the door. The redhead lets you go, ever so slightly brushing past her arm without another word said. You reach for the handle of the door, turning it open before leaving the rockstar behind to wallow in whatever confusion or disappointment runs through her head. You just want to find Tyler and get the hell out of there.

When you finally emerge from the bathroom stall, it feels even warmer than it had before. Though now you're not entirely sure if it's just the air, or also the blood you can feel coursing through your cheeks. You try your best to brush it off, looking around the space to try and locate wherever your boyfriend might have wondered off to. Walking past the line of remaining girls, you have to try ignore their passing stares. Most are likely from your extended use of the bathroom, holding them up even further, but you can't help but feel at least a few are thinking about whatever happened between you and Natasha in that stall and why on earth you had the nerve to leave such an opportunity unfulfilled.

Trying to leave the entire interaction behind, you move to the main area of the venue lounge to try find your boyfriend so you can finally head home. It takes you a good few minutes of searching through the crowds before you spy him across the way, stood talking with all of his friends that he'd brought along to the concert.

"Tyler," you call, passing through bodies to get to him. When he doesn't seem to hear you, you shout again. "Tyler!"

Finally, he turns around, a look of recognition passing over his face as you appear by his side. "Oh there you are, babe," he says. "Where the hell did you go?"

"I was just-I was peeing," you reply, looking around sheepishly at the group of men all staring down at you. It wasn't that you didn't like Tyler's friends per se, it was more so they just weren't your type of people. Most times they’re around, you manage to skilfully skirt around them until a time when they've all gone back home.

Tyler scoffs a little at your comment. "You were gone for like half an hour." He laughs, gesturing to the group as they all join in.

"Yeah. Um-the line was long," you say, trying to avoid the annoyance creeping up your spine as well as skirt around the encounter you'd had just moments ago. Partially because you were still trying to wrap your head around it but also because you didn't want to hear whatever he had to say about what happened. Instead, you just let out a small sigh. "Can we just go home now?"

"Oh actually," Tyler starts. "We were thinking of hitting up a few bars before we went home."

The words hit you like a blast of hot air, unable to deny the feeling of annoyance brewing under your skin. Still, you try to remain sweet in hopes he'll seek pity on you. "Tyler, please," you reply. "I'm tired, can't we just-"

"You don't have to come."

He cuts you off quickly, halting the words in your throat. The attitude you can hear in his voice almost immediately breaks the facade of kindness you were putting on. "Excuse me?"

Tyler shrugs, having the nerve to look annoyed, like you're the one being unreasonable here. "Just call a cab home. You'll be fine." And with that it seems he's had enough of the conversation, turning his shoulders away as he beckons his group to follow.

"No, Tyler wait," you try, but he continues to move away. The only thing you receive is him quickly turning over his shoulder, calling out a goodbye as he promises to see you later.

"Tyler!" You yell but it's futile, the image of your boyfriend already swallowed up by the crowd. "Fuck."

For the second time tonight it feels like you have no idea how to react. You swivel around on the spot, like a lost kid in a grocery store. Some part of you can't believe he would just leave you like that, but then the other part understands it's him all over. Stupid selfish prick.

Far past being annoyed at the night's events, you reach for the phone buried in your jacket pocket, determined to just do as you were told and order a cab home. When the screen returns to you black, the only image your own reflection staring back at you even as you press the power button repeatedly, a long string of curses escape your lips. Stupid fucking phones and their stupid ass batteries. And of course tonight had to be the night you had forgone your charger, leaving you with just a useless weight of metal that you slip back into your pocket. Just my fucking luck.

For a moment, you're stuck on what to do, how to find a way home, but then your eyes fall on the bar across the room. You make your way through the crowd, squeezing past people and mumbling half-assed 'sorry's' and 'excuse me's' until you eventually reach the bar. When you do, the bartender walks over to you, a small smile appearing on his face. "Hi, what can I get for you?"

"Actually, I was just wondering if you could call me a cab?" you reply, raising your voice to be heard over the venue's loud music.

The bartender furrows his brow. "What?"

"A cab," you repeat, leaning in further to his ear. "Can you call me a cab, please? My phone is dead."

"Oh, I can't sorry," he responds, shrugging his shoulders. "Phone is broken."

"What? Can't you use your mobile or-"

"Not while I'm on shift."

He shrugs again. You scoff.

"Please. I really need to get home."

"Sorry," the bartender responds finally, turning away to move towards another customer down the bar.

You watch him go, scowling. When he starts to talk to someone else, asking for their order, another waterfall of curses fall from your tongue. How the fuck were you supposed to get home now?

"Hey gorgeous."

The voice all but pulls you from your thoughts and to the right, dragging you away from the harsh stare you were given the unhelpful bartender. When your eyes fall to the person who had sidled up beside you, a small sigh slips out, your eyes rolling in their sockets.

"Wow," the redhead responds, easily picking up on your bad attitude. She holds her hands up. "Sorry to offend."

You look back at the rockstar, at Natasha. It seems she's found you again in a moment where you want nothing more than to find a way out of there. Though despite your frustration, you know it's not her fault, that she isn't the one controlling the universe so adamant on your downfall tonight. So, you force yourself to soften your expression as you turn back to her. "No. No, I'm sorry," you say, shaking your head slightly. "It's just- I'm trying to get a cab home but apparently their phone is broken." You gesture towards the bar, displaying the utter uselessness of its bartender with the look on your face.

Natasha seems to take a little amusement in your frustration, the faintest of a smile appearing on her face. "You ain't got your own phone to call a cab?" The mobile is received from your pocket, quickly held up by your hand as you flash the dead device to the redhead opposite. She sighs, tilting her head back. "Ah, I see. What about that boyfriend of yours? Couldn't he call you a cab?"

You're a little surprised to hear her mention that piece of information, even if you'd only shared it with her minutes before in the bathroom stall. The mention of his presence is enough to drag the long sigh from your chest as you stare down at the bar. "Not when he's the reason I need one."

"Alright, I'm gonna need you to elaborate on that one."

Her words draw your eyes back to her, briefly grazing over her face before you respond. "He left with his friends. Gone off to some other bar. Told me to phone a cab home."

Natasha lets out a breath of air. "Dickhead." You watch her as she takes a sip from the beer in her hand, trying not to notice the way her lips look pressed against the top of the bottle. "You know, a pretty girl like you shouldn't have to wait around on assholes like that."

And then there's that same heat you felt in the bathroom, creeping up your cheeks unwelcome. You turn away again as you shrug in an attempt to hide it. "He's not that bad-" "Sure," Natasha cuts you off before you can even finish your explanation. In truth, you weren't even sure what else you were going to say, what redeeming qualities you could draw about the boy who'd left you stranded in the city to go get drunk with his friends. Instead you just turn to the woman sat beside you, only shallowly realising how she is in fact a minor celebrity and that a lot of the people around were probably looking over at the pair of you. But when Natasha smiles and leans in, it's like it all disappears. "Alright, lemme tell you this. You let me buy you one drink and I'll phone you a taxi home."

You look back at the rockstar sat across from you, letting her words settle into your mind. This close you can once again tell just how beautiful she is, how any girl in this room would pay good money to be where you are right now. But you don't want to be that kind of girl, the kind that chases after someone just because they have a little bit of fame. Nevertheless, there is something about the redhead that draws you in. Maybe it's the layers of piercings you can see stacking her ears, or the patchwork of tatoos lining her exposed arms. Whatever it is, something about her is making you want to follow whatever she says. Furthermore, her offer is one that is rather too good to refuse. After a moment, you sigh as you nod your head. "Fine. One drink." Natasha Romanoff smirks, calling the bartender over almost immediately with two fingers. It's the same tilted smile you had seen her passing you from across the stage, though now you can take notice of the small dimple that appears on her cheek when those lips pull taught. Everything about this encounter was setting something alight inside you but you couldn't quite put your finger on it.

When your drink finally arrives - curtesy of a different bartender - you decidedly join the rockstar on the stools lined up against the bar. The leather is sticky and uncomfortable against the exposed skin under your skirt. Still, you ignore it as you look over at the redhead to your right, slowly taking a sip of the cocktail you'd ordered as you get the opportunity to voice the question that's been on your mind for the last couple hours. "Why were you looking at me on stage?"

"Why'd you think?" Natasha smirks the widest you've seen all night, licking her bottom lip as she turns to you. "I thought maybe you and I could have some fun but…you had to be little miss taken." You try not to react to her words, or moreover the way her eyes drag themselves over your body, particularly your exposed thighs against the red leather of the barstool. "Maybe we could still have some fun yet tho, hm?" Natasha finishes, her eyes returning to yours. Even in the dim light of the bar you can tell they're blown out, pupils wide as they drink you in.

You let out a sigh. "Listen, in the nicest way possible, I don't actually really know who you are and I don't know about this whole thing you're doing, if it's normal but-"

"Wait," Natasha cuts you off. "You were in the front row and don't know who I am?"

You feel a little bashful as you shrug your shoulders. "I mean- I kinda do, I guess. I mean- I've listened to a few of your band's songs but I'm not like- a fan or anything."

"Not a fan?" Natasha breathes, reaching to take another sip of her drink with an amused expression. "So tell me, how does a girl who's not a fan end up hugging the stage all night?"

You take a sip of your own cocktail before you reply. "My boyfriend bought the tickets."

"Ah there it is," Natasha nods. "The boyfriend yet again." She turns in her chair, legs moving to dangle off the side. "You know, he's not really our target demographic."

You know exactly what she's talking about, almost too quickly. It was rather obvious to you that Crimson Coven was not a band trying to attract straight men, even if they did flock to them over their members' good looks. "Yeah, I tried to tell him that," you reply, sipping on your drink.

One of the redhead's brows raises, eyes tracing over your face. "What's that one saying?" she ask, swirling the bottle in her hands. "Takes one to know one?" You feel the saliva pool in your throat as she looks back at you, smirk wider than ever. Swallowing harshly, you take a rather big swig of your drink, trying your best to ignore the way you can hear your heartbeat in your ears. Natasha simply breathes out a laugh. "I think you're maybe not as you first seem, little lady." Right then there's a look that passes between you, your eyes wide and questioning, Natasha's dark and hooded. Then her hand is landing on your thigh, just above your knee where the skin is exposed. Her thumb strokes back and forth delicately as she licks her lips. "Why don't you tell me your name?"

There's a strange bubbling inside your stomach, a flutter to your heart. You want to turn and walk right out of there, ditch the rockstar in front of you and try your luck hailing a cab on the street. But part of you notices the shiver her touch sends up your thigh, how her skin is warm against yours in just the right kind of way, how despite your circumstances, just how amazing this moment feels. "Y/N," you reply eventually, swallowing your first instincts to the warm pit of your stomach.

"Y/N," the redhead repeats, rolling the name over her tongue. "I'm-"

"Natasha. I know."

She seems taken aback by your quick answer, cutting off her sentence before she can finish. She frowns slightly back at you. "I thought you said you didn't."

Now it's your turn to raise your brow. "I said I wasn't a fan. Not that I didn't know your name."

"I see," Natasha replies, her voice laced with amusement. She smiles to herself as she sips her beer, turning back with a wide grin. "You know, I've never slept with a Y/N before."

"You sleep with a lot of girls then?"

"I've done the rounds," Natasha shrugs. The nonchalant nature of her reply is enough to have you passing her a displeased look across the bar. She raises her brow, looking back at you. "What? You want me to lie to you? Tell you I'm the virgin mary?"

You want to laugh in response but hold yourself back, entirely aware of the game Natasha is trying to play. "So...what?" you draw out, playing with the rim of your glass. "You want me to be one of your new collectibles?"

"Well maybe if I get lucky."

You turn back to the smirking redhead. "I wouldn't buy a lottery ticket."

And she laughs, like really laughs right into her drink before she takes a sip. When she places it back on the bar, she shakes her head as she turns to look at you with a smirk. "You know most girls flock to my side," she says, raising a brow. "Asking for autographs or pictures."

"I already told you. I don't know that much about your band."

"You're here though, aren't you?" Natasha replies. "You must know some things."

She isn't entirely wrong. Sure, you knew of the things your boyfriend has endlessly droned on about. About Wanda being the one who named the band. Or about Carol and her cat, or Maria and her brief military background. You even knew about Natasha, little sparks in your memory of her coming from Russia or her hair being blonde at some point. It's all stored in the backlog of your brain, hours of knowledge you'd spent years sorting into the dusty compartments of your mind you never cared to look at. Still, there's something now about speaking to Natasha in real time, not hearing about your boyfriend's idealised version of her that feels a little different. Things here feel a little more real.

You don't acknowledge Natasha's question as you take a sip from your drink. "You want me to ask for your autograph?" you ask as you place the glass back down. "Is that it?"

The answer that follows is in such a low register you can barely hear it over the music. "I think we both know what I want."

You look back at Natasha, at her dazzling smirk and messy red hair. "Well I'm sorry to disappoint but I'm not your girl." A tight smile appears on your lips as you gaze out into the sea of bodies across the room. "Why don't you go find someone else?"

"Why would I when you're the prettiest thing in here?" Natasha's response is quick, almost as quick as the way her eyes divert to to rest if your body. "Hell, I'd go as far as to say you're the prettiest girl I've ever seen."

"Listen," you sigh. "I appreciate the flattery but-"

"I ain't fucking around if that's what you think," Natasha says quickly, cutting you off. The look in her eye as she scans your face shows how genuine her words feel. "You caught my eye the second I stepped on stage. You're fucking gorgeous, angel. Forgive me if it's a crime to want to see more."

Despite your better instincts, you let out a laugh into your glass. No one has ever been this forward with you before, never complimented you so much to the point you can feel the heat of their words on your skin. Hell, not even Tyler was ever this keen to get you into bed. And you know you shouldn't like it, shouldn't fall for the rockstar's methods, but you can't help but enjoy the praise just a little bit.

That feeling is soon quashed however when your temple gives a sudden jolt of pain. You wince slightly, reminded of the too-loud atmosphere you'd spent the last few hours in. The alcohol probably wasn't helping much either.

"What's wrong?"

You're a little surprised when Natasha speaks, unaware of her having noticed your small flinch at the pain. You simply shake your head in response, smiling back at her. "Nothing. I'm fine. It's just a headache."

"You know," the rockstar replies quickly. "It's cooler backstage. Quieter too." You must give her a look laced with poison because she holds her hands up in defence once again, though this time smirking back at you. "Hey, Im just saying."

Despite your glare, you're still interested in the redhead sat opposite you. It's like even with her forward approach, you can't help but be drawn to some part of her. You try to avoid the smile that creeps back on to your face as you look back into her eyes. "Does this routine usually work for you?"

Natasha chuckles to herself before leaning in to speak. "Honey, by now I usually have a girl screaming my name as she rides my face."

It's now you're entirely glad of the dimness in the room, hiding the flushed state that rises in your throat and heats up your cheeks. You can feel yourself getting worked up by Natasha's bold statement, unsure of what to do with yourself or how to respond. In doubt of yourself, you simply reach for the cocktail glass in front of you and down the rest of the liquid. It burns a little going down but you find you don't mind it. Anything to take away from the feeling you can recognise brewing in your stomach.

You can just about feel Natasha's smirk as much as you can see it, pressing into the side of your head as she watches you become flustered, clearly enjoying the effect she is having on you. "Here," she says, adjusting herself in the chair. "Let me buy you another one."

You turn to meet her eye, holding it harshly. "I said one drink."

That smirk remains for a long while as Natasha just looks back at you, not answering for a few passing moments. It even stays as she lifts one of her arms, arching it so it comes to rest on the back of your barstool, officially caging in your conversation. "Alright," she drawls, her body leaning in towards yours. "Look at it like this. I can buy you another drink and we can talk some more. Maybe think about heading backstage, get you somewhere quieter. Or..." The redhead licks her licks, pausing as she angles her head. "I can phone you that cab now and you can mope in the backseat till you get home. Then, stumble into your cold apartment alone and just wait for your drunk boyfriend to get home and sidle up next to you in bed."

The blatant look on Natasha's face is a good representation of how you feel about the whole situation she's proposed. The thought of dealing with Tyler later is enough to have you rolling your eyes, already imagining his drunken state reaching out for you and wiping wet kisses along your neck, stinking of booze and the remaining perfume of whatever girl he's been chatting up at the bar. It's almost like a routine you've both fallen into, simply ignoring it every time until without fail, it'll happen again.

And maybe tonight you're done with it. Maybe tonight is the night you don't want to have to deal with him anymore, to hear him talk about himself for hours on end like you don't even exist. It's partially the thought of finally letting that go that pulls you in the direction you choose, but it's also largely down to the way you can feel Natasha pressing in closer, her face moving just inches from yours as her lips press up against your ear. Somehow, it's like you can even feel her smirking as her lips barely graze the skin beside your face. "If you come with me, I promise you won't regret it."

Maybe it is that that finally does it for you, the shiver of goosebumps running down your spine as you still feel the redhead's hand grazing your thigh. Maybe it's that or maybe it's the heat finally getting to you, or the alcohol hitting your head. It could be any of those, or maybe combination of them all. Whatever your brain decides to settle on as a reason, it doesn't really matter because within seconds, you're calling over the bartender for another drink, allowing yourself to fall into whatever rabbit hole Natasha Romanoff is offering you.

"I knew I'd like you, Y/N," the redhead whispers close, grinning widely at your acceptance. You don't say anything in response until the bartender is placing your vodka coke on the bar. And even then, just as you reach for the glass, Natasha is diverging any words you may have spoken as she grabs hold of your hand. "Come on," she calls and it's a challenge not to spill any of the drink as the redhead quickly begins to pull you from the bar.

"Natasha, wait-" you try to respond, not entirely sure of where this might be going, but the star is quickly cutting you off as she presses her lips together.

"Shh," she drags, looking back at you over her shoulder. "It's okay, angel. It's better back here, I promise."

Something in you gives in because you let her drag you through the crowds of the room, trying desperately not to spill the beverage in your hands. You notice on the way a few recognising faces that glance at Natasha, then almost turn a little sour as they fall onto you. You only get the chance to wonder about their jealousy for a few moments before Natasha has pulled you away from everyone entirely, slipping you through a door into a quiet corridor. And then, after turning a few corners and dodging a few stacks of equipment crates, she pulls you through another door into an entirely empty room.

It's only then does the redhead finally release your hand, letting you roam free as she crosses to sit on one of the sofas positioned within the room. Beside them, there's stacks of band equipment, most of which you don't quite recognise. The red guitar on the stand is easy, and the set of drumsticks lying on a table, but the speakers and wires sit in a valley of other items you probably couldn't name if you tried.

There are scatterings of personality throughout the space; a leather jacket thrown over a couch, an ashtray of old cigarettes on a coffee table, some cards laying close beside it. And for a moment you wonder if this is what Natasha Romanoff's life is like. Backrooms full of band equipment, roaring crowds that call out her name. An endless supply of money and booze and cigarettes and girls. It's so so far away from the reality that you live that it can't help but be a little fascinating, this room just a little window into the life of a true rockstar.

The one thing you do very quickly notice however, is the main luxury that the exclusive backstage room seems to have; air conditioning. Beautifully cool air floods your body as soon as the door closes behind you, your headache already cowering back in the quiet atmosphere. You just can't help but let out a long, appreciative sigh at the respite from the hot, humid air outside.

"Told ya." Natasha's voice calls as you see her throw herself down on one of the sofas, so easily slipping into her own space backstage.

You simply roll your eyes as you take a sip of the drink in your hand, surprisingly intact after lugging it across the venue. "So, where are your other friends?" you ask, looking more so at the room full of band things than the member sat on the couch across from you.

Natasha sighs, sitting back as her eyes drag over you. "Probably in rooms close by hoping to get somewhere like me."

"And where exactly is that?" you ask, feet wandering across the opposite side of the room from the redhead. She smirks back at you, watching your every movement.

"Why don't you tell me, gorgeous?"

You can feel yourself smile, finally allowing Natasha's flirting get to you. But instead of replying to her question, you simply run your fingers over the red instrument propped up on the stand beside you. "How long have you played guitar?"

"Fifteen years," Natasha replies quickly, unwavering at your change of topic.

You nod to yourself, looking down at the instrument. "Wow." There isn't anything you've probably committed to for that long, besides maybe school. You take a sip of your drink as you turn to lean on a table against the wall, now facing the still sitting redhead across the way. "How'd you meet the other girls?"

"It's a long story."

You hum in response, waiting just a moment for her to elaborate before you realise she's leaving it up to your own imagination. The two of you hold eye contact as you bring your drink up to your mouth, letting the bubbles pop on your lips as you drink before smoothing it over with your tongue. Theres a specific look in Natasha's eye you can't seem to recognise, almost as if she wants to eat you right where you stand. That smirk widens as you take another sip, your tongue yet again swiping over your lips and the sweet residual soda lingering there. It's then Natasha finally speaks, nodding her head in your direction. "Come here."

And you do. Placing your drink down on the table before pressing yourself up from it, you slowly make your way across the room to where Natasha sits. As you come to stand between her open legs, the rockstar sits up, her body straightening and her hands coming to rest on the sides of your hips. You let them explore a little as Natasha moves, forgoing the layer of your leather jacket and pressing directly beneath the hem on your shirt. Her fingertips feel calloused as they brush the skin beneath it, years of playing guitar coming to create the most amazing sensation as she brushes against your body.

"God, your skin is so soft," Natasha says lowly, almost to herself. It sounds like she's truly mesmerised, her entire being taken over by the feeling of you against her skin. And perhaps some part of you feels it too because without knowing what truly compels you, you find yourself lowering your body down into her lap. Natasha smirks as you come to rest upon her thighs, knees caging either side of her body. She glances down at the way your skirt rides up, only leaving little to the imagination of what lies beneath. Her hands come to rest there, stroking the soft skin of your upper thighs as you lift your arms above her shoulders, letting them fall behind her head as you stare into her eyes. From here, in the new lighting of the backstage room, you can see the sea of green that shrouds her pupils.

For a while you two just drink each other in, your bodies comfortably close as your eyes trace one another. Then, eventually Natasha is talking once more as her fingers reach out towards you. "What's this?"

You follow her eyeline down to your chest, watching the way her fingers have found the crystal hanging around your neck. "Aventurine," your reply.

Natasha smiles as she looks back at your face. "Wanda's the crystal lover so you'll have to enlighten me. What does this one do?"

You shrug a little. "It's brings a few things...Hope, optimism, prosperity. Mostly luck."

The redhead raises a brow as her voice finds that playful tone. "Luck?"

"Mhm," you hum, finding yourself leaning in just slightly closer. "Stone of opportunity."

"So you're telling me it's because of this little rock that I wound up with a pretty girl sat on my lap?"

You hold back a laugh as you search Natasha's smirking face. "Don't call it a rock."

"No?"

You shake your head, humming. "I think it offends them."

The two of you are pressed even closer now, your arms coming crossed behind Natasha's head as she pulls you in. Her voice is almost a whisper when she speaks. "I know some things I could do to offend a lot of people."

The breath you release is shaky as you feel Natasha's hand reach up to cusp your face. She holds your chin, finger so delicate across your skin before she reaches to trace your bottom lip, just momentarily pulling it down with her thumb.

And it's then, with her face pressed so close to yours, green eyes almost black with lust, that you finally let everything go and you lean in. The first kiss is electrifying. Like that first strum of a chord when the guitar kicks in in a song, the bass just rattling your bones and setting your nerves on fire.

Natasha's lips are beautifully soft against yours, a contrast to the harshness of her fingertips you can feel pressing into the side of your face. She tastes like cherry lip gloss and cigarette smoke, sweet but hazy to your senses. The redhead quickly takes a grip of your jaw, angling your head just right so she can drive the kiss deeper. You don't complain as she begins to domineer your mouth, tongue sliding across yours with the skills of a professional.

When you both finally pull back for air, you can only wonder why you forced yourself to wait for this so long. Her touch is like nothing you've ever felt before, your entire body simply set alight with a hunger for her. You look down at the redhead for a moment and Natasha smirks devilishly up at you, eyes blown wide before she's pulling you back in. Your hands hold the back of her neck as your lips collide once more, pulling her in as close to you as you can in a desperate need for more.

Natasha's fingers dance up your arms before you can feel her begin to press the leather jacket away from your shoulders. You move your hands to let her remove it, only hearing it crash to the floor as you try desperately to hold your lips against the rockstar's. A low whine erupts in your throat as you feel her pull away seconds later, your bruised mouth chasing hers.

But Natasha just lets herself grin as her hands caress your body, deft fingers running up and down your sides. Only moments later, she's reaching beneath the material of your shirt to pull it over your head. Her breaths are heavy as her eyes trace your exposed body, almost fixated on the swell of your breasts in the lacy balconette bra cladding your chest.

"Fuck," the redhead says under her breath. Her hands come up to caress your tits, squeezing them tenderly through the material as your own pants flow from your chest. Her lips connect soon after, kissing and nipping at the skin of your cleavage with delicate precision. You let your head fall back as the redhead pays attention to your chest, simultaneously sucking and playing with your tits with her mouth and hands, sending rolls of pleasure flooding down your spine.

When one of her hands slips up the bare skin of your back, her lips disconnect as she meets your eye. Her fingers play with the clasp of your bra as you look down at her. "Can I?" she whispers, face so close to your own.

"Uh huh," you reply, nodding your head quickly. It's only seconds later you can feel the release against your chest, Natasha's skilled hands making quick work of the clasp and tossing your brassiere to the side. Her attention is straight back on you as she reveals your bare chest, kissing the previously hidden skin as she murmurs soft praises into the flesh. "God, you're so beautiful."

Your fingers find a place running through her hair as she continues to play with your tits, red fibres intertwined with your painted nails. A string of softer sounds elicits from your throat as Natasha's fingers find your nipples, pinching and pulling at the hardened buds with just the perfect amount of pressure.

"Natasha," you breath out heavily, holding back a moan as her teeth replace her hands playing with your chest.

"Yeah baby?" the redhead responds, looking up at you but not removing her face from where it rests.

The look on her face only adds to the pool you can feel forming between your legs, all down to her touch and copious amounts of flirting. You want to see more of her, want to run your hands across her body. Not entirely confident enough to word it, you settle for a whine as you tug at her shirt. Thankfully, it seems Natasha is apt at picking up your signals because she smirks widely before reaching to untuck her shirt and pull it over her head.

As the rockstar tosses it somewhere across the room, you can't help but stare at the sight she's unveiled. Her tits sit beautifully in a red bralette, perked perfectly with pink nipples visible through the mesh material. Every part of you feels totally enamoured by her look, eyes unable to peel themselves away from her heavenly cleavage on display.

It's in your admiration, you find yourself distracted, not noticing the way the rockstar's hand has slipped up your skirt until you suddenly feel her touch against your underwear. A gasp escapes you as her fingers graze over your clothed core, most definitely feeling the way her tactics have saturated the material. The redhead makes eye contact with you, pupils dark. "This okay?" she whispers, voice as thick as honey.

It takes all your efforts to breathe out a response, entirely worked up by her touch. "Yeah," you reply, nodding quickly. By this point you would let her do whatever she wanted if it would soothe ache between your legs.

Natasha smiles widely as she hears your response. "Lift your hips for me," she says, playing a chaste kiss to your collar bone. You do ask she asks, rising up to your knees on the sides of the couch. It gives Natasha the room to hook her fingers underneath the sides of your underwear, pulling them down painfully slowly as she looks into your eyes. When she finally manages to slide them over your legs, she tosses them somewhere off to the side before pulling you back down to sit on her lap.

Just then, a sudden thought crosses your mind. "I've-I've never done this before," you stutter out. "With a woman, I mean."

You wonder for a moment if Natasha will be put off by your inexperience, but that thought is quickly extinguished when the redhead only smirks wider. "That's alright," she replies. "Cause I happen to be somewhat of an expert."

You let out the barest of a laugh at her words, letting the anxiety flood out of your mind. Natasha's smirk holds as you feel her hand creep up your skirt again, dancing over the delicate skin of your inner thigh. "Relax, sweetheart," she husks. "I got you now."

Her fingers move to again run over your centre, this time touching your bare skin as you feel her fingers trace your soaked folds. She collects the wetness pooling from your centre before dragging it up to your clit, spreading it as she slowly begins to circle the bud. A moan slips as she presses a little harder, her fingers perfectly pooling pleasure between your legs.

"That's it, baby," Natasha purrs, face close to your ear. "Let me hear all those pretty noises."

You feel your teeth plunge into your bottom lip as another moan slips from your throat. Natasha's touch is so teasingly slow you can't help but buck your hips a little into her hand. "Please-" you whine, desperate for her to do more.

Thankfully, Natasha obliges and another moan drawls from your chest as you feel her middle finger plunge into your core. Your muscles tense around her, pulling her finger in further as your face comes to burrow into the redhead's shoulder.

