Tongue Tricks?

SPENCEEE

Lose Control

Spencer finds himself locked in a room with his rival. Based on:

warning: 18+ explicit content including oral (both), hair-pulling, chocking, and unprotected, semi-public, hate sex

words: 6.8k (I'm a smut-with-a-plot kind of person)

a/n: this is not enemies to lovers. This is, quite frankly, enemies to (fuckable) enemies. Also, we hit 1.2k followers!! Tysm!! I legit made this blog 2 months ago that’s crazyyy😳

MASTERLIST

“…mind games until you lose control…”

CHANGE WAS INEVITABLE WHEN IT CAME TO HIS WORK. Spencer encountered many great people walking through the door of the bureau throughout the years he worked as a profiler. Most of them he genuinely liked, and most of them he considered more than mere colleagues. But from all the people he had to work with, there was one person he really couldn't stand.

"Move out of the way, Reid, you're blocking the way."

He turned to see the last person he wanted to indulge in standing close to him, a hand on her hip and a frown on her face. "There is literally enough space for you to pass through."

"And jeopardize myself by touching you?" She wrinkled her nose. "I think I'll pass."

His gaze, usually warm and welcoming, hardened into a steely resolve. It pierced through her like an icy dagger, radiating an unmistakable contempt. He then backed away, walking further into the room that held rows of shelving units lining up the space. "What are you even doing here?"

"Well, ever since we found the victim's body surrounded by those cryptic signs, it reminded me of the cult massacre which happened in—"

"St. Joseph, 1947," he finished.

"Yeah, although this isn't mass murder, I thought the nature of the death was very similar to that old case." He could practically hear the smugness in her voice as she continued, "I also knew you'd be here and wanted to beat you to it."

His gaze settled on her standing by the door. "I don't think that's going according to plan considering I was here before you arrived."

"Please, you just got here. I bet I can find the files before you do."

His brows furrowed. How could he not feel some kind of disdain when she was acting the way she was? One might say he was acting too immature for his age, for a man who was close to pushing forty he did consider himself too old for petty fights. But it was hard to keep his composure when she was often the one taunting him, ridiculing him with that haughty mouth of hers.

It was better to ignore her presence completely, so he did just that, focusing his attention on the files in front of him as she stepped into the room.

Y/n frowned, feeling her throat clenching before coughing out loud as dust particles greeted her entrance. She was busy trying to swat the specks of dust away from her face when something solid suddenly nudged her feet. Her eyes swept towards the floor.

"Why is this massive book laying here?" She picked up the thick paperback and read its title. "The Anatomy of Motive?"

Spencer's head snapped in an alert. "Wait! Don't—"

But it was too late. The old wooden door hanging loosely on its rusted hinges creaked without any support to keep it ajar, and with a resounding thud, it closed, the sound echoing through the stagnant air. "I put that there for a reason," he grumbled. "And now we're stuck here."

She leaned forward and wrapped her hand around the handle, trying to yank the door open. The panic on her face was evident when it didn't budge. "Shit."

"You can only open it from the other side."

She turned towards him. "Do you have your phone with you?"

"No."

She groaned because her own device was also securely tucked in her bag. Not wanting to be locked in a room with the last person she wanted to be with, Y/n started pounding on the door frantically. "Help! Penelope! Luke!" Bang. Bang. "Anyone!"

"Nobody's going to hear you."

She tuned him out.

"Emily! JJ!" Y/n pressed herself against the door, drawing her mouth close towards the tiny gap between the wooden panel and the wall. "Help! We're locked in!" She suddenly caught his movement from the corner of her eyes and turned to him, noticing the way he was already studying a file.

"What are you doing?"

He slipped back the document into the cabinet and went through the other folders. "Might as well work until they realize we're gone."

She straightened herself and glanced at the watch around her wrist. "But it's late. What if everyone's gone home and we're stuck here for the night?" A thought struck her and she looked up in horror. "Or for days?"

"Then you have yourself to blame."

She glared at him. "You're not helping."

Spencer looked up to see her jaw clenching, accentuating the sharp angles of her face. Her normally composed features, so delicately balanced, now seemed to unravel in a heat of fury. It was the only expression she held every time she had to deal with him.

He glanced away and focused back on his task. "Don't worry, we have a team of competent profilers. If they can find dangerous criminals throughout the country, they can also find their two missing agents."

She considered his words and acknowledged the truth behind them, so she reluctantly moved to the other side of the room, going through the shelves opposite of him. The space went completely still as they both went through the stack of folders shelved between the old cabinets. It wasn't until curiosity got the better of him that he finally looked up, his eyes falling onto her form.

Her back was facing him, giving him a view of her tousled hair falling down over her shoulders. His eyes involuntarily trailed the contours of her body, betraying a mixture of intrigue and curiosity. His gaze lingered upon the gentle curve of her shoulder, the graceful line of her spine, and the sway of her hips as she moved onto the next shelf, her steps echoing through the silence and it was then he realized she was wearing heels.

Again.

This wasn't the first time she decided to wear shoes that looked very uncomfortable to wear. Who even wore heels in this line of work? Being an FBI agent meant you had to be quick on your feet because anything could happen unexpectedly. He once voiced out his opinion on this matter, which she only answered with, "My choice of clothing won't reduce the capability of my brain, Reid. You and I are still doctors even if I wear a bathing suit to work."

"It's not about your choice of clothing, it's about being practical."

"That's why I keep a pair of sneakers in my drawers,” she had haughtily replied, then narrowed her eyes at him. "And don't comment on my shoes when I've held myself from judging on your ugly cardigans."

His cardigans were not ugly.

He shook the memory away as eyes roamed over her again, noticing her very exposed legs. She was also wearing a skirt today, something she often did and something he never dared to have an opinion on, knowing she would probably bite his head off if he did.

"Stop staring at me."

Spencer cleared his throat at being caught. "I wasn't."

"I could practically feel your eyes on me." She looked over her shoulder. "I have great spidey senses."

There was a sudden pause. "Spidey senses?"

"Yeah, like Spiderman." When he didn't respond, she turned around and faced him. "Please tell me you know who Spiderman is?"

When he returned her gaze with a frown, she couldn't help but laugh, turning her back towards him again. "You know this is why people like me better than you. We both may be smart, but you got to admit, my knowledge doesn't simply stop on academics."

He should've been offended by her words, he should've countered back a vile reply, but her voice became white noise to him as he watched her body leaning down, picking up a document that slipped from her grasp. His eyes caught the way the tight skirt clung to her form like a second skin. The fabric, stretched taut against her curves, highlighted the alluring lines of her figure. The skirt's snug fit caressed her thighs, tracing their slender form and hinting at the softness beneath.

This wasn't the first time he noticed her beauty in this type of way, beneath all that glare she often carried whenever he was around her, he knew she was an attractive woman. It was her personality that often stopped him from marveling this insight. But being in this closed, tight space, Spencer was forced to study her, and with the way his body was reacting, he knew his lingering stare was more than simple admiration.

He could feel his blood pulsing down south, tightening underneath the confinement of his pants.

As she straightened herself, Y/n felt a sudden shift in the atmosphere. She turned her head and noticed his eyes training on her body.

"You're still staring." She then caught a glimpse of something unguarded in his gaze, something that was definitely far from hatred. Her mind whirled with questions, trying to decipher the meaning behind it. "Stop looking at me like that."

A hint of a smile played on his lips. "Like what?"

"Like you either want to strangle me or—"

"Or?" He prompted.

Like you want to eat me alive.

It was the only way she could describe it. She was aware of how his eyes usually pierced her, how every movement she made or word she uttered could trigger this immense disdain radiating from him. But now the weight of his gaze bore down upon her, casting a palpable heat that danced across her skin. Something had changed, and she felt it in the intensity of his eyes, so different from the usual hostility she had come to expect.

They held a predatory gleam as if he could pounce on her at any moment.

“If I hadn't known you better," she carefully spoke, watching as he took a step towards her, and she took one back, bumping into the wall. "I'd say you're trying to flirt with me with those eyes."

"Me? Flirt with you?" He cocked an eyebrow. "Don't flatter yourself."

She scoffed, squaring her shoulders as he closed the distance between them. "You're right. What was I thinking? You can't even flirt to live."

"You don't even know how I flirt."

"Reid, I've seen you flirt," she said between fits of laughter. "Remember you tried getting that cop's number? You were stuttering and suddenly giving her facts about oil paintings. Paintings."

"She had an interest in fine art," he stated. "And if you must know, after giving those informative facts, I told that no amount of art could ever compare to her beauty as a compliment.”

She snorted, shaking her head in disbelief. "And that actually worked? She gave you her number?"

"No." Then a smirk curled on his lips. "But she did come home with me."

She frowned. That was new information. Y/n never really thought about what went on in his love life, but hearing him implying his active sex life had her feeling strange. "She did?"

He took another step forward. "If I hadn't known you better," he carefully spoke, mimicking her words before. "I'd say you're jealous."

She tilted her head up and scowled at him. "Even if you were the last person on this planet I wouldn't consider breathing in the same air with you."

She waited for his response, but he didn't even seem to be bothered by her words. And as they stood there, holding each other's gaze, she became acutely aware of everything; their close proximity, the warmth radiating from his body, and the rise and fall of his chest. His unfamiliar scent lingered in the air, a distinct combination of earthy musk and a hint of something indefinable. She had never allowed herself to notice it before, but now it was impossible to ignore.

Her eyes then traced the lines on his face, sharp jaw, high cheekbones, and finally settled on his eyes. At first, she thought her eyes was deceiving her, but she knew exactly what held behind his gaze. It was the same expression she saw in all her past lovers. It wouldn’t have surprised her to see the same intensity on other men, but to see it on him? The guy who had always hated her guts the moment she corrected his statistic rants the first time they met?

Spencer fucking Reid?

It was too much for her to handle. She was used to his piercing gaze, his evident disdain. Not this. It became almost overwhelming that she decided to step away.

Just as she turned to retreat from the intensity of his gaze, her body froze as she felt warm fingers gripping her wrist. The contact sent a jolt through her body and her eyes snapped back at him. "What the hell are you doing?"

Ah, there it was, that hatred she was looking for blazing in his eyes again. "You see, I don't like you."

"Good." She held her chin up. "The feeling's mutual."

"You think you're better than everybody else, you think you're better than me."

She was about to retort another response when he suddenly yanked her, a gasp leaving her mouth. "But somehow I can’t help myself from wanting to taste you.”

Then it happened so fast. One moment she was trying to register what was happening, the next thing she knew his lips were on hers, moving frantically in desperate hunger. She couldn't believe he was actually kissing her. It also burned her up inside to find he was good at it. She wanted him to be all teeth and awkward so she could sneer at him and push him away, but he was holding her face in his hands like they hadn't spent months sniping at each other.

A turmoil of thoughts swarmed her mind—What are you doing? Why are you kissing him back? What the hell is wrong with you?—while she gripped onto his arm as a pleased sigh slipped through her mouth before she could catch it.

He slowly pulled away from her, eyes glittering in mischief. "Would you look at that?" he muttered, gripping her jaw and tilting her face like he was appraising her. "All bark and no bite."

She shoved his hands away from her face, ignoring how nice it had felt, wide and warm and firm. "Don't test me."