"Uh uh," Natasha sounds from above you. "Let me see your face, pretty girl." Her finger find your chin, directing your gaze back up until your eyes meet with hers."There you go."

She smiles widely as she leans in for a kiss, once again enveloping your lips in her sweet, sultry taste. The two of you press deeply into another, noses brushing together. You can feel Natasha's finger slowly begin to move inside you, teasing your walls as you whine against her mouth. Your lips only disconnect when you feel Natasha add another finger to the one pumping inside you, your face falling as a gasp sounds from your chest.

She works almost painfully slow, her fingers pulling virtually all the way out before steadily bottoming inside you once again. Each time, her fingertips press against that spot inside you, just softly enough for you to barely feel it. Chasing more of a high, your hips begin to rut against her hand. "Natasha," you whine, voice long and drawn out at her teasing attitude. Some part of you wonders if it's some form of payback for letting it take so long to get you in this position.

The rockstar places a soft kiss to the side of your neck before she's whispering in your ear, hot breath fanning out across the skin. "Shh, just ride my fingers," she says, smiling against you. You feel her free hand come to rest upon your hip, slowly guiding you to rut harder against her hand. Each time you do, you feel her fingers curl into that spot inside you, sending soft sighs of pleasure cascading from your lips.

"'Atta girl," Natasha husks, continuing to guide your movements with her palm. Your hands come to rest upon her shoulders, holding yourself up as you rock back and forth. The redhead's fingers slide in and out of you with each motion, the sounds of the wetness between your legs joined by the moans slipping from your tongue.

Natasha watches with wide eyes as you grind against her hand, fingers gripping into her shoulders as your pleasure grows. She lets her digits curl inside you, releasing sweet, sudden sounds from your lips. Her thumb moves to brush against your clit, the hardened surface sending shocks of pleasure through you each time you rock your hips.

"Fuck baby," Natasha says lowly, watching you practically fuck yourself on her lap. "Are you gonna make a mess?" she drawls. "You gonna make a mess all over my fingers for me?"

"Uh huh," you respond, barely managing to nod your head as you can feel that coil building tighter and tighter in your stomach. Natasha's touch is like electric to your skin, each thrust building to a crescendo at your core.

"Come on, angel," the redhead whispers. "Show me just how pretty you are when you cum."

Her words, alongside one last thrust of your hips is enough to send you toppling over that edge. Your moan is drawn out loudly as you feel yourself come undone, eyes slamming shut as you grip hold of Natasha's shoulders. Your body arches in to her, letting Nat take advantage of your chest with her mouth once more as her fingers ride you through your orgasm.

"Fuck," you breathe, finally starting to come down from your high. You open your eyes once more to see Nat smirking up at you, letting go of your nipple between her teeth as both of her hands now rest on your waist. As your mind clears, you let yourself begin to fall back down on to her lap, but when you accidentally land directly on her thigh, you feel a shock sent through your core. You wince, immediately lifting yourself back up at the sensitivity.

But Natasha seems to have other plans. "Shh, angel. It's okay," she murmurs as her hands grip harsher on to the skin of your waist. She begins to push you back down, eliciting a gasp as your sensitive core connects again with her leg. You squirm a little in the position, fighting ever so slightly against Natasha as she tries to drop your full weight on to her. "Just sit on my thigh," she drawls, hands guiding you down. "Just like that, there you go."

The position hikes your tight skirt all the up to your waist, completely exposing your cunt as it comes to rest against the bare skin of Natasha's thigh. You're pathetically wet against her, cum still dripping out your core from your previous orgasm. But if anything, Natasha only seems to enjoy the way you soak her skin, smirking up at you as her hands begin to direct you once again. Her movements force you to rock back and forth slowly, your slick coating the skin of her leg beneath you. The wave of pleasure that comes from the movement sends a moan tipping out your mouth, your head falling back as your clit throbs with each brush against Natasha's thigh.

"Does that feel good, baby?" the redhead beneath you husks, still guiding your movements. It takes all your focus to nod your head. "Mhm?" Natasha questions, her voice purely laced with amusement. "You're such a good girl. Just keep grinding on me, just like that."

You feel the rockstar's hands disengage from your waist but your movement continues, encouraged by her words and praise. You watch between fluttering eyelashes as Natasha reaches to take off her bra, tossing it aside and revealing her perfect tits to you. Then, you see as her hands moves to undo her shorts, opening each button before her fingers disappear beneath the waistband of the black denim.

You hold back a whine as you see her face contort, only imagining what her fingers may be doing under the material of those shorts. "God, you're making me so wet," the redhead breathes, reaching up to place a kiss on to your pouting lips. You release a whine into her, muffled by her tongue lapping over your own. "Such a pretty girl," Natasha mewls when she pulls away, one hand reaching up to caress your jaw. "So pretty just for me. Wanna see how wet I am for you?"

You feel yourself nodding as you look into her green eyes, turned even more on by the concept of Natasha getting off just by looking at you. The redhead removes her fingers from beneath her shorts before bringing them up to your face, letting you view the soaked digits momentarily before pressing them up to your lips. You take in her fingers welcomely, humming around them as you let the taste of her coat your tongue.

"Fuck, you're so hot," Natasha husks, sounding about as love-drunk as you felt sucking on her fingers. She lets you lap them up a moment longer before pulling them from your lips with a pop. Then, you watch as she dips them back below her shorts, moaning softly at the contact it makes on her hidden centre.

Your eyes feel almost transfixed on the hand concealed beneath the material of Natasha's black shorts. The only true indication of whatever her fingers are doing comes from the delicate hums and sighs that escape the redhead's lips. The sight alone is enough to make you grind your cunt harder against her thigh, desperately trying to ease the heat growing there.

The rockstar notices your attempts becoming more determined, fingers clutching at her shoulders as your own needy mewls drip from your tongue. "Are you gonna cum on my thigh baby?" she asks, smirking widely.

You grind faster against her, trying desperately to chase your high but it feels like it's never coming. "I can't," you whine, hopelessly rutting atop of her.

"You can," Natasha nods.

"Mm-hm," you hum, shaking your head. Your fingers grip harder into her skin, the feeling between your legs never quite reaching that peak you're seeking out.

"You can, baby," Natasha replies quickly, voice assertive. "Look, just like this." You feel her hands come to rest upon your ass, fingers gripping into the soft flesh before she begins to rock you once more. With her guidance, you follow a more structured pattern, your clit brushing perfectly against her thigh with each rock of your hips. "There you go," the redhead hums, watching your face screw up in pleasure at the newfound rhythm. Moans begin to cascade from your lips in desperate tones as each new thrust sends you closer to that edge. The way Natasha guides you sends perfect waves of pleasure through your entire body, your hands pressing into her shoulders to try ground yourself in the high. When you feel her fingers join in on the equation, your cries turn ever more lewd, her hand placed so that your clit brushes directly over her calloused tips each time you rut your hips.

"Come on baby girl," you hear Natasha husk, her face close to yours. "Cum for me. You can do it. Cum all over my thigh."

One more thrust sends you hurtling over the edge, screaming out as you feel a gush of warmth flooding onto Natasha's leg. Your arms wrap around her head, anchoring yourself in as you ride out your high, mewling choked moans into the redhead's ear. Natasha guides you through the orgasm once more, still slowly guiding your hips to an eventual stop. When you finally emerge from the crook of her neck, you're panting.

The rockstar admires the way your chest rises and falls, the green crystal still hanging around your neck, nestled in the valley of your breasts. "God, you're so fucking perfect," she husks, drinking in your figure. "I could get addicted to the way you look falling apart for me."

You don't say anything in response as you still try to calm yourself from the high, head feeling fuzzy as you look back at the redhead. She smirks widely as she watches you, utterly obsessed with the way you look sat on top of her, eyes glazed over in residual pleasure.

A single one of her fingers comes to swipe up some of the cum you've left slathered on her thigh, purposely brushing slightly over the top of your bruised clit just to watch you squirm a little before bringing her hand up to her own mouth. She practically laps up the stickiness coating her finger, humming lowly as your cum trickles down her throat. "God," she breathes, letting her finger fall. "I wish I had my strap so I could fuck that sweet little pussy of yours." You whine on top of her, still too inebriated to form a real response. Natasha only chuckles at your intoxication. "Would you like that, pretty girl? Like me to fuck you till you can't even think anymore?"

"Uh huh," you nod, already fantasying the image inside your head.

Natasha laughs again, tilting her head as she watches your face. "You're so cum-drunk right now I think you're already half way there. Isn't that right?" A low sound in the back of your throat is the only response, heightened when you feel Natasha's lips connect with your neck. She sucks as the soft flesh, glazing over the burn with her tongue. She stays there a moment, clearly leaving a mark on your skin that you have no idea how you'll cover up tomorrow. But quite frankly, you don't even care.

When Natasha pulls away, she notices how that glaze has left your eyes, your consciousness returning finally after your last climax. She smirks, eyeing you with that mischievous look as her face comes to rest near your cleavage, placing a chaste kiss to your sternum before looking back up. "You want me to empty that pretty head of yours some more?"

You're barely able to focus on her words as she lets her tongue circle around your nipple. In the end, you don't answer her question, simply whine as her teeth tease at the hardened bud. "Tasha-"

The nickname slips from your tongue almost too easily, your brain not even recognising it. Natasha, however, does, and she can't believe how amazing it sounds coming from your mouth. "Fuck," she whispers, coming face to face with you again. She looks into your eyes for a long moment before she begins to shift her body, turning yours with it. "Lie down for me, baby," she murmurs, twisting your body to lay down on the couch beneath you. "Just like that."

You let her manoeuvre you to the perfect position, arching slightly as the cold leather of the couch hits your back. Lying back, you watch as Natasha leans over you, placing a few quick kisses to your neck before travelling lower. When she reaches your waistline, her fingers work to unzip the skirt still clinging to your waist. She makes light work of undoing it before beginning to pull it down your legs, placing kisses on your warm flesh as she goes. When the article is tossed aside, the rockstar begins to unfasten the boots still tied to your feet. She removes them quickly, laying them aside and soon letting her own join them.

Then, you watch in awe as the redhead slowly slips her fingers into the waistband of her own shorts, almost making a show out of it as she slips the garment down. Shorts and underwear go at the same time as Natasha strips herself in front of you, smirking as she notices the way you stare. Your eyes never leave her as her body moves back towards the couch, coming to a rest above you as her knees straddle your waist. "You're so hot," you all but mumble, mesmerised by the sight in front of you.

Natasha simply chuckles lowly at your response. "Give me your hand," she says, reaching out towards your wrist. You let her take hold, watching intently as she guides you between her legs. She runs your fingers methodically through her folds, gasping quietly as the touch. She's soaked, slick coating your digits, probably residual from where she had been touching herself earlier. "You feel that? It's all for you, baby." Natasha hums as she guides your hand through her core. You can't help but let your own little noises slip, feeling just how wet she is beneath your touch. Your fingers curl at the ends, dipping into Natasha's centre before you pull them up to rub at her swollen clit. "Ah, fuck," the star moans, pinching her eyes closed. She lets you play with her a bit longer before she eventually pulls your hand away, letting it drop to your side. Instead, she reaches the hand she was using to guide you under your right thigh, squeezing into the flesh gently. "Lift your leg for me," she says, pulling upwards on your thigh.

You let her manoeuvre your leg, holding it up to the side while she adjusts her own body. You watch as one of her legs hooks over your waist, angling herself so that her core is directly above your own. When she sinks down to meet you, a lewd gasp sounds from your mouth, the new sensation electric against your skin. Natasha's cunt is wet against your own, accentuated by the cum that sill coats your sensitive folds.

"Oh my god," you breathe out, entirely in awe at the new feeling of the redhead against you. The star smirks down at you, letting your legs fall back into a relaxed position as she anchors herself to your hips with her hands. When she begins to move against you, the loud moans that escape you coat the entire room.

Her clit brushes beautifully against your own as Natasha rocks her hips back and forth, the noises of your combined wetness thick in the air. "Fuck, you feel so good," the redhead moans out, her own breath becoming shallow as she rolls against you. It doesn't mean that she lets her guard down entirely though, quickly noticing when your head lolls to the side and your eyes squeeze shut. "Eyes on me, beautiful," she directs, reaching out to grasp your face.

You let her turn your chin as you open your eyes back up, drinking in the sight in front of you. Natasha rocks back and forwards against you with a perfect rhythm, her tits bouncing with each new thrust. Natasha sees you watching and reaches for your hands, guiding them up to plump flesh of her chest. You squeeze roughly, savouring the delicate moans that spill from the rockstar's lips.

"God, you're so hot," the redhead murmurs between heavy breaths. "I just can't get enough of you. Maybe I'll just have to bring you along on tour with me, let you be my little groupie."

You moan loudly, not only from the way Natasha's cunt grinds over your swollen clit, but also at the teasing voice and notion of her words. Natasha smirks down at you. "You like that idea, huh?" she husks. "You wanna be my little groupie who I fuck like this after all my shows?"

You don't have the ability to form a response to her, merely putting all of your energy into chasing your combined high. Your back arches off the cold leather of the couch as you try your best to rock your hips against the rockstar's, listening to the sound of your wet cunts grinding desperately against one another. When a particular thrust bumps across your clit, a whine sounds low in the back of your throat. "Tasha-"

The nickname does wonders once again in Natasha's mind, sounding so sweet lacing your tongue. "Fuck," she murmurs, trying to keep up her pace. "I want you to say my name like that when you cum baby, okay?"

You nod weakly, chest heaving. "Good girl." Natasha bucks slightly as your clits brush over one another, her legs twitching by your sides. "Fuck."

The two of you continue to rock against one another, your moans harmonising together as you both climb closer to your climax. Your hands rest upon Natasha's full thighs, gripping for support as the pleasure rolls over you in waves. She clasps at your waist, feeling the thin layer of perspiration coating your skin.

"Fuck," you breathe out. "I think I'm gonna-"

"Cum for me," Natasha finishes, thrusting into you. You do as she says and let that coil loose in your stomach, letting your orgasm shred through you as you all but scream out in pleasure.

"Oh fuck, Tasha."

Her name dripping from your lips sends the redhead over the edge too, rutting against you as she cums hard. "Shit," she mumbles, riding her wave as the combination of your juices blends together and soaks both of your legs.

Both of your bodies tense, movements becoming sloppy as your highs hit. When nearly a minute later, you've both come down from the peak, Natasha slowly untwines your legs from one another. She flops down on the couch beside you, barely enough room for the two of you to lie next to another. For a while you two sit with the combined sounds of your own heavy breaths, both of your bare chests heaving in the warmth of the room.

"Oh my god," you manage to slip out, finally aware of how you've just had the best sex of your life. Nothing could ever compare to what Natasha had just done to you, no other partner ever even coming close to making you cum that hard.

Natasha seeks amusement in your blown out state, clearly enjoying the revelation painted on your face. She rolls her head towards you, her signature smirk making one final appearance. "I told you, you wouldn't regret coming back stage with me."

Your head turns towards her, meeting her widened eyes still dark with lust. You almost want to tell her she's wrong, that all your avoiding earlier had been the right path you go down, but you know it's all bullshit. She was right, there wasn't a single ounce of regret in your bones.

Natasha smiles at your clear agreeance, almost smug in the way she licks her lips. She props herself up on to one arm, leaning over you with those dark emerald eyes. Her fingers come to find the crystal hanging around your neck, rolling the stone between her fingertips as she smiles deeply. Then, she turns back to you, looking as sly as she first had back in that bathroom stall. "Now," she drawls. "About that groupie thing..."

#natasha romanoff #rockstar natasha romanoff #rockstar nat #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fic #band au #✧yana writes

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bi-writes · 1 day

Note

If you have time I am kindly asking for Simon and the teams POV on the arranged marriage fic!! Like why they put that ad out! I also think they’re silly for doing the whole ceremony in their gear ��👈

the arrangement prequel

it wasn't much of a choice. ghost knew this was coming, knew this might happen--disciplinary action from the increasingly...unorthodox ways he was coming back from an op.

one too many times, a capture or kill became looking for the pieces of their target scattered across the field. an accident on the way back to interrogation--he doesn't know how his blade ended up embedded in their mark's throat. he misfired his gun--it's too bad it went straight through that prisoner's forehead.

disobeying without saying no. taking matters into his own hands without exactly defying the rules. ghost had been walking along the boundary line for a long while, and he knew eventually someone would realize the risks he was taking.

it was kate's idea. ghost needed something to chew on, something to satiate the hunger in his bones. a companionship, is what she tells price, but even he knew that was a stretch. anything given to ghost would surely be shredded apart on impact. anything that belongs to him ends up tucked underneath layers of shadows, not to be seen again.

but ghost is the best at what he does. all kate needs is for him to fucking listen once in a while.

when they ride back in the humvee, ghost is fiddling with the chamber of his pistol when price speaks up.

"got somethin' new," he says, looking into the rearview mirror. the sergeants shuffle a little closer to hear him. "new program between CIA and SAS. pilot program, not...exactly routine. but they'd like one of you lot to be the first to participate."

"what is it?"

price clears his throat, "the legality is a grey area. but both parties need to be willing."

"spit it out, cap'n."

"an arrangement of sorts," he says finally. "it's...not a secret 's hard to keep a bird with the things we do...always away, hard to reach. but you're the best at what you do, and i think if you take it seriously, it could be good for one of ya."

soap snorts. "cap'n, ye wanna play matchmaker with us? see if we're worthy of little bonnie spies?"

price snorts, rolling his eyes, "i need you to set an example, is what i need. i need one of you to step forward."

ghost looks up when he says that. his eyes flicker, and he looks at his captain, who keeps his eyes on the road as he drives. he hears what price doesn't say. this is your punishment, he imagines. and you will take it and not say a word, like the lieutenant that you are.

in the dark of his room later that evening, he opens the file with your name typed across the front. CONFIDENTIAL it reads, and he flips the manila folder to spread your profile out onto the desk.

you're smiling in the first photo. it's a headshot, from high school maybe, from college, a pretty photo of you beaming at a camera with a nice background. he eyes your height, weight, measurements, the skills they've identified and the answers to your questions about why you want to participate in the program.

Q: What kind of partner are you looking for? A: Resistant. Unmovable. Loyal.

Q: Why do you want to participate in this program? A: I'm tired of being disappointed.

Q: What are some of the qualities you possess you would like your partner to know about you? A: I'm not afraid of what I don't know.

short answers, straight to the point. affirmative and honest, with no room for interpretation. ghost doesn't need interpretation; he knows what it is you're saying.

when he looks back at your picture, he brings it closer, narrowing his eyes as he studies you. the smile you wear, while beautiful, isn't real. it's a persona, a ruse, a costume that you wear to put the outside world at ease. you understand that a smile makes you agreeable, but he knows, somehow he knows, that there must be a tick that you feel that no one is able to quiet, an anger and a lilt to the soft voice you must speak in that carries the weight of your defiance and your disappointment with everything the world is that you thought it wouldn't be.

ghost isn't told that the program is a lie. you aren't an operative for the CIA, you aren't some kind of spy in need of company. when he reads the rest of your file, he is amused because he knows the rest is made-up bullshit that doesn't apply to you. you are as civilian as they come, but with how well you lie, he wonders if you should be recruited just for that.

with just a little training, he thinks perhaps you might be everything your country needs and more. a little blood wouldn't scare you.

it's weeks later when ghost eyes the date on his calendar. he has marked it with an X, black marker haphazardly traced there to indicate the day. he told price he doesn't want bells and whistles--no music, no men, no party. an unmarked room and his bride is all that is necessary.

he steps outside to smoke a cigarette. he sucks on it gently, blowing it out to the side, and he eyes the car that pulls onto base carefully. when price steps out of the drivers' seat, ghost stubs out the cigarette and turns the corner. he catches a glimpse of a lace veil before he disappears.

and when he steps into the room hours later, your back to him, he can't help the way his pupils dilate and the way his body goes rigid with rage. there you are, standing there, in white silk and lace, your back to him but the picture of elegance and the presence of something honestly deserving.

it is only when he lifts the veil off of your face and sees those eyes that he understands what you are, what you wear.

a façade, a beautiful mask of your own, to cover up the ugly you hold on the inside.

he smiles under the mask when you kiss him over the fabric. because fuck, yes...he doesn't care where you have come from. he doesn't care that they lied about who you are, that they didn't tell him the truth, that in all honesty, they have given you to die and you don't know it--he doesn't care because it worked, at least for him. the finest flesh he has ever set his eyes on. he cannot wait to brand you for what you are worth.

if they meant to punish him for the crimes he has committed, he is sorry. because you are his reward, and there is no hell to pay.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mwii #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty #dark!simon #simon thoughts

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rafesslxt · 2 days

Text

✧.* 𝑴𝑨𝑻𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑶 𝑹𝑰𝑫𝑫𝑳𝑬 𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑪𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵

[ aftercare ] ― he would cuddle you right after and clean you up depending on the mess you two made. I can also imagine him smoking a cigarette next to you If you‘re okay with that and If not he would cuddle you for a while and then stand up to smoke at the window – then coming back for cuddles ofc

[ body part ] ― he is a ass type of man to me. Always has a hand near your booty but also your face ? Like his hands would always stroke your cheeks and he would leave kisses all over it - oh and ofc he LOVES your pussy

[ cum ] ― he‘d go NUTS seeing you covered in it, marking you as his

[ desires ] ― He would go crazy for any kind of sort of begging from you - hearing your whiny voice begging him to do the filthy things to you he loves so much. Teasing him would also he a big turn on for him. Bending over things, accidently brushing your hand over his thigh near his dick

[ experience ] ― HONESTLY i know most of us like to think he‘s experienced and knows what he‘s doing bc he had mich sex before BUT I think a lot of girls would be terrified of him being the dark lord‘s son. So yes he is a natural and knows just what feels good, studying your reactions to his touch all night long but he would not have that much experience

[ first time ] ― Like i said he wouldn‘t sleep around that much so maybe it‘s with his first girlfriend or situationship he has with a girl he likes

[ grooming ] ― he wouldn‘t be very picky about how you groom as long as it‘s not completely out of control - he himself would make sure it‘s always clean and trimmed ? Idk man i never thought of that

[ horny ] Mattheo is a horndog 100%. And she wouldn’t even have to try since he would get a boner from almost everything she does. I think physical touch would be important to him since he never got much of it and also wants to try so much with you so he can win more experience to please you even better.

[ intimacy ] — Depends on what you like - he‘s a pleaser in my head so If you would want soft he would prepper you in kisses and praising words "you‘re doing so good baby i love you so much." but If you‘d like it rough he would dirty talk to you until your eyes roll back and manhandle you "fuck baby you feel my cock inside your belly? M' gonna fuck every other thought out of your head."

[ joker ] ― he could laugh when slmething clumsy happens but otherwise he‘d be more on the serious/passionate side

[ kinks ] ― Mattheo loves seeing u begging as i said but also is into you calling him daddy or sir, anything that makes him feel powerful. A kink he didn‘t know he had was his being sub. It didn‘t happen that often but he‘d enjoy it so much after like a rough week - you taking care of him and not judging but loving his little whimpers - also a little orgasm denial on you

[ locations ] ― literally anywhere - he would not give a single fuck If someone saw you two fucking as long as he can shield or hide your naked body - but If it would he a quiecky with him just sliding under your skirt he would love the drill of being caught and claiming you as his for other‘s

[ masturbation ] ― he‘s a horndog + single? Then he‘d masturbate quiete a lot but when he finally got you, he didn‘t need to anymore

[ no go ] ― anything that has to do with other people - he‘d be way too possessive and jealous for including someone else into your sexlife

[ oral ] ― MUNCH MUNCH MUNCH you cannot tell me otherwise! He would get drunk on your pussy, eating it out for hours sometimes. But he also enjoys getting sucked off by you too

[ positions ] ― he loves seeing your face twist in pleasure and your little gasps for air when he fucks into you. so anything like fucking you from behind but in front of a mirror or you riding him and trying your best bouncing up and down on him would do it for him - but I also think when the two if you argue and fuck he would push your face into a pillow while grabbing your hips from behind so you would shut up

[ quickies ] ― he‘d love them cause that means he get‘s extra sex in between classes, before quidditch training or studying

[ rounds ] ― i think his stanima is good like 2-3 long rounds before he would have to take his first break. Either he would smoke a cigarette or eat you out in the meantime

[ secrets ] ― he doesn‘t have real secrets since he‘s really comfortable with you

[ toys ] ― he would be confused when he first caught you with one - poor voy thinking you don‘t enjoy his cock but after you explain it to him he would use it here and there on you vut mostly just when he try‘s teasing and edging you

[ underwear ] ― he LOVES when you wear red for him, not caring what kind of underwear as long as it‘s red. He‘d also almost come directly in his pants when he notice you don‘t wear any under your skirt but would punish you still

[ volume ] ― Mattheo loves your loud moans and screams of his name, he would praise you so much for it and just gets drunk on your little whimpers for him - mattheo would also be quiete vocal always dirty talking to you or groaning at how tight you feel around him

[ watch ] ― he would never let anyone watch you - not even over his dead body but like i said before when you have clothes on and he slips under your skirt he‘d enjoy someone catching you two

[ xxx ] ― would only watch when he‘s single but even then not that often

[ yearning ] ― he would be the biggest tease ever! Stroking your inner thigh under the table in class or at dinner. He‘d tease you by whispering all the things he wants to do to you in your ear while all your friends are around, slowly brushing his hands over your clothes pussy when nobody‘s looking

[ zzz ] ― usually depends on his day. If he had quidditch training or was awake all night then he‘d be tired after it but otherwise he‘d kind of get his energy from fucking you

you do not have to agree on that – remeber he‘s fictional and that‘s MY opinion 🫶🏻

here‘s my masterlist If you wanna read more <3

taglist: @justarandomcanadiantransdude @sofa-couch26 @helendeath @thatonepansexual2000 @imabee-oralizard @supernaturaldawning @little-miss-naill @kolsangel @itsarajr @jolly4holly @hisparentsgallerryy @slytherinscreamqueen @mixvchelle @littlemadamred @ummmmmmm-username @jeannie-beannie @belle-blue @izriddle @kr-1-sta @sagetakami

xoxo sarah <3

#sub mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle masterlist #mattheo riddle blurb #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle headcanon #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle smut #slytherin boys fluff #slytherin boys smut #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys imagine #slytherin boys headcanons

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katelynnwrites · 3 days

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Honigbiene's Bee Machine | Laura Freigang x Child!Reader

warnings: asthma attack

word count: 1143

summary: you are diagnosed with asthma

a/n: part of Laura's Honigbiene

Laura thinks it’s funny how much you love flowers.

Exactly like your namesake, honeybee.

You love touching them and feeling the petals between your fingers. You love plucking them and bringing them home, where your Mama lets you keep them in mason jars of water.

Every time your Mama takes you on walks to the park or anywhere else really, you come home with flowers.

From bushes, the football field and even cracks in the sidewalk, you pick them up.

After you learn colours at school, you like naming the colours of your flowers to Mama. Just in case she didn’t have a teacher to teach her.

White are the ones that grow where Mama and Tantes kick a ball around and yellow are the ones that grow right outside your home.

Sometimes your Mama asks if you have a favourite but you don’t. You love them all equally and you tell her as such. Mama always laughs and kisses your forehead, saying that you’re adorable.

You don’t really understand what she means by it but you love her anyway. You love her more than you love your flowers because she is the best.

Mama cuddles you a lot and lets you sleep in her big bed all the time even though you are not a baby and have your own big girl bed.

She’s also patient, giving you all the time you want when you stop to look at each and every flower you see, on the way to the playground.

You think Mama is your best friend.

She’s got her watchful eyes on you now as you head off towards the first patch of flowers you see.

They are a bright pink and so pretty that you run to get there faster.

Mama is always reminding you to be careful and use your walking feet but you’re just so excited that you can’t help it.

It has happened before, with your Mama often chiding you gently and warning that you could fall.

That has never happened before but it seems like today is the day your luck runs out.

Laura knows it's going to happen before you do but there is nothing she can do as you somehow trip and fall face first into the flowers you had been so looking forward to seeing.

She’s at your side, lifting you out of them before you have a chance to cry.

‘Oh Honigbiene.’ She murmurs soothingly.

‘Mama.’ You whimper and she hugs you close.

‘Mama.’ You whine again because something doesn’t feel good.

There is an odd feeling in your chest, like the one you sometimes get after running a lot but so much worse.

‘It’s okay.’ Your Mama coos, rubbing your back soothingly.

You cough loudly, startling Mama enough that she draws back to look you over.

You cough again. Then again and again and again.

‘Hurts Mama.’ You cry, beginning to get scared.

You’re breathing faster and faster, trembling slightly in front of your Mama who is quickly realising that something is very wrong.

She forces calm into her voice, in an attempt to keep you calm, ‘Honigbiene take a deep breath. Nice and slow.’

With tears streaming down your face, you shake your head, trying to tell her that you can’t.

‘Yes you can. Try baby try.’ Mama pleads.

You attempt to suck in a breath but you’re only able to manage a shaky wheeze.

If your Mama wasn’t panicked before, she sure is now.

‘Keep trying Honigbiene.’ She urges as she dials for an ambulance.

She’s talking very fast but the ick in your chest gets bigger.

‘Mama.’ You choke out, whimpering when she drops her phone to hold you.

‘The ambulance is coming. You’ve just got to hang on a little bit longer, okay Honigbiene?’

Mama gets you to sit down as she rubs your back in hopes that it will help.

Still, the ambulance can’t come soon enough.

By the time it arrives, you are pale and breathless, your heart beating fast as a result of the lack of oxygen and how terrified you are.

The people that come out of it slip a mask onto your face and then one of them, a nice woman explains to you that it will help you breathe.

Like your Mama, she tells you to take deep breaths.

Then Mama carries you into the ambulance where you lay down on a small bed inside. She softly tells you that you’re going to the hospital where lots of nice people will look after you.

Your Mama promises that you’ll be okay and you believe her because she had never lied to you before.

The funny mask helps you feel better but your chest still hurts and you’re coughing a lot.

If you weren’t so distracted by how sick you feel, the sound of the ambulance sirens would have made you excited.

As it is, you whimper to Mama until you get to the hospital.

Then a doctor checks you over and gives you another funny mask.

This one has white smoke and when you take deep breaths in, helps you to breathe properly again.

The ick that hurts your chest goes away and you happily sit in your Mama’s lap to finish taking the big slow breaths that the doctor asks you take.

Your new mask is connected to a machine that hums.

‘Just like a bee!’ You tell Mama.

‘Yes. Just like a bee.’ She murmurs, hugging you tightly.

Mama does not let you go even when the doctor comes back in to talk to her, using big words you don’t understand.

He gets you to blow into a big tube a lot and stares at a screen with lots of squiggly lines and numbers on it.

You don’t understand what he’s doing but when he’s done, you get to go home with the humming machine.

‘I like my Bee Machine.’ You say to your Mama as she sets it by the big bed at bedtime.

Mama laughs, ‘Is that what we’re calling it?’

She tucks you under the covers with one of the honeybees Tante Klara crocheted for you.

‘I like your Bee Machine too. It’s going to help you and that is very important. You are very important to me and I love you so much, Honigbiene.’

‘Love you too Mama.’ You whisper and she gives you a goodnight kiss on your forehead before tucking herself under the covers.

You might be getting bigger but Laura thinks that you’ll never be too big to stop fitting in her arms.

As long as you want her to, she’ll let you sleep in her bed and hold you till you fall asleep.

With how much your newly diagnosed asthma scared her today, she holds you long after you’ve fallen asleep.

Even when she falls asleep, she’s holding you close.

German Translation:

Honigbiene - Honeybee

#laura freigang #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #laura freigang x reader #laura freigang imagine #woso fanfics #woso community #eintracht frankfurt frauen #dfb frauen #gerwnt #katelynnwrites

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dcxdpdabbles · 2 days

Note

Am going feral for Danny's grill, I'm salivating for another part, perhaps the batfams reactions to Tim's theory of Danny being fae and just "ohh oh that tracks, that tracks a little too well, but atleast he's a nice fae? Also I vainly remember Constantine drunkenly complaining about a pariah being a bitch king so maybe Danny is actually fae royalty which is why he can afford to be nice??"

Sry for rambling ♡

Tim's investigation updates are alarming, to put it nicely. Bruce can't say he's thrilled by how his son discovered a new Fae court or that his son is now untraceable within the said court.

He would think Tim was missing if it weren't for the reports he finds at family information locations. Thankfully, the fae seemed benevolent—at least for now.

Bruce would be the first to admit that he did not like how, out of all his kids, Tim always seemed to get involved with the oddest of missions.

Reading the Young Justice reports always gave him a headache- baseball game for the plant? Accidentally killed Santa Claus?!? - So, he not only figured out a Fae had appeared in Gotham but also ate the food the Fae offered him? Yeah, that was his Tim.

Bruce had picked up Tim's progress reports before anyone else. His other children were focused on a missing person case and their own cases.

Bruce figured that as long as Tim was treated right, he could spend time searching for a way to get his son home safely without worrying about the others. He has spoken with every member of the Justice League Dark, interviewed any god or goodness in the Justice League, and done extensive research on Faes themselves.

Almost everything had given him the same result: A human could be returned from the Other World only if the Fae allowed it.

It's not impossible to trick a Fae into releasing Tim, but it must be delicately done. Those types of beings rarely forgive and never forget.

He had planned for this to happen to him long before he became Batman—after all, he knew those creatures were real after learning of Aliens—but each of his plans to escape the Fae had an "It's alright if I die" in progress.

He could not apply those plans to Tim, as he did not care if his son lived.

He was replaying his interview with John Consitiante- seeing as that man had a lot of practice swinging his soul as a bargaining chip- when Jason came stomping down the stairs.

"I can't find him!" He swears, throwing himself in a computer chair with a huff. Bruce lowers the volume on his computer, making a sound in the back of his throat. It's the usual noise he makes to convey to his children he is listening and is curious about what is upsetting them

Jason, easily able to understand his sounds now, ranks a hand through his hair with a scoff. "The favor one of my contacts called in. Alvin Draper. I can't find anything on him before my contact took him in"

"Could be a fake name," Bruce offers, typing into his search engine some keywords John spilled in his drunken state. He reads over the runes that pulled up while considering Jason's words. "He gave your contact his name in the same breath as his work. He would unlikely have trusted him that much, so he creates a false name to cover up his street name, which he only gives to customers. His birth name is even less spoken."

"Yeah, I thought the same, so I took the initiative to look at anyone working in his usual areas. Some working girls who answer to me have also asked around. Anyone even remotely matching the description has been tracked down and kept safe, but none were the target. I've even had the others look into it just in case the few corner boys didn't trust Red Hood would be more forthcoming with information. Nothing. Zip. Nada! I'm not an amateur, Bruce. " Jason snarks and Bruce fights off the wave of pride. Of course, his children were able to do all that without him. His kids were incredible at their work.

"No one has seen or heard of Alvin within the industry. If he's a corner boy, he's a private one. Those are the worst because it usually means the clients are crazy powerful and extra careful to not be seen."

Bruce pauses, mind rushing at lightning speed. "Power, not seen and....does this Alvin Draper happen to work on these streets?"

He pulls up a map with various colored dots on it. Bruce had been carefully tracking down where Tim and his Fae had been going through. Tim mainly stayed at the Fae's manor but was allowed to go out to work. One of the reasons Bruce truly believed it was benevolent.

If he ignored the information in the packages, it seemed like Tim was taking some personal time off. His other children surely thought so. They all just laughed at the fact Tim was not about but was still solving the most cases out of all of them.

It was primarily remote work, which Bruce didn't mind. Tim needed a vacation from Red Robin and Wayne Enterprises' CEO.

"Yes!" Jason gasps, leaning towards the map. "How did you find all the targeted areas? My contact said Alvin moved almost every night."

Bruce weighs his options before carefully admitting. "It wasn't my intention to get Alvin's area. I have been tracking a new Fae court that followed these paths."

There was a significant pause before Jason asked with great patience. "There is a what in Gotham?"

"A Fae."

"...Okay, and how long has this been in our city?"

"About two months now."

Jason takes a deep breath. He reaches around Bruce to press the communications line, which he presses four times. At once, the cave is filled with the noise of his children going about their night- either in or out of costume.

All but Tim, since he is still within the Fae's castle. It's a setback that Bruce can't find the castle, even after Tim tells him exactly where it is with coordinates.

He assumes that he, as a human, has no access to the building. Nothing on his computers or tests proves that there is a building there, but Tim swears that's where he's been.

"We have Faes in Gotham. B. has known about them for two months," Jason announces, cutting everyone off. The lines go very silent, and Bruce blinks, confused when he can pick up some anger in his children's silence.

"B?" Dick says in that You better tell me everything right now, old man voice. It's the strangely sickly sweet tone he uses that disguises danger.

Bruce is mystified. Why is he angry? "Two months ago, Tim informed me that a stranger had caught his attention and that he was going undercover. He mostly noticed inconsistencies with his target, but it was only after following the suspect home that he realized the man was not human-"

"Father, are you saying a Fae has Red Robin?" Damian interrupted which is unusual. His youngest almost never does that; he's far too polite and disciplined.

"Yes. He's been in his castle the whole time he's been away."

"Did he eat anything the Fae gave him!?" Duke's cries sounded almost hysterical.

"Yes, he has been there for two months. Tim needed to eat."

"RR has been gone for almost three months, B.!" Harper snaps. She was out as Bluebird for the first time in a while. Her college assignments were really cutting into her hero time.

"Is he okay?" Cullen asks quietly. Bruce had always suspected the lad had a crush on his son, flushing deep red whenever Harper brought him over.

"He is fine. Tim has kept contact with me and seems to be thriving with the Fae. I have been working to get the being to give him back without causing him harm."

"That's what all the research you've been doing lately was about?" Barbara demands.

Bruce squints at the screens where voice lines are beside the images of his children. He doesn't know why but understands that even she is cross with him. "Yes."

"Master Bruce, we will be having a conversation later," Alfred hisses- actually hisses, and Bruce feels cold, hard dread slip down his spine. Oh no. Had he done something wrong again?

Should he not mention his theory that Tim and Alvin are one in the same? Would that make things worse or better?

Jason lets loose a series of swears in Spanish. He leans against the table, pitching his voice loud enough that the rest of the Bats can hear him. "Crude, I think the Fae collects people with the same physical characteristics. Tim and Alvin are known as people of the same height, eye color, age, hair color, and even skin color."

Dick, Damian, Duke, and Harper all swear in their own native tounges, which makes Bruce fight the urge to sink down. Yes, it is better not to mention his other theory of Jason's contact being said, Fae.

Not until he has proof, at least.

"Let me guess." Steph chimes in with a sigh. "Tim followed the Fae because he's pretty."

Bruce remains stubbornly silent, but he thinks that Tim finds the Fae or "Danny" quite handsome. Why else would he spend three paragraphs of his report describing Danny's hair?

"I think we all need to come together to work on this," Dick says next, voice taking charge. Bruce's pride and adoration for the children grow a few notches higher when they all agree without thought.

"Who knows what Tim or Alvin are going through."

Meanwhile, Tim sighed as one of Danny's "hired" help carefully worked out some knots in his back. How long has it been since he had a spa day? Too long. "Was that too rough?"

"No, it's the perfect pressure."

"Wonderful. After we are done here, would you prefer a mud bath or a soothing seaweed wrap?"

"Oh, a mud bath for sure."

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Danny's grill #Part 4 #Bruce has a little of the tism #He doesn't know what is concerned good conversation #Bruce figured it out after one convo with Jason #He tells no one #The Bats are panicking that a Fae has Tim #Tim is being pampered

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starsinthesky5 · 2 days

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the alchemy || joe burrow x reader

description: why fight a feeling that is so strong? sometimes things are meant to be and you should let things fall into place. the transformation of something dull and broken into gold is hard to ignore, and you shouldn’t ignore it :)

a/n: another request! i love this song soo much so i hope you all enjoy! for the purposes of this fic, this takes place after their first superbowl appearance and after joe sprains his mcl.

also another flashback heavy fic because of the song 🤍

warnings: language, angst, allusions to sex

word count: 10k (dang she’s a long one)

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Have you ever experienced something that happens once every few lifetimes? When those chemicals just hit you like white wine and make you drunk on the feeling. The feeling you get when you’re with the right person, that unbreakable connection, that intense and passionate love? That’s what you feel with Joe. Anyone in your position would hang onto that for as long as they could, and never let go. And you were, but something scared you and caused you to pull away.

Flashback to a few weeks ago

You and Joe were lying on the couch, wrapped up in each other’s arms, and watching a movie. You were wearing one of his hoodies and leaning against his chest. His arm was wrapped around your shoulder and your head was tucked under it. You guys were having some downtime together and were trying to squeeze in as much as you could before the football season started in a few weeks.

You looked up at him and saw the content look on his face, and it was all because of you. He looked comfortable for the first time in a long time. A lot was riding on this season, and Joe was a little overwhelmed with everything going on, but you were there to help him every step of the way.

“How ya feeling?” You asked your boyfriend.

He looked down at you and smiled, “I feel amazing. A lot better than I have these past few months,”.

You looked into his compelling eyes and could tell he was being truthful. He’d been struggling these past few months with his knee sprain, going to the Superbowl and losing, plus trying to get back to where he was before while trying to block out the outside noise. It had been a rough off-season for him, but one of the highlights had been meeting you early on.

You and Joe had met right after the Super Bowl through mutual friends. When you first met, there was an instant connection, emotionally and physically. It was like pure electricity and heat between you two, something you hadn’t experienced in a while. No matter how hard you tried to deny it and run from it, you couldn’t.

“That’s really great, Joe. I’m so proud of you for pushing through,” you grinned.

“I owe it to you. You really helped me pull through all this these past few months. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he said, his hand moving to your cheek.

“Joe,” you said while placing your hand on top of his, wanting to tell him that he got to where he is right now because of his own hard work and dedication. You were just a silent observer to his greatness.

“You’ve done so much for me. These past few months have been a dream. Getting to spend all this time with you has literally been the biggest blessing and a huge reminder that things don’t always have to be so complicated,” he says before leaning down and pressing a kiss to your soft pink lips.

Your relationship with Joe felt pretty easy and relaxed, which was different for you since your previous relationships felt the complete opposite. You were his sanctuary and he was your light at the end of the dark tunnel.

You lean into the kiss for a few seconds before he pulls away. He searches your eyes for a few moments, “I love you,” he says against your lips. It felt like the word stopped and you got punched in the gut when he said those three words. You hadn’t heard those three words in a very long time, and the last person who said those words to you absolutely destroyed you. You had had a few relationships throughout your life, each one worse than the other and it crushed you every time it ended. Your first serious relationship ended because the guy fell out of love. Your next relationship ended because the guy had feelings for someone else. And your last relationship, your longest, ended because he cheated on you multiple times and tried to make it seem like it was your fault, and that was the final blow. He used those three words against you every time, and now those three words came out of Joe’s mouth.

He noticed your startled facial expression and immediately pulled back. “Are you okay?” He asked.

You were frozen. You didn’t know what to say or how to respond to him. It’s not that you didn’t love him, it’s just you were scared that it would happen to you again, and you wouldn’t be able to make it to the other side this time. You fell hard and fast for Joe, meaning if anything happened, it would shatter you beyond the point of return.

“I’m fine,” you lie while moving out of his arms.

“No, you’re not, I can see it. I just screwed things up didn’t I?” He said as he grabbed your hand. His face sported a worried and nervous look.

“No no no, you didn’t. I did,” you say, your heart racing and your face burning. “I can’t say it back,” you whisper as tears fill your eyes.

Joe stayed silent for a few moments as he collected his thoughts. He loved you so much and knew why you couldn’t say it back. It broke his heart that you were scared to say it back. He knew you cared for him and your relationship was going amazingly, but he still tried to do everything he could to make you forget about the others before him. He was trying to undo the damage they had done.

“Y/N-”,

“You deserve to have those three words said to you and I just can’t say it back. You are the most lovable, caring, and thoughtful human I have ever met, and I can’t even say it back?” You say as hot tears slide down your cheeks, feeling absolutely shitty that you were putting him in this position.

“Y/N, listen to me”, he says as he grabs your hands to calm you down. “I don’t care if you can’t say it back right now. I know it’s not easy for you,”.

“But you should care,”.

“But I don’t. I know why you can’t and it’s okay. If you need time, I’m here. I can wait. I will wait,” he soothes.

Your heart broke at the situation. You felt horrible for not being able to say those 3 words to him even though you felt those feelings towards him. He was willing to wait for you, but was he really? Joe could have anyone he wanted, so would he wait for you to make up your mind when he could just move to the next girl? You needed a minute to get yourself together, he didn’t deserve this, especially right before the start of the season.

“I- I just need a minute. I’m so sorry. I’ll text you, but I just need a minute from this,” you said as you got off the couch, collecting your things so you could leave.

Joe gets up, the look on his face makes you want to cry even harder. He lets out a sigh, “That’s okay, I understand. When you’re ready, I’m here,” he says.

You give him a little smile as you pull him in for a hug before walking to the door and leaving his house.

End of flashback

The sounds of football reporters from the TV snapped you back to the present. It was currently Game Day, week 1 to be specific, and you were watching from your couch in your apartment. You should be watching from the Burrow Suite, just like how you and Joe talked about all off-season, but you weren’t, and it broke your heart.

It had been a few weeks since you had seen him, you were constantly replaying the horrible conversation in your head and feeling worse each time. He had texted you a few times to check in, but that was about it. You asked for space and he was giving it to you and you didn’t want to cause any more distress to him, especially since week 1 was right around the corner. You didn’t know how he was feeling, what he was doing, or who he was with. It was driving you insane, but you didn’t need to be filling his space with your mess right now.

You watched the TV carefully as the camera moved back down onto the field, and closer to Joe. He was sitting on the bench in his pre-game gear, seemingly lost in thought as he stared off into space. He turned around and looked up for a few seconds, and that sight alone made your eyes well with tears again.

You knew exactly what he was looking at and who he was looking for. You. He was looking for you in the suite. And here you were, sitting on the couch, alone, while you were supposed to be cheering him on in person. You wiped your eyes and took a few deep breaths. You didn’t want to distract him with your drama, so you understood that this needed to happen. He had to be laser-focused and you were being a distraction.

And he was laser-focused. The Bengals won their first game of the season, 35-17, and Joe absolutely killed it. He didn’t miss a beat and the team was on fire from start to finish. The big smile on his face in his on-field interview calms you down and his post-game presser reassures you that he is doing good, at least for right now.

A few hours later, you were lost in your thoughts. You were pondering whether or not you should send him a text about how great he did in the game. Was it stupid to text him? Did he even care? What if another girl was with him right now doing what you would be doing with him after his game?

“Fuck it,” you mumbled while typing up a little message.

Hey! Watched the game today and you killed it!!! Didn’t miss a single beat, so proud of you!

Remember to elevate your leg with a cushion in case your knee feels a bit off. And also ice it, I think the ice wrap is in the freezer :))

You knew that his knee would probably be a little sore after today's game just like it would be after practice. You had discovered that throughout the off-season after he’d come over to your place after practice every day. You would be the one to help soothe any discomfort he had but since you weren’t there, you had to remind him.

Flashback to June

You were finishing up a project for work until you heard a soft knock on your apartment door. You looked over to the clock which read 3:30, meaning it was probably Joe since he would come over after practice wrapped up for the day. He would usually come over every Wednesday and Friday and sometimes stay the night or end up going back to his house pretty late. When he first started to do this, you asked him if it was too tiring for him since you figured he’d be able to fully unwind and decompress more in the comfort of his own home. But he told you that being with you was his way of relaxing and decompressing.

You hopped off of the barstool and turned off the stove before walking over to the door to let him in. You made some spicy chicken and rice, seasoning everything just as he liked it.

You opened the door and Joe immediately leaped onto you, pulling you in for an intimate hug.

“Hello to you too,” you giggle as you wrap your arms around his large frame.

He lets out a laugh as you lead him back into your apartment, still hugging each other. He uses his foot to kick the door shut and pulls you in closer.

“You’re extra clingy today,” you laugh as you rub his back.

“Mmm, I missed you,” he mumbled against your head, pressing a delicate kiss onto your hair.

“Me too,” you said as you stood on your toes so you could press a kiss to his cheek. You pulled away from each other after a few more moments of being in each other’s arms and Joe’s nose wiggled as a smirk appeared on his face.

“You made my favorite,” he said, immediately recognizing the mouthwatering aroma.

“That I did,” you giggled. “Here, come sit on the couch. You’re probably sore and exhausted,”.

“Ooo, do I get treatment from my sexy nurse today?” He teased as he walked over and collapsed on the couch.

“If sweatpants and an old ass tank top from high school are sexy, then yes,” You grin while moving the cushions to help him elevate his knee.

He stares at you while you help him get cozy, “You don’t have to do all this,”.

“Since you demand to come over after practice, the least I can do is help you get comfy. Don’t want your knee to act up because you didn’t take care of yourself just because you were with me,” you say while moving his leg over to the cushions.

“Does it feel weird?” You look up and ask.

He lets out a sigh, “Yeah, a little,”.

“I’ll grab the ice wrap,” you say as you walk over to the freezer.

“Yes, Ms. Nurse,” he salutes before grabbing the TV remote to turn on an episode of The Office.

“Really funny, Joe,” you say.

A few minutes later, you wrap his knee in the ice wrap and curl up next to him on your couch, your head tucked under his strong arm and his hand sliding up and down your arm. You were playing with the strings of his hoodie and asked, “How was practice?”.

“It was good. I’m feeling and moving a lot better and the knee isn’t so bad. The soreness and weirdness will probably linger for a little bit so I’ll just have to put up with it,”.

“Good thing we got a routine down for taking care of it,” you smile.

“All thanks to you,” he says as he shakes your shoulder.

“You give me too much credit,”.

“Mmm no I don’t. You know exactly what works and what doesn’t work. But I think the biggest remedy is you. You make my life and evenings after practice so much more relaxing. Best medicine and treatment by far,” he says as he looks down into your eyes.

You stare into his baby blues for a few moments before leaning in and capturing his lips in a tender kiss.

“You’re too much, Burrow,” you laugh as you pull away.

“But you can handle me so I can’t be thaaat much,” he smirks.

“What’s with the smirk,” you giggle.

“It’s just that you can handle me in more ways than one,” he says as he moves you into his lap, straddling his hips and chest pressed against his warm skin.

“Dirty, Dirty Mind,” you say as you shake your head. “But you are right, I can handle you in every way possible. Never too much,” you say as you lean back in for another kiss.

End of flashback

You let out a deep breath and quickly turned your phone off so you would stop thinking about it. He probably wouldn’t even answer until tomorrow so why bother thinking about it? You got up off the couch and walked into your kitchen to heat up some leftover pasta and heard a chime come from the living room. You whipped your head around and saw your phone light up. Your eyes widened and you ran back over to the couch to check what it was.

Thank You! And thanks for the reminder. I already have the knee wrapped and my leg elevated. I’m glad you decided to watch. I was hoping you’d make it to the game but I get it

Your shoulders dropped at his text. He wanted you there and you let him down. You didn’t know how to respond to him because you didn’t want to make it worse, so you just decided to send a white heart emoji and turn your phone off.

You moved back onto the couch and fell back into the pillows. A loud exhale escapes your mouth, “What is wrong with me,” you say to yourself.

A few weeks later

It had been a few weeks since the first game of the season. It was currently week 6 and you still hadn’t seen Joe or really talked to him. The Bengals were 2-3 and you knew that was killing Joe and you wanted nothing more than to reassure him that it was going to get better. Like clockwork, the analysts began their ‘is Burrow really as good as people think he is?’ agenda just because he had a few bad games.

To help take your mind off of things, Jess had invited you out for lunch so you were getting ready for that. You were putting on your last bit of jewelry when one of your necklaces on your stand caught your eye. It was the infinity necklace Joe had gifted you for your birthday a few months ago.

Flashback to your birthday (August)

“And here is the last birthday gift,” Joe says as he places a tiny box in your lap.

“Are you sure it’s the last one?” You giggle.

He raises his brow and gives you a look that immediately shuts you up. He had surprised you with quite a few gifts today and many of them were very expensive looking. Each time you told him you didn’t need or want anything, but he clearly had a different idea.

“Okay, Okay,” you retreat, causing him to let out a laugh.

His arm wraps around your shoulder as you open the box. Inside the box was a beautiful diamond infinity necklace. Your eyes widen and your mouth falls open, “Joe, this is so beautiful,” you say as you examine the gorgeous diamonds.

“Only the best for my girl,” he smiles as he squeezes your shoulder.

“You didn’t have to do all this. This must’ve been so expensive,”.

“So what? It’s your birthday and I think this infinity symbol really resonates with how I feel about you,” he says as he picks up the necklace out of the box. “Here, turn around so I can put it on,”.

You turn around and move your hair out of the way. The smile on your face says enough about your emotions. Butterflies filled your belly and your heart was overflowing with adoration. He was so good to you and always made sure you felt valued by him, and he would do anything to show you and seemingly wanted to show you that forever. Infinity. He wanted to be with you for infinity.

End of flashback

You stared at the necklace for a few moments. You hadn’t worn it since the day you freaked out on Joe but you looked at it every day. A silent reminder that he does value you and he does care, but moreover, he adores you. But you couldn’t understand why you couldn’t show him the same love he gave you.

You grabbed the necklace, not overthinking it, and put it around your neck. You then grabbed your stuff and left your apartment so you wouldn’t have time to reconsider wearing it.

A few hours later

“So she told me she couldn’t go because she spilled Juice all over her dress but I think it was because she didn’t want to be around Becca since she started dating her exes best friend,” Jess says as she takes a sip of her lemonade.

“Man, your college friends are really something,” you laugh as you take a bite of your salad.

“Tell me about it,” she smiles.

“So, what’s going on with you and Joe?” She asks straight up. “I see that you’re wearing the necklace,” she points out.

Your smile drops a bit as you take a deep breath. You knew you’d have to talk about it at some point and you really needed to talk about it to someone who you could confide in. Jess was the perfect person. You and her immediately clicked when you first met at a team dinner back in the off-season and have been great friends ever since.

“I don’t know. He told me he loved me and I couldn’t say it back,” you frowned. “And as for the necklace, I don’t really know why I put it on today,”.

“Oh, Y/N,” she says as she reaches for your hand.

“I want to say it back but I’m scared. Joe has the ability to rip me to shreds if things go south and I can’t go through that again. Not after what happened in my last relationship. He’s so perfect and that worries me,” you say.

“Joe isn’t like the others,” Jess says.

“I know, and that’s why I’m confused. I don’t know why I’m being like this. He hasn’t given me a single reason to be this fearful. And I honestly don’t understand why he’s putting up with this. He’s probably better off forgetting about me and moving on with some other girl,”.

“Are you crazy?” She questioned. “Joe hasn’t stopped asking me about you. Every time I see him at the game he’s always asking about you and if you’re doing alright,” she giggles.

“Really?” You say, a little shocked that he thought about you that much, especially on game day.

“Yes, really. Y/N, he loves you. I’ve known Joe for a very long time and I’ve never seen him like this. He’s never been this in love with someone before. You’re special. You bring out the absolute best in him and he does the same for you,”.

“And you're saying there isn’t anyone else that he’ll just go to after he gets bored with me?” You ask.

“Nope. Never was and never will be. You’re the one to beat. You stole his heart. He’s never going to get bored when he has someone special like you in his life,” she winks.

“I think you’re just afraid of getting your heart broken again, and that’s fair. You’ve been through a lot and it can’t be easy to get into it again after going through a really tough and long relationship. But as your friend and as Joe’s friend, you owe it to him and yourself to try. He cares about you more than he cares about anyone, and that says a lot,”.

“The way Joe spent all those months in the off-season trying to win you over was unlike anything we’ve ever seen him do,”

Flashback to March

“He’s here?” you say to Jenna, wide-eyed and slightly nervous.

“Yeah, Dylan invited him,” She giggled. “Be prepared for another round of flirting, he is relentless,”.

Today was your friend Jenna’s birthday dinner. You had become friends at the end of last year when your job transferred you to the Cincinnati branch, and you instantly hit it off and became close friends in a short amount of time. She introduced you to all her friends and you became a part of their big group and that also meant becoming friends with her fiancee’s friends. They were all great and super friendly, except one of them was a bit too friendly with you. It was none other than the Bengals Quarterback, Joe Burrow. He and Dylan went to OSU together and were a part of the football program there and have kept in touch ever since, so you shouldn’t have been surprised when he walked into your friend’s dinner.

“He just never stops. Like 2 weeks ago when we all went to Dinner for Jess’s birthday, he was stuck to my side the entire time,” you said to her.

“What did I tell you? He likes you, Y/N,” she laughed as she sipped her drink.

“Yeah right. I know how these football players roll and I am not about to get caught up in that mess and get my heart broken all in one go,” you say as you watch him closely. Joe had taken a particular interest in you ever since you had met in February. You weren’t exactly sure why, but every time you would see him, he would end up stuck to your side the entire time. He would constantly talk to you, literally never shutting up. He would make little comments about how pretty you looked and how you were the nicest person he had ever met. You had a lot of things in common such as your music taste, your favorite movies, your small-town upbringing, and even your childlike tendencies such as playing Mario Kart & Smash Bros religiously at your grown age. Just the usual flirting but you were not buying into it. Sure, you would play into it and flirt back, but you had 0 intentions of actually starting something with him out of all people.