"Yeah?" His hand settled on her hip, pulling her against him deliberately slow, giving her every opportunity to knock his hand away, to sidestep him, to tell him to stop, but she didn't. He took it as a sign to run his hand behind her. "I think you're bluffing."

Her heart quickened when she felt him gently squeezing her ass. "A-About what?"

"All this bravado of yours," he taunted, his hands now trailing down to her sides. "I bet there's something sweet underneath all this bitterness."

"You don't know me," she hissed breathlessly. It was difficult to keep snapping back at him when his other hand ran up her leg, pushing her skirt up as he went, his grip encompassing the entire width of her thigh.

"Maybe not. But I'm always up for a challenge." His calloused hand brushed at the lacy edge of her underwear and she sucked in a shaky breath. "Let's see how long you can keep up with this attitude."

She opened her mouth to say something snippy, but he ducked down and kissed the words out of her mouth with a low groan. Her brain suddenly froze when his finger curled under the outline of her underwear and tugged it to the side, trailing his slender finger through her bare slit.

A smirk curled at the corner of his lips as pulled away, trailing his mouth along her jawline. His finger brushed along her slickness and it took a lot of self-control for her not to moan. "How are you already so wet?"

Although a small gasp emitted from her as she felt him sliding a finger, and when his thumb pressed against her clit, she closed her eyes, tossing her head to the side at the feeling of him filling her up.

"You're awfully quiet," he murmured against her neck, sucking a bruise against her soft skin as he began to pump his finger. "Who would've thought I had to touch you to keep your mouth shut."

She bit her bottom lip, fighting against the pleasure that surged through her, desperately trying to suppress the enjoyment coursing through her veins. "I hate you."

"No, you don't." His tone was vexingly calm, and all it did was rile her up more. She wished he'd match her frustration because his composure was annoying. Then to make matters worse, he let out an amused laugh. He fucking laughed. "Look at you trying to hold yourself back."

"I'm not—fuck." She gasped as she felt his finger curling inside her.

"Keep telling yourself that." He added another finger and she slumped against the wall, pressing back hard to keep herself upright as he pumped his wrist. "It's okay to admit you're enjoying this."

"I-I'm not," she huffed indignantly.

"Has anyone ever told you you're a bad liar?"

Her breath mingled with the sound of her arousal echoing in the narrowed space as he drove his fingers into her faster. "Shut up, Reid." She then grabbed onto his arm as the pleasure intensified, nails digging into his skin. "You think you're so smart, so full of yourself—"

"You really like picking up a fight, don't you? That's why you always have an attitude with me." His lips brushed her ear. "It gets you worked up. It gets you wet."

She quickly shook her head. "I just don't like you."

"Hmm." He leaned back and watched the way she tensed beneath his touch, her muscles coiling with delicate restraint. It was as if she fought against the pleasure that threatened to consume her, seeking to maintain control even as her body betrayed her desires. "I wonder if you'll like it as much if I put my head between your thighs."

The thought of having his face buried right where her arousal burned drove her over the edge. Her body betrayed her and she knew he could feel it too. "Oh wow, you're clenching around my fingers," he hummed in satisfaction. "Is that what you want? You want me to eat you out?"

"No," she mumbled but he found her hips bucking against his palm.

"Your body is saying otherwise." He withdrew his fingers but kept rubbing tight circles against her clit. Her blood was hammering under her skin and her legs shook as she tried to roll her hips up against his hand again. "Say you want me between your thighs."

She gritted her teeth, her muscles tightening in a valiant effort to hold back the mounting pleasure that begged to be unleashed. "I'm not saying that."

"Are you sure?" His other hand traveled along the back of her head before fisting her hair in his hand, exposing the column of her throat to him. "Don't you want to come all over my face?"

"Reid..." she mumbled hopelessly, her head spinning as his hot breath brushed against her skin. The thought of admitting that infuriated her because him actually getting her off was something she'd never live down. This was Spencer Reid, the man who had always infuriated her with his know-it-all statistics as if she hadn't already known half of the things he said.

But damn it, she really wanted him between her thighs.

"Say it," he repeated, moving his hand away entirely, and she grabbed his wrist desperately, pulling his fingers back to where she wanted them. "Say I want your mouth on me, Spencer, and I'll happily oblige."

"Reid—"

"Spencer," he corrected. "Say it."

Her body quivered, a taut wire stretched to its limit, yearning to snap under the weight of the pleasure that coursed through her. And then his finger suddenly stopped its movement and she knew he wasn't going to touch her again until she gave in. If that's how he wanted it, fine. She was going to consider this as one of their silly mind games, their usual banter whenever they tried to outwit one another. She could figure out a way to get back at him later. She could swallow her pride for now.

"I want your mouth on me," she reluctantly caved in.

"Did you forget my name?"

Unbelievable.

"I fucking hate you," she sneered. Then she pushed him away from the crook of her neck and leveled her gaze on him. "Just put your fucking mouth on me, Spencer."

He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "You have a very foul mouth."

But true to his words, he eventually dropped to his knees, his hands trailing on either of her sides before he slipped her underwear down her legs. His fingers trailed along her skin as he did it, prickling the depth of her anticipation even when her mind was still trying to comprehend what she was letting herself in.

Because she had never thought of getting eaten out at work, let alone with someone she hated. Sure, hate was a very strong word, but it was what she was used to feeling whenever it came to him. It was easy to engross her hatred every time he treated her differently from the others.

Hate she could do, it came naturally to her. But to desire him, actually wanting him to bury his face between her thighs, was starting to mess her up, and not in a bad way. Not in a way that had her feeling repulsed, but in a way that made her want to grab onto his hair and pull his face right at the center of her heat.

Spencer looked up at her and smiled, as if he knew what she was thinking, and pushed up her skirt around her hips. His eyes bored into her as he hiked one of her legs onto his shoulder. His gaze traveled down her body, taking in her flushed cheeks—out of anger or embarrassment, he didn't know—and continued to sweep over the curve of her breasts before they stopped right in front of him.

"Look at you." He leaned closer, his breath brushed her damp skin. "Aren't you a pretty thing?"

There was something compelling about having Spencer sinking on his knees before her, but having his mouth wrapped around her clit pulled away her senses and her legs started to buckle that she had to grab onto the nearest cabinet for support. She stifled a moan, not expecting the enthusiastic way he devoured her from below with frantic motions of his wandering tongue.

This was so wrong. However, heat continued washing over, traveling up towards her face and burning at the tips of her ears. The more his mouth sucked onto her, lapping his tongue through her slickness, the more her body coursed with pleasure that she couldn't stop herself from sinking her fingers into his hair, holding him in place as she ground her hips over his face.

"For someone who claims to hate me," he whispered, his voice vibrating against her skin, his tongue pushing into her walls. "You sure are enjoying this."

A moan was thick in her throat until she swallowed it down, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of how true his words were. "You're annoying. So fucking annoying," she hissed.

Spencer hummed. "And you taste so good."

She gasped in surprise when she felt him lick a long stripe along her slit, the rough pad of his tongue catching her clit as she jolted. His fingers dipped into her thighs as he held her steady, lewd sounds leaving his lips as he continued to suck her wetness. His movements were suddenly fast, so feral and animalistic as he shamelessly lapped her skin, swallowing every liquid dripping off her body.

The built-up pleasure inside her continued to grow as she rolled her hips into his mouth, trying to focus on the sensation of him pressing his tongue against the same spot each time. Her chest was heaving as she tried to focus on the pleasure that was slowly taking over her rational thoughts, the coil inside her desperately close to breaking.

"Oh, god," Her voice shook, head tipped back and eyes staring at the ceiling as she felt herself dance on the precipice of release for a few agonizing moments before she finally started to shatter. Then a strangled cry left her lips as she began to buck her hips as he continued to suck her clit through her climax, the pleasure clouding her mind. It wasn't until he finally stood up, looking down at her with a grin that she finally took in what just happened.

"Do you still hate me?"

Yes, yes she did, especially with that smug smile of his taunting her. Yet she found herself hooking her fingers around the belt strap of his pants, pulling him closer as the weight of her resistance began to crumble under the force of his unwavering gaze. "So fucking much." The triumphant smile on his face grew as she started to unbuckle his belt, the sound echoing in the room. "Do you have a condom?"

"Do you really think I'm the type of person to be carrying a condom in my pocket?"

"I think you're the type of person who never gets laid." He threw her an uninterested stare which she decided to ignore. Then she let her hands fall to the side. "I'm not having sex without a condom."

Spencer weighed in her words. If he was smart, he would've stopped himself, pulled away, and accept her admission. But he didn't want to be smart, after depending on his intelligence throughout his life, he didn't want to be rational. It was definitely out of his character, but there was something about her that stirred a dormant part of him, awakening desires and emotions he hadn't known existed within his soul.

He had always prided himself on his restraint and self-discipline, but after finally having a taste of her, he found himself unraveling. He wanted more. So he leaned closer, and pressed a desperate kiss at the hollow of her throat, marveling at the way her body trembled from his touch. "Why not?"

She was going to regret it. She really was. But damn it, how could she restrain herself when he was sucking into her skin like a man starved. Y/n splayed her hands on his chest and pushed him away before giving him the deadliest glare she could muster.

"I swear to god if you finish inside me I will kill you."

Then a smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. "Was planning to come in your mouth anyway."

She was about to retort a haughty response when he suddenly grabbed her by the elbow and turned her around, pushing her against the wall. She was taken aback by the newfound dominance he exuded in his touch. It was a side of him she had never witnessed before, and it sent a thrill of surprise and intrigue coursing through her veins, something she would never admit out loud.

He dragged his tongue across his lips at the sight before him as his hands reached for his belt, unclasping the strap before unbuttoning his pants, the sound of his zipper being pulled down echoing in the narrowed space. He then slightly pulled down his briefs, slipping out his cock before his knee wedged in between her thighs, parting her legs to open.

He slightly shifted, his jaw twitching as he gathered saliva in his mouth, craning his neck down to spit on her pulsing core before the head of his cock gently nudged her clit. Embarrassingly, she clenched around nothing. Her vision went white and she felt herself tremble as he positioned himself at her entrance, pushing in inch by inch.

"Fuck," he sighed, hips twitching as he finally slid into her fully, feeling her walls clenching hard around him. "I can get used to this."

She could get used to this too. She had never felt so full before, never felt herself being stretched like this so deliciously, but she certainly didn't need to feed his ego by moaning about it. "Well don't, this is the only time I'm letting this happen."

He pulled back his hips, leaving only the tip as he watched her slickness coated around him. "We'll see about that."

And then all hell broke loose.

He slammed into her with so much force that she let out a muffled scream as her eyes shot wide open. He relentlessly bucked his hips, his cock filling her over and over without self-control, the tip of him hitting her deepest parts relentlessly. She could barely even think as his hips fell into a rhythm, sending her higher and higher with each thrust.

Her legs tensed up even more at the pressure, his hands gripping her hips so hard his fingers dig into her flesh that she knew she would leave bruises. Behind her, he was grunting and growling through gritted teeth as he repeatedly buried himself into her without remorse. It didn't take long before his vicious thrusts had her eyes rolling back behind closed lids, her mind going entirely blank to everything but this very moment.