Each time you saw him, each time he would try to get you to hang out with him, just the two of you. Whether it was him suggesting that you two watch a movie at his place, go out to a new restaurant, or do anything you wanted to do, you always shut him down. Partly because you had your guard up around him for various reasons, but also because you didn’t think he actually liked you. You thought he just wanted to hook up and become casual fuck buddies like a typical football player, but you had no idea that those were not his intentions at all.

Joe really did like you and was doing anything to get you to give him a chance. He hadn’t felt this way about a girl in a very long time, and he was set on winning you over by any means necessary. You felt a little bad watching him struggle with you each time, but you were silently enjoying it. Something about having a star QB wrapped around your finger was amusing.

“I won’t lie, it is kinda fun to watch him attempt to make a move every time we see each other,” you laugh as you continue to stare at him. Although you didn’t want any part of him, he did look absolutely sexy. You would be lying to yourself if you said he wasn’t the most attractive man you had ever seen in your life.

“I give it a few months. You’ll be wrapped up in his arms,” Jenna says as she waves Joe over. He ends his conversation with a friend and starts walking over, a smile creeps up onto his face when he notices you sitting at the table.

You whip your head over to face her as you see him start to walk over, “What are you doing?” you say as you try not to act rude.

“You’ll thank me for this in a few months,” she winks as she gets up from her chair, greeting Joe, and then walking over to Dylan, Sam, and Jess.

You took a few deep breaths as you watched him sit down right next to you. “Here we go again,” you thought to yourself.

“Hey, Y/N,” he says, flashing his gorgeous smile to you.

“Hi, Joe,” you smile back.

“You look really pretty tonight,” he says as he takes a sip of his drink.

“Thank you,” you say back, hardly putting any effort into the conversation.

You both find yourself in some awkward silence for a few moments before Joe speaks up once again. “Soo, What have you been up to?”.

“Oh, nothing much. Just the usual,” you say as you play with the rings on your fingers.

“Cool, Cool,” he nods, the smile on his face slowly fading away.

“So Um, have you given my dinner offer any thought since the last time we saw each other?” he asked, referring to when he asked you if you wanted to get dinner with him at this new sushi place downtown that he had been dying to go to.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Sorry, but I’m swamped with work for a while, don’t think I’ll have any time,” you lied, fully expecting him to keep pushing you for it like he usually does. It kinda was like a game of cat and mouse. You kept running away and he kept chasing, never being able to catch you, but also never giving up.

He stays quiet for a few seconds as you watch his head drop and the grip on his drink tighten. He would normally start the playful banter by now but he hadn’t, which was odd.

“See, I just don’t get it,” he said, looking back up at you, his usually joy-filled eyes now empty.

“Get what?” you ask him, sitting up in your seat.

“You. I don’t get you. Ever since we met, you’ve been giving me mixed signals. I thought we had something going on here since you were very clearly flirting back, but every fucking time I try to move to the next step, you dodge me like the plague. I don’t get it. Did I do something wrong?” he said.

“Joe, I-” you said, not knowing what to say to him. You felt horrible but he was right. You were sending him mixed signals but you thought he was having fun as well. Truth was, you weren’t dodging him, deep down you knew he was a good person and you actually enjoyed his company, you were just dodging the idea of dating and being in a relationship again. You just struggled with the idea of opening up to a person like that again, especially since the last time you did, it was used against you. And you were taking it out on Joe.

“What? Literally, what could you possibly have to say?” he asks, his face turning a little red but his voice remaining leveled. Even though he was upset, he made sure not to raise his voice.

You felt like throwing up in the moment because you felt awful for making him feel like this. The silence in between was enough of a response for him to get up. “Yeah, I figured. I don’t know what I did, but I’m sorry if something about me makes you want to run in the opposite direction,” he says as he turns around and walks back over to your friends who had just watched all this unfold.

You just sat there in silence, feeling shitty for making him feel like he was the problem when in reality, it was you. You got up and walked to the bathroom, trying to escape the now awkward ambiance and also compose yourself.

“What was that about?” Jess asked Joe when he walked over to them.

He shook his head and took a few deep breaths before saying, “I don’t know. I thought she liked me too but every single time I try to make a move, she shuts me down,”. “I don’t know what the fuck I did,”.

“Joe, you didn’t do anything,” Jenna said.

“Then why is she acting like this? When we first met, everything was going well. We had good conversations, she could be around me without looking like she had to throw up, and now? Now she won’t even hold a conversation with me,” he said.

“It’s because she’s scared of getting her heart broken again. All her exes were absolute assholes, each one worse than the other. Her last one really did a number on her but that’s not my story to tell. Just know, it was bad,” Jenna said.

“Jenna’s right. It is not your fault at all. I think deep down, she likes you too but is scared to admit it,” Jess added. “She always looks relaxed with you and seems like she always is having fun,”.

“I just wish she would give me a chance. It feels like I hit a brick wall with her and shit is not moving,” Joe says, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Well, don’t give up man. I know you and you definitely don’t back down from a challenge,” Dylan says, patting his back.

“Yup. She’ll come around,” Sam says.

“You just have to show her that you really really care about her. I know her and I know that once she sees how sincere you are about this, she’ll come through,” Jenna says.

“You didn’t hear this from me, but Y/N loves cliche romantic gestures. Specifically handwritten love letters,” Jess winks.

“Ooo, nothing more romantic than a love letter,” Jenna says while looking over to see if you have come back from the bathroom.

“A love letter? Do I look like Romeo,” Joe scoffs. Seriously, a love letter? Joe could barely write out a sincere birthday message for his friends and family and they expect him to write a love letter?

“Listen, if you really wanna get the girl, try one more time,” Jess encourages.

He thinks about it for a few seconds before giving in. This had to work. If you really liked gestures like this, Joe was going to make sure it was the best damn thing that’s ever happened to you.“This better work,” He says.

“Just don’t feel bad Joe. She just needs to see that you really want this and I think this just might do it,” Jenna says.

“Yeah, I Hope so,” Joe says as he glances over to where you were sitting, the seat now empty. “I’m gonna go get some air,” he says to your friends as he walks out to the entrance of the restaurant.

They were right. Joe never backed down from a challenge and he really wanted you. He was going to do whatever it took to win you over, even if that meant doing something he would never think to do in a million years.

“I’ve never seen Joe like this before,” Sam says to everyone after Joe walks away.

“Tell me about it. She has him wrapped around her finger and I really hope she doesn’t pass on this,” Jess says.

“They’re perfect for each other. She just needs to see it and hopefully this will do it,” Jenna says as you walk back out to the dining room.

A few days later

It had been a few days since Jenna’s birthday dinner. You had managed to avoid Joe the entire night but still felt guilty at the fact that you had been so terrible to him for reasons out of his control.

You were sitting on your couch reading one of your favorite romance novels. Everything was always so perfect in the books. The girl always got the boy and everything was so romantic and beautiful. When was it going to be your turn? When would you be able to feel like the girls in the books? A knock on your door snapped you out of your thoughts, “Hm?” You questioned since you weren’t expecting anyone.

You walked over to the door, opened it, and then were met with a large flower arrangement, no human in sight.

“What the hell,” you said to yourself as you crouched down to pick up the beautiful flowers, which happened to be your favorite, pink roses.

You kicked the door shut with your foot as you walked over to the kitchen island. “Who are these from?” You asked yourself. You searched the flowers for a card and found one tucked into the bottom of the pot.

You pulled over a barstool and sat down before you opened up the envelope. A little note was folded inside. You carefully pulled the paper out and opened it up to read it. You tilted your head out of confusion. The note was handwritten and the handwriting looked a little familiar.

—

Dear Y/N,

I don’t really know how to do this, but please don’t think this is cringey or corny. I think I’ve rewritten this letter like 5 times now so I'm really trying to make this work. Anyways, I feel awful for the way I handled things the other day and I know you’re probably sick of me but I just can’t ignore these feelings anymore.

From the moment I saw you, I knew there was something special about you—something that drew me in and captivated my heart. You’re a very special girl and you deserve all the happiness in the world, and I hope that I can be a part of that. I know it’s only been a short amount of time since we’ve met but every time I see you, I’m reminded that you’re not just something I dreamed about. You’re real and you’re here. And I want to be with you.

Your smile lights up my world and your laughter is like music to my ears. Every time you walk into a room, my heart skips a beat and I find myself completely enchanted by your presence. You are the most beautiful person I have ever known, both inside and out.

I find myself constantly thinking about you, day and night, dreaming of the day when I can finally tell you how much you mean to me. Your kindness, your intelligence, your sense of humor - all of these things make me fall for you more and more with each passing day.

I know that I might just be a small blip on your radar, but I couldn't let another day go by without expressing my feelings for you. I know that this is hard for you, but I really hope you’ll give me a chance to show you that I’m different, and that we can be different.

Sending my love,

Joe.

—

You felt hot tears streaming down your cheeks and onto the countertop, as you finished reading the letter. Nobody had ever written you a love letter before even though it was something you would constantly dream about and mention indirectly to your ex-lovers. None of them got the hint that this was something you wanted. But here you were, reading a love letter from a guy who didn’t even know about your silly little dream but somehow made it come true.

He really cared about you and he wasn’t playing around. The contents of the letter had made his feelings about you incredibly clear and opened up your eyes to what you were missing out on. He was such a sweet, kind-hearted, and gentle person and you had him right at your fingertips. And you were about to push him away for good.

You wiped your tears as you pulled out your phone from your pocket, pulling up Joe’s contact and hitting the call button. You prayed he would pick up, and he did.

“Hello?” He said, slightly breathless as he was in the middle of working out.

“You’re an idiot,” you laughed through the tears.

“Y/N?” He asked.

“Yes, it’s me,” you sniffled. He remained quiet on the other end so you took it as a chance to finally reciprocate the feelings he had for you.

“I got your letter and flowers,” you smiled.

“Yeah?” He asked, putting his dumbbell down and sitting on the workout bench. His stomach was in knots as he was anxious about what your response would be.

“Are you free tonight? I heard that the new sushi place downtown is to die for,” you giggled as you twirled your hair.

Joe’s face immediately lit up and his heart was about to beat out of his chest. He stayed silent for a few seconds to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, and he sure as hell wasn’t. “Yeah, I am. I’ll pick you up in an hour,” he says.

“It’s a date,” you say, biting your bottom lip, your stomach filled with butterflies and anticipation. It was finally your chance to get the boy.

After weeks of waiting and trying, Joe had finally won you over. He had finally won the trophy and ultimate prize which was you.

End of flashback

Nobody had played the field for you like Joe had. You were pretty unlucky when it came to relationships but when you met Joe, everyone who was attempting to play the field just ended up warming the bench. He never gave anyone else a moment to try to win you over. Throughout the off-season, he was doing just about everything to win your heart and he was killing it. You were on a winning streak, up until you ruined it with your childish fears.

“I just- I haven’t felt the way I feel with him in a long time and that scares the hell out of me. The last time I felt that way, I was so blinded by it and it got the best of me,” you replied, your stomach churning at the mention of your last relationship.

“I understand that. But not every guy is going to take advantage of your love. Even though I’ve known you for a few months, I can see that you have so much love inside of you. I can see the love in your eyes for him. Don’t let your past get in the way of something promising and special,” she told you.

“You tell me something new he does for you and a new funny story about him literally every time I see you. You always have this radiant smile when you’re around him and this look in your eyes that most people would say only is seen in someone once every few lifetimes,” Jess adds as she points at your necklace.

“Like look at that. He basically told you it was you and him for infinity. He’s not going anywhere, trust me,” she laughs. “Don’t fight it,”.

You take another deep breath and think about what she’s saying. She’s right. You and Joe had been together for 6 months and in those 6 months he never made you feel bad about yourself, he never made you feel neglected, and he definitely never made you feel unloved. He was different from everyone else and you loved him so much. It wasn’t his fault that the others hurt you so badly and you owed it to him to try.

He was what you had been waiting for your entire life and now that you’d finally had it, you were so close to ruining it. He wasn’t like the others, not one bit. You loved everything about him and he loved everything about you. He showed you what real love felt like, and taught you how to love again. She was right, why should you fight it? You had struck gold with Joe.

“I love him,” you realize, a smile creeping up your face.

“There we go,” she says as she claps her hands together and falls back into the chair.

“I really love him,” you repeat, wanting to scream it at the top of your lungs.

“And I’m sure he would be incredibly happy to hear that,” she smiles. “Wait, you should come to the game on Sunday,” she

“Are you sure? Shouldn’t I wait to talk to him until after this week's game?” You asked.

“I have a feeling he’d be more than excited to see you at the game this week. Might give him that kick he needs to break out of whatever came over him this past 2 games,” she says.

“Yeah, he has been a little off lately,” you frown. You didn’t know if it was because of you or his knee or something else, but something was off about him.

“If you decide to come, I’ll be waiting at the suite entrance since I know it would be your first time at a game,”

“Maybe I’ll come around, it feels like it’s been so long since I’ve seen him,” you said.

It was true, it had been so long since you’d seen him. And you missed him so much. You missed his little laugh, his silly jokes, his adorable smile, his beautiful eyes, his sexy morning voice, and most importantly, the warm and comforting feeling you got around him.

“Mhm,” she replied. “You should wear his jersey too. I’m sure he’d love it,”.

Sunday — Paycor Stadium

You walked into the stadium, taking a deep breath as you made it inside. You were wearing his jersey for the first time and were feeling a little nervous about the entire situation. You haven’t been to his game before, you haven’t even worn his jersey before, and you definitely didn’t know what the hell you were going to say to him once you saw him. You were so caught up in your head that you didn’t realize that you had walked over to the Suite entrance where Jess was waiting for you, just like she had said.

“You made it!” She said as she pulled you in for a hug. “And your outfit looks so cute,” she adds, pointing out your jersey. You had put on the white bengal jersey, a vintage Bengals dad hat, and your favorite pair of jean shorts. And the cherry on top is your infinity necklace.

“Yeah,” you said, a little frazzled because of the many thoughts floating through your head.

She noticed your worried face and said, “Hey, don’t stress. It’ll be just fine, I promise,”.

“I hope so,” you mumble.

She turned her head around, looking to see if the hallway behind her was clear. “Joe won’t be able to come up here now, but that hallway leads straight to the tunnel and locker room entrance,” she says, fully implying that you should go down there and see him.

A smile creeps up your face and you start playing with the infinity necklace around your neck. “Go get your boy,” she teases.

She was right, time to stop being afraid. He was yours and you were his, there was no use fighting the alchemy. What’s meant to be, is meant to be, and you two were meant to be.

You told her you’d be back in 10 or so minutes and made your way down the illustrious hallway. The walls were decorated with Bengals memorabilia, ranging from the beginning of the team and up to now. There were quite a few things on the walls about Joe, and seeing them made your heart full.

You made your way down to the tunnel and locker room area, not sure where you should go from here. He did tell you a while back that family was allowed to be down here once in a while before or after the game, but you didn’t know where you should be.

You took a peak at the field, seeing that there were a few players in their jerseys out there. “He must be getting ready to go out for some last-minute warmups before the walk-in,” you said to yourself.

A sigh left your lips as you sat down on the bench across from the locker room entrance. You waited there for a few moments until you saw the door open, and out came Sam.

You immediately stood up and walked over to him and he noticed you instantly, “Oh- Hey Y/N! It’s great to see you. Jess told me you may be coming to the game so it’s great to see you here! How are you?” he asked.

“I’m amazing Sam, Um, where’s Joe?” You said, getting straight to the point.

He chuckled and shook his head, “He should be coming out in a minute. Man, you two are definitely something,”.

Before you could ask him what he meant by that, he quickly cut you off because he had to go. “Anyways, I gotta go out there but good luck and enjoy your first in-person game,” he smiles as he puts his helmet on and starts to jog out.

You say goodbye to him as you lean back against the wall. “Any minute now,” you whisper to yourself.

A few minutes pass and you decide to go on your phone, seeing a few messages from Jess. She was letting you know that she was sitting inside the suite and grabbed you some food for when you got back. You were in the middle of sending her an update when you heard the door swing open. 3 men stepped out in their football gear and walked over to the tunnel, however, 1 stayed right in front of you.

“Y/N?” the familiar voice asked.

You looked up from your phone, and there he was. The man of your dreams, the person who made you feel cherished and safe.

“Joe,” was all you could say. The nerves you had been feeling for the past hour suddenly disappeared at the sight of him.

He walked closer to you as you slipped your phone into your back pocket. His heart fluttered as he noticed you had his jersey on, but most importantly, you had the necklace on.

“What are you doing-,” he said before you leaped into his arms, taking him by surprise which caused him to stumble back a little.

“I’m so sorry. I am so so so so sooo sorry,” you said as you pushed your face into the crook of his neck. His arms hovered for a second before moving around your waist, holding you tightly.

“For what?” he asked.

You pulled your face out of his neck and met his eyes, “Everything. I’m here now and I’m not going anywhere,” you said as you gazed lovingly into his eyes.

“But that’s only if you still want me-,” you add before he leans down and pushes his lips against yours. God, you missed the feeling of his lips against yours.

You both pull away after a few seconds, “Does that answer your question?”.

You grin at his little gesture, “Absolutely,”.

He pulls you back into him, swaying you back and forth for a little. “We can talk after the game? At least, that’s if you’re staying,”.

“You really think I would be wearing your jersey if I wasn’t here to watch you,”.

“Fair point,” he laughs. He looked out over at the field and saw a few of the staff looking for him. “I gotta go,”.

You release yourself from his embrace, “Don’t wanna keep them waiting too long,” you giggle. “I’ll be up in the Burrow Suite, just like we talked about,”.

Joe felt like melting in the moment. He still couldn’t believe you were here, in his jersey, and were about to watch him play. He was scared and thought that he had lost you for good after what happened but you proved him wrong.

“I’ll be looking for you,” he says, giving you a look that tells you he means business.

“And I’ll be there, I swear,” you salute.

He pulls you back in for another hug, “God, I can’t believe you’re here right now,”.

“Well, get used to it. I think I’ll be letting them know to save a permanent seat for me up there,”.

“I’ll buy you a whole suite just for yourself if you want me to,” he jokes, only partly.

“Baby Steps, Joey. Baby steps,” you giggle.

Your tender moment is soon interrupted by a training staff member walking by, “Joe, we need you out there. They wanna go over a few things before kick-off,”.

“I‘ll be there in a sec,” he says, still holding you.

“You should probably go before they send out a search party,” you say as you look up at him.

“You’re probably right,” he laughs as he lets go of you. “I’ll see you after the game in the suite. Hope you have fun,” he smiles.

“Oh I will,” you respond. Joe presses a kiss onto your cheek before walking towards the tunnel.

“Wait,” you whisper to yourself. “Wait, Joe!” You yell as you speed walk over to him before he goes out. He quickly turns around, “What’s Wrong?”.

You walk over to him and wrap your arms around his shoulders before moving your face closer to his, pressing a warm kiss on his lips.

“I love you,” you whisper against his lips after you pull away. His eyes widen at your words and his stomach does a backflip. “Knock ‘em dead, Shiesty,” you say as you press another kiss to his lips before walking back to the hallway that leads up to the Suites. He felt absolutely love-struck as he watched you walk away. You said it. You finally said it.

“Damn,” He whispered to himself, a huge smile on his face.

An hour later

The game was going great. Joe was killing it and seemed to have snapped out of whatever came over him the past two weeks. It was the start of the fourth quarter, the Bengals leading 27-21, and you were having the time of your life.

“This is so fucking fun,” you grin as you take another sip of your drink.

“Welcome to the football life my friend,” Jess laughs.

“He’s too good, he is TOO good,” you yell, slightly tipsy since you had a few drinks. You mental note to not drink stadium cocktails because they were so strong, and you were definitely feeling it.

“Ooof, third down and this is a crucial spot,” you say, standing up and moving closer to the railing.

“Let’s see how it goes,” Jess says, putting her drink down and joining you at the railing. You held your breath as you watched the play unfold. Joe took a few steps to the side and a little back and then moved around as the pocket collapsed. He found an opening and launched the ball down the field, all the way into the endzone, which was then caught by Ja’marr for the touchdown.

The crowd erupted at Joe’s impressive movement considering his knee and the amazing throw. “Holy Shit! That was a Dime!” you screamed over to Jess as you jumped up and down.

“Look down there!” she said as she shook your arm out of joy.

You looked down and saw Joe facing the suite, on a knee doing what looked like the ‘archer’ pose, and drawing back his bow and arrow. He smiled as he released the imaginary bow straight up at you. Everyone below you in the stands looked up to see what he was paying so close attention to and saw you.

“Awww,” Jess teased.

You moved your hand to your heart as if you were struck by the bow and stumbled back for dramatic effect, and he noticed. Everyone noticed. He waved at you as he got up and a blush rose on your cheeks. It was very clear that the sign on his heart was still reserved for you by his very public declaration of his love for you. If people hadn’t caught on that Joe Burrow had a girlfriend, they sure knew now.

“I love you,” you mouthed to him as he took his helmet off.

“I love you too,” he mouthed back, setting off fireworks in your heart.

A few hours later

The game ended with the Bengals winning 37-24, and people were raving about how Joe was finally looking like himself again. You had the best time watching him absolutely tear it up. You were currently waiting for him to meet you in the suite, pure dopamine coursing through your veins after that electric game.

You were staring out onto the empty field, taking in the feeling. The bright lights and the poster of Joe being lifted up over his friend’s heads after the win that sent them to the Super Bowl last year on the side of the stadium made this all start to feel real. This was going to be a common thing for you, you belonged here.

You heard the door swing open, meaning Joe was finally here. You turned around and saw him standing there with the biggest smile on his face. You ran over and launched yourself into his arms, pressing maybe a dozen kisses around his face.

“You did so good, Joe,” you say in between kisses. “I’m so proud of you,”.

“Thank You,” he laughs as he holds you closer, never wanting to let go now that he had you for good. “I needed that extra kick from the heroine from earlier,”.

“What Kick?” you asked, incredibly confused.

He burst out laughing once he realized what you were thinking of. “Heroine with an e”, he jokes. “Ya know, a girl with extraordinary characteristics and a great way of going about things,”.

“And am I supposed to be the Heroine?” you said as you tilted your head.

“Yes Ma’am,” he nods.

“But what did I say that gave you the extra kick?” you asked, completely oblivious.

“Oh, you know, the ‘L’ word,” he said.

You paused for a few seconds before shouting, “Oh, you mean love?” as you leaned back a little while Joe nodded. “Yup it is true, I love you! I loveeee you Joe Burrow!,” you screamed at the top of your lungs. Normally you would never think of screaming in public like this, but it was a mostly empty stadium and empty suite. Just the two of you and you felt that feeling so strongly and this was the best way to let it out.

“Are you drunk?” He laughs.

“Maybeee a little. Don’t get mad, those stadium cocktails are not for the weak,” you slur. “But that doesn’t make this any different, I still love you. Sober, Drunk, or High,”.

“I love you,” he laughed before leaning in to press a deep kiss onto your pink lips which caused you to stumble back a little, his grip on your waist incredibly strong like he was never going to let go.

You both stayed in each other’s arms for a few moments, chatting about the game and how he absolutely loved the feeling he got once he saw you sitting in his suite. And you telling him about how much fun you had at your first football game.

“It was amazing,” you said as you both sat down on the couch in the corner. “I’ve never seen anything like that before in my life ,”.

“I’m glad you had fun,” he grinned, reaching over and entwining your fingers.

“I’m so proud of you, I mean you really killed it. I know the last few games were tough and those clowns wouldn’t shut up about their stupid ‘burrow is overrated’ agenda, but you didn’t let that get to you. You went straight for the crown,”.

Joe started laughing which made you a little confused. “What’s so funny?” you asked.

“Just laughing at the scene. I can’t believe you’re here right now and giving me a motivational speech about football,”.

“We’ll get used to it Joe, I think I’m taking a permanent position as your personal cheerleader,” you say as you run your hand through his wet curls.

“God, I love you,” he says, your smile dropping a little which he notices.

“Hey Hey, what’s wrong?” He asks while absentmindedly rubbing your hand to help you relax.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to say it,” you said while looking down at your feet.

“Hey, don’t say that,” he says as he squeezes your hand. “You’re here, that is what matters,”.

“You’re right, I am,” you say as you look back up with a smile. “And I don’t ever plan on leaving. You are what I’ve been waiting for and I finally have what I’ve always wanted. Someone who really loves me and appreciates everything about me. Someone who gets me and makes me feel like I’m on Cloud 9,”.

“I’m done being afraid of Love. You’ve shown me what true love feels like and that you are not like the amateurs. You know exactly how to win a girl over and treat her like she is the most special person in the world,”

“Not only that. You also have someone who is infatuated with you, thinks you’re the coolest girl in the world, the most gorgeous woman to grace the planet, and the most remarkable human being he has ever met,” he adds.

You feel like a breath of fresh air just hit your face and like you could breathe again. It was going to be different this time. It was going to be different because of Joe.

“I love you,” you said to him again.

“I will never get tired of hearing that,” he says as he moves his hand to cup your cheek.

“Good, I’ll never get tired of saying it,” you say as you move your hand onto his which is on your cheek.

“I’m glad we just let things fall into place by itself,” he says. “Well, other than my many attempts to win you over in the beginning. But after I finally won you over, everything was natural. Even this moment,” he says as he moves his hand back to yours, once again entwining your fingers.

“Yeah,” you nod. “Who are we to fight the alchemy?”.

“Alchemy?” He asks as he raises his eyebrow.

“Yup. Same thing as chemistry, but that’s too common of a word to describe this. Alchemy is rare and it’s magical. A kind of transformation that only happens once every few lifetimes,”.

“You turned something broken and dull into gold,” you add. “Alchemy,”.

“Huh, I guess I should use the word Alchemy to describe us from now on,” he says while rubbing your thigh.

You moved closer to his warm body and pressed a slow kiss onto his lips, “Sounds like a plan,”. The love inside of you quickly turned to lust at the sight of your boyfriend plus the alcohol in your system. He looked absolutely mouthwatering. His wet hair from his post game shower, his flowy black shorts, and his partially wet white tee was sending you into overdrive.

“Did I mention how sexy you look wearing my jersey?” he teased as he looked down at your outfit.

“I mean, it is yours so technically you look sexy wearing it too,” you giggled.

“Mmm, you make it look sexier,” he disagrees.

The soft glow of the lamp next to the couch wrapped around you both as you sat on the couch with Joe. The tension between you was palpable, the desire simmering just beneath the surface.

You finally accepted your love for Joe and he was yours. Now you could fully enjoy these moments with him without that nagging thought of getting your heart broken in the back of your mind.

Without saying a word, he reached out and pulled you closer, his lips crashing against yours in a fierce and hungry kiss.

His hands roamed your body, igniting a fire within you that you couldn't control. The physical connection between you was extremely clear once again. You moaned into his mouth as his fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you closer to him. Your bodies pressed together, the heat between you building with every passing second.

You straddled his lap, feeling the hard muscles of his chest beneath your fingertips as you ran your hands over his body, desperate for more. Joe's kisses were fierce and demanding, his passion evident in every touch.

Lost in the moment, you wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss as you became lost in each other. As the intensity of your passion grew, the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you entwined in a heated embrace. And in that moment, nothing else mattered but the raw love you felt for each other.

You pulled away from the passionate kiss, breathless and your chest heaving. You looked into his ocean blue eyes which were filled with love and warmth and said, “I love you Joe Burrow, forever and ever,”.

You weren’t scared anymore. You stopped fighting the alchemy and let the magical transformation happen just like it was supposed to.

—The End—

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fic #joeburrow #joe burrow imagine #nfl imagine

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canthelpit0 · 1 day

Text

Silent

Pairing: Matt x reader

Wordcount: 1.8k +

Summary: you’ve always quietly watched the triplets, silently wishing you could be a part of a group like them. Until you and Matt talk for the first time…

Warnings: selective mutism, anxiety, crying, angst, praise, no use of y/n, no oc

(Disclaimer: I’m not mute in any way. This was a request from an anon that I accidentally deleted. Hope you like it ! Requests are open)

I developed selective mutism pretty early on. My mom says that I didn’t talk even back in kindergarten.

But it’s been years now.

I can talk, and I can’t shut the fuck up for the life of me. I talk a lot, even have full conversations with myself.

Just not at school, or around new people. God, especially not in school.

It’s not like I want to be the ‘ weird’ mute kid. I would love to talk and make friends, I just physically can’t open my mouth and talk.

It even took months for me to utter simple words to my therapist, tho by this point I’ve known her for years and I’m pretty comfortable.

There are these triplets in my grade. We’ve always gone to the same school, but I don’t think they ever noticed me.

Well the first time I noticed them was in first grade, because there were three of them. Of corse my six year old self didn’t understand the concept of multiples back then, and I really wanted to ask, and talk to them. I really thought they were cool.

The first time I interacted with any of them tho was when I was in fourth grade and Nick had asked to use my dark green pencil since he only had light green and needed both dark and light.