One of his hands released her hip before she felt him grabbing a fistful of her hair, just at the base of her skull, and sharply pulling. A high-pitched, breathy noise tore out of her at the feel of it. "Poor baby," he cooed. "Look at you so desperate for my cock."

She couldn't help but be stunned by his words. Who would've thought Spencer Reid was good at dirty talk? Definitely not her. It was as though he had unveiled a secret facet of his personality that had remained hidden until now, and she found herself captivated by this revelation.

Not that she was going to admit this, of course, so instead, she solely focused on the way he addressed her. "I am not your baby."

"You want me to call you something else?" He asked between bated breaths, hips thrusting into her. "How about Angel? Darling? Sweetheart?"

She let out a frustrated groan at his teasing but it was probably impossible to discern it from the rest of the noises she was trying to hold. "Are you always this chatty during sex?"

"No," he hummed as he picked up his pace, sending a helpless spasm through her.

"R-Really?" She mused breathlessly. "I must be special then."

He then tugged on her hair even rougher, causing her to curse loudly in response, her hips beginning to eagerly press backward into him as his hips jutted into her relentlessly like a man possessed. "Don't get too cocky."

"Just admit it," she whispered, pleasure racing down her body in waves. "You like me."

With another sharp tug on her hair, he abruptly plunged his cock so deep inside of her that she couldn't stop herself from arching her back. He held himself there as he used the grip on her hair to haul her backward to him, a surprised yelp falling out of her. "I don't like you."

Her back fell onto his chest and she felt his body vibrating behind her. "Then why is your heart beating so fast?"

"Well, sex is physically exerting so..."

How was it possible to be this aroused and annoyed at the same time? Wasn't sex supposed to be enjoyable? Well, she was clearly enjoying this, but it was hard to fully sink into the pleasure when he was driving her insane. Unless...

It dawned on her, that was her move. That was how she could play his game. Maybe she should be enjoying this to the fullest, maybe she should stroke his ego, get into his head, and have him feel as desperate as she was. A fierce determination ignited within her, fueling a newfound resolve to turn the tables on him. This was how she was going to get him back.

"Harder," she asked, pushing her hips into him.

His pace suddenly slowed down, uncertain whether he was hearing her right. "Yeah?"

She nodded. "Please?" she added before he could prompt her.

A satisfied sound escaped his lips—it was a sound she had never heard coming from him, loud and crude emitting between a growl and something coming close to a whimper, which had her smiling triumphantly. "L-Look at you begging now."

This was easier than she expected. She rolled her head back against his shoulder and let out a moan she had kept so hard on controlling. "I want you to fuck me harder, Spencer."

His sharp intake of breath at that moment was worth it. "I know what you're doing."

"What am I doing, baby?" she asked sweetly, dripping in forced affection that sounded nothing like her at all.

He instantly released the hold on her hair, his hand snaking around to grip her throat as his other hand slid around the front of her. "You're messing with me."

She let out a strained sound as she felt his other hand traveling down where they were connected. "I-I thought you wanted me to admit how good you make me feel? Is that not enough? You want me to cry out how amazing your cock feels inside me?"

Then she couldn't help her next words.

"Should I call you daddy?"

Oh, that got him. He hissed as the hand on her throat tightened. "You're a menace."

"A menace you enjoy fucking?"

His lips curled into a snarl. "I'm going to wipe that smug look off your face."

Only then he began to thrust back into her roughly. A series of breathy, needy gasps fell out of her as she held tight onto his forearm that was holding her by her throat. His other hand on her clit circled around roughly, touching her just right that she entirely lost it, her hips quaked against him as he groaned out in response, her walls clenching his cock.

Then his hand left her clit a few moments later, instead landing hard on her ass with a sharp smack that sounded throughout the room. His fingers dug into the flesh there as his hips began clumsily ramming into her, his cock twitching inside of her. The stimulation was too much for her that she clamped a hand over her mouth, trying to keep quiet as he stretched her harshly, the delicious burn only adding to the pleasure.

"You're still holding back?" He taunted, bringing back his hand before another loud smack rang in her ears, her ass burning from the pain. "Let that voice out, no one's going to hear you."

It was amazing how long she could hold in her pleasure because now her walls were starting to crumble when a particularly deep and brutal thrust had his cock hitting her just right. And then, it happened—the dam of restraint finally burst. A low moan escaped her lips, a primal cry of pleasure that echoed through the room like a song of surrender

"That's it," he grunted. "You sound so pretty."

As the sensations intensified, her breaths came in shallow gasps, her heart pounding in her chest. Once she let herself go, she couldn't stop herself from moaning out his name, to which he responded with his own moan, especially when she clenched around him even tighter.

"You gonna come for me now?" She helplessly nodded, not trusting herself to form any coherent words, squirming her hips against him for more. "Go on then," he demanded, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. "Come for me."

She finally snapped as she gave in to the sensation that had been gradually crawling its way up her spine. Pleasure was soon coating every inch of her and as her eyes closed. She didn't bother to muffle her cries this time as she fell apart around his cock, her body convulsing as he continued to thrust inside her, forcing the pleasure to keep growing stronger and stronger until small black spots started to appear in her vision.

When her climax had washed over, she was left dizzy and breathless, still leaning against him. His loud panting breaths quickly filled her ears, his chest heaving beneath her head and she could tell by the way his hips were fluctuating in their pace, the feel of his throbbing cock inside of her, that he was very close to his release.

Panic suddenly crept into her daze state and she craned her neck to look back. "Don't you dare finish inside me, I swear to god—"

Very abruptly he slipped his cock out from inside of her, his arms releasing their hold on her just as fast before turning her to face him.

"Get on your knees."

The ground scraped her skin as she quickly sank onto her knees, and just because he looked so damn good tethering in his pleasure as she stared up at him, she gripped his cock in her hands and took him fully in her mouth.

"Fuck," the gravel in his voice was prominent, her lips gliding effortlessly down his shaft until her nose hits his stomach. His hand finds its way into her hair as she kneeled there before him, fisting a bunch of it at the scalp, desperately needing something to tie him down to reality.

She slid back off his cock to take just his head inside her mouth, swirling her tongue around it before flattening it against his tip, licking a fat stripe while looking up at him through her lashes. Spencer sucked in a sharp breath, tightening the grip on her hair.

Maintaining his gaze, she took him completely down her throat again, essentially swallowing him, holding herself there until she gagged around him. She could taste him on her tongue as she continued to repeat the motion, tears welling at her lids and saliva building at her lips, seeping down her chin.

He groaned at the sight.

"I-I'm gonna come—"

And he did. She felt lightheaded as the first shot of liquid filled her mouth, then he jutted his hips a few more times before another surge of his release spilled down her throat. She swallowed him whole, swallowed every drop of him into her mouth as he continued to look down in wonder. Y/n never thought of ever being in this position, but now she decided there was nothing else more satisfying than to watch her rival come undone from her touch.

Although she couldn't dwell in her contentment for long because as she released him from her mouth, the sound of the door rattling waked her senses. Panic flashed in her eyes as they met his gaze, and they instinctively stepped apart before sprinting into action, Spencer tucking himself back in his pants, while she quickly got to her feet and pulled down her skirt, scurrying to the other side of the room.

It wasn't until she spotted her underwear laying by his feet that she realized she was still naked underneath. Spencer followed her line of sight and just as the door creaked, he bent down and quickly grabbed the fabric, shoving it in his pocket at the same time their friend entered the room.

"There you are," Luke sighed in relief, casting them both a look. "We've been searching everywhere for you guys. Are you both alright? I thought I heard screaming."

In that fleeting moment, they both exchanged a glance laden with unspoken messages, each silently urging the other to maintain composure.

"Yes. I-uh." She cleared her throat, struggling to suppress the heat rising to her cheeks, willing herself not to betray the blush that threatened to expose what went on before this. "I was screaming for help."

Luke watched them with keen eyes, skepticism etched upon his face. A subtle tension crackled in the air, barely noticeable to most but not escaping the scrutiny of his gaze. He watched as Spencer hid his face behind a file he was holding, and Y/n was studying her nails as if they were the most interesting thing in the world.

He narrowed his eyes but didn't say anything, before stepping back towards the door again. "Well, come on, there's a new lead on the case. Everyone's waiting."

When he finally left them alone again, Y/n let out a breath she wasn't aware of holding and quickly held out her hand. Spencer raised his eyebrows at her. "What?"

"My underwear?"

He stared at her empty hand, then at her face, and shrugged nonchalantly, leaving her dumbfounded as he started to leave the room before the door closed on them again.

"Reid," she hissed, following behind him. "Give it back."

He looked over his shoulder and gave her a smile, or something close to it because even after what happened a few minutes ago his smile was far from looking genuine. "Come by my place after work and I might give it to you."

Her steps faltered.

"Might?"

But his back was already facing her as he strode down the hallway. She stood there, feeling extremely exposed wearing nothing but her own skin underneath her skirt, and the only way to get back her missing piece of clothing was to force herself in his presence again.

She closed her eyes and sighed, not sure what she felt right now was either anger or exhaustion. Probably both—no, wait, definitely both.

Because what the fuck did she get herself into?

.

Quick question, if I make a taglist for my one-shots does anyone want to be added?

Enemy [D.M.]

A/N: I get so much inspo from Dani and Nani tbh, but this is for @silverdelirium 🤍

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!virgin!reader

Words: 3.1k

Summary: kinda based on this. Enemy Draco fucking virgin reader, leaving her to slip into sub space.

Warnings: NSFW! (+16), virgin reader, dub con, daddy kink, vaginal sex, degradation, praise, oral (f receiving), sub space, choking, crying. Lmk if I missed anything.

The breath was knocked slightly out of you as your body bumped against the side of the tall figure walking in the opposite direction to you. A scowl decorated his face and an annoyed grunt left his lips.

“Watch where you’re going, y/l/n,” he growled, stopping in his tracks to turn towards you.

“Oh, Malfoy, didn’t see you there,” you smirked, angling your head up to look at him as he stepped closer.

“You better watch yourself.”

Your smirk only grew, your bodies so close your chests were practically touching.

“What're you gonna do, huh? Tell your father I bumped into you,” you poked, playing with fire. You knew you’d struck something by the way his eyes blazed and nostrils flared.

A small smirk twitched on his lips, “y/l/n, I’d advise you to shut that little mouth of yours.”

The electricity buzzed all around you, the silence bouncing on the walls of the empty corridor as you stared into his grey stormy eyes.

“Make me,” you whispered smugly.

Draco closed his eyes, shaking his head, “that’s it.”

Before you could process what was happening, Draco had your arm in his grasp hauling you with him. You were pushed into a dusty broom cupboard, one abandoned by Filch many years ago.

Draco shut the door firmly behind him, pushing your body against the dusty wall, pressing himself up against you.

“What're you doing?” you asked, voice strained as you were pressed against the wall.

“Teaching a slutty little brat a lesson.”

You gasped as Draco’s hand snaked around your body, grasping your throat with his large hand, squeezing just enough for it to be felt.

He used his free hand to flip up your skirt, landing a harsh smack right on the smooth flesh.

“Ow, Malfoy!” you tried turning your head, but he only squeezed your throat tighter.

“Shut your mouth, stupid brat…- and you’ll address me as daddy, you got that?”

You tried straining, but to no avail.

“I said, you got that?” he growled right by your ear, pinching your thigh.

“Yes,” you breathed out shakily.

“Yes, what?”

You shut your eyes, “yes, daddy.”

Draco let out a pleased hum, moving your lace panties to the side and running a finger through your folds without warning.

“Such a fucking slut, all wet from being pressed against a wall,” he chuckled sadistically.

Nerves ran through your body and mind, your mouth shut quiet as you listened to the zip of Draco’s school trousers and the clinking of his belt. You let out another gasp as you felt something run through your folds once more before prodding at your entrance.

The nerves clouded your mind and your body tensed right as he pushed into you in one swift motion.

“Ow, Daddy,” you whimpered, knuckles turning white as they balled against the wall.

“Aww, can your slutty little cunt not handle it?” he cooed mockingly.

He thrust his hips against yours, fast deep strokes that hit spots within you, you didn’t know existed.

“Not so smart are you now,” Draco smirked, pulling your head against his shoulder as he kept rutting into you.

You shook your head, the pain bleeding into pleasure and a buzz ringing through your mind.

Draco just laughed, squeezing your throat.

“It hasn’t even been ten minutes and you’re already fucked dumb, dirty little slut.”

You could only moan in response, mouth open and slack as he kept moving his hips against your bottom.

His free hand moved over the front of your body, landing inside your panties; his finger found your clit, rubbing circles on the sensitive nub. You jumped at the friction, a whimper tore from your throat and your cunt squeezed around Draco’s cock.

“Daddy, feels weird in my tummy,” you whined, Draco’s fingers speeding up on your clit.

“Such a greedy fucking slut…- cum around my cock then,” Draco grunted, voice strained as he neared his release.

Your legs shook and your body stiffened as you tumbled over the edge, pushed by Draco’s hard thrusts into you. Your knees buckled, but his grip on you kept you up against him, your chest pushed into the wall.

“Can’t even stand by yourself, ‘s fucking pathetic,” Draco growled, his grip on you tight.

With a few more thrusts Draco stilled, filling you up, letting out an outright pornographic groan.

You tried catching your breath, eyes closed and mind fogging like a windshield. It crept its way up your body, filling your mind with static, leaving you unable to focus on anything but Draco and his cock still within you.

He gave your parted lips a peck before patting your cheek and pulling out; a whimper was pulled from your lips, your body stiff in place. Draco moved your panties back over your cunt, keeping in your mixed releases, patting your bum.

“That should keep you in check,” he murmured with a smirk, pleased to watch you speechless, struggling on shaky legs to turn around.

He tucked himself away, giving you a quick look before he left.

You were so confused and out of it, heart stinging as you watched the door close behind him - you felt so useless and used.

.

The static never left, it trailed after you, making everything impossible to hear. A couple of your friends had tried talking to you, but nothing could break you out of the mindset you were in; your friends didn’t think much of it, you just seemed distracted, your eyes slightly out of focus. You didn’t see Draco for most of the day. Your mind was fuzzy, but all of his words still played on repeat, plus a nagging voice that told you, that you needed to find him, to be close to him - you craved him.

Draco watched you, books in your grasp as you made your way down the same corridor as before. You hadn’t seen him, you looked lost and confused, walking without a real destination. Draco smirked slightly, even if confusion did spark within him; you hadn’t even looked at him or acknowledged him, he knew that you were supposed to hate each other, but that didn’t mean ignoring each other.

As your figure grew closer, he moved slightly onto the opposite side of the hallway, so when you eventually went to pass one another he bumped purposely into you. What he didn’t expect was with so much static rummaging through your mind your balance wasn’t fully functional and you lost your footing. The books you held scattered around you as you landed on the ground with a ‘thud’. Your eyes widened and you looked around confused, that was until your eyes landed on Draco, stopped in his tracks, his eyes as wide as yours. At this particular moment, your brain couldn’t piece together why he would be so mean to you, your emotions running at an all-time high.

Draco internally panicked as he saw the tears well up in your eyes, your chin wobbling as you curled in on yourself. Luckily the hallway had been relatively empty, except for the odd student here and there, but that didn’t stop him from quickly walking to your side, crouching down to where you sat on the ground.

“Why are you crying?” he asked softly, instantly recognizing the out of focus look in your eyes, cursing himself for not noticing it before.

You sniffled, looking away from his face, “you’re mean.”

Draco let out a sigh, collecting the books around you and dumping them in his bag, “I know, darling… I know.”

The tears flowed freely down the apples of your cheeks, running down your neck wetting the top of your school shirt. Draco picked up your bag along with his own, hooking his hands under your arms to help you stand.

“Let’s go, love,” Draco said softly, snaking his hand around your waist to lead you toward the dungeon, to his dorm.

You pouted, but followed along with him, ignoring the weird stares you got from your fellow students.

“You’re so mean to me,” you whimpered meekly.

Draco squeezed your waist, holding in a chuckle, “I’m sorry…- but, darling, you’re just as mean.”

You gasped, tears welling up in your eyes once more, “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to.”

“No need for tears, princess.”

He shut the door to his dorm, leading you over to his bed, letting you sit before kneeling in front of you, using his thumb to wipe the tears from your cheeks.

“We’re always mean to each other… - it’s just for fun,” Draco explained, trying to ease your mind.

You shook your head, “no, I hate it when you’re mean to me…- I just wanna be good for you.”

“Oh, darling girl, you were so good for me,” Draco said, a sympathetic look on his face as he helped your stand.

“- let’s take a bath, yeah?”

You nodded, letting him lead you to the bathroom. You sat on the countertop in silence, watching as Draco filled the tub, putting expensive bath salts and soaps in the warm water.

He helped strip you of your clothing, touching you with gentle hands; his hands trailed up your sides, touching you as if you were made of glass, ready to shatter in his hands any second.

You let out a soft whine as you descended into the tub, the warm water scolding on your cold skin, “ow, too hot, daddy.”

“Shh, baby…- just gotta get used to it,” Draco shushed as he helped lower you until you were properly seated.

You sat silently as Draco washed your hair and body, making sure you were clean and taken care of. You could feel the staticky fuzz in your brain starting to clear, a warm feeling spreading through you as you watched Draco care for you. He went to fetch you a glass of water, making sure you finished the whole thing, smiling proudly as you did.

He stood with a towel open for you, wrapping it around your body, hugging you close. You shut your eyes, breathing in his scent, letting him dry and warm your body.

Draco led you back to his room, finding you a pair of his boxers and one of his t-shirts, dressing you carefully.

His hands cupped your face, forcing your gaze upon him. His eyes searched yours, looking for any sign that you were still out of it.

“You tired, baby?” he whispered.

You nodded the best you could with your face in his grasp. Draco hummed in acknowledgement, leading you to his bed, drawing the covers for him to get under, pulling you with him. He laid you almost completely on top of his chest, rubbing your back as he felt you relax against him.

“Thank you, Draco,” you whispered.

Draco chuckled lightly, “it’s no problem…- do you always get all fuzzy after sex?”

“I-I…- I wouldn’t know,” you mumbled.

Draco’s movements on your back stopped, his hand frozen in place as he processed your words. He could feel his heart cracking in his chest as he came to the realization; you let him use you, take you.

“What?” Draco asked lowly, using his free hand to angle your face up, forcing you to meet his eye.

“You… Uhm… today was m-my first time.”

The confirmation fully shattered his heart, his eyes softened, but he was lost for words, just staring at you in disbelief.

“It’s okay, Draco,” you reassured, but he shook his head.

“No, it’s not… I’m sorry, it’s not supposed to be like that… if I would’ve known I wouldn’t have done it like that… you- you deserve better than that… better than a filthy broom cupboard,” Draco stuttered, rambling and tripping over his words, guilt swimming in his gut.

You grasped his hand that held your cheek, giving it a small squeeze, “but at least it was you,” you smiled softly.

Draco’s heart melted, confused by your words, yet they made perfect sense.

“Darling girl,” he cooed, stroking your cheek softly as thoughts raced through his mind.

It looked like he was thinking things over, finally coming to a decision before leaning his head down to connect your lips, much to your surprise. You let out a sigh as you relaxed into the kiss; the kiss was soft and gentle, a stark contrast to the last time. Draco’s lips moved gently against yours, treating you with the utmost care. His tongue slid into your mouth, moving with yours softly. He grasped your waist to pull you fully on top of him to straddle his hips.

“Let me take care of you,” Draco whispered breathily against your lips.

“Okay,” you nodded, holding onto his shoulder as he held your hips.

He reconnected your lips, using his grip on your hips to help move you, grinding you against him. You let out a shaky breath into his mouth, a small whine tore from your throat as the friction cursed through your body.

“There we go, baby,” he praised, his grip tightening, moving you faster.

In one swift motion, he had flipped you around, laying on top of you between your legs, grinding his hips into yours.

Draco’s hands slid along your body, stopping at the hem of your t-shirt, sliding it off you with skilled hands.

The shirt slid off your figure and just a minute later his boxers you were wearing joined, strewn on the floor carelessly as Draco’s hands kept exploring every inch of your body. His touch left tingles in their wake and you couldn’t help the small whines that escaped your lips, desperate for him to touch you more, to feel you.

He took his time, kissing your face, your neck and down your body slowly, worshipping every inch of you.

You whined when he gently kissed the inside of your thighs, the anticipation built up in you and he smirked, his chest swelling with pride at the state of you.

“Just relax, sweetheart… gonna make you feel good,” he mumbled softly before he attached his mouth to your weeping cunt.

Your whole body twitched back arching and a long moan tore from deep within your chest. You curled your fingers into the green sheets that adorned Draco’s four-poster bed, his tongue lapping away, producing wet sounds echoing throughout the prefects' dorm.

“Mmm, Draco, feels so good,” you whimpered.

Draco kept his eyes on your face, enjoying the way your eyes shut in pleasure and your mouth stood slightly agape. He smirked as your hips started grinding against his mouth, the pleasurable peak building up in your abdomen.

“Tastes so good, sweetheart,” he replied, voice muffled by your cunt.

His fingers dug into your hips, caressing them with his thumps softly as he let you grind against him; your movements turned more frantic and less rhythmic the closer you came to your release.

You couldn’t have held back if you tried, Draco’s tongue on your clit was what pushed you over the edge. Your right hand gripped Draco’s, squeezing it as you came. He used his tongue to work you through your release, revelling in the way you tensed and your body shook from the stimulation.

Draco parted with your cunt, a smile on his face as he wiped the slick from his chin with his free hand, cleaning it off his fingers with a smack of his lips.

He crawled over you, moving your hand with his to lay beside your head, leaning down to peck your lips.

“Think you can take one more, princess?”

You nodded, using your free hand to caress his cheek, leaving a gentle smile on his face.

“Good girl,” he hummed.

He quickly kicked off his boxers, only disconnecting your hands for a moment to remove his shirt before it was interlaced with yours once more.

Before he prepared himself to push into you, he grabbed a pillow from the headboard, tapping your hips for you to lift, placing the pillow under you. He smiled a pleased smile, checking that you were comfortable before he gently ran his tip through your folds, using your arousal as lubrication.