Back in fourth grade I wasn’t just selectively mute, but also really shy. So I’d just looked down and stared at the desk giving him a small nod.

In freshmen year I shared a class with Nick again, he asked me for a pen, wich I gave to him.

Despite not having talked to him once in my entire life, he remembered my name. Wich isn’t too shocking since we’ve always been around each other, I was just kinda in the shadows.

He actually gave me that pen back. Most other people would’ve forgotten and just taken it, but Nick didn’t and I appreciated that.

I only ever interacted with Nick those two times. despite sharing a few classes with both Chris and Matt over the years, I’ve probably never even held eye contact with either of them.

I’ve been watching everyone.

Bullying isn’t really a thing. Sure there were some hurtful comments by jocks here and there but it really wasn’t as bad as in the movies.

Besides I think most people forget i even exist so they don’t even bother bullying me.

I’ve had my eye on Matt for a while. Not in a weird way. But Matt seems to pretty obviously have anxiety too. I don’t know if he’s open about it, I’m not in his friend circle.

But every time I’m feeling overwhelmed and we’re in the same room, I unconsciously glance at him to see if he feels the same or if I’m just going crazy.

Chris seems to be the loudest and most extroverted one. And while yes, Nick seems pretty extroverted too, Chris seems more… random? Bold?

I sulk in the back of the class my lips pulled into a tight line as I try to get myself together.

There is literally no reason for me to be feeling like this. Honestly no one has tried to talk to me today, nothing happened, I just feel so overwhelmed.

I raise my hand just slightly. I make eye contact with the teacher. Mrs. Evans. I literally love her, she’s so kind.

Her son is apparently mute too.

When I was diagnosed with selective mutism they thought it’d be a great idea to make me learn sign language just in case, and that’s just what I did.

Since Mrs. Evans son is mute, her son, as well as her and her husband also learned sign language.

So whenever I needed something I could sign to her. Not that I wouldn’t be too embarrassed too.

Our eyes lock. Everyone was working on some paper I should also be doing, but I’m too busy hyperventilating.

I let my hand drop on my desk and glance at the door quietly asking if I can go to the nurses office since I was too tired and ashamed to sign it to her.

She gives me a pitying smile but nods. I hate pity, but then again that’s better than getting told im faking.

I look around the class of students. I get up, as quiet as I can. I pack up my little stuff and quietly walk to the front of the class. I nod in appreciation and walk outside.

I stare at the ground while I walk down the hallway. I sigh.

I feel my eyes start to water and I bite the inside of my cheek.

Honestly I should probably go to the nurses office to get checked out, just so I can leave. But I don’t think I can handle communicating with another human.

I feel like I’m about to break down. I continue to walk down the hallway clutching the straps of my bag harshly.

I consider if driving home even is a good idea seeing as I’m about to have a mental breakdown. Or-

Suddenly I bump into someone.

I close my eyes trying not to cry right then. I don’t know who I bumped into but I want to apologize, but I know that I can’t, and since I don’t know who I bumped into I don’t know if it’s someone who’ll be mean about it or-

I’m taken off guard by a gentle brush to my upper arm.

“You’re good, it’s okay” I hear a soft voice say. I can feel my lip quivering, I feel like if I open my eyes the tears brimming at my waterline will actually fall.

“can you open your eyes?” It sounds more like a question, and that voice sounds painfully familiar but I can’t quite place it.

I want to tell him that I can’t, that I’ll cry if I do and I’ll feel even more embarrassed. But my curiosity takes over me.

So I slightly blink open my eyes. I don’t open my eyes fully, just enough to see the person through my tears.

It’s Matt, looking down at me all concerned.

I blink my eyes open. at the sight I watch his expression relax just slightly.

He himself looks overwhelmed, and honestly I don’t know if it’s because of how I’m acting, or if he had a shitty day himself.

“You okay?” He sighs slightly. I watch as he licks his lips and swallows thickly.

I take in another deep breath trying to calm down. I nod just slightly, but while I do the tears in my eyes finally spill.

I feel my hot tears run down my face. Matt’s eyes immediately widen and his mouth opens slightly like he thinks it’s his fault.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, no please don’t cry.” He holds up his hands in front of my face as if he wanted to wipe my tears away but was holding himself back because he didn’t know my boundaries.

He looked miserable, like he was about to cry himself. And I just know that something this wouldn’t have him emotional like this on a normal day. At least I don’t think it would. But he seemed to be overwhelmed as well.

I scrunch my nose slightly sniffling in response. I glance back up at him and the sorrow in his eyes makes me want to sink into myself. I breathe out shakily.

Before I know it I’m bringing my hands up to my face and covering it. I tilt my head forward trying to stop crying, because crying in the school halls is just pathetic.

“I’m sorry. Fuck- can I touch you?” I hear his frantic voice. I appreciate that he asked first. I want a hug, but then again I don’t know Matt. But he just seems so genuine.

I overthink not responding to his question. My thoughts spiral at the sound of the sweet nothings and apologies leaving his mouth, only being back round noise.

Matt seems to notice that I’m starting to spiral. I feel his hand tenderly touch my wrist. I flinch slightly, and as soon as I do I feel him retract his hand.

Everybody deals with anxiety differently, some people like to be physically grounded others liked to be comforted some other way and I just knew that Matt was trying to figure out what to do without overstepping.

I’d tell him that it’s okay, or that he can hug me, but I literally can’t speak and I feel too embarrassed to let him see my teary face.

“I’m sorry, I’m-“ I hear Matt let out a breath. I know an anxiety breath when I hear one, he is panicking.

I decide to bite the bullet, what’s the worst that can happen. I look up slightly and peak through my fingers.

His hands are up and frozen. He looks almost frantic, Matt looks like the only way he knows how to ground me is by hugging me or something, but he seems unsure if that’s okay.

Despite myself I let out a little nod. Matt lets out another breath but this time he actually touches me, and I don’t flinch.

He holds my wrist and gently pulls my hands off of my face.

I let out a shaky sigh. I can’t help it when I let my head fall forward.

“It’s okay.” He says sweetly under his breath. He puts his hand under my chin as he picks my face up. Our eyes lock. I see the way Matt is also crying, tears running down his face too and I relax just a little.

He never seemed like the type to make fun of someone for crying, but especially not now.

“You wanna go to my car?” He says softly, not in a way where he is forcing me to do anything, but rather offering.

And honestly as upset as i am I have to weigh my options. Would I rather cry in the school hallways or in Matt’s car?

The best option would be to go to the bathroom, but Matt wouldn’t be able to come with, and honestly I would feel too bad leaving him alone at this point.

So I nod.

I feel Matt’s arm go around my shoulders as he hugs me for a moment. He turns me, and starts walking in a way where his arm is still around my shoulder keeping me close to him.

We walk out to the parking lot. I watch as Matt unlocks the car and opens the door for me to enter.

And by this point, if I go out this way so be it…

Before i can even register Matt is also getting into the backseat next to me.

We just look at each other for a moment. He breathes out another anxiety sigh.

“You want a hug?” And with that I don’t really know if he’s asking for me, or to comfort himself. But regardless I nod.

I feel his arms come around me and I sink into the feeling of his hug.

I’m uncertain if by tomorrow he’ll act like this all never happened, or if he’ll try to get to know me, because I’ve been wanting to know him for a while and I would more then gladly let him.

Masterlist

A/n: I know this is really short and I’ve been uploading a lot of angst recently. But I’ve been feeling sad, and every time I do write smut it’s for Kinktober. Soon you’ll get smut tho. Also this ended up a lot like crybaby. <3

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh , @tillies33ssss , @sturncakez , @strnilo , @somegirlfromasgard , @mattslovelygf , @sturnsmaeve , @sturnstvr , @lucianastrun , @jnkvivi , @jamiesturniolo , @chr1sgirl4life

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unheavenlyvision · 21 hours

Text

SLEEP OVER PT.1

pairing: fushiguro toji/reader

wc: 2.3k

summary: staying the night at your boyfriends place for the first time is nervewracking, especially when he seems to feel a certain way about you wearing his clothes

a/n; dilf dilf dilf dilf dilf dilf...uhm anyways...i lurv toji a lot and i needed to write something for him, i thought it would fix me but it may have made me worse :D also, i would like to write a part 2 for this maybe :3

warnings: 18+ only, smut, established relationship, tiny bit of possessiveness, (minor) size difference kink, heavy petting, dry humping, afab!reader, no use of pronouns or y/n, nicknames used; doll, ma'am (once in a joking way)

MDNI | SMUT UNDER CUT

Hovering in Toji’s kitchen, you try to make yourself seem more relaxed, you’ve been in his house plenty of times now but this time is different. This is the first time you’re staying the night, alone, in his house, with him.

Besides heavy petting, nothing more has ever happened between the two of you, to say you have expectations is an understatement. It doesn’t have to happen but you’ve been together for a little bit now and there’s only so long you can hold out, you mean, have you seen Toji?

He’s been patient, you were initially the one who said you didn’t want to rush things, you were scared of just being a lay and asked him to wait until you felt ready, which he has respected. He’s respected it…too well, barely making out before he’s parting from you. The sexual frustration you’ve been feeling has you wound so tight that you might literally implode as soon as he touches you.

From across the counter separating you, he teases, “You gonna help me over here? Or did you propose baking together just to watch me do it for you?”

“Well… I am enjoying the view,” you flirt back, playing off the stiffness in your joints.

He raises a brow at you, “How about you flirt with me while whisking that bowl right there,” he nods down to the bowl just off to his side.

“Yessir,” you stand at attention and throw a little salute his way.

When you round the bench to stand next to him, he bumps into your shoulder with his own, “You feeling okay, doll?”

You hum and look up at him, “Yeah, I’m good.”

It’s mostly quiet after that, aside from small talk and teasing remarks made while you finish prepping the ingredients. You told him that sleepovers needed brownies and he went out and bought stuff to make them, it was incredibly sweet and made you almost swoon on the spot when you showed up and he told you what he’d done.

Unluckily for you and your clumsy nature, his sink sprays a bunch of water down your front as you’re washing a dish. You let out an unceremonious squeaking sound at the sudden rush of cold running all the way down your pyjama shirt, to your pants.

The bowl Toji was holding clatters a bit as he drops it to be at your side, “What happened?” He asks before seeing your drenched clothes, an amused smile taking place where his concern was sitting, “You’re not much help in the kitchen, huh?”

“Hey!” you frown at him, “I am perfectly helpful, thank you very much. It’s not my fault your sink hates me.” You feel like a wet cat under his gaze, “What am I meant to do now? These are the only pyjamas I bought with me,” you pout slightly, looking down at your ruined clothes.

“Just wear something of mine,” he shrugs easily.

The idea of wearing his comfortable clothes makes your skin buzz, “Okay… thank you,” you mumble at him.

He scoffs at your sudden coyness, “You want me to pick something out for you or do you got it?”

“No, I got it,” you smile at him before turning to wander through the house to his room.

Shuffling through his drawers, you find a shirt and some sweatpants to wear. They’re large on you, the whole look incredibly baggy, having to pull the drawstrings on his sweats a bit tighter to make sure they stay up. You feel better though, warm, you hope he won’t mind but you had to borrow a pair of his boxers as well…

When you walk back into the kitchen, Toji does a double take on you, his eyes widening slightly, “You comfy?”

“Very,” you walk up to him, “You finish with the brownie mix?”

He stares at you for a moment before replying, “…Yeah, they’re in the oven.”

“Nice, putting the mix in the tray is my least favourite part, it’s always so sticky and messy and I end up getting frustrated because it won’t all go in and then I need another spoon to get the mix off the spatula and then I have to go back and forth…” You trail off, noticing he’s not really paying attention to what you’re saying, he is looking at you though, “Toji, Something wrong?”

He considers you for a moment, “You look cute,” is all he says.

You feel shy under his gaze now, not expecting him to compliment you so sincerely, “So do you?”

He barks a laugh at your clumsy compliment, “Alright, wanna watch something while we wait?” He changes the topic.

“Sure!”

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

He’s not as subtle as he thinks he is, his hand rests on your thigh, rubbing his thumb in circles but just because he’s not subtle doesn’t mean it’s not working. The tv plays some movie in front of the pair of you but you can’t pay attention, you’ve not retained a single plot point, his warm hand on your thigh is all you can feel, all you can register.

You have a feeling you’re going to have to be the one to break this, the weird limbo you’re both in. Turning your head to the side and looking up, you aren’t ready for how he’s already looking down at you, his hand on your thigh reaches for the side of your face, cradling you gently. He moves in slowly, giving you the chance to pull back in protest if you don’t want him to kiss you.

You want it though and lean up the rest of the way, kissing him deeply, wanting to put your lips on him for nearly the whole time you’ve been here. He meets your eagerness, his hand holding you more firmly, his tongue licking into your mouth, wanting to taste you. His body moves into yours more, his other hand grabbing at your hip.

His kisses grow rushed and he ends up trailing them to your neck, kissing and licking along the exposed skin there. The hand on your face angles you to his will, manoeuvring you every which way so he can get his lips on whatever part of you he desires.

Huffed out whine leave you at the way he nips at your skin, he has enough of the odd angle and pulls you onto his lap completely, sitting back as his hands roam your body over his clothes.

“Toji,” you whine out his name.

His eyes look into yours, “Do you need me to stop?”

Shaking your head at him, you say, “No, I need more…”

“You really do look cute in my clothes,” he murmurs, leaning in again and pressing a full kiss to your lips, “You look comfortable… all wrapped up in my clothes.” He reiterates that they are in fact his clothes you’re wearing.

His hands move under the large shirt, groping at your bare skin, delighting in the warmth and plushness of you. Your body breaks out in goose bumps as a noticeable shiver runs down your spine, his touch electrifying to you.

“My, how sensitive you are,” he teases you, a self-satisfied grin making its way onto his face.

“Shut up,” you snark back, “Just… kiss me again?”

His smile grows, “Yes ma’am,” he jokes before kissing you again.

You’re getting lost in it, in the feel of his lips on yours, it’s making you dizzy and needy. Your hips grind down into his on their own accord and Toji moans against you, surprised by the sudden friction. Recovering quickly, his hands grab your hips and encourage you to keep going, your clothed cunt dragging up and down his covered cock has spots in your vision.

Your hands grip the fabric of his shirt tight, your lips disconnecting from his every time you moan, only for him to press them back together. His dick twitches in his pants, painfully erect and sensitive, he has a feeling he could cum like this.

This is the furthest the two of you have gone so far and he’s not wasting this opportunity, he needs to see you cum, he needs to hear it. The grip he has on you is harsh, his hips rut up into yours which results in the most pathetic sound he’s ever heard coming from you… he needs more.

Pulling back, you whinge, “Toji~ I wan– t more… I want more.”

“Well… I want you to cum while wearing my clothes,” he counters.

You gasp at his blunt words, “I–”

You don’t get the chance to finish your thought, his hips thrusting up, the shock delicious. His dick is leaking profusely in his pants, he’s way too sensitive right now, for his grown age. You’d asked to go slow and he complied but that didn’t mean he didn’t have to furiously jerk himself off after your visits.

Toji’s boxers are uncomfortably wet against your core, slick and stuck to your pussy with how worked up he’s gotten you. All the layers are upsetting you; you just want one less layer, his pants, your pants, you don’t care, you just need more.

“Toji, lemme take off the sweats, please, please, please,” you all but beg at him.

“No. Told you,” he scolds, “I want you cumming in my clothes.”

“Mmm but…” You hesitate.

You’ve caught his interest, quirking a brow at you, he asks, “But what?”

You decide to tell him even though you’re a little embarrassed, “I’m also wearing your boxers.”

He holds you still against him, a sound of objection coming from you at the lack of friction, “You’re wearing my boxers?”

You nod quickly, hoping for this line of questioning to be done soon, “I am.”

“Why?”

You look down, to where you’re sat on top of him, his large cock strained against his pants, you falter slightly in your answer, distracted. Toji’s hand tapping against your thigh brings you back, “Mine were wet from the sink…”

He tugs at the sweats, “Take these off, right now.”

Standing on wobbly legs, you undo the drawstring on his pants and slip them down.

Toji groans at the sight of your bare legs, “Lift up my shirt,” he directs.

Which you do, biting your lip, trying to fight off the urge to run away in embarrassment. Your hands hold his shirt up slightly, exposing to him how you’re wearing his boxers.

His eyes scan your lower half carefully, his heart stuttering in is chest. His light grey boxers dark where your arousal has pooled, “Fuck, come here,” he pats his lap, grabbing you when you’re close enough. “You’re so fucking wet, doll, shit.”

When you’re back on his lap, he wastes no time, his cock rubs between your folds, parting them from under his boxers, the friction different and consuming. This feels so much better than before, it feels almost intense after getting minimal sensation.

“Toji~ I don’t think I’ll last long like this,” you admit, feeling shame from how pathetic you must seem.

“Good,” he groans, his hips thrusting up into yours while his hands drag you back and forth on his cock, “I won’t either.”

To hear he’s just as effected by this as you are makes your cunt pulse around nothing, a whimper leaving you from how pathetically empty you feel, “I still want more,” you pout.

“Later,” he promises.

Your skin buzzes and your stomach clenches, your fingers dig into his shoulders, feeling impossibly close to finishing. Your eyes grow dazed, hot, huffed breaths leaving your parted lips. The sight has Toji’s cock twitching profusely, barely fighting off his orgasm, wanting to see you cum first.

“Come on, doll, I need to see it,” he tugs you quicker, your slick cunt sliding easily against his pants, the wetness seeping through the boxers onto them, “I need to see you cum for me.”

You shudder at his words, “I’m gonna–”

One of his hands leave your hip and slides to your face, his thumb pressing past your lips, you take it and suck on it, tongue licking the pad of it gently. A moan from deep in his chest rumbles under your hands, it’s all too much. Your cunt flutters against him and your eyes roll back, moans muffled around his thumb as your cum gushes from your pussy, coating his boxers even more.

Toji can’t help but watch, he’s watching you so closely, his cock cumming very suddenly. Your orgasm, the dumb look in your eyes, the flutter of your lashes, the shake in your body as you cum in his clothes undoes him. His own cum seeps into his pants, a large, wet stain growing on his sweats as his dick jerks with his orgasm.

He pulls his thumb from your mouth, dragging your lower lip down with it, “Fuck,” he bites out.

He rides out both your highs, lightly grinding his hips up into you as you both come down. Your form collapses into him, curling yourself around him. His arms wrap around you, holding you close as you jolt every now and again, it’s cute, he thinks.

You lay peacefully like this for a moment before you remember, “The brownies,” you try to pull yourself away from him.

“They’re fine, oven went off only a moment ago,” he hums.

“I’ll go grab them then,” you say.

“Alright, shaky, off you go,” he mocks you and your jelly legs.

Pulling back, you frown at him, “I will.”

He just smiles knowingly at you.

Crawling off him carefully, you stand on your shaky legs momentarily before sitting back down on the couch next to him, “Maybe you should go get them.”

“Mhm,” he answers, leaning over he presses a kiss to your cheek, “That’s what I thought.”

You cross your arms over your chest and scowl at him, pretending to be more upset than you actually are.

Toji goes into the kitchen and pulls the brownies out, he calls over to you, “So… I hope you like the corners of your brownies a little crispy.”

You can’t help but laugh at that.

PLAGIARISM NOT CONDONED | REPOSTS NOT AUTHORISED

#visionwrites #toji x reader #toji x reader smut #toji fushigro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro smut #fushiguro toji x reader #toji smut #toji fushiguro x reader smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #toji fushiguro x reader #fushiguro toji x reader smut

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mariasont · 1 day

Note

Hello baby borl can you write a spencer reid x reader where they are kind of awkward but they still are relatively outgoing but they never EVER make the first move so they just vaguely flirt with him but very awkwardly like... maybe they have an obscure favorite animal and they tell him about it and then they compare him to it and its funny bc its like.. a slug or a spider (an animal that many ppl dont like and dont find attractive)

Arachnophobia - S.R

a/n: i dont know if baby borl was a misspelling or not but i am obsessed with it and i will now be referring to everyone as that from this point forward

ALSO thank you so much for the request i <3 an awkward reader truly

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: spencer reid x reader

warnings: spider! ah!, reader climbing on a chair like that's a little dramatic if you ask me, spencer being a little shit, fluffy fluff, cuties being awkward, comparing spencer to a female spider!

wc: 0.9k

"Oh my god!"

You didn't mean for your scream to be as loud as it was, it was more instinctive than anything, not having enough time to stifle it as you hopped upon the closest desk chair. Unfortunately for you, that chair happened to belong to the object of your affection—Spencer Reid, resident boy genius and pretty boy.

Pretty boy was the understatement of the century. He was the embodiment of aesthetic perfection in your eyes, a vision of loveliness that seemed almost otherworldly.

But that all receded to the edges of your brain, your gaze laser focused on the teeny tiny crawler scuttling across the carpeted floor beneath you.

"Is there a reason you're standing on my chair?"

Spencer's eyes were trained on your shoes, a frown forming as he undoubtedly considered the microbial invasion spreading from your soles to his well-maintained seat.

You couldn't say anything, mouth snapped shut as you just pointed to the hairy thing. He quirked an eyebrow, following your gesture before a soft chuckle escaped him, head shaking in the process.

You narrowed your eyes, not finding the same humor in the situation as he was. "Spencer, it's not funny. Get it please?"

"Well since you asked so nicely." He moved towards a box of tissues on his desk. But you grasped his wrist to stop him, your balance faltering, and a tiny squeal escaped you as you teetered on the edge of the chair.

His hold on your hip was immediate, the closest thing in order to stabilize you is how you rationalized it, saving you from an imminent face-to-floor meeting.

"Sorry," you said sheepishly, a low buzz spreading from your head to the spot where his hand enclosed around. "Don't kill it."

He gave you a pointed look, but then grabbed a plastic cup by the water cooler. You missed his hands on you the second he was gone.

He crouched down to where the spider was crawling around, carefully shoveling it into the cup.

"Don't hurt its legs!"

"I feel like there is a lot of protesting coming from someone who can't even put their feet on the ground right now."

That shut you up. A soft pout found its way to your lips as you folded your arms defensively. His smirk grew at the sight, and you couldn't stop the delightful warmth that bubbled up inside your chest, sticky and potent.

"Once the spider is at a safe distance then I'll come down," you said with a shrug.

He expertly secured the paper over the clear cup's mouth, trapping the spider inside. "All clear."

You watched his hands warily, your lips forming a tight line as you stayed put, eliciting an exasperated eye roll from him.

"It's not going to hurt you."

"You don't know that."

He angled the cup towards the light, inspecting the bug with a squint.

"It's unlikely you'll ever be bitten by a spider. They aren't interested in humans. They don't seek us out like mosquitoes or ticks do." He moved the cup in your direction. "This is just a common house spider, known scientifically as Parasteatoda tepidariorum. Completely harmless."

"It doesn't look completely harmless to me," you countered, wrinkling your nose and leaning back.

You almost lost your balance. Again. His hands found your waist. Again.

"How about you come down now?"

"Right, sorry I know you're probably freaking out about my outdoor shoes on your chair."

His hand moved to grab yours as you stepped down. "I'm more concerned about the potential of you cracking your skull."

You beamed, a wide smile lighting up your features as you planted your feet firmly on the carpet. "Eh, I'm pretty much indestructible."

"Tell that to the spider."

You tried to glare at him, but you were sure it came off softer around than edges than you intended, because you weren't really annoyed. Spencer's ease in teasing you was a recent development, it had taken ages to get to this point. The roles used to be reserved, but then you fell in love with him, and now every word you spoke had been nothing but overthought and stiff.

"He is a little cute actually." You stepped closer, gingerly at that, maintaining a safe distance just in case Spencer decided to pull any funny business.

"Well, he's a she."

"Oh, how impolite of me," you said, as you crouched down to bring yourself face-to-face with the spider.

"Interestingly, the female common house spiders are known for its problem-solving abilities when capturing prey. If the first attempt doesn't work, it will try different strategies, which shows a level of adaptability and intelligence."

"Awh, she's kind of like you, isn't she?"

You wanted to slap a hand over your face. You sounded like an idiot. His eyes narrowed, and then that charming little smile broke through, a little uneven, making him all the more appealing.

"That feels offensive."

You couldn't help but laugh, your eyes crinkling in response. "It's not, I swear, that was supposed to be a compliment."

"I'd be careful with those compliments, wouldn't want to inflate my ego too much."

Maybe tomorrow you'd tell him how you feel. Probably not.

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x awkward reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x you

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flemingsfreckles · 23 hours

Text

Physio’s Daughter Pt 8

Read the other 7 parts HERE

Warnings: cursing, suggestions to sex, mentions of throwing up, that should be it!

WC: 4.8k

A/N: hello 👋

“Really? You still have interest?” Jessie looks baffled, her eyes wide with raised eyebrows.

“Oh don’t act so surprised, you saw me staring earlier.”

“Yeah I did.” She smiles, thinking back to how she had intentionally wiped her forehead while facing in your direction. She was more than pleased with herself when she put back down her shirt to see you had been watching.

“Look, you said terrible things, and if anything even remotely close to that happens again, I will never speak to you again. But Jessie I really like you. I want to give you a second chance even though maybe I shouldn’t but I’d like to believe what you and Janine both said is true. This isn’t your typical behavior, you’re just under a lot of pressure.”

“I promise I’m not usually like this.”

“I know, that’s why I like you. But that’s also why this is so frustrating and why the other night hurt me so much. I know you’re not usually like this, I know how kind and caring and sweet you are. And if it wasn’t for all this, the fact that we work together, in this dynamic, I would’ve asked you out on a proper date weeks ago.” It’s true, if you haven’t worked with her, if you’d met her at school, at a cafe, just walking down the street, you would’ve already taken her out. You would’ve asked her on dates, but you couldn’t, not when you worked together.

“Then fuck all this,” she gestures to the room and the Canada logo on her own training top. “Just ask anyway.”

“I don’t want to get you or myself in trouble.” You look at the logo on her shirt, it wasn’t that easy to just say fuck it to the team, the team Jessie had represented since she was 15.

“We can talk to whoever we need to.” She spits out.

“Oh be for real Jessie we haven’t even gone on a date, we don’t need to be in Helen’s office signing paperwork already.” You give her a smile, it was nice she was willing to talk to Helen but a little too early.

A smile breaks on Jessie’s face. “Okay, maybe that was a little premature.” The smile from her face fades as she speaks again. “So, maybe we go with the original plan? Wait until these games are over, see where we’re at?”

You nod in agreement. “But for now, coworkers.”

“Coworkers.” Jessie repeats looking at you before a mischievous smile comes across her face.

“What?” You ask, somewhat afraid of what her answer might be.

“This is I think the third time we’ve agreed to be coworkers.” She scoffs.

“No, this time I’m serious.” You do your best to give her a stern look.

“You said that last time.” She laughs

“Shut up.” You can’t help but laugh with her, you two were terrible at being coworkers.

“At least it’s only a few more days and one more game.” She says softly after she’s done giggling.

“Only one more game.”

You quickly found yourself getting ready for that final game. The reality that you were helping prep players for an Olympic gold medal match had you a little extra nervous. Canada was taking on Spain. Reigning World Cup Champions Spain.

The first 90’ minutes of the game felt like they went by in a blink. When the whistle blew the score remained 0-0. Both teams had good shots, both keepers making impressive saves.

The extra time came and went as well and suddenly you felt like you were back a few days ago.

Penalties. Again.

You watch the first few players step up. Julia makes her penalty 1-0, a Spain player makes her’s as well, 1-1. Feeling overwhelmed, you stare at the ground for the next few players. You watch your feet, you don’t even need to watch. You can hear the silence followed by the kick and you get the answer on save or miss through the reactions of the staff standing next to you. Chloe misses, 1-1, Spain makes theirs 1-2, Jordyn makes it 2-2, a player from Spain misses 2-2, Ashley makes her kick, and the Spanish player misses wide, 3-2.

You feel a quick pinch at your side where your Mom’s hand was resting around your waist. You look up to her and she subtly nods toward the field. You turn and watch as Jessie picks up the ball. You can practically feel the air get sucked out of your lungs. She was taking Canada’s fifth and final kick. If she makes it, it’s over. If she misses, Spain has the chance to tie.

You watch her meticulously place the ball, adjusting it a few times. Once she’s satisfied with the ball, she takes three steps back, and looks down, closing her eyes for a moment. You held your breath, beginning to subconsciously time how long she was waiting. You started to panic, feeling like you could puke, it felt like she was waiting too long again, or maybe it just felt like time had frozen. Jessie opened her eyes, and began her approach. She kicked it and you watched as the ball slammed against the back of the net.