You both let out simultaneous gasps as he pushed in, the pleasure much better than before, but a slight burn still lingered from the stretch. You whined at the intrusion, your eyes shutting.

“Hey hey, sweetheart, look at me… good job… kiss me,” Draco soothed, leaning down to connect your lips to distract you from the slight discomfort - something he wished he’d done before.

You squeezed his hand and whimpered into the kiss, letting the pain turn to pleasure as Draco bottomed out in you, stilling for you to adjust.

After your nod of consent, he began moving his hips, thrusting into you with care and determination.

“Pretty angel,” he whispered, face hovering above yours.

You only moaned softly in response, your brain shutting down, the only thing occupying your thoughts being the feel of Draco’s cock dragging against the walls of your cunt.

Draco’s pubic bone dragged against your already sensitive clit, leaving your brain numb with the pleasure from the overstimulation.

The level of your noises increased with every snap of his hips against yours and your eyes fluttered, yet you desperately tried to keep them open.

“You’re close, baby…- just let go, cum for me,” Draco spoke softly, squeezing your hand and leaning down to meet your lips in a loving kiss.

You tried reciprocating the kiss as best as you could, interrupted now and again by a moan. It only took a couple of more strokes for you to fall over the edge, your free hand reaching up to grasp Draco’s bicep; your nails dug into his flesh as your body tensed, squeezing around his cock.

“Fuck fuck fuck, Draco,” you moaned and whimpered, lips brushing against his.

Draco smiled, his thrusts faster, seconds away from reaching his peak, “gonna cum.”

You whimpered, squeezing Draco’s hand, “please, inside me… need it.”

Draco chuckled lowly, releasing a grunt as he reconnected your lips. You moaned, feeling warmth fill you, Draco’s hips stilled flush against yours. You could’ve cum again just listening to the deep moaning grunts he produced, his body close and connected with yours as if you would disappear if he didn’t stay close.

“I’m sorry,” he panted, voice just above a whisper.

You pecked his lips, moving your free hand up to caress his face, “it’s okay, Draco.”

He watched you, his face twisted as he was considering something, hesitating.

“You hate it when I’m mean to you?”

You were slightly taken aback by the question, his softening cock still inside you.

You nodded softly, “but it was the only way to get you to talk to me…- or notice me,” you blushed, embarrassed by your confession.

Draco’s face softened, even more, something unreadable flashing in his eyes, “pretty baby, that’s not true,” he cooed.

You smiled softly, “maybe we can talk about this when you’re not still inside me.”

Draco laughed, a genuine laugh, “of course, darling… let’s get you cleaned up.”

🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴

camera ࿐ james potter

pairing : shy james x cam gn reader

warnings : smut, d/s dynamics, sub james, dom reader, mommy kink, masturbation, mentions of riding, pet names

summary : shy jamie joins you <333

a/n : i hate this ahahaha

“show ‘em your pretty cock, baby” you encouraged softly as james looked up to the camera, red cheeks and shaky hands as he revealed his cock.

it was just as red as his cheeks, and james whimpered at the sight of it sitting tall and proud, on display for thousands of people. he loved it, but he felt a bit insecure too.

“hey, pretty boy” you called and his eyes shifted to yours, wide and pretty, “you’re so beautiful, okay? you’re doing so good” you caressed his thigh reassuringly.

james nodded with a gulp, still looking a bit unsure, but happy with your praise. “t-thank you, mommy.”

you hummed contently and licked your lips as you took a closer look at him. it obviously wasn’t your first time together, but he still managed to look more and more delicious every time. his weeping tip throbbed when you gripped the base of his cock, squeezing it not too hard.

“o-owie” he whimpered, biting his lip at the pathetic sound. “mommy... i need your mouth, please” he pouted up at you.

“uhm, i don’t know about that, baby” you seemed to be thinking aloud, “bet you’re gonna cum in a sec if i give you it.”

james whimpered at your teasing, brows furrowing as he struggled to keep his hips from bucking into your hand. “s just so sensitive” he whined, his thighs closing around your elbow, “j-just needa come. needa be a good boy and cum f’my mommy” babbled james, his eyes lovingly looking down at you — you sure were a sight for sore eyes, even when his mind was foggy.

giving in to him, you leaned in, taking the head of his cock into your mouth and suckling gently, your saliva and tongue cold in comparison with his hard cock. james shuddered at the feeling, throwing his head back.

you pinched his thigh as a way to make him look up again, “i’m- i’m so sorry, mommy! promise i’m sorry-” “shut up, jamie. don’t wanna hear your blabbers anymore. be good” you demanded and he obeyed immediately, eyes focused on the camera in front of him as his lips fell open.

you swirled your tongue over his tip once, twice, thrice just because you knew it would make him go insane, and then managed to take most of him down your throat, gagging slightly as you hollowed your cheeks around his throbbing cock.

“cum” he mewled, caressing your cheek as he squeezed his eyes shut. “m so close, mommy. please let me cum, please” his pathetic pleas rang in your ears, followed by his cries of pleasure, and not even caring what the audience had to say, you gave it to him.

your hands came up to play with his balls, rolling them in your hands, pulling gently and even squeezing them a bit as your mouth continued to take all of him.

james gripped the sheets in his large hands, tugging as if his life depended on it, and with a barely audible ‘go ahead, baby’ from you, his balls along with his cock started twitching, and you choked on thick ropes of cum.

he continued to cry out, but now even louder. “mommy!” he moaned loudly. strings of ‘mommy’ and ‘thank you’s spilled from his swollen lips as his body spasmed and jerked.

but that didn’t stop you. and instead, you swallowed his cum and hurried up on your feet, your legs straddling his hips in the blink of an eye.

when your cunt made contact with his overused cock, james completely lost it. “i-i came, mommy! i came, please- hurts so bad- want more.”

the incoherent words left his lips and you laughed almost maniacally, leaning forward so your face was closer to his. “ve turned you into my personal dumb little baby, hm?” you asked and he pouted, his bottom lip quivering, “but don’t worry, pretty boy. mommy will take care of you, okay?”

with a fervent nod, james kissed you deeply, breathily murmuring, “please ruin me, mommy.”

"My parents keep buying me all these queer stuff it's so embarrassed"

shut up just shut the fuck up man

FRIENDS WHO PLAY TOGETHER STAY TOGETHER ! ! — ARCANE

( tw ) f!reader. FF pairings. modern AU! masterbation. fingering. squirting. cunillings. dry humping. reader is kinda possessive in Vi’s. some yearning.

featuring. Violet, Caitlyn Kiramman & Mel Madarda

authors note. When you off that honey packet and ur home girl the only one in vicinity. Mel is so 🤭 I can’t she my type to a teeee. Anyways I’m about to go watch Act 2 WISH ME LUCK IM SCARED. Also idk how I feel about Kaits part I could do better 😔

VIOLET 

You and Vi were at another one of your friends' sleepovers. You didn't wanna come, you wanted to spend the Saturday just the two of you, alone. You hated sharing her attention, she was your best friend. You were each other's number one, why did you need other friends when you two were each other's everything. It was late now, almost everyone was sleeping or about to fall asleep when Vi crawled between the bodies of people to where you were laying. You didn’t notice until you felt the familiar embrace of her against your back. Despite yourself, you felt yourself relaxing against her body.  

“Are you still mad at me?” she whispered into your ear before placing a gentle kiss on your bare shoulder. “You know my favorite person. You have nothing to worry about.”  

“Yeah, whatever.” You grumbled. You weren't truly mad anymore but you knew what came next, what Vi did to reassure you that you were special to her. Her only best friend. You weren’t surprised when her hips rocked into your ass, when she pressed her tits against your back nor when her hand traveled underneath your oversized sleep shirt and cupped your breast. 

“Vi…” You sighed nuzzling into the arm underneath your head. She tightened her grip on your breast and rocked her hips into you. You push back harder and soon enough you guys find a rhythm. Your ass pushing down on her hips when she grinds up into you. Her callused palm grazes your nipple and you whine softly. She whimpers into your shoulder, finger going to your nipple when she pulls and twists. You wish her mouth was on you, you wish your mouth was on her. You turn your head to her “I love you the most. My favorite forever.”  

You feel her smile into your shoulder. “You're so beautiful, you know that?” translation: I love you too. 

MEL MEDARDA 

You couldn’t believe it. Your best friend’s tongue was inside of you. Licking you. Her lips were sucking on your clit, her teeth were biting your pussy lips. You could hear how wet you were—you could feel yourself leaking all over her face. “Mel!” You scream out into the dark room before slamming your hands over your own mouth. You don’t want anyone to see you—you don’t want her mother to see you, what a scene she would make. Seeing her daughter nose deep into her childhood best friend. Mel pulls her mouth off your clit with an embarrassingly loud pop. “Do you feel that? This is how you’re supposed to eat pussy darling.” She smiles when you just nod. Afraid that if you remove your hands from your mouth, you might confess something you don’t want.  

Plus, this was just a favor, strictly platonic, you were just friends. That’s why she was eating you out in the first place—you wanted to finally dip your toe into the dating scene but you were scared because you were inexperienced, you didn’t wanna leave your future partners disappointed in your nonexistence skills. And that’s where your best friend came in. Where you didn’t know anything about sex, she knew what felt like everything. Though you never saw her with anyone, she talked like she knew the ins and outs of men and women and she offered to teach you.  

“Now after you use your mouth and get them wet you wanna bring in your fingers, like this.” Mel grabs one of your thighs and pushes it down, giving her a better view of your dripping pussy before using her free hand and pushing a slender finger into you. You gasp. “I know you’ve fingered yourself before sweets, how many fingers have you shoved into this pretty pussy?” 

You whimper, hesitantly removing your hands. “T-two Melly.” You answer bashfully, using the nickname you gave her when you were children. She hums and adds another. You bite your lip, lower abdomen clenching when she curls them into your spongy g-spot. 

“Now pay attention to me alright?” She leans down to place a kiss on your pubs, leaving a trail of light kisses until she reaches your clit. She moves her hand out of you and a fast pace, fingers curling when she knuckles deep. You moan at the feeling of her hand pounding into you.  

She gives your clit a few kitten lips before wrapping her full lips around the swollen area. She bits hard enough for you to wince before she starts sucking. You feel yourself coming apart on her face before you can stop yourself. She hurriedly removes her fingers, mouth sucking you even harder when you feel liquid gush out of you. You grab the back of her head and scream. You can’t stop it, you don’t want to. You throw your thigh over her head and curl your foot into her back, still riding the high. When your pussy stops shooting the mysterious liquid out Mel’s fingers find themselves back inside, four this time. 

You feel tears collecting in the corner of your eyes, as she finger-fucks you. Mel pops back off your abused clit to whisper praises, good girl, you're doing so good, look at how well you take me, you feel heavenly, and when she goes back to playing with your clit you know you don’t want anyone to fuck you unless it’s her. Maybe you can ask her to teach you how to give hickeys next. 

CAITYLYN KIRAMMAN 

You were horny. Cait was horny. You both kept glancing at each other when you thought the other wasn’t looking, sussing out what the other was thinking. The movie you guys were watching was a rating away from being straight porn. When it was over you, both decided to call it a night. It was late she said. You guys had class tomorrow you said. When the lights turned off, you both said goodnight and laid down in your shared bed. You two were so close and loved being near each other that on the first day of the semester you pushed your twin beds together. Oh, how you were regretting that idea now. All you wanted to do was fuck yourself. You knew you weren’t going to fall asleep without an orgasm and so after twenty minutes when you thought Cait was asleep, you found your hand traveling into your boy shorts. You sighed in relief when your fingers grazed your throbbing clit. You rubbed it for a few seconds before shoving two fingers into yourself. 

That relief was short-lived when you heard a breathy moan that didn’t come from you. You tensed up and stopped. When you didn't hear anything—maybe she was making those noise in her sleep—you slowly started to move your fingers in and out, palm rubbing against your clit. You bite your lip to stifle a moan and turn onto your back. You could barely move your fingers in and out lying on your side. You part your legs and moan when you finally hit your G-spot. You're so horny but your imagination isn't cutting it. Opening your eyes you turn your head to find the outline of your best friend who was the star in some of your fantasies, her hourglass figure would for sure spark a fantasy. When your eyes adjust to the dark you're shocked to see Cait staring back at you, her blanket pooling at her hips when you could see her hand abruptly stop moving. Your Cait was masturbating too, in the same bed as you. A grin spreads along your face. 

“I-I’m not—”  

“I am.” You whisper, pushing your blanket off you. Her eyes immediately latch onto where your fingers are slowly pushing in and out. Your other hand comes up to your tank top where you push your shirt down. Your breasts spill out. Cait’s face turns into a tomato, eyes widening even more than they already are. She doesn't remove her gaze from your breasts when she starts fingering herself again. You watch her mouth part into a small O and her eyes roll to the back of her head. You imagine what she looks like riding your face and start to speed up. Your other hand twisting your nipples.  

“I-m gonna..” Cait whimper and spasms for a few seconds. You moan at the look on her face, so pleased with herself, and soon enough you're squeezing your eyes and coming too.  

keep your eyes on me

joel miller x f!reader

warnings: ANGST, stab wound, mentions of violence and blood, lots of violence actually, protective!joel, reader being moody and angsty, some gore (wound details), inaccurate stuff probably (definitely), inconsistencies for sure

word count: 6.63k UNEDITED

here’s the full version of ‘keep your eyes on me.’ i apologize in advance for the reader’s moody and angsty monologue in the intro and all that follows after. prepare the tissues?

The mission was simple.

A quick in and out, a regular check for supplies in one of the surrounding buildings of the QZ and that was it. Nothing you hadn’t done countless times already, even before Joel entered your life, and it was relatively easy.

The hardest part was sneaking past the supervised borders and even that had been figured out when you started paying one of the guards to turn a blind eye whenever you went out for a run.

It just so happened that this run had to occur in the smack-dab middle of a feud you’d found yourself in simply because you associated yourself with Joel Miller and Tess Servopoulos. 

It didn’t help that Joel, in particular, rarely associated himself with anyone at all. Perhaps that’s what made you a prime target in his dispute with his former partner Robert Navarro. 

Because Joel went out of his way to join your side more often than either of you cared to admit, it made sense that, in turn, Robert’s fury would extend to you. 

Keep reading

We're all adults here - Steve Rogers

Summary: Reader covers up when training outside with the team because someone just happened to cover her in hickies the night before. But what happens when reader is forced to take her cover-up off? 0.6k+ wc

Going outside in the summer heat to practice with the team was not what you had in mind, especially when the modern indoor training facilities were all available, with a track just as big, and more importantly, air conditioning that worked perfectly well. Normally, you wouldn't have a problem with it, putting on shorts and a sports bra before joining Natasha outside, but usually, your boyfriend didn't go so crazy in bed the night before. Steve, ever so worked up after not seeing you for a few days while on a mission, had come home, making a beeline to your room where he finally pushed you up against the wall, pressing kisses on every inch of your skin before taking you on every piece of furniture he could find.

You felt Steve's guilty gaze on you the second you met with the rest of the team outside, clad in a thin sports jacket and shorts. At least you looked cute, despite how quickly you were going to overheat. "Oh you're crazy crazy." Comments Natasha the instance she sees you, beginning her warmup around the track. You quickly join her, rolling your eyes playfully at her, though it's hard to ignore the way you immediately feel the way the long sleeves are clinging onto your skin the second you start to perspire.

By the end of your laps on the track, your face is all red and you need to lean on your knees to catch your breath, panting heavily. You didn't think one little piece of clothing would have such an effect on your performance, but apparently it did, making you fan your hands in front of your face in hopes of helping with the heat. "Y/n just take it off, what's going on?" Remarks Clint bemusedly. "Yeah we all know it's too hot for this kind of clothing. Is there a particular reason you're so dressed up?" You put your hands on your hips, chest heaving up and down as you digest Bucky's question. You shake your head, gratefully accepting the cool bottle of water your boyfriend offers you, a guilty grimace on his face.

Steve's cheeks are flushed pink, and whether that's due to the warmup or how close you guys are to being found out, he doesn't know. The team have known about the two of you before you even knew, clueless about the other's feelings, but Steve, being the old soul that he is, prefers to keep details about your sex life private when possible. "Does Mr. Loverboy have anything to do with this?" Teases Tony, only half-joking, hints of a smile on his face. You scoff, which immediately has your teammates looking at you quizzically. Did Mr. Loverboy have anything to do with it? "Okay Y/N, on a serious note, you're going to overheat training in that." Tony adds, his eyebrows furrowing. "Look, we're all adults here." You defend, spinning away from your team as your hand hesitantly reaches up to drag the zipper of your jacket down your torso. When you turn back around, the rest of your team is still staring expectantly at you, leaving you to watch as their reactions form on their faces.

"Holy shit!" Clint exclaims, words drowned by the loud wolf-whistles Natasha sends you way, eyes glued to your chest. "Okay, stop looking!" You scold her, and Bucky immediately looks away from you even though the words aren't directed at him, slapping a hand on the back of Steve's shoulder in pride. The dark hickies are scattered all around your chest and neck, dipping under your sports bra, leaving the rest for imagination. You chuckle uncomfortably, tightening your ponytail "Wild night, am I right?" You hear Steve choke over his drink before you see it, spinning around to take a look at his red face, water dribbling down his chin and onto his tight shirt as he catches his breath. "Sorry sweetheart." You mutter, taking a step towards him so you can press a kiss on his cheek, his hand instinctively coming up to rest on your waist.

"Why are you apologising to him? Look at yourself!"

a taste of honey || natasha romanov

summary: your intended date isn’t the one who’s actually sitting across from you. or gifting you a bottle of wine while eye fucking you.

words: 5.5k

pairing: ceo!natasha x ceo!fem!woc!readerthemes/ warnings: smut of the gay variety, finger fucking, getting ate out in a fancy bathroom, nipple play, pet name kink in russian (kitten, my love), pet name kink in english (honey, bunny, kitten), blink and you’ll miss it pain kink, allusions to dom/sub relationship, a misogynist WASP-y asshole named John (yeahhhhh, lol, that John), mentions of biphobia/homophobia, mentions of arranged marriages, reader’s mom is like Mr. Bennett from P&P.

note: a repost from my old account. thank you v v much to @cap-n-stuff for making this mood board the first time around and letting me carry it over here.

Not for the first time that night, you reluctantly tear your eyes away from the alluring red headed woman that was sitting at the bar and at your phone again to check the time. 

9 pm. 

It had already been an entire hour that you’ve reluctantly decided to stay for a date you reluctantly agreed to even more. When you weren’t too busy essentially eye fucking the red headed woman that kept sending smiles your way, you were checking your phone to see if the son of your mother’s work friend had even bothered to send a smoke signal of any kind. 

Both of your mothers were really adamant (well, his more than yours, because even your own mother had her limits) about you going on this already disastrous date. It was something you had successfully avoided for months, until your mother had bamboozled you into the other night over Sunday dinner. 

It was to be beneficial for everyone’s sake, especially for both families considering how well off everyone involved was. But you didn’t give a shit about doing things for other people’s benefit. You weren’t interested in becoming someone’s trophy wife, and you definitely already had a very successful business of your own to tend to. 

Please do me this favor, little bird. You could practically hear your mother’s voice right in your ear as you sipped on another glass of finely aged Bordeaux, glancing at the mysterious woman yet again. As you swallow the carefully savored wine, you tilt your glass over to her in thanks before checking your phone for the umpteenth time in that moment. 

You sigh, clearly annoyed that the guy hadn’t considered that your own time was equally as valuable. 

“Sorry I’m late.” 

The sudden intrusion shakes your attention, making you grimace. The guy removes his jacket and shakes it slightly, making a few raindrops fall into the half eaten bread basket, making you grimace.

Though the contents were no longer as warm as your initial outlook on this date, you had been planning on at least having one thing to eat for coming all the way out here. 

“I’m John.” He’s already a little too posh for your liking. From his borderline condescending tone down to the way he extends a hand for you to shake (or kiss like he was some sort of mafia don, if you had to take a guess)--he’s rubbing you in all sorts of wrong ways. He looks like he stepped right out of a Men’s Health magazine--the epitome of picture perfect to most conventional people.

But you weren’t conventional, and you weren’t interested in picture perfect. 

It takes a Herculean effort not to roll your eyes as you shake his hand in an impersonal way, also introducing yourself, before settling back in the respective seats again. You make a mental note about thoroughly washing your hands if you ever managed to make a clean break for the bathroom. 

John hadn’t really done much of anything with a lot of effort. But you figured that was his thing--doing not a whole lot while blowing the effort out of proportion when it seemed most convenient to him. He hadn’t even bothered to ask if you had arrived to the date well, or if you had even looked forward to this inconvenience at all. 

He was on just this side of icy with the waiter, all but shooing him off with his drink order. But most of all, he had interrupted the intense eye fucking that had been going on between you and the ridiculously attractive lady at the bar, currently surrounded by the menagerie of her friends. 

You’re hoping he doesn’t mistake the shiver and flush you’re suddenly overcome with as something of his doing. 

“I see you already helped yourself.” He says, eyeing the open bottle of Saint-Emilion that was already half empty along with the bread basket, “I hope you’re not too expensive down the line.”

Leaning back in your seat as you take another sip of wine, you glance over at your not so secretive admirer. Unlike you, it looks like she’s clearly enjoying herself with the company she has, an arm draped around one of them in what was hopefully a friendly way.. Part of you wishes that it had been her instead of John sitting in front of you. Lord only knows how much you would’ve enjoyed yourself more with her. 

“Are you normally this quiet, or do you just save it for the bedroom?” 

Turning back to your intended company of the evening, you couldn’t stifle the budding frustration in your stomach at John’s question. It was like no part of him was redeemable the longer you sat in his presence: misogynistic, condescending, and much too aloof for someone who’s probably had the silver spoon up his ass since the umbilical cord formed. 

It’s also as if he’s been scrutinizing you the entire night. He’s got too much of an eagle eye on the way you hold your fork. The way you chew and wipe your lips with the cloth napkin. You can’t really get a word in while he’s talking about mostly himself and what he does at his family’s company. But it’s not like you’re really all that interested in having any sort of conversation with him anyway. 