You’re practically yanked onto the field by those around you, you’re not even sure where you were running besides the mass of red and white in front of you. You end up in the mob of bodies, receiving random hugs from whoever was around you. You kept your eyes scanning hoping to find Jessie, her height not helping her stand out. You also know she’s likely in the middle of the mass of her teammates, scoring the winning penalty.

As the initial celebration dies down, the players begin to spread out. Some find their families in the crowd, others moving to sit and soak in the moment. You keep your eyes scanning, hoping to find the girl with the armband.

While you’re busy spinning in circles looking for her, someone grabs your hand from behind.

“Come here.” The captain had found you before you could find her. Jessie grabs your hand, pulling you out and away from the crowd. The two of you move over to the side of the pitch, not far off from her teammates but enough to be in your own space. She turns you toward her, dropping your hand.

“I thought about you.” She says, tears in her eyes, her hands holding your face between them, her thumbs gently rubbing your cheeks. “I thought about you when I took that kick. You were my calm person.”

“I almost threw up.” You admit to her.

“What?” Jessie says, a mix of concern and a smile across her face. Her hands are still on your cheeks.

“I was so nervous watching you kick.”

“Oh.” She laughs. “You’re the reason I wasn’t nervous.” You’re grateful Jessie was able to quickly move past the fact that you had almost thrown up from nerves, embarrassed that you even said it to her.

“Congratulations, you deserve it Jessie.” You say, finally getting out the words you prepared and meant to say when you first saw her.

“I wouldn’t have been here without you, you deserve this too.” Her eyes are still locked with yours. You both stand listening to the rest of the team celebrate behind you. You both break eye contact hearing some screaming getting louder.

“Wooooooooo” you watch as Janine goes running by, a flag in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other hand with Jordyn and Julia following shortly behind her yelling to give them back the bottle. You watch as Jessie rolls her eyes at her teammate’s behavior. You both turn back toward each other. This time Jessie’s eyes move down to your lips, then to your eyes and back to your lips. She moves her head slightly toward you.

“Jessie.” You warn her, you don’t want her to stop but you want to remind her that you’re both standing in a packed stadium with hundreds of cameras taking photos.

“Who cares.” She whispers before she starts to lean in again. You start to close your own eyes, not leaning in, wanting this to be her choice to kiss you in front of her team, her coaches, her family that was likely here.

“Congratulations Jessie.” You hear a voice you know all too well to the side of you. One of your Mom’s hands coming down on your shoulder while the other comes down on Jessie’s shoulder. You feel a slight push back on you, breaking up how close you and Jessie were.

Jessie’s hands fall from your face as she turns to look at your Mom.

“Oh, um, thank you, hey congratulations to you too, none of us would be here without all your hard work.”

“Thank you Jessie, assuming you were just thanking my daughter as well?” Your Mom gives you a quick glance, you know she’s teasing both of you, Jessie doesn’t get the message, trying to explain herself.

“Yeah, of course. I mean, she’s been great, um obviously, with my injury of course, my calf, she helped me a lot. I was thanking her for all that.” The way Jessie starts to stutter, tripping over her words as she tries to subtly deny the fact that she was about to kiss you, it was cute. You’re sure if she wasn’t already red in the face from playing, her cheeks would be from embarrassment.

“Hey if I don’t see you again before you players go out tonight, be safe, look out for each other.”

“We will.” Jessie assures your Mom before she walks away leaving you two again.

“She really has impeccable timing doesn’t she.” Jessie looks at you.

“She does.” You say before muttering “cockblock” under your breath only it comes out a little bit louder than you expected.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

You both stand for a second, your chance to kiss clearly over as you’ve both been brought back to reality of standing in the stadium, Jessie’s teammates still running around. You watch as she scans the crowd before her head stops moving and she waves.

“There’s my family.” She points in the direction she waved in and you see a small group of people waving back at her.

“Go.” You shove her in their direction and she looks at you giving you one last smile before taking off running in their direction. You watch her, looking at the back of her jersey as she runs away to be pulled into a group hug. You turn back to go find the rest of the staff, giving your congratulations to whoever you passed in a Canada shirt as they did the same back to you.

The stadium is soon only filled with a sea of red, the Spain supporters leaving. The podiums are brought out at you watch as they begin to set up for the medal ceremony.

The team is quickly ushered back into the changing rooms put on their designated podium outfits. They quickly come back out, lining up to step up and receive their medals.

You stand off to the side, watching as France steps onto the bronze medal platform, followed by Spain. And then you watch as the Canadian team steps up. You can’t help but feel tears in your eyes, watching the girls that you’ve been working with for countless days helping at training, at matches, helping them stretch on the bus or in a hotel room, all those moments, all they had worked for and they did it. You watched as they got their medals Jessie receiving hers from Janine and putting one around Sabrina’s neck.

You watched as Jessie picked up the medal around her neck, examining it with her hands, flipping it around. You watch as Janine leans over, saying something into Jessie’s ear, Jessie immediately picking up her head and looking in your direction. She gives you a smile when her eyes meet yours. Janine must’ve noticed you staring and told her. You give her a thumbs up before they begin playing all the national anthems.

Once the ceremony is finished you stand around a bit longer, watching all the players soak in the moment together. You find yourself catching Jessie’s eye every once in a while until she finally makes her way over to you.

“You’re coming out with us, right?” She slings an arm around your shoulder.

“Tonight?”

“Obviously, we’re going to go celebrate, we’ve got a bar rented out.” You had heard discussions of the post game celebrations, but never really read into them too much, you didn’t want to get too ahead of yourself thinking they’d win, it felt like you’d jinx them.

“I don’t want to intrude, if it’s a player thing.”

“It’s not, everyone’s invited, coaches, staff, families, everyone.” Jessie turns so her lips are against your ear. “Plus, I want you to be there.” She says quietly. You feel your skin prickle at her low voice and the feeling of her breath on your body.

You stumble over your own words as you agree to meet them at the bar later, your brain short circuiting from the feeling of her lips against your ear. “Oh, then yeah I’ll be there.”

You quickly found yourself a couple drinks in, courtesy of the Canadian foundation, in a rather large, but dark bar. Loud music and conversation filling the air. You had only arrived about an hour ago, thankfully it was within walking distance from the hotel. You had gone back and changed into a nicer pair of gray jeans and a simple Canada sweatshirt. Since you opted to change you did not arrive at the same time as Jessie, you had been unable to find her since arriving. You felt like you were back searching for her on the field after the match. Most of the players had remained in their sweatsuits, some changing into other t-shirts, sweatpants. You had found just about every other player, who all led you astray in which direction they last saw their captain.

You make your way back to the bar to get another drink, deciding you’ll just go sit with Olivia and the rest of the staff at the table they had occupied.

“Hey, where have you been?” You feel hands grab tightly onto your hips and you turn to see the brown eyes you’ve been looking for.

“Hi, I changed.” You gesture down to the fact that you were no longer wearing athletic clothing like you did while at work. “but I’ve been here an hour or so, I’ve been running around looking for you.”

“I’ve been looking for you.” Her eyes graze over your body. “You look good.” You can smell the alcohol radiating off of Jessie you’re not sure if it’s alcohol she’s consumed or if it’s just a mix of the champagne that was sprayed across her skin in celebration along with the smell of the bar. Her hands are still firm on your hips. “Come here.” She gently tugs you away from the bar.

“Hang on, let me grab this.” You reach for the beer the bartender had placed in front of you and then let yourself be pulled away.

She moves to grab your free hand instead and keeps pulling you, through the mass of red and white, back to the back corner of the bar and into a small hallway.

“Where are we going?” You ask when she finally stops walking.

“Here, where it’s just you and me.” Her hands find their way back to your hips and she pushes you back so you’re against the cool brick wall. “So we can do this.”

Her hand comes up to your cheek as it did after the game, but this time it doesn’t stop at your cheek she keeps moving it to the back of your neck, gently pulling you toward her and she moves in. This kiss was different than the rest, the rest had been timid, soft, gentle. This kiss was firm, her lips starting to move against yours immediately, its only a few seconds before you feel her tongue against your lips. You part your lips and let your own tongue graze against hers. You get the answer to your earlier question as you can taste the tequila and what you think is vodka on her tongue. The taste has you pulling back.

“Hey.” Jessie protests, a frown across her face.

“Are you drunk?” You put your hand without the beer against her chest, holding her back from leaning in to kiss you again.

“What?” She cooks her head at you.

“Are you just making out with me because you’re drunk? I can taste the liquor.”

“No you idiot, I mean yes I’ve been drinking, but I’m not drunk, plus I’ve wanted to makeout with you for weeks.”

“Okay but we’re in public. You team could see.” It’s not that you don’t believe her when she says she’s not drunk, it’s just you couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy with her choices to suddenly makeout with you in a bar, knowing she had definitely consumed something.

“I don’t care.”

“Jessie, no.” You step away from her..

“What? Oh come on? Because I’ve had three drinks? How many have you had?” She posed a fair question, she had had just as many drinks of you but you had been at the bar for far less time, if anyone was the problem here it would’ve been you.

“I just think you’re not fully considering the consequences of making out with me in a public bar. When you’re sober, we can do this.”

She leans down close to you and you think she’s going to kiss you again, but she brings her mouth toward your ear. “Okay, then I’m done drinking because I want to makeout with you. I promise I’m not drunk, not even tipsy, but if you want to wait that’s fine.”

“Okay.” You reply and Jessie turns walking back into the room. You follow her and watch as she makes her way to the bar, when she turns back she has two bottles of water in her hands.

“You should drink if you want to drink, it’s your night to celebrate.” You say when she comes over to your side, shaking one of the bottles of water at you. You don’t want to be the reason she doesn’t celebrate.

“No, I’m not a big drinker anyway, I had already decided to be done, I just got peer pressured into some shots with some of the youngsters when I first got here.” She takes a large sip of water.

“Jessie.” Your conversation is interrupted by hearing someone call from behind you and a girl runs up to her followed by two other men and a woman.

“Hi! Oh I’ve miss you.” Jessie takes the girl into a tight hug before releasing her and moving onto the next person hugging the next person.

“We’re so proud of you honey!”

“Thanks Mom.” Jessie mutters into the women’s hug. That's when you’re able to make the connection, this was Jessie’s family standing in front of you.

“This is my family, my mom, dad, sister and brother.” She points to each person. She introduced her family to you. She starts explaining how you’ve helped her with her injuries, and how you help everyone with stretching and staying healthy. She’s singing your praises to her family, making you blush standing next to her.

You stick around for a couple minutes as Jessie continues to talk about you. Not wanting to force her family to listen to stories about you, you tell Jessie you’ll be over at a table and leave her to enjoy the moment with her family.

You slide into a booth next to Janine and a few other people you didn’t know, assumed friends and family of the team. It doesn't take long for Janine to bring up the topic of Jessie.

“Just so you know,” Janine claps her hand hard against your back, giving you a slight shake. She leans in close to you. “I’m spending tonight, and probably the rest of the nights we’re here in his hotel room.” She points at the man next to you who now you recognize from photos to be her fiancé. “So there won’t be someone else in Jessie’s room.” You pull back to just look at her, you couldn’t believe what she was implying.

Janine must’ve thought you didn’t understand what she was suggesting when you didn’t respond. “Ya know, if you and a certain someone want to-”

“I know what you meant!” You spit out quickly. Taking a sip of the water you had. Upon your snappy response Janine quickly changed the subject, eying up the medal around her neck again, showing it to her fiancé.

It wasn’t long before you felt the booth sag next to you and Jessie alone with her sister found themselves next to you in the booth.

“Elysse!” Janine exclaims reaching over you and Jessie to attempt to hug the girl. Both of them leaning in pushes you and Jessie practically into each others laps.

“Sorry.” You apologize to Jessie, it wasn’t your fault but you felt like you were squishing her.

“All good.” She gives you a sweet smile before returning to her own personal space as Janine removes herself from across you two.

“Hey.” she slaps Jessie’s leg getting her attention. “I just finished telling this one that-” You almost go to cover Janine’s mouth with your hand. You know she’s been drinking and you also knew what was about to come out of her mouth. But you don’t stop her, instead you tilt your head down clenching your eyes hoping it’ll stop Janine’s words, only it doesn’t. “I’ll be in Ethan’s hotel room the rest of the trip, if you want to use it.”

“Oh.” You can feel Jessie’s eyes burning into the side of your head as you slowly open your eyes and send a pointed look in Janine’s direction.

“What?” She says, reading the uncomfortable looks you and Jessie were both giving her. “Oh what, do you two really think you’re doing such a good job of keeping it secret? You were practically making bedroom eyes at each other during the medal ceremony today.”

“Janine!” Jessie shouts at her friend before just shaking her head. You finally have the courage to take a glance at Jessie, her eyes are wide, she looks uncomfortable, you can also see her sister behind her looking between you and Jessie, trying to stifle a laugh.

“Alright, it might be time to get you out of here.” Janine’s fiancé says, grabbing Janine’s hand as he stood up. He gives a quick wave at the table, half as an apology, half as a goodbye. You all wave back to him and Janine and they walk into the mass of people.

You sat for a little bit longer, some teammates coming to join your table for a few minutes to chat before they’d run off to talk with someone else. It was only an hour later that Jessie’s Dad found his way to the table. “Jess, we’re going to get out of here, it’s late and we’re not young anymore, we’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah of course.” Jessie responds, she smacks your leg a few times then pointing to the side of you. You get the hint and stand up to let her out of the table. You watch as she stands up giving her Dad a tight hug.

“Coming now or later?” Her Dad looks at Jessie’s sister.

“Now, just give me a second to use the restroom.” She nods and her Dad walks away after they agree to meet outside.

“I don’t have to pee, I just wanted him to walk away. You two enjoy your night without Janine.” She says with a wink and a look between the two of you. You look over to Jessie who’s sporting a blushed red face. Her sister stands up to hug her and whispers something into Jessie’s ear, making her turn even more red. She gives you a quick wave and heads in the direction of the door.

“I think I’m going to call it a night too, feeling tired.” You say, suddenly feeling the exhaustion of the day hit you all at once. A yawn coming out of your mouth.

“I was actually thinking the same thing.” Jessie flashes you a smile. “Would you want to walk together?” You’re not sure if Jessie actually was ready to go or just decided she was going to leave since you were.

“That would be nice.” You take the empty water bottle from her hand and toss it onto the bin with yours. “Do you need to say bye to anyone?” Jessie just shakes her head.

“Do you?” You shake your head back. Your Mom had gone out with some of the older training staff, not wanting to be in a rowdy bar, Olivia was still around but you’d text her later letting her know you were back in your room. You’re not sure even if you said goodbye to anyone if they’d remember it in the morning or not.

The night was quiet when you stepped outside of the bar, Jessie shortly behind you. You start walking in the direction of the hotel and she quickly jogs to catch up. The two of you walk side by side down the roadway.

“Does it feel different the second time?” You break the silence asking.

“Does what feel different?” Her pace slows down as she turns her head to look at you.

“Winning gold.”

You hear her breathe in and then watch as she tilts her head slightly, deep in thought.

“It’s different, but I’m not sure if it's the winning that’s different. Last time it was an empty stadium, we didn’t get to do the celebrations with family and friends, there weren’t people watching, it felt so isolated, but it was in a weird way more peaceful. We got to just sit on the field, really soak it in.” She took another breath. “We didn’t get to do that, even if we could’ve there would’ve been fans, it would’ve been rowdy. Not to say one is better than the other, but yeah it’s different. I also wasn’t captain last time, so this time was more stressful, I felt like a lot of it was on me. Even though I know it wasn’t, it just felt that way.”

You hum acknowledging her answer as you walk into the lobby of the hotel. It’s thankfully pretty empty, Jessie's teammates still out celebrating and only a few other country’s athletes sitting around. You both get into the elevator, you press the button and you can feel a tension building as you ride up in silence. When you get out you walk Jessie to her door first, wanting to be polite and make sure she gets in alright.

“I’m sorry if Janine made it weird earlier. I'm not sure why she said that. I mean I get it but, I don’t want you to think I told her that was going to happen or anything. I don’t expect it to.” Jessie turns before she puts her keycard to the door.

“It’s all good. Little uncomfortable, especially with your sister there but it’s alright.” You shrug. It was uncomfortable but you didn’t mind too much, you had already forgotten about the conversation until Jessie brought it up again.

“Yeah, I’m sure I’ll have to explain myself to her later, she thought it was funny, she teased me for how red I got.”

“Yeah.” You both stand awkwardly outside of Jessie’s hotel room, you shift your weight between your feet, swaying slightly.

“Um, do you want to-”

“Have a goodnight-”

You both speak at the same time.

“Go ahead.” She gestures to you.

“I was just going to say goodnight.” You didn’t want to invite yourself into her hotel room despite Janine’s offer.

“Oh, yeah okay.” You can tell she seems a little disappointed.

“What were you saying?”

“I was going to invite you in?” Jessie looks up at you, her eyes with a glimmer of hope in them. She blinks quickly a few times before adding “Only if you want to, you don’t have to, I’m not expecting anything, you don’t even have to stay very long if you don’t want to, I just thought,”

“Jessie.” You cut her off, able to tell she was starting to overthink by the way her hands were fidgeting. “I’d like to come in.” You say before you lean down, now it’s her back pressed against the wall as your lips find hers. You pull away before any of her teammates or god forbid your mother decides to take a trip down the hallway and sees you two. Jessie turns to unlock the door and you follow her inside. You pull your phone out quickly texting Olivia.

You: Probably not coming back to the room at all tonight, or if I do it’ll be late, don’t worry about me I’m safe.

It takes a minute but she responds.

Olivia: Thanks for the heads up, I expect all the details of your escapades tomorrow

Olivia: seriously though, be safe, don’t do anything stupid.

You look up from your phone over at Jessie, thinking to yourself at least if you “do” anything, it wasn’t considered doing anything stupid, Jessie was smart.

#jessie fleming #jflem #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming imagine #woso imagine #woso x reader #canwnt x reader #jessie fleming blurb

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unluckilyimnot · 3 days

Note

Hiii i love ur work so i wanted to request smth 🫶

Them with a s/o who is very short lol (like 5'0")

I would appreciate it if you could do this with rin, sae, yoichi and kaiser!!

Have a good day 🩷

Short s/o – rin, sae, yoichi, kaiser, hiori

m.list | rules

note: hiii thank you sm for your request <3 that’s basically my height so I know very much what it’s like

Rin

he doesn’t pay much attention at first, he’s not with you because of your height

but as time goes, he can get used to rest his head on top of yours

also pass his arm around your shoulders to bring him to him if necessary – he’s always kind of shy when your head hit his chest

loves it a lot when you sit between his legs to watch a movie because he can have you close and never worry about not seeing it well

you’ll only get confession about him liking it when it’s really late, sleep is already heavy on his eyes and he pulls you closer

you feel minuscule against his body and he’ll confess how down bad he is for you because you’re so small and cute, it pains him

never mention it tho, he’ll get sulky

Sae

acts normal about it but always hold your hand in the crowd because he’s scared to lose you

also scared to lose you in huge store so he just tag along – if you wear one particular piece that is colorful he’ll look for that instead

he once scold you because he lost you, but not before holding you close or kissing your forehead after checking you were alright

your forehead is were he kiss you the most in fact ‘cause it’s so easy access, it’s asking for it

hold you close to him when you sleep because, 1 he has to keep you warm, and 2 you’re so small he feels like he had to make sure nothing happens to you

deep down he’s down bad for it but doesn’t show it much and acts like he doesn’t care

he still put stuff on the top shelf sometimes for you to ask him for help

he got tricked a few times in fact because you just got on the furniture to get it yourself

his beige flag is that he manhandle you when you annoy him on purpose

Isagi

he’s the cutest ever I know that for sure

he’s afraid to offend you at first I think but he’s honest and tell you very quickly how cute you are, being so small

it never really stopped after that, even before you started dating he kept on telling you that you were cute

same as rin, he loooves to lay his head on top of yours

he bend to look at things with you but in a respectful, cute, head over heels for you way

holds you all the time when you’re home with him

hold him for behind, nuzzle your nose between his shoulders and he’s on his knees crying about how cute you are

fake crying about it sometimes (my gf does that)

he knows that not your whole personality but damn that’s still very cool to him to have a small s/o

Kaiser

he rest his arms on your head or shoulder to bother you all the time tbh

he’s annoying for sure but at the same time he’s probably whipped for you bc you’re so SMALL

he can grab you all the time so easily

the way you hit on his chest at best and your head rest on his arms when you’re tired and need to recharge

he loves to hold you to his chest in general

grab your chin up to kiss you or force you to go on tip toes to be able to kiss him

but also tells everyone you’re the cutest human being

he can’t help but melt if you pull his shirt or sleeve to kiss his cheeks or lips

you’ll catch him blush more than you might expected

he’s the type to tell you that you’re cute to tease you and see you blush

Hiori

he has a whole album on his phone dedicated to pictures you looks small, you know like those type of pictures for kpop idol

when you’re laying on a bed, rolled into a ball or if you’re standing a certain way and he founds you so cute

he can’t help but giggle every times and snap a picture

you’re totally aware of it the second he laugh that way and you ended up whining at him

probably the less shy after kaiser to tell you that he finds you cute

he wants to hold you close all the time I think, he’s in love with how small you feel against him

lays his head on your shoulder if he catches someone staring at you or if they’re flirting with you

but also does this to simply check what you’re looking at on your phone or read before your shoulder with you

I hope you liked it !

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dark-night-hero · 2 days

Text

When Geto Suguru left and turn his back on the jujutsu sorcerer, you also vanished in the picture. But unlike him who left to be a villain, you left because of simple things. You are tired. Tired of understanding why and how. How and why does things ended up the things as it was right now. Why did Suguru did that? He left without a word. He left like it way nothing, he turn his back into his friends and of course you. So instead of turning your back into the world of jujutsu sorcery, one you known to be your world form as far as you can remember and stray on the wrong path. You retired, left the academy and ever looked back.

And your friends. Your friends understand, your classmates understand. As much as they want you back. You look tired. You look like you needed a rest. So they leave you be, hoping as time passed by, you will heal within the process. So they let you go, occasionally checking up on you and you did the same. Turning your back from the world you once live in, you have now strayed into a new and unfamiliar path. The one that is so unfamiliar yet somehow seemed more peaceful than ever.

The step back out of the world of Jujutsu was something that you have never thought to be refreshing. You have never realize life could have been so easy from the way you are living your life in the past. Maybe that was one of the reason why you never go back. Even after your junior went back. You never did. Life has been so peaceful nowadays. Although once in a while, a letter would came someone. You never opened it, just by picking up the scent coming from the letter, you knew where and who it came from. You never bother looking at it nor reading it, finding no reason to do so. He was just someone from the past.

Geto Suguru was just someone from your past, like a chapter in your book you never wanted to go back. He was the one who caused you so much pain, so much pain that you no longer enjoy the things you loved. You hate him a lot. That is why for the past few years, even after all that happened, you never wanted to hear about him. And his and your friends understood that and never tell you anything about him. In the first place, Suguru was a very sensitive topic for all of you.

You were living the life you once thought would never fit you, away from the messy world of jujutsu. Away from the remains of your past and the one you once love, now loathed. Away from the love you once had and the dreams you once shared would come true. It was now all as deep as the box in your basement, the one that kept those letters away, never to be open now nor in the near future. Long ago, from the moment he turned his back into you, into all of you. The moment he left without a word, you had long stopped hoping and expecting words of explanation from him. What is the use? It is not like it would make you hurt less, it was not like he would come back to you. It is useless.

So you wonder why you are here, years after not saying or acknowledging his presence, his presence that never seemed to go away even after all those years, fulling knowing he was somewhere by your side, even from faraway. You wonder why you are here, back in the academy where both of you have left from coming and taking a different path. Years after years of ignoring his letters, there you are right in front of the man you vowed to hate until one of you dies. You wonder why you are here, staring at the man that was once the love of your life looking quite unfamiliar. He looks old just like the rest of you. Maybe it was the time that have passed by, maybe it was the distance from back then. But the two of you looked nothing alike like yesterday. The two of you have changed. Yet it seemed like the way the two of you looked at each other remained the same.

With a sigh, you walked passed Gojo and went close to Suguru and crouching beside him. "Look at where your path takes you." "What are you doing here?" He asked, he never expected to see you here while he was on his last breath. "I thought you had plans." His statement made you scoff, knowing fully well why he knew about that. Nevertheless you stayed on topic and move even closer to him. "You're dying." You sat right beside him and even lean on the wall he was leaning on. "We alreay knew that." He chuckled. "Have you read my letters?" He asked, head suddenly leaning on your shoulder, but you never seemed to mind, completely ignoring that fact. "No." You answered truthfully.

"I..." He let out a shaky- painful breath as if trying his best to last on a little longer. "I thought love was enough to save me." You did not reply, you just stand there by his side unmoving. "I thought you were enough for me to hold one." He let out a tired sigh and you felt his weight shift upon you. He sounds tired. "I'm sorry." He added. "I hope that one day, you'll be able to forgive me." "I have forgiven you long ago." You spoke, looking head of you. It was not a lie, its true that you hate him, you still do. But it was also true that you had long forgiven him. "You-" He laugh like he was not bleeding to death. "You two should at least curse me at the end." You paid no attention at his nonsense. In stead, your hand find its way on the side of his face, caressing it gently before saying. "Take a rest, Suguru."

My dearest,

How have you been? Although you might not be to pleased to know but I am alright. With my family right beside me I could say that I am alright. Also like I have told you on my previous letter, I think that I have been raising my girls wrong, they've become to spoild for my liking. Then again, that pits the blame on me, don't you think? It is just as you have once told me to I would become, someone who spoil their child rotten beyond their control which is yet to come but is perhaps tilting that way haha. Looking at you from afar, you seemed to be doing well. The gift that I have sent to you last time looked so well on you, I'm glad you seemed to take a liking into it. I thought your preference would change but it seemed like it remained the same as it was all those years ago. For a while, this might the the last letter I will be sending as things are quite geeing busy nowadays. If the mission were to be successful, then be sending you more letters and gifts in the future. But if it were to fail... would it be to much for me to wish for you to come and see me again?

Your love, Geto Suguru.

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i-mean-yeah-whatever · 1 day

Text

Every time I read an anti-Bucktommy take it's like they don't understand what they're watching. Like, no understanding of how fiction works at all and a criminal lack of media literacy. And also unable to follow a simple story.

A tv show like 911 will never be like their favorite friends to lovers fics where everything they want to see on-screen is made into words, every little thought, every gesture is described in a flowery way, every single line is doctored to fit the fandom's expectations, using very specific tropes. This is fanwork, this is our business, we love it, we cherish it but this is our stuff.

911 is a tv show. It'll use many types of tv writing techniques to get to the point while having to deal with budgetary constraints, marketing needs, political restrictions and more. Could they have done a better job with reintroducing Tommy? Absolutely. Does it work as it is? Of course, if we're actually looking at what and how they tell on-screen.

A (long) BuckTommy timeline.

🚁 7x03 - Tommy and Buck meet on the day of the rescue, even before we see Buck, Chim and Eddie in the chopper. They first meet off-screen. We don't know what happened then, we don't know how they looked at each other, if they smiled at each other, if they even talked directly to each other. But they met before we see them in the chopper.

We know by what happens later that Tommy makes a strong impression on Buck (who is already in the middle of a real life crisis). We can also assume that Tommy is attracted to Buck based on his looks (and probably also affinity, they do the same job, never underestimate the homoerotic power of male camaraderie), something we also understand later, so it works (but also, the way he looks at Buck at the end of this episode is a subtle hint.) Don't forget that writers know in advance things we don't, that's why we can go back and find the breadcrumbs we didn't notice before or couldn't make a connection with yet.

🔥 Buck wants to know more about Tommy and his work. This is where you, as the audience, should fill the gap based on what we saw before and what comes next. This is where you should be able to do that instead of wanting everything on-screen the same way you put everything in a fanfic. This gap you fill because you're supposed to understand how average tv storytelling works leads to the following point.

🚁 7x04 - Buck contacts Tommy, he gets to visit Harbor. At this point, we can clearly see Tommy is acting flirty in a very subtle and respectful way, because he doesn't really know what's the deal with Buck, but remember the way he looked at Buck in 7x03? Then there's Buck acting... weird. What's his real purpose here? And this was before he even knew Tommy and Eddie were BFF, so Buck was already attracted to Tommy whatever his connection with the 118 crew, even if the real reason was blurry even to Buck himself.

🔥 7x04 - Tommy is now someone they interact with regularly. Tommy is now slowly working his way (back) into the 118 group. He finds a good friend in Eddy (strangely I don't see anyone questioning that. How is that easier than having a simple, passive crush?), apparently spends a lot of time with him, and knows Christopher because he went to Eddie's house 3 times. Eddie definitely knows more about Tommy than Buck at this point.