That’s why you feel no remorse when your gaze flitters back to the redhead again. 

The weight of her stare doesn’t pass you by entirely. Another glance proves your guess correct, making you smirk a little. You tear your eyes away knowing you were looking a little too long, struggling to stifle a laugh when you look at the quizzical expression on John’s face. 

The date clearly wasn’t between you and John anymore. It hadn’t been for the perpetual drone of his stuffy drawl, and the fact that he hadn’t realized it clearly amused you most of all. 

It was clear that the not so foreign stranger was still interested in you by the way your skin prickled in goosebumps. It was also clear that in all his talking, John hadn’t even bothered to compliment your dress. For all you knew, it could’ve been too inappropriate for his tastes. 

Fuck this guy, you thought. He clearly didn’t have any good tastes in clothes to even compliment you. He could fucking choke on his own self importance for all you cared. 

Seeing as one out of the two of them seemed to genuinely enjoy your outfit, you figured it would be a shame to let your dress go to waste. You had put in great effort, as you do with most things in your life, and you were determined to get your much deserved validation from someone who’d truly appreciate it, and you. 

You lean forward to rest your elbows on the table, resting your chin on top of your laced fingers to try and fight the urge to keep the slit of your dress revealing any more of your leg. You subtly cross one over the other, clenching your legs slightly, pushing your cleavage out a little to give a lovely view. Clearly none of it was for John’s enjoyment in any kind of way. 

By some miracle, the message you were trying to send reached its intended recipient. 

“Someone you know?” He asks, finally looking at you fully for the first time that night. 

“Hm?” You cooly glance at your intended participant in this date, awful at hiding the sparkling interest in your eyes. “Oh, not at all.” 

Not yet, at least.

You always were an awful liar.

For the first time that night, John gives you a semblance of an unrehearsed smile. He waits for you to elaborate, giving you time to sip and appreciate the wine you were gifted. 

“I suppose it’s not too ridiculous to owe our admirer a thank you,” he adds after a poignant, uncomfortable silence. He was clearly feeling ignored, having trouble getting you to look at him longer than he liked you too. 

“You mean my admirer.” You correct a little too quickly for his liking. 

“I’m sorry?” He raises a brow, his expression matching the incredulous tone. 

“You were late to this dinner by more than an hour, nowhere to be found. Didn’t even send so much as a courtesy text, so you could’ve stood me up for all I’ve cared.” The words came out a little more vehemently that you meant them too, but if he noticed it would be news to you. “So she is my admirer” 

It doesn’t take anyone with half a brain cell to figure out what someone like John would react like when hearing that his “competition” was another woman. Someone as smug as he is, you can only brace yourself for the incredibly disgusting response you’ve received a million times before. 

“Oh, then I have nothing to worry about.” John waves his hand as if to shoo away some superfluous thing flying around, laughing easily. 

The very phrase itself makes you chortle loud enough to make him look at you weirdly again. Knowing that he was waiting for you to clarify yourself once more, you sigh and roll your eyes. 

“I’m bisexual, John.” 

“Oh!” he pipes up, eyes shining bright like he found some new toy to play with. Once again you feel your stomach roiling at the idea that was cooking up in his gelled up head. “So that means you--” 

“Yes.” 

“Would you be--” 

“Absolutely fucking not.” You snap immediately, cutting off whatever fuckery he was already forming up in his brain. 

Whether it was a request for a threesome or a request for you to not be…”obvious” (whatever the fuck that meant), you weren’t going to put up with it. You never had to, and you weren’t about to start tonight.  Especially not from another guy who couldn’t even keep dinner appointments the least bit interested in what he had to say. 

John doesn’t get much of a chance to say anything, jumping a little when you toss the cloth napkin a little too hard on the table. You didn’t give a fuck if it knocked anything over, you were sure he could afford it. He could complain about it to both of your mothers too, for all you fucking cared. 

Snatching your clutch bag, you give him a murderous glare before shoving the chair back and making your way to the ladie’s room to cool off. Under any other circumstance, maybe one where you didn’t have any semblance of sanity or taste in actual human beings, you might’ve entertained your mother’s idea of becoming someone’s trophy wife. 

You knew you’d get yelled at for ditching him with a mouth gaping like a fish struggling for air, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to give a fuck about it or him. 

It’s not like you’re against the idea of threesomes, or inexperienced with them by any stretch of the imagination. But you just didn’t like it when men did this shit to you, or when women declared you gay by virtue of being with them. You knew exactly who you were, and you weren’t ever going to entertain anyone’s bullshit.

You’re determined not to have your resolve whittle away when you see that you have to pass by the enticing burgundy haired stranger to get to the women’s bathroom. She’s probably not paying attention to you anymore, but it doesn’t make the feeling in your stomach any less floppy. 

You try to keep the knowing smirk at a minimum as you pass her by, squaring your shoulders and swaying your hips confidently as you pass her by, muttering a small “excuse me” to avoid bumping into another patron. You don’t see her green eyes following you, but you can sure feel them on your back. 

Even if you never spoke tonight, she’d supplied you with plenty to fantasize about later over more wine and a nice, hot bath. Cliché, yeah, but you couldn’t help it. 

Barreling into the surprisingly empty bathroom, you let the door slam in on itself as you let out a deep breath. You set your clutch down on the marbled countertop, turning the knob for the cold water to dip your hands into, and cool yourself--and the rage you were feeling, off. 

You wondered about the mysterious woman back at the bar, and how she seemed to be having a genuinely fun time with what seemed like the rest of her friends. You figured you could probably scrawl your number on one of the thick, fancy gold embossed napkins--maybe pass it off to a waiter to give to her if you wanted to be mysterious about it all. 

You’d make your way back home while it was all happening. Maybe start a nice warm bath that you were pondering earlier, with even more wine while spending some quality time with the plug and the vibrator; thinking about the woman that had already enraptured you so easily while you dragged out your own climax and pretending your fingers were here own, fantasizing about her voice. 

Blinking at your reflection in the massive and well lit mirror, you pondered at the kind of compliment the woman would tell you. But you let out a hum of disappointment, knowing that the interaction the two of you had back outside was just a one off thing, a fantasy never to actually be acted upon. 

You shrug, figuring you could at least take a decent selfie of yourself before making your way out the back. You adjust the imaginary wrinkles in your Dior dress, letting your hands linger on your waist for a moment before they travel up to your chest.Taking advantage of an empty bathroom, you shamelessly adjust your plush breasts. You let your palms linger, gently squeezing and caressing, once again wondering what it’d feel like to have her hands on your body instead of your own. 

The door suddenly swings open, startling you out of your intimate hype session. But you’re too surprised to even let go of your own breasts, your brain trying to decide on what to do or what excuse to come up with. 

Natasha’s sparkling hazel-green eyes hold your eye contact in the mirror, letting the door shut behind her. 

“Hi there.” She all but coos, voice as smoky and husky as the mezcal she had been drinking earlier. She hums in approval as she looks, her glossy lips curling into a smirk when her gaze travels from your face down to your breasts. You can’t help the way they harden beneath her stare, nor the heat and the slick blooming between your legs. 

She’s only said two words to you, and she already has you feeling a lustful weakness in her presence. 

You let out something of an embarrassed whine, your agape mouth snapping shut in shame. Natasha saunters over to you while keeping eye contact, reaching over to turn off the faucet that was still trickling. 

“I’m Natasha.” She says in lieu of a hello, resting her hip against the marble counter, angling her body towards your own as she tucked her hair behind her ear. 

Your breath hitches, hands slowly coming back down to your sides as you imagine running your fingers across the smooth skin of her neck. 

You swallow hard, almost struggling to say your own name. “Hi, Natasha.” 

Fuck, you wanted to absolutely melt beneath her with the way she was looking at you like you were her dinner. You’re certain that the lascivious enthusiasm in her eyes is something that must’ve come naturally to her. 

“Did you like the wine?” Natasha asks, as if she was asking a lover if they liked what she was doing to them in bed. She’s so close to you, standing just there, but she doesn’t do anything. She only looks, waiting for your next move. 

“You have fine taste.” You said, nervously wiping your palms on your dress. It takes you a second to catch onto the innuendo of your words, and you’re flushing all over when you realize what you said as Natasha bursts out a beautiful, melodic laugh. 

“I-I meant the wine…” You huff out, feeling quite embarrassed of your inability to keep a coherent sentence formed around someone attractive. 

You were never usually like this around people, especially men. But then again, you had been ensconced in work for so long to even bother going on a date for who knows how long. Natasha was the first woman you had been this close to in such a long time, you’d be surprised if you hadn’t turned into a puddle of mush already. 

Natasha licks her lips, and your eyes can’t help but focus on the burgundy colored gloss that left behind a nice stain. It looks just as inviting and tantalizing and sweet as the bottle of Bordeaux she had sent over to your table, that had now long been abandoned along with your tragically awful date. 

She catches on to you glancing at the clock above the door, because the next thing she asks you is how much time you’ve got left until you have to go back. She could tell you were trying to plan your escape, even if it meant walking out of the front door and pretending like you couldn’t see him at all. 

You swallow again as you feel your pulse quicken, angling your neck to rid yourself of the discomfort. You wondered if you could get Natasha to come home with you, or if you could get her to take you home with her. The low huskiness of Natasha’s voice and the sparkle of mischief in her eyes reel you in even more, and you knew then that you were a goner. 

“Honestly? I don’t give a fuck.” 

Natasha’s eyes widened slightly at your frankness for the first time that night. For a moment you wonder if you fucked up, if you came onto her too strong or too desperately. 

But you’re not left wondering about her intentions with you for much longer at all. 

It all happens too fast and too slow at the same time. In a single moment, your feet, ensconced in matching Dior heels, are still on the floor as Natasha backs you up further and further until your lower back is pressing into the edge of the counter.

Her soft, perfectly manicured hands roam your torso until she keeps one on your waist while the other one reaches up to softly cradle your jaw, thumb softly tracing your full lips--as if asking for your consent before she proceeds to do anything to you, with you. 

You release another whine, unable to hide the way you squeeze your thighs together to keep your slick from escaping the confines of your body and your underwear any more than you could help. Natasha keeps your eye contact, humming softly when she feels your lips kiss the pad of her thumb just so before wrapping your lips around it and taking it into your mouth a little, experimenting with how far you could go. 

As much as Natasha liked the feeling of your tongue around her fingers and how much it made her think what other parts of her could get your lips on and around, she was desperate to kiss you. She slots her lips across your own, hands cradling your head to kiss you more, deeper.

The kiss is all kinds of messy and desperate, hot breaths and moans and please 's and oh fuck 's escaping both of you as hips grind into each other. Your hands finally touch her, roaming everywhere to be able to feel everything, until they reach her chest, slightly smaller but no less plentiful. You knead them softly, thumbs running over her nipples, experimenting with just how much she liked, earning a shaky moan out of her that you swallow in the kiss. 

“Can I--” Her words are slightly shaky as you knead her breasts again, a little more firmly this time, as she rucks up the skirt of your dress. 

“I will literally cry if you don’t.” 