🚁 7x04 - Buck is clearly troubled by Tommy. Then there's this whole jealousy circus going on, Buck is a mess, his insecurities are breaking the roof and he's more troubled than ever. Is he jealous of Eddy or Tommy? Or both? (it's both) He wants to be the center of the attention. If he feels he's losing this, people will discard him. So he does some stupid shit. And you can see his feelings are also all over the place. But there's more than just fighting for attention, and that's probably why he's slowly starting to be angry. Because what he feels is different and he can't put his finger on it.

The discussion with Maddie clearly shows how he's chewing on his own heart. He didn't want what he had to change and he acted like a kid with big feelings and little control of himself.

🔥 7x04 - Tommy, who's having a passive crush on Buck, takes the matter in hands and kisses him. Tommy having a crush is not less normal than Buck flirting with basically any cute girl showing interest in him. Being more mature, he meets Buck to set things straight, after having talked about it with Eddie. It's not out of nowhere. Eddie and Tommy are not stupid, and Eddie knows Buck. He saw something was wrong. Tommy, being the new addition to their dynamic, thought it was his fault (I think Eddie and Tommy really felt guilty about going to Vegas and leaving Buck just like that lmao That was so bad for Buck's confidence, I felt it in my bones). Excuses turn to clearing the air turn to let's go for it.

Tommy really took a gamble there. If Buck wasn't what he thought he was, it could have been so bad. So, so bad for Tommy and his job. Imagine Buck accusing Tommy of assault? But he took the risk of kissing him because he has more experience and knows how to read the signs. He's not 15, he has experience with men, and closeted men for sure.

And you know, this is a beautiful scene for Buck as a character. The way he realizes why he did all that, what it means about him, for him. I mean, he knew, in a way, but he didn't know. And Tommy was suddenly everywhere in his life, overwhelming while doing nothing. You have to understand that everything is happening in Buck's head and he needed just a little push to open his eyes.

Buck's queer path: unlocked.

🚁 7x05 - First date, first mess but also first lesson. At this point, you can't even doubt about Tommy's intentions anymore. Buck might still be in a blurry phase but Tommy is not sending mixed signals at all (not with that choice of shirt, let me tell you this. My man was set to hit that night). Buck panicked, Tommy even tried to keep him on tracks for the evening, but between meeting Eddie and what it made Buck say... I mean, Tommy could have had a stronger reaction. Why accept the date if you can't deal with it?

But Tommy knows why, he's been there. Buck liked the idea of the date, but once you're there, everything becomes real. So once again, a little push: Tommy is honest and prefers to part ways, but not without saying why. He's not even mad. At this point, Buck really needs to take another step. It's difficult to drag someone else into your own fog. He has all the rights to be troubled, to doubt, to be scared, but you don't drag someone else in this with you. Tommy protected himself from that, also protected Buck from doing something he'd regret, and he did it with guidance.

🔥 7x05 - Buck talks with Maddie about his date and comes out to her, but more importantly: Buck comes out to Eddie. Look. This is canon, and I know we can choose to ignore canon but both scenes are great. And it's still canon. Maddie is obviously accepting and happy for Buck, and we expected no less from her.

With Eddie, I honestly expected at least some discussion like are you sure? or something like that but I think that at this point, everyone at the 118 knows that there's more to Buck than meets the eye. I'd have loved this scene to be longer with more exchange between Eddie and Buck but it is what it is, and Eddie is supportive of his best friend (yes, sorry, their canon relationship is best friends and I love their friendship, even more now that Buck is out).

And yes, this is even more important to show not only a strong friendship between a supposedly cishet man and a bisexual man but also, and we'll see that later, Eddie still trusts Buck around Chris. Nothing changed. So many people associate queer people with predators, we need to see queer people, and especially queer men, being trusted around children, and being safe. This is the right representation.

I know bvddies are trying to find any reason to make this storyline choice look like shit, because they want their ship to sail (and I completely understand wanting that), but accusing the people who like Buck and Tommy together of being homophobes because they cherish the canon beautiful friendship between Buck and Eddie?? We're not talking about headcanons here, about reading between the lines, or being "coded" a certain way (sorry, for me Eddie is not gay-coded. He's a-spec for sure, and I'm going for being demi, but gay? I don't see it anymore at this point of the show). It's about the canon. You know, at this point, things are already moving into place, even if you don't like Buck and Tommy together. This is where canon is at, this is the story. It's not a personal attack against anyone in the fandom.

🚁 7x05 - Buck wants to apologize to Tommy for the failed date, and for his behavior. Oh, accountability, my beloved. We love to see Buck working on himself. This is the real start of whatever will happen from now on between Buck and Tommy. Buck knows he's ready to embrace this new part of himself and he feels like Tommy is the right person to do that with.

Tommy being Tommy, he makes sure Buck knows what all this means. Buck is not a teenager, Tommy treats him as an equal but he also knows how it feels to be in Buck's shoes.

🔥 7x06 - Tommy, a responsible adult, makes time for Buck (and Chim!) even when he clearly could, and maybe should, just decline. This part was used way too often against Tommy by BoBs. Tommy is a fire pilot on call the night of the bachelor party. A FIRE PILOT ON CALL. Do you think his main goal that night is to have fun? Or is it to be a responsible adult who could well be saving lives (while risking his) the same night? Do you know what it means to be on call? You're basically working without being at work, the second your job needs you, you have to be 100% ready. Again, he's a fire pilot (even if he's also sent on ground work that night). His first job would be to pilot a freaking helicopter and accomplish tasks that requires skills, precision and to not be half asleep. You don't play with that responsibility.

So Tommy showing up is indeed huge. He does it for Buck, and for Chim, but definitely for Buck in the first place. He could have stayed home to get some sleep while waiting. Instead of that, not only he doesn't sleep but he ends up fighting a fire for hours. And the first thing people used against him was that he didn't follow the dress code?! No, you guys need to grow up and live a bit more of real life.

And then we have The Kiss (please someone draw them as The Kiss by Klimt, every fandom needs its Kiss fanart). And once again, it's Tommy making time for Buck, and Chim, when he could be home, take a good shower and be in his cozy bed after working on a fire for more than what, 14 hours? This is a man who knows his priorities. And responsible men are sexy as hell, even when it means they can't have fun like everyone else.

Now, if after all this, and mind you, this is all canon, you still think Tommy is a fraud in this storyline, that his budding romance with Buck has no foundation or that he doesn't care about Buck? And don't even get me started on the "but he was a racist and a misogynist before". Yes, he was. And yes, he changed. Like I said: learn to know his character, but also trust Hen. The fact is that at this point of the story, Tommy is great for Buck. He's kind, he's safe, he's trying even when there's no expectations. Be happy for great representation.

Oh, and don't use your hate against the ship or Tommy to be a nasty little shit with the actors and writers. Decency is free.

#911 #911 abc #bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #did i miss anything?#pushing tumblr's limits with this post #i'm tired and not in a good place recently so don't get me started with your ship war and your bs behavior with actors and writers #i just can't with bullies

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mysumeow · 2 days

Text

. . . ꒰ TEMPTING

Warnings: afab body and breasts, reader is referred to with you/your only. PIV unprotected sex, edging, prone bone position, thigh job, pwp (plot what plot). This is sort of a continuation of another smut i posted but you can read this without reading the first one.

Word count: 1.9k

A/N: uhg. lilia. i love him. i love general lilia. thats it that all i have to say.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ♡ 🌷 . . KOFI | TWST MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS

Whenever a window of opportunity to rest presents itself, you’ll sit on the nearest tree stump or log available, idly watching what happens around you.

You see soldiers' training, sparring, fixing tents, and the general dividing tasks among his subordinates with a stern voice. Lilia’s an example of what being a leader means—not limiting himself to delegating labor, but also lending a hand.

He grabbed the handle of his lithic weapon as he sparred with one soldier; with practiced ease, Lilia unarmed the soldier. The general reprimanded the other fae for losing his footing over a basic movement.

Lilia plans tactics for ambushes furtively, aiming to attack the enemy’s weakness first. Deft and sharp.

Soon, you’d understand that the general isn’t used to docility of any kind. Neither giving nor receiving. A war general shouldn’t allow a margin of error, steps should be given with precision and intent on subduing your adversary.

You recalled your first intimate night with Lilia. You remembered the sensation of him holding back, and even then, he still did a number on your body. You’ve spent enough time with the fae to know that the moment you try to point out any attempt at tenderness on his part, he would deny it.

You couldn’t help but find it endearing. And your curiosity increased the more you wondered about to what extent you could tease him and make him lose his constraints. Lilia’s libido was pretty responsive to what you did or said, so it wouldn’t be difficult to push him in that direction.

The moment the soldiers were already in their tents, you sneaked into the general’s.

“I’m heading to the lake to wash off the dirt,” you said as you entered the tent. You found your fae writing something down on the map splayed across the table.

Lilia acknowledged you with a hum.

You sighed. “I don’t wanna go alone. The woods become frightening the moment there’s no more sunlight, you know.”

Lilia dropped the pencil and looked at you. “A little dirt on your body’s not going to kill you,” he teased.

“You know I can’t sleep like that. I sweated a lot today, too. Baur made me accompany that expedition group to the mountain’s skirt in the morning,” you complained. “I promise it won’t be long.”

You sensed that he was about to give up.

“And someone could sneak up on me and see me naked.”

That was enough argument for the fae to stand up from his chair and rush to tag along with you.

This was your favorite moment of the day, when you could not just finally go to bed but also freshen up with clean water. Even if the temperature might be a bit chilly during the night, the fresh water was welcome to clean you up from the dirt and sweat clinging to your skin.

“The water feels nice,” You hummed as you dipped your toes into it. Lilia was more concerned about making sure no one was near, though, his ears flicking at the slightest suspicious sound.

You began undressing in front of him, as you have done many times before. Even with your back turned towards him, you could feel his stare roaming around your flesh.

You walked into the serene lake until the water covered your chest.

“Lilia,” You called out to him again. His gaze returned to you. “Why don’t you join? You look like you need this, too.”

“You said you wouldn’t take long. I still have work to finish.” He crossed his arms, gripping his lithic.

“Just this once,” You almost pouted. “You’ve been busy these past few days. I miss you already. I’ll even help you wash your back.”

You held Lilia’s stare before he, for the second time today, humored you. Soon, his clothes were untidily placed next to yours.

Beaming with joy, you hugged Lilia the instant he was within reach.

“General, your hair’s getting wet,” You hurried to help him fix his hairstyle in a way that the inconvenience would be resolved. “There. All done.”

Lilia grumbled about something meaningless as he allowed you to scrub his back, washing off both dirt and dried blood and uncovering new lacerations he had gained from recent ambushes. You traced them with your fingers, leaning closer to kiss those scars.

You couldn’t see Lilia’s expression, but you did sense his body’s temperature going up.

“Mm, you’re so warm,” You relished the warmth from the fae’s body. Your tits pressed flush against his back, and your hands roamed around his front—feather-like touches teasing his chest and abdomen. You were aware that your words and actions were leading in a certain direction, so before Lilia beat you to it and followed through with it, you pulled away from him. “It’s getting chilly, though. Let’s head back already.”

In the blink of an eye, Lilia gripped your wrist and pulled you towards his chest. Your backside making contact with something hard and hot, nudging in between your thighs.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Hm? I thought the general had work to finish,” You feigned innocence.

“That can wait. Right now, I need to have you.”

“But we’re in a lake! Someone could walk in on us. Let’s head back to the tent,” Ignoring the evident ache in your body, you did your best to deter him. For fun. To test how far you could make him wait. If not for your determination to uncover the fae’s strength, you would’ve conceded.

Under the promise, the general’s complaint had died for the moment.

Once in the tent, you were preparing to go to sleep, until a sudden force pinned you against the bed. A small squeak left you, and the familiar arms squeezing your waist made you understand that your little teasing reaped an interesting reaction from him.

“Lilia—” You tried to gain some balance by trying to prop your torso up with your hands, but the general immobilized you by further pinning your legs against the mattress with his.

“You little tease, you think I wouldn’t notice what you were trying to do?” He brushed away the hair covering your nape to nip at the sensitive skin there. “If you wanted me to rough your body up, you should’ve just asked for it,”

This was what you wanted, although you didn’t imagine it would be this soon. If this little teasing got you to this point, you couldn’t imagine how he would be if you had done more...

One hand slipped under your underwear while his other hand covered your mouth in time before a moan escaped you. With his index and middle fingers, he began rubbing your clit in circular motions.

“I’ve been treating you with so much leniency you’ve forgotten who you’re dealing with,” His breath against your ear made you shiver, and a renewed sense of pleasure overtook your body. “I’ll have to remind you,”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” You managed to whisper, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible but failing with how he played with your sex. Lilia really did know you inside out.

“You were already wet when I slid my hand under your clothes. Don’t try to act coy now,” He seemed to be amused, above all.

You clutched the sheets as you lost yourself in pleasure, your head falling against the pillow and using it to muffle your voice. You barely register Lilia pulling your pajama pants down and off your legs.

The fae grew eager, having a sliver of enough composure left to discard your underwear, but your uncoordinated and trembling body made the task more complicated than needed. Instead, he pushed it to the side, his fingers not once faltering in stimulating you.

A muffled whimper of his name. Not even a second later, Lilia stopped his movements.

“Noo, what’re you doing,” You protested, not expecting him to halt. “I was about to…”

“Aw, you were about to. What a pity,” He mocked you, momentarily freeing your body from his antsy hands to remove his own garments. Once done, you felt him spread your slick nether lips with his thumbs, eyeing you up with a satisfied, complacent grin. “You like being treated like this. You have no salvation, do you?”

Despite not being able to deny it, your face burned from embarrassment. Even if Lilia tended to put your pleasure first and holds back from going all out, the change in that tactful demeanor into a meaner one still excited you.

While holding you open still, he grinded his cock between your pussy lips, using both his pre-cum and your arousal to lubricate it. You were growing impatient, and thus, tried to grind back against him to incite him into already giving in.

Lilia rested his weight against your back, his chest flush against it, weighing you down. Lilia dug his fingernails into your flesh, while demanding that you stay still. His fingers went back to playing with your clit, while using your sticky inner thighs to pleasure himself.

After what felt like forever, the tip prodded inside, taking his time to stuff you with more of his dick. He pulled back until the just head was in and thrust with more strength. The feeling of Lilia’s warm body embracing yours and his thickness stretching you almost made you forget about holding back your voice.

From the very moment you conceived the idea of teasing him, to Lilia not allowing you to touch yourself or him, the buildup to your orgasm approached faster than what you expected. As if both factors weren’t enough, you were still sensitive over the climax you were robbed of prior moments ago.

You mewled, trying to reach behind you and hold his hand to ground yourself.

Instead, the fae grabbed your arms and pinned them against your back, his pace not stuttering for even a minute.

This was what you wanted—for him to be rougher…and within a couple more smacks of his hips against yours, you came hard around him, broken moans of his name escaping from your bitten lips. Lilia quieted himself by kissing your shoulder the moment he released his cum inside. He leaned down and busied your lips with an open-mouthed kiss.

Sore and spent, your head collapsed forward against the pillow again. You heard Lilia’s amused chuckle, resting next to you while keeping an arm wrapped around you.

“I wasn’t too rough, right?” He muttered after a while in silence, his eyes inspecting your body. “Does it hurt somewhere?”

“My arms, you gripped me too hard,” You mumbled. “I didn’t notice it at the moment because…it felt nice…”

At your confession, he looked taken back by it before his expression shifted into a relieved one and he chuckled. “I should’ve known you like being treated like that. You are quite keen about my fangs, and I’ve noticed how your body melts when I bite you,”

Before you could fawn over the demure visage that took over his eyes for a split second, it faded away with the same ease it appeared as he turned his head to the other side.

“I love it when you’re trying to be gentle, even if you’re not that great at it,” You teased, your fingers brushing his hair. Lilia grunted, suddenly grumpy about you pointing that out. “But I also enjoy it when you’re rough,”

He humphed, still avoiding facing you. You smiled at him, despite it not being visible to him. You closed your eyes, feeling exhaustion getting to you.

#twst smut #twst x reader #twisted wonderland smut #lilia vanrouge x reader

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olderthannetfic · 3 days

Note

Memories have resurfaced.

Back when the first Bayonetta game came out me, cis woman bisexual, was completely into it. The camp, the sex appeal, the power fantasy, just the entire fuck you I do what I want vibe was just everything I needed back then. Some of the people I know, many also women and some form of WLW also loved it. But from mainstream, especially other queer folks and feminists I just remember the unbridled vitriol and anger and calling everyone who liked the game a man or sockpuppet. People lying about the plot of the game, the characters, and even just who designed her was something I saw a lot of. I remember one person who so blatantly lied about Bayonetta being a single mom. What? What game did you play?

Now, or rather when the third game came out I saw a bunch of people claiming the game was always a iconic amongst queers and women, and that queers and feminists were the first ones to celebrate the game. This comes especially from young people who weren't even old enough to play the game when it came out.

No you fucking didn't. I'm not letting myself be gaslit with this, because I spent years having to deal with aggressive queer people and feminists bitching about the male gaze of the game, and that it's just made for cishet men to jerk it to. I'm guessing things shifted some time after the second game came out, but no, Bayonetta was not an icon when it came out, and not even when the second game came out.

The fact that it became more iconic for queers must have happened some time after the second game came out. I just don't get why people have to lie about it though.

I know very little about Bayonetta, but

"According to Capcom official, Dimitrescu-sama is 2.9m tall (including heels). My studio has a four-meter ceiling, which is enough to welcome her as my bride.🥳"

remains one of my favorite things I've seen on the internet to date.

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gavisuntiedboot · 3 days

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We Can't Be Friends (but I'd like to just pretend)

Pedri x Reader

Part 1

Warnings: None

Word count: 8.7k

A/N: After a lot of consideration, I have decided to start posting my Pedri series. I think that I can get a lot of interaction with these, and I think it is a good way to feed my soul and get eyes on what is happening in Palestine. So please, if you enjoy this series, consider helping out Palestine. Even if it's just with a click (second link!)

(Also if there are any continuity errors pls pls pls lmk)

Operation Olive Branch is an org working to help raise money to evacuate people from Gaza. I have decided to highlight Anwar and his family, who need to raise $35,000 in order to survive. Please donate what you can:

I will continue to highlight this family on all my posts until they reach their goal inshAllah.

Synopsis: Moving to a new country can be a pain in the ass. So can starting a new job when your position is completely different to what you thought. But nothing is going to stop you from achieving your goal of being the next Law Roach. Not the language barrier, your aching feet on the wonky streets, and definitely not your annoying, full of himself client. Because everything is going to stay professional, right?

~~~

"Bryce, can you please pay attention? God, I hate Americans."

The slow and thick laughter flowed through the line, peppered with static and cutting off whenever a particularly loud vehicle rolled past.

"Self-hating much? You are also American."

"I'm Texan, sweetheart. We are basically our own breed. Now can you help me?" You were finally able to flag down a taxi, stepping in carefully to make sure you didn't flash the driver. The stark white of the flowy skirt contrasted heavily with your bright orange cowboy boots, worn to match the white "TEXAS" baby tee with orange lettering. Your bangles clinked happily against your wrist as the door closed, hair mused by the late September wind. It was a comfort-from-home turned fashion statement, a way to stay close to your roots but show everyone at the office you were the type of girl that people saved on their "cool y2k outfit inspo" Pinterest boards. At least, girls back home would.

"How the hell did you move to a foreign country without learning the language?"

"Because I was supposed to be in PARIS, remember? I didn't minor in French just for mierde and giggles."

"Yeah, yeah, and then Paris decided to self destruct. I've heard the story. Just put me on speaker already."

Through the phone, Bryce's Spanish flows fluently as she instructs the driver to deliver you at your new place of work. Style Di Fortuna was one of the best styling firms in Europe, if not the world. Located a mere two streets from the Passeig De Gracia, there was nowhere better for a young woman to start her career in the fashion world. Except you weren't supposed to be here.

The plan had been perfect. After 4 years working your fingers bloody at UT Austin, you finally turned the bright orange tassel and accepted your B.A. in fashion. You were able to say "couture" with the perfect amount of phlegm to be taken seriously by the French snobs you had interned with, the ones who were supposed to be your colleagues after you graduated. The dreams of smoky cafes, bike rides through the city, and the lights of Paris fashion week were often the only things that helped you push through your professor telling you that you sewed like a blind sloth.

But then the French did what they do best: went on strike. For months. And after the long periods of no productivity and the destruction of half the inventory, you got the concise email that you would need to find employment elsewhere. About a week before you moved to France. So in a blind panic, you applied to every job you could think of within Europe, desperate to not have your first year post grad be spent at the soup kitchen or bagging groceries. You finally heard back from one of your contacts, another alumni from your school who said they could get you a job in Spain, but it was a little far from the type of fashion you wanted to do.

A "yes please I'm begging" email and 24 hours later, you had a job with SDF. Hey, fashion is fashion, and if you have to start by styling TikTokers in sparkly mini dresses before you could get to the good stuff, so be it. There were dues to be paid after all. So you grabbed your already packed bags and changed your ticket from Paris to Barcelona.

"I can speak Spanish. I lived in Texas for 21 years. Just not... Spain Spanish." You said quietly, rummaging through your bag for the ID that had been mailed to you the week prior.

"Right, and my white ass took it in school and he seemed to understand me just fine. So you, Miss Texican, need to stop with the perpetual fear that people will think you're stupid. Be confident and just speak. The company is Italian, anyways. Most of them will probably speak English, and if not, they'll think you're exotic and sexy."

"Mhm I'm sure."

"You're going to do great, okay? Just be yourself. You had like ten billion friends at home. It's almost impossible not to like you. You got it girl - go hook 'em."

Laughter bubbled out of you at her cheesy pep talk, feeling lighter already. She was right - even if you had gotten this job on the fly, your portfolio was super impressive, and people had no trouble liking you. So what was there to be worried about. After bidding her goodbye and having the courage to thank the driver in Spanish, you stepped out of the cab to the front steps of the new building. It was much taller than the surrounding, standing out like a sore thumb amongst the lower buildings and pale stone. Making your way up to the 16th floor, you were quickly ushered past bolts of bright fabric, racks of shoes worth millions, and some very stressed (yet very stylish) other employees.

"So excited that you're going to be joining our team! It is going to be so helpful having some international input to make sure we are not pigeon-holing our clients into fashion that is not received well globally. You will be reporting directly to Katerina, and she will report to me. Your colleagues are mostly male given the nature of the division. But Tania, Silvia, and Maria should be a good support as you move into the role. We also have Juliana who is between here and the Milan office. So it isn't a complete boy's club."

Huh?

After years in fashion, one thing you definitely knew was that it often was not a "boy's club". Sure, all the suits and big investors were often old and withered men, but most of the creative side of the business had been run by almost fully female teams (and the exceedingly rare stylish man).

"I'm sorry, the nature of the team? What do you mean?" You asked, trying to keep smiling while running after her towards a more and more barren part of the office.

"Sorry, was it not included in your offer letter? You're working in our athletics division. We are horribly understaffed in that department, especially now that we have taken on all the Adidas athletes in Spain. My word there are a lot of them. Bellingham alone needs three team members for every event."

No no no no no. This cannot be happening. You had come in prepared to style a lot of things: prom dresses, lingerie, even the scraps of fabrics that were rented out by the local burlesque show. But sports???

Now don't get it twisted, this isn't some "I'm a girl and I don't know anything about sports!" kind of thing. On the contrary. You were at every football game rocking the longhorns, cheering on your friends as they crushed it at basketball, and even tried watching a formula 1 race (there was a three car crash and you fainted) - you were totally hip with sports. Although you were not a fan of stretch materials or athleisure, you were willing to bite the bullet as a first step. The issue was the hidden undertones of your job. It was the fact that you would be working with, from what you could surmise, a lot of male athletes.

Bryce was right - it did feel like you had ten billion friends back home. Everywhere you went, you spoke to strangers with ease, and people warmed quickly, conversation flowing and bonds forming. But that's the issue: everyone seemed to warm to you, and so it meant a lot of male attention. And despite your best efforts, you always made a "too flirty" comment to someone's crush or "inappropriately smiling" at someone's boyfriend. And so as fast as they liked you, suddenly you were public enemy #1, and the drama became all-consuming.

No one seemed to understand. There was constant advice to just brush it off, to ignore the people who brought pain to your life. But you couldn't help it, laying in bed, stomach in knots, questioning why no one could see that you were just trying to be kind to everyone around you. The cycle of worrying had created a very isolating experience.

"Tania! Where are the other girls? I want to introduce you to the newest member of the team."

A girl with blown out black hair turns around, double nose piercings taking a back seat to a piercing charcoal stare. She was in high waisted jeans and a leopard print button up, the first two unbuttoned to show off the black strap of her bra. Her neck was adorned with a simple gold cross necklace, and she flashed a cordial smile as she stuck out a hand.

"I love your shoes." You said sweetly as you exchanged a shake, eager to make your first friend at work (and maybe in all of Spain).

"Oh, thank you. Dolce and Gabanna - they're friends of the firm. Your shoes are..." She gave a glance to the cowboy boots you had on, "muy naranja" (very orange).

You crossed your legs, self confidence waning after she addressed you like you had traffic cones on your legs. You were introduced to Silvia (a tall girl with short blonde hair and vintage Adidas Sambas paired with boxer shorts) and Maria (dark blue hair slicked back to show off her Italian football jersey). All of them oozed the coolest essence, and you were excited to get to know them.

"Alright, girls, not too much chattering. Barca arrives in 15 minutes, and there is not a single jersey in sight. Lets go! Rápidamente!"

A gasp spread across the room, accompanied with a groan from Roberto in the back, and there was suddenly a mad dash. Stretch fabrics in a hundred different colors were flying across the room, and it seemed like no one could move fast enough.

"I'm sorry to ask but... what is a barca?"

Silvia's sambas squeaked loudly as she came to a halt, whipping her neck towards you. Her eyebrows knitted together, looking at you like you had just said Jesus was a goat.

"Who is Barca? You cannot be serious. Please don't say anything like that when they walk in the door. Just stand out of the way and do some googling. We will fill you in when the team leaves."

You stepped back towards the mannequins, trying not get trampled by the other employees. A quick search on Instagram gave you the basics. Soccer (or well, football now) team that was super famous. SDF was tagged in their post from their TV series premier, so you came to the conclusion that they were long time clients. You were so consumed with your search that you didn't notice the gaggle of young men enter the constricted space until you heard a chorus of voices chant "Bon Dia, Pedri!"

You glance up, trying to see the man that the girls were addressing, but he was covered by a crowd, which was comprised of Tania, Silvia, and girls from the other departments of the building (you could have sworn that red head worked at the café in the lobby).

"Bon dia, ladies."

The giggles that came as response were far too exaggerated for just politeness, and before you could roll your eyes, you heard the gag from beside you and turned to who was ultimately Maria.

"Don't mind the girls. They aren't usually like this, but their brain turns to mush around the magician."

"The magician?"

Almost as if planned, the swarm of girls parted in that moment, a pair of sickly sweet molasses eyes meeting yours, holding your gaze in something that felt warm and almost intimate. His stubbled cheeks spread into an infectious smile, and suddenly a gorgeous man in a hideous pair of jeans was giving you a subtle wave across the room.

"Pedri "The Magician" Gonzalez, current reigning golden boy at FC Barcelona. Who knew God could pack so much talent and trouble into such a small package? Anyways, the other girls in the office are obsessed with him. They all think they're going to be the special little snowflake to pull him away from the line of Instagram models waiting to jump in bed."

As you listened intently to Maria's rant about the sports star, the two of you couldn't keep your eyes away. As Tania and Silvia went back and forth, talking his brain into oatmeal, he couldn't stop himself from asking, "Who is the new girl?"

Pedri Gonzalez was many things: a generational talent, a laid back 20 year old, and (though less known) a shit-stirrer. These monthly team visits to SDF ranked very highly on his list of favorite activities. He was able to sit with his teammates as they watched some of the hottest girls in Europe fall over themselves just for a kind word or a prolonged glance. He just wished the boys would have seen the way they moved when he came in for personal sessions whenever there was a new Adidas campaign. Not even the king was served so wonderfully.

As the team bus parked outside the building, he lazily draped one arm over Gavi's shoulders, ripping his attention away from his phone screen.

"You know she does have a life outside of answering your texts, Gavi."

There was no attempt to hide or deny, just a continued scowl coupled with scrunched brows.

"She was really weird during the drive home the other day. After Martin was a little bitch on the field, she hasn't been the same. I think there's something wrong, but I don't want to push her away. I just want her to be happy."

"Ay, you'll have lots of time to make her happy after you confess your undying love in her passenger seat and kill her boyfriend." Pedri quipped back, taking a few careful steps off the bus and rushing into the building, the squeals of his name from adoring fans fading into the background.

"Okay, maybe not the best idea I've ever had, but now you do have work with Adidas and Springfield and all the other brands that want a piece of Pedri Potter." The nickname earned Gavi a light smack on the back of the head. "So in the end, I did you a favor."

The boys make their way upstairs, greeted at the elevator by Pedri's fan club.

"Bon dia, ladies."

"Bon dia, Pedri. We missed you."

Gavi tried to tone down the look of confusion that painted his features, watching these two girls trail behind his teammate in a way that was anything but professional. But there was a natural air to Pedri that had women swooning whenever he uttered a sentence, so Gavi supposed this situation would be no different than the one he had seen before in the club, at the beach, in the grocery store - basically anywhere Pedri went. He said a silent thank you to the powers that be that their types were vastly different.

The girls vying for his attention were promptly shooed away, with only the two who were actually part of their styling team remaining. Pedri scanned the room, making a mental note of who he would be looking up on the SDF Instagram once he was done for the day. He was a humble young man, but he wasn't self depreciating. He knew the number of women that wanted him was rising into 6-figure range, and he was not one to deprive himself of a pleasure that wasn't closely regulated by the staff over at Camp Nou. He loved entertaining the occasional tryst with an influencer or model or bottle service girl - whoever caught his eye for the evening. The world was his field, and boy was he ready to sow.

His newest playthings were his regular stylists. Since he was going to be spending a lot more time at the firm, he decided to at least enjoy himself a little bit. He dropped casual compliments, noticed the changes they made to their appearance, let them talk his ears off about how well he did in the previous match. Whatever they wanted he would provide. Why not? He was young and single. If they were to delude themselves into thinking he was going to settle down and take a wife at this stage of his career, then really they had no one but themselves to blame.

Tania and Silvia were nothing if not wholly entertaining. They always bounced around the office together, blonde and black hair making them look like a salt and pepper shaker set. Today, they dedicated themselves to dressing Pedri in the vintage Barca jerseys that were being photographed, leaving the rest of the squad to be dealt with by Maria, Roberto, and the bright spot in the corner of the office that caught Pedri's eye.

"Who is the new girl?"

He knew the question was going to cause the bile to rise in the throats of the two girls in front of him, who were already milliseconds away from killing each other if it meant he would take the survivor to dinner. But there was something about the flash of color that had caught his eye, hair falling in front of a pretty face that was glued to a screen and trying to stay out of the way.

"What new girl?" The response came from Tania, the more jealous of the pair by a mile. Pedri had often caught her stalking his account, his brother's account, and the account of every girl DeuxMoi "spotted" him with during the international breaks.

"Her. In the corner. She's new, right? That's someone I would remember seeing." He raised his head to get a better look at her, taking in the tight shirt and bright colors, watching her jewelry sway along as Maria (his least favorite in the office by far) called her over to help dress the rest of the team. The girls whipped around, taking in the same view that Pedri was.

"La naranja?!" Tania asked, disgust evident in her louder-than-appropriate tone. At the use of what was quickly becoming your office nickname, you looked towards the sound of the commotion, seeing Pedri staring intently at you once again. And while the depth of his gaze threatened to ignite a warmth somewhere within your chest, it was Tania's furious expression that had your heart racing in fear. You hadn't even been at work for an hour - what could you have possible done to have invoked such a murderous glare?

"I didn't think foreign girls were your type." Silvia said, much calmer but tone still icy.

"Maybe I just like the color orange." He replied smoothly, whipping off his shirt to slip into the one from 1980 that he would be modeling for the Barca site. The sight of bare skin was enough to make his playthings forget their rage, being replaced by lustful stares and lingering touches as they "adjusted" the fabric over his pecs about 20 times over.

"I think orange is a hideous color on girls." Tania couldn't help but mutter and she fixed his collar, putting in a couple pins so it wouldn't move as he walked to the photographer.

"I think the ugliest color on a girl is jealousy green." Pedri's eyes met hers in a silent warning. She was officially nothing more than one of his stylists. He was a busy man, and the last thing he needed was for his distractions to become a new stressor. He was notorious for being quick to cut girls off for the most superficial reasons, and Tania was not eager to be one of those deprived of his affections. She smiled sweetly, biting the inside of her cheek.

"Oh, of course. Especially when there is obviously nothing to be jealous of. Go welcome her on her first day - if she can even understand a thing you're saying. I don't think the American school system teaches Canarian." She left Pedri in that moment, calling sweetly to Ferran to come get dressed.

"Ay, Gavi, I knew you were short, but they can't even find pants that fit you now?"

The sudden voice behind you made you jump, causing a yelp from Gavi, who had been stabbed with a stray pin due to your scare. Your head whipped around, meeting that same smile that was brighter up close.

"Perdon, Naranja. Didn't mean to startle you."

Your eyebrows came together, a small frown on your features.

"I don't know what Tania told you, but that's not my name."

"I didn't think it was, but it's quite fitting, don't you think? A cute nickname for a cute girl."

The complement caught you off guard, and your mouth dropped open, reply unable to form in your mind. Was he seriously flirting with you? After half the office just threw themselves at his feet?

"Thank you, but I would really prefer if you called me-"

"Your accent is strange. Where are you from?" Pedri cuts you off, giving you a once over and taking in your figure, focusing intently on the writing across your chest.

"Texas. Can't you read?" You asked, growing more annoyed by the minute. Maria would be back any second to grab the boy who you were hemming, now identified as Gavi. You weren't eager to be seen as a slacker on day damn one.

"Houston?" He asked, accent preventing him from getting the "S" in the word quite right. "My brother used to live there for a bit."

"San Antonio, actually. But I went to school in Austin." As desperately as you wanted to make a good impression on your first day, something inside your chest wanted to make a good impression on Pedri, who was listening intently to the mini tour of Texas you were giving him.

"Is that close to Dallas? We are meant to play a game there in the summer. Maybe you can come along, show me around your city." He punctuated his sentence with a wink. You wanted to speak, tell him that Austin was actually several hours from Dallas, San Antonio even further. But your heartbeat was in your ears, and you could do nothing but nod along.

Pedri was not much better off. He had spoken to some of the most gorgeous women in Europe, maybe even the world in his mere 22 years on the planet, but something about the way you looked at him while speaking, eyes locked onto his, made his heart race in a way that was foreign but not unenjoyable.

"Hey! Hurry up - they need Gavi next. Or are you incapable of putting in a couple pins?" It was Silvia barking down at you, causing you to tear your gaze away from Pedri and back to Gavi's leg. Thankfully, the boy was typing away and didn't notice the break you had taken to chat with his teammate. "Pedri, stop distracting la naranja with your flirting and go get a pair of shoes from Maria."

You burned with embarrassment, the nickname turning from something affectionate to something sour, used to remind you of your outsider status as 'Cinderella' was reminded of her place by the coals.

"I was just being friendly." Pedri said, standing to follow her instructions.

"I think you have enough friends in the office." She bites back, shoving him lightly towards the wall of sneakers.

Your cheeks burn, embarrassment causing your hands to tremble as you continue hemming the trousers in front of you. Maria had gone out of her way to warn you that Pedri was off limits, and yet here you were again: persona non grata with your coworkers because some boy had taken an interest in you.

"You speak really good Spanish for someone from America." A quiet voice said from above you. Looking up, Gavi was gazing down at you, distracted by his phone every few seconds.

"I'm half Mexican, and most people in Texas speak Spanish anyways." You reply, trying to tone down the annoyance in your tone.

"Oh, I didn't know that. My friend- eh, physiotherapist also studied in America. She has this really cute accent when she says some of her words now." You watched his eyes glaze over in a way they probably shouldn't if he was just talking about his doctor.

"You don't have to make conversation with me, you know." You mutter back, scared that maybe this player was Maria's and you would sever the final connection you had left in the office inadvertently.

"Oh. I didn't mean to annoy you." The tone in his voice and his crestfallen expression made you feel like you had just kicked a puppy.

"Oh no! You're not. I just... It seems like I just pissed off the girls by talking to Pedri, and I don't want to make any other mistakes."

He laughed, eyes crinkling and head tilting back. "Pedri is a special case. When you flirt with everything that moves, someone is bound to be upset eventually."

The admission caused a pit to form in your stomach. Everything that moves? The romantic heat you felt earlier cooled into a slimy, sickening emotion. What kind of person toyed with people's feelings for fun? As you entertained the thought, you tapped Gavi on the leg, instructing him to hop off the stand and go get photographed. A shadow loomed over your form as you tidied pins from the floor of the workroom.

"So, I believe you were about to give me your address before we were so rudely interrupted." It was Pedri, returning with a grin, standing coolly with his hands in the pockets of his cargos. "Of if that's too personal, I'll settle for a phone number. Or an Instagram handle - I'm not picky."

"I can tell." You muttered back, unease still sitting in your chest. You avoided his gaze, chewing nervously on your bottom lip and directing your eyes to anything but Pedri.

"I'm sorry about Silvia. She can be... intense. And let me just go ahead and apologize for Tania as well, in advance. They're weirdly possessive over me for some reason." Pedri sounded sincere, eyes doing their best to catch yours and convey his message.

"Don't worry about it. I can see why you're so popular." You shuffled to collect stray pins off the floor. Pedri was not like any other guy you had ever been attracted to. Usually they were tall, lanky frat boy types, all blue eyes and khaki shorts. But the combination of beautiful brown eyes brushed by dark hair, chiseled jaw and plump lips, and strong arms that lifted a mannequin out of your way did weird things to your heart and your stomach.

"Can you now?" He was smirking. You could practically hear it in his voice, the amusement dripping from every syllable. He was obviously completely unbothered by your clear signs of distress.

"Yeah. Every girl I ever knew wanted to be the sugar baby of an athlete. Watch out or you'll get your bank account drained." Despite your best efforts to come across as cutting and sharp, he laughed at the statement. A full head thrown back and hands on his belly type of laugh.

"It's been a long time since I've spoken to a girl as funny as you." His eyes held yours, and the look was so captivating you simply couldn't avert your gaze. In that moment, it was also lost on you that you had, in fact, only made one joke. You responded with a half smile and heat radiating from you.

"Hey listen, a couple of the boys and I are going out tonight. You should come with us."

The invitation started to knock some sense back into you. Out? As in out out? Back home, going out usually meant getting shit-faced and riding a mechanical bull. It wasn't the best look to pull up to work the following morning looking like death and smelling like tequila. You were already on the way to holding the record for the worst first day in history.

"I don't know... I think Tania would put Nair in my shampoo if we were seen together when not contractually obligated."

You looked up shyly, and a part of you waited for him to insist, to feel somewhat special.

"Ah, I won't make you do anything you're uncomfortable with. Just DM me on Instagram if you change your mind. I'm not hard to find."

"Do you answer DMs from every girl that finds you?" You asked, rocking back and forth on your heels.

"No. But I'll be looking out for yours."

Another voice called out to Pedri, and he left you standing there slack-jawed. Who was this man? And what was so special about you to have piqued his interest? You asked these same questions of Bryce, who was now fully awake.

"Girl, the answer is obvious." She said through face time, words garbled by her teeth-brushing.

"Please don't say-"

"You're hot."

"That. Bryce, these girls in the office, they're stunners. 10s across the board. If he was going for looks, he wouldn't be going for me."

"I think you're over-thinking this whole thing. He just wants to talk to you for now," She paused to spit, "So talk! What's the worst that could happen?"

A shrill voice cried out 'Naranja!' and the trill of your new unwelcome work nickname was the signal that your lunch was over. You trudged back into the office, abandoning the warmth and sunshine for the cold front put up by Tania and Silvia. They bumped you every time they walked past, making comments about your clothing, your hair, the speed of your work, your taste level - everything. You stuck close to Maria, getting only two smug "I told you so's" before it was back to business. The boys left a disaster in their wake, with jerseys, trousers, socks, shoes, and all manners of accessories scattered about the workroom. Maria exchange stories of her childhood in Rome for your escapades in San Antonio and Austin, and the day passed with relative ease. Katerina click-clacks into the room an hour before your sweet release, huddling together everyone who worked with the team for a summary of what was accomplished.

"Great job team. I think Barca will be very happy with the photos, which will make me very happy. Now," Katerina handed out a series of files to everyone in the circle. "As some of you know, we have been fighting tooth and nail against Fordham Fashions for the new Adidas Rising Stars contract. Well, we have finally won! Here are the clients that we will be working with closely for individual Adidas campaigns, collaborations, and so on."

Opening the file, a familiar face grinned back from the first page.

"Everyone already knows Pedri, so we will move past him. Now, let us begin the style briefing for Bellingham..."

You stared for another moment at the bright grin on the page before turning it to take notes on everything Katerina was saying. The meeting wrapped 30 minutes later, with one final request from the boss.

"The new Predator boots have just come in from Adidas. We will be sending a pair to each of our athletes to allow them to adjust before we style and shoot in the coming weeks. And to avoid another, ehem, hair pulling incident, the new girl will be sending Pedri's. Sort the rest out among yourselves. See you tomorrow!"

The glares burned your skin before you even had the chance to process that the 'new girl' in question was you. Everyone scurried to the wall of blue shoe boxes as you looked over the brief again to find the man of the hour's shoe size. Pulling it out of the pile, you moved to a far corner of the workroom, but that did not seem to stop Tania from coming your way.

"So, you think Pedri likes you?"

The statement caught you off guard, hands slowing and your eyes widening at your coworker.

"Excuse me?"

"You think that now he's going to date you just because he laughed at one of your jokes? Because trust me, you're not his type."

You were prepared to rebut, tell her that she had completely misunderstood the situation, and you were just being nice to a client. But it died on your lips as the meaning of her words washed over you like an icy tidal wave, leaving you to pathetically whisper out,

"Why not?"

Her laugh trickled out lightly, delicate and beautiful and cutting all at once.

"Just look at you, Naranja. Anyways, this is a note from the agency that needs to be included in Pedri's box, so slip it in there, 'kay? See you tomorrow!"

Swallowing thickly, you didn't watch her walk away, staring at the table top to stop the flood of emotions that was clogging your throat. You knew you weren't ugly. Quite the opposite actually. It usually only took a coy glance and the bat of an eyelash for you to have people eating from the palm of your hand. But the self doubt started to eat away at you. What was wrong with the way you looked?

And then your eyes focused on the crisp white envelope on the table. The girly scrawl of Pedri was too... romantic to be a formal note. The green slime of jealousy seeped through every one of your veins. You took a quick look around the room, and finding no one, you carefully opened the envelope. Immediately a strong perfume assaulted your senses. The letter was a quick confession of love, and you couldn't help the increase in your heart rate. If your coworker was determined to hate you, then you should at least give her a reason.

Your childish antics came two fold. First, you tiptoed over to the cabinet with the stationary, grabbing a blank envelope and some corrector fluid. You carefully removed Tania's name from the bottom of the letter, writing in a little "S" with a heart beside it. You refolded the letter and placed it into the new perfume-less envelope. The letter found its home in the shoe box, and on your way out of the building, you dropped it off at the mail room. As you waited for your cab home, you typed five familiar letters into the Instagram search bar, and sent a message asking,

"Am I still invited out tonight?"

Pedri could not contain the Cheshire cat grin that lit up his face when he saw the DM from you. Scrolling quickly through your Instagram, he zoomed in on your pictures from the summer, swimsuits the same bright orange that had hugged your chest earlier that day. He responded quickly, telling you that you would be the highlight of the entire outing, and as he predicted, your phone number quickly followed.

"See, Gavi? I told you." He turned the screen to his teammate, who could not possibly be less interested. Being met with silence, he quickly snatched Gavi's phone from his hands, eliciting a protest.

"Gavi, this is an intervention. You need to stop this sad puppy behavior. After the sixth unanswered text, it's time to accept that she's not going to respond."

Pedri almost regretted it as soon as he said it, the sunken look painting Gavi's features being too much to bear. It was like taking a baby's favorite toy away.

"I just mean that she's probably busy, hermano. She'll respond when she can. Now, back to me."

Gavi rolled his eyes and leaned back against Pedri's couch. He displayed his most exasperated expression.

"Please, Pedri. Tell me again how you got a girl to swoon for you in a matter of minutes. It's always my favorite story."

Gavi barely missed the pillow chucked at his head, but pressed on anyways.

"Come on, Pedri. It's the same story every week. Find a cute girl, flirt, invite her out, sleep with her, and then block her on all your socials."

"Okay but this one is different. She's my first American."

Gavi gave him a look that told Pedri that maybe the joke should have been reserved for Ferran. Despite all the wisdom Pedri had imparted, Gavi hadn't listened. Instead of taking advantage of the swarm of women ready to show him heaven, he had gone and fallen in love with one of his coworkers. Sheesh. What a stupid idea. But he had never seen Gavi, or anyone really, care so much about a person. So he was being a good friend, just pretending that this love story wouldn't go down in flames (badum-tsss).

Pedri was not willing to be a hopeless lover boy. He killed himself on the pitch, and there was no way he wasn't going to enjoy life after the whistle blew.

"I just don't think it's an idea to start involving girls you're going to have to see again."

The statement cut straight through Pedri's daydream of what you would wear to the club that evening. Gavi may have been right. When messing with Instagram models, it was easy to avoid previous flings. A block online, a slip of their photo to Camp Nou security, and worst case scenario, when they came up to him at an event, he just put on his best confused face and asked, "Do I know you?"

But this was new territory. He had toyed around with Tania and Silvia for months now, but it never left the office. Inviting a girl who he would have to see again and again for work out was risky. But the risk-assessing brain cells were on vacation. All that was left were the party neurons, the ones that craved dopamine and finding out what your skin would feel like against his palms. So he pushed all of Gavi's valid objections into a dark corner of his brain. He opted instead to ask,

"So, are you coming out tonight as well?"

Gavi lifted his hoodie up to cover his face, using all his self control to not grab his phone from its place on the coffee table.

"I don't think so. I'm not in the mood to see Ferran or... anyone really. Just want to sit home and watch my show."

"Suit yourself then. I'll let you know how the night ends."

"I'm begging you not to."

You smoothed your hands over your dress one final time. You were pacing around your living room, eagerly waiting for Pedri to pick you up. Despite your best efforts to assure him that you could Uber yourself to the club, he refused, and you couldn't help the giddy feeling at the gentlemanly antics.

Staring at yourself in the mirror once again, you thought of the dates you had been on in your senior year of college. From darties on frat lawns to drive-thrus to fine dining, many guys had tried to win your favor. It wasn't that all of them sucked (even if the majority did). It was just that the guys back home in America were... boring. All of them were pretty self centered and shallow, nice to look at but nothing deeper. While a pretty boy was nice at 19, it was time to grow up and look for something more.

The buzzing of your phone knocked you out of the trance you were in. "Pedri from work" illuminated the screen as you rushed to answer.

"I was going to come in and knock on your door, but I can't get into your building."

You laughed lightly in response, apologizing about the door code while grabbing a jacket and heading downstairs. A low whistle greeted you, dark eyes tracing your figure with a look that you tried not to interpret for your own sanity. A shy smile played across your features as you allowed Pedri to open your car door, sweet talk you throughout the drive, and escort you in to what was more of a lounge than a club. Live musicians played just loud enough for ambiance, but not enough to completely drown out everyone chattering amongst themselves. The two of you walked up to a table of Greek Gods, which you assumed were his teammates.

Pedri introduced you to the group, making sure that his body was physically situated between you and Ferran. He was a good guy somewhere deep, deep down, buried under the anguish of his last girlfriend, who left him upon finding out about the pay reduction that came with moving from Manchester City to FCB. Pedri tried to stop him from taking out his rage on a coworker (and Gavi's crush), but he was hard headed and couldn't be swayed. Eventually he would calm down, and they could go back to being young and single and not bitter. Pedri's phone glowed with a notification from the boy on his mind.

[Gaviiii]: dude i foujd her outside my house just sitting in her car n cryng so im gonna take care of that

[Gaviiii]: dont tect me or call me im not gonna answer

The typos were normal, as it was hard for Gavi to avert his eyes for even one second when his most precious was in sight. Pedri shook off the text and turned his attention back to you, arm coming to rest around your waist in what was meant to be a comforting gesture.

You were not comforted. On the contrary, you were on the verge of throwing up. You were one of only two girls in a circle of incredibly attractive men, the other being someone's wife. You couldn't remember the names of any of them, except for Ferran, who you had been specifically warned about on the drive over. The devil really is a charmer. His short cropped hair showed the angels of his face beautifully, long lashes fanning against his cheeks. A few tattoos peaked out from under rolled up sleeved, and you had to remember that you were with his friend on a... what was this exactly? Pedri had never said anything more than that he wanted to be friends. But he asked you to go out with him, picked you up, gave you the pre-date compliments, and now was shielding you from other men. Were you on a date?

You tried your best to participate in small talk, listening to them go back and forth about football and training and life in general. The various accent were not kind to your brain that was barely used to the Canarian lilt to Pedri's speech.

"Are you okay?"

The whisper came softly in your ear, hot breath against you skin causing an eruption of little bumps. Pedri's arm had not left your waist, but now he was rubbing delicate circles into your skin.

"I'm fine. Just... a little overwhelmed? I feel sort of out of place."

"Don't worry, linda. No one can take their eyes off you."

The affirmation only increased your heart rate once again, the thump against your chest beating in rhythm with the base from the speakers. You were acutely aware of the warmth of his palm against your skin, radiating through the fabric of your dress. You loosened up as the evening progressed, participating in the conversation more confidently and laughing more freely. Slowly, the boys excused themselves from the gathering one by one, and soon it was only you and Pedri in the low light, talking about the most beautiful scenery you have ever seen.

He was lost in describing his home island, the clear waters and lush foliage that he called home. You leaned forward, enraptured by the passion that he spoke with about the places and people he loved. Slowly, you found yourself getting closer and closer, until there was only a few inches of space between you. The gold flecks interspersed in dark brown became clearer, and you struggled to breathe as you watched Pedri's gaze drift to your lips.

"I am getting the impression you want me to kiss you. Please correct me if that's not the case." Pedri breathed out slowly, more strained than you had previously thought. You don't know what you were thinking. Maybe you weren't thinking. You just acted on what felt right. Closing the distance, you joined Pedri's lips to yours, arms around his neck as you kissed with a hunger borderline inappropriate for the public.

You weren't usually this person. It was usually a couple dates before you would allow for a goodnight kiss, let alone the almost make-out you were currently engaged in. You pulled away from Pedri, the heavy breathing a commonality between the two of you. Maybe it was the being in Spain. Maybe it was that he was hot and young and famous. Maybe it was that of all the girls throwing themselves at him, including your coworkers, he picked you after an hour of conversation. Something told you to take a chance on what could be your love at first sight moment. So when Pedri leaned close and asked,

"Do you want to go back to your place?"

There was no answer but yes.

The following morning was filled with bliss. Pedri had woken up just as the first rays of sunlight were painting the stone. He kissed you on the cheek, whispering something akin to "see you around" before he left to training. You floated through your morning, making a coffee in a daze and dressing with a permanent smile. Bryce was still fast asleep, so you left her about 30 minutes worth of voice messages before you had the guts to step out and hail your own cab to work.

You walked into the office still riding the high from the night before. Your skin was ablaze, and every time you thought of the "activities", heat spread through you rapidly. Luckily the November chill kept you from sweating through your bones. Your bliss lasted for most of the morning, as you worked with Maria and a couple of people you had never met to create a mood board for an upcoming photoshoot. As you flipped through paint swatches, a piercing scream split the air, causing you to drop to the ground and cover your head.

"Why are you on the floor, Naranja?"

One of the boys looked at you with raised eyebrows, and a part of your brain registered that your new work nickname had trickled into other departments.

"Oh, sorry. I went to high school in America. Screams like that meant someone was getting jumped. Or shot."

Another scream rippled through the hallway as Maria helped you up.

"That was Silvia. Given recent history, your prediction about her being attacked might be correct."

The both of you scurried down the hall, the clicks of the other department workers followed behind you, eager for the newest and juiciest chisme. The sight before you made you stop dead in your tracks. Roberto was holding Tania by the waist, apparently the only thing that was keeping her away from Silvia, who was on the other side of the room crying and grabbing her head. There was a trail of silver thread between the two hysterical women. No, not thread - hair.

"She cut my hair! She came up behind me and cut my hair!"

"She's a traitor and, more importantly, a whore! I should've slit her throat."

Katerina had finished ushering everyone who didn't work there out of the room, and now she was standing in the middle of the room ready to mediate.

"You two have 5 minutes to explain what the hell happened and why I shouldn't fire you."

Tania had calmed, no longer straining against an iron grip and gaze filled with slightly less murderous intent. She released the clump of hair that she had in her hand onto the floor, revealing the absolute carnage that had taken place. Safe to say Silvia was going to be rocking a pixie cut for the next few weeks. Both of the girls remained silent. The prisoner's dilemma in real time. Katerina clicked her tongue after the moment of silence and simply said, "Roberto."

You could swear you saw a smile on his face briefly before he cleared his throat and began.

"Tania gave the new girl a note with her phone number in it to send to Pedri. Pedri texts the phone number, but instead of addressing it correctly, he says-"

"HEY SILVIA. THIS MORNING HE TEXTS MY NUMBER WITH HER NAME." Tania's outburst had everyone stand up, fearing that she was going to lunge. She remained in place, but no one sat back down.

"So you decided to attack her because he can't tell you two apart?"

"She must have done something to my note. She-"

"No." Katerina interrupted. "I have hear enough. Both of you are no longer working on any project Pedro Gonzalez is involved in."

Protests came from both of the girls, suddenly sullen and docile. They began to plead to be punished with anything else, but not exile from their favorite footballer. As they whimpered to your boss, who reminded them they were lucky to still be employed, it dawned on you. This morning. He texted who he thought was Silvia this morning. In response to a flirty message. After he left your bed. Maybe before he had even left the apartment.

There it was again. The nausea. The urge to projectile vomit. All because of Pedro Gonzalez. Fuck a nickname. He was a rich fuckboy that had played you like a fiddle. You held the tears back as you went back to fabric swatches, taking a moment to block him on Instagram.

"So, how does it feel to be Pedri's personal stylist now?" Katerina startled you, and the shock caused a delay in processing what she had just said.

"His what?"

"Well, now that those two are not allowed to be within 50 meters of him, it's only you and Maria working the Adidas contract. Especially now that Roberto is part of the Olympics team. So you get Pedri, and she gets Bellingham. Perfect, no?"

You nodded, swallowing hard to push the bile back down. This very unfortunate one night stand maybe have been the worst idea you have ever had. You walked through the rest of the day with disgust and rage flowing through you. You decided to brave the cold of the November afternoon and walk home, stopping by a bakery to get something with chocolate to keep the tidal wave of intense depression at bay.

How could this be happening? You weren't this girl. You weren't someone who let yourself be gullible and played. Hell, you had gone the last four years with all of Texas and parts of Mexico vying for your affection. But this little Spanish boy took advantage of the connection you felt, and he had barely left your bed before starting to text your coworker. Your phone buzzed with several messages in rapid succession.

[Pedro Gonzalez]: My agent just told me you were my own personal stylist

[Pedro Gonzalez]: that's good to hear.

[Pedro Gonzalez]: At least I'll have a friend at all these long and boring photoshoots

No mention of the night before. No "I had a good time". No question about your wellbeing. Nothing except his own self interest. How the situation would be good for him. Again. You felt awful as you pushed a teenage boy out of the way, barely making it into the bathroom before throwing your guts up. What the hell. How did you manage to fuck up so poorly so quickly? It was day damn one. And now you were throwing up in a bakery bathroom in Spain because of a man that's 5'9". You sat at a table, cake and coffee cooling in front of you. You didn't trust your legs or your stomach just yet, so you decided to type out a response instead.

Pedri was in overall low spirits. His injury had had another flare up, causing him to limp to the locker room. The email from his agent brightened his day, as he saw your name in the email. He shot a quick text your way, excited at the prospect of seeing you again, only to sour at the response.

[Naranja]: dont speak to me pedro

[Naranja]: we are not friends

[Naranja]: and we never will be

[You can no longer send messages to this user]

~~~

A/N: Here it is! The first part of the new series! Just some preemptive answers: I don't know what my posting schedule will look like and idk how many parts it's going to be. I hope you enjoy this first part. It might be a little rushed because I just wanted to set up the main story. Please let me know your thoughts in comments and asks! I'll try to reply to as many as I can. I love you all <3

Palestine: I will try to donate $1 for every comment that has a watermelon or an olive in it. I will keep y'all updated with how it goes.

Here are some more links to please please please look at while you're here.

Care for Gaza: an org that has been getting help and aid to people on the ground -> https://www.gofundme.com/f/careforgaza

Daily click that donates money to help Palestinians -> https://arab.org/click-to-help/palestine/

#gavisuntiedboot #gub we cant be friends #pedri #pedri x reader #pedri gonzalez imagine #pedri imagine #pedri blurb #pedri gonzalez #pedri x y/n #pedri x you #pedri gonzalez one shot #pedri fanfic #footballer #football rpf #football fanfic

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