Natasha beams, “Oh. You’ll see.” As much as she loved the way you played with her breasts, she was eager to make you see stars now that she had your attention. 

“Up.” She commands, nearly making you come right there and then with the authoritative tone of her voice, “I want to see just how fine my taste is.” 

You’re able to steal one more kiss from Natasha before she growls, making you quickly place your hands on the counter for support as you hop up with some help from her. You let out a small squeal at the feel of the cool marble on your bare ass, giggling when you see her shake her head. 

Natasha gently quiets you with a small squeeze to your lush hips, nudging her nose with yours. 

“You trust me?” She asks, hands fiddling with the straps of your lacy thong, “Because I’ve got you.” 

You dig your teeth into your lips, nodding desperately. A shaky moan escapes you as she unzips your dress slightly so she can pull it down, revealing your bare chest to her. 

“Naughty girl.” She coos, eyeing the nipple piercings adorning your chest. A delicate, red gem adorning each end of the metal studs. Natasha bends down as she pulls the top of your dress down, practically unwrapping you like a gift, and takes a nipple into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it as if savoring a fine ice cream. 

You hiss at the arousal that sizzles through your body, nearly already lost in the heat of it all until you remember an important detail.

“W-wait, Natasha--” 

Natasha instantly stops, thinking she did something wrong. 

“The door..” You gasp out, “Someone will--” 

That predatory smile that had you melting returns to her face. “Maybe they will. I can lock it, if you want.” Natasha’s fingers dance across your waist, toying with the fabric of your dress as she pushes it further up slowly.

“But isn’t it more exciting, knowing that anyone, even that asshole date of yours, could walk in here while I’m eating you out, my tongue deep in your cunt?” 

Natasha’s words nearly have your eyes rolling to the back of your head, pulse fluttering as much as your lashes. 

Eyes, and lips, meet again. Crashing messily and consuming each other with determination. Natasha searches every inch of your soft, lightly cocoa lotion scented skin. Her lips and teeth latch onto whatever part of you will make you shudder and melt underneath her touch. Your fingers hook themselves together behind her neck while she practically unwraps your dress from your body like a gift, letting it pool and gather around your waist. 

At this point, your outfit stops resembling a dress entirely--tucked up above the swell of your ass and completely exposing almost your whole body to her. The cool air of the bathroom pebbles your nipples, both of which Natasha plays with teasingly, mouth and hand switching breasts. The metal of your piercings amplifies the feeling electrifying your veins, making you eager for more with each lick and nip. 

“You’re not playing fair…” You whine, throwing your head back as your knuckles strain with your tightening hold of the counter’s edge. 

Natasha draws her lips away with a soft pop, kissing the swell of your breast, then your sternum until the ephemeral kisses reach right below your ear. “I’m not really one to follow the rules. But I like making an art out of breaking them.” 

“You’re also wearing too much.” You groan, pouting when Natasha tuts at your grabby hands. 

“I’ll make it up to you later, Китти.” She murmurs, loving how you wiggle underneath her touch as she slides the thong over your soft things and further down your legs until she can actually take them off and pocket them in her pants. Her hands are on your knees again, massaging them softly. “Spread your legs for me nice and wide, baby.” 

The praises were already doing you in, doing wonderful things to the arousal crackling like electricity throughout your body. Your stomach swoops and flutters when Natasha glides down to her knees without any hesitation, determined to make you see stars. 

You moan softly, head lolling to the side against the mirror, nibbling on your bottom lip  as you eagerly spread yourself open for her. 

“That’s it, honey.” She coos, rubbing your legs encouragingly before sliding your legs over her shoulders. Her warm breath on your center practically has you shuddering.

She makes a whole show of it: sucking and licking her fingers to lubricate them with enough spit. Both of you were sure you were pretty wet as it is, but Natasha enjoys making a whole thing of the pleasure she wants to give you. And you enjoyed the pretty show she was giving you. 

“Relax for me, bunny.” She says in between soft kisses on your inner thighs, “We’re both going to enjoy the hell out of this.” 

You whine even more when Natasha softly blows some air over your center, teasing you just over your slit by kissing you everywhere but directly where you want. She looks up at you, enjoying the way she watches you squirm, desperate for her to fuck you. 

“Please, ‘tasha…” You whine, “Want it, want you.” 

Natasha finally decides to indulge you, and herself. Holding on to your legs that were over her shoulders, she opens you a little wider and makes sure you’re not going anywhere before she digs in. Her tongue softly laps at your folds to spread the arousal. She hums at the taste of you, the sounds vibrating against you. 

Natasha is absolutely driving you insane with need, each soft kiss and lick stoking the fire hotter. She explores your cunt like she did the rest of you, tongue lapping at you from your hole to your clit until she pushes her face in, determined to make good on her promise to make you cry. 

When you feel her slide in a finger, then another in, you slap a hand against the marble counter, squealing when she begins to curl her fingers in the way she could tell you liked. Just like with your nipples, she takes your clit into her lips, softly rolling it with her tongue while her fingers play you like a game she’s played thousands of times before. 

Your hips start to squeeze her head, making Natasha hum loudly against your clit. The sensation gets you to start rolling your hips, wanting her fingers to go in as deep as they could. Natasha learns fast, loving the way you preen at the way she touches that spot that has you melting and your mouth dropping open. She slides in a third finger, and you moan at how full you feel. You let out the most embarrassing noises, sobbing at how very little effort it takes Natasha to get you to the precipice of your orgasm. Sagging breaths leave your lungs when you feel her fingers come to a still. 

“Shhh, baby, keep quiet for me.” She digs her free fingers into your thigh when you try to move and seek more pleasure. “You don’t want anyone checking in on us because of the noise and walking in, do you?” She moans when she feels your velvety walls clench around her fingers, letting her feel just how wet she was making you. “Oh, you like it when people watch,” —tsk-tsk— “naughty girl.” 

“Maybe next time we can get someone to join, huh? Would you like that, kitten? Have someone watch us while I ruin your pussy with a toy?” 

“I-I..Nat..” Your body starts to shake, hips meeting the thrusts of her fingers. You prop your leg up on her shoulder, keening at the groan she releases when she feels your heel dig into her slightly. “Please, I want it. I’m gonna--’mgonna cum soon. Fuck. I wanna cum so bad, please.” —”You wanna cum, baby? Wanna make a mess all over me?” — “Pleasepleaseplease.” — “That’s my girl, there you go. You’re doing so good for me, honey.” 

You thread your fingers through Natasha’s hair, tugging at her roots the more your orgasm builds and builds inside of you. You think you’re being too rough on her, but you’re proven wrong by the way Natasha groans at the pull of her hair in pleasure the more she eats you out like a woman starved. It makes her actions on you grow more enthusiastic than before. 

That familiar flutter in the pit of your belly comes alive again when Natasha keeps her fingers in you, rolling her tongue harder against your clit, curling her knuckles deeper in your weeping slit as the tips of her fingers toy with the spongy spot inside of you. 

“Fuck, that’s it…’m so close.” You moan, “s’little more…” 

A loud, sharp knock rattles the door and you gasp, sweaty body trembling as your shocking climax leaves you boneless and breathless. You groan loudly, feeling yourself make a mess all over the counter and on Natasha’s face. You bite your lip harshly to try and muffle the moans the best you can, even if it meant tasting copper on your tongue. 

Natasha is careful to slow down her movements, cooing to you about how good of a job you did making a mess all over her as you tremble and come down from your high. 

The voices from behind the door grow more desperate and instant. You start to scramble to get your dress back on you, but Natasha is already on it, helping you zip up. She pulls away after kissing your forehead to bark orders at the people behind the door, “Give us a damn minute! Dealing with some issues if you couldn’t tell!” 

Leaning into Natasha’s arms as she rubs your back while zipping up your dress, you chortle into her shoulder.

Natasha listens for a few more moments, making sure the footsteps faded away for sure before getting her attention back onto you. She hums softly, small smile on her lips when she sees the dopey, soft look on your face as you practically curl yourself into her embrace. 

“How do you feel?” She asks, cradling your face after tossing the napkin used to clean your smudged makeup into the bin. “You okay?”  

“Mm,” you purr, closing your eyes for a moment as you appreciate the feel of her caressing your face, “I just need a moment.” 

“Been a long time?” Natasha jokes, chuckling when she sees you nod bashfully. 

Despite regaining the feeling back in your legs, you’re feeling much too self indulgent to even think of forcing yourself out of Natasha’s arms. It wasn’t like she was forcing you to get off her either, so the both of you indulge yourselves in a close embrace, soft coos and whispers in between short kisses and giggles.

You can’t help yourself but shiver at the way Natasha licks the remainder of your climax from the corner of her lips, so you try to regain some composure by holding her hand after hopping down from the counter. 

“When can I return the favor?” You ask her, glancing at yourself in the mirror to make sure you looked the most presentable as you could. 

“Is this your way of trying to get my number?” She teases, squeezing your hand before cleaning up herself. 

Your cheeks heat up again, using your tongue to soothe your swollen lips. “I was actually hoping you’d wanna come home to mine, or uh..me to yours. Whatever works.” 

One step, then another, and Natasha is in front of you again. There’s something about the way she towers over you despite being almost the same height as her that has you feeling small, protected by her enough to be able to let your guard down. 

“I like it when you’re bold.” She says in a hushed tone, holding your chin with her thumb and forefinger. Natasha’s always been used to the women that are much too shy for her own liking. She can see that you're someone to be discovered.

“Not as bold as fucking someone else’s date on the bathroom counter.” Already, you were thinking about taking her thumb into your mouth again. 

“Touché. But you’re going to break that guy’s heart, you leaving with me.” 

You roll your eyes, “It was an arranged date. We only met an hour ago.” 

“So did we.” 

“So what if we did?” You ask, holding her wrist as she cradles your jaw, kissing the pad of her thumb softly. “You ditched your friends too.” 

“That I did.” She conceded. 

“Then, I’d like to find out what you’d be like on a proper date, Natasha.” You say, before sticking close to her as you two weasel your way out of the restaurant. 

“I think I’d like to find out too, моя любовь.” She agrees, arm around you as she unashamedly rests her hand on your butt.

Loyalty and Love // Leah Williamson

warnings: dead family member

Leah was a gooner through and through, never been seen in a different club jersey than the arsenals as she was arsenals biggest fan.

She went through all the youth team stages until she reached the senior team. Her body was full of loyalty to the club while your career path was very different - something Leah did not like about you.

Your career started at your hometown club near Bavaria, Germany, until FC Bayern München became aware of you. You were the only girl in the league and still scored the most goals. So to be fair, your actual club career started at the FC Bayern academy. You started there at the age of 10 and played there until the age of 16.

At 16 years old, you said good bye to Germany and played for Ajax in the Netherlands. You played two years for them and enjoyed every second with the Ajax family, yet after those two years, you transferred to AS Roma. You had many transfer offers, inside the league and outside of it but even though, you had transferred a few times already, you had one rule: never play in the same league with a different club. Roma sent you on loan to Olympique Lyon where you won the champions league and the league, each time as a key player of the team. OL offered you a real contract which you gladly signed - winning the treble. After three years in France, where you had learned a lot technical stuff but also had developed further as a person, it was time for a new challenge. A new club and country.

Spain was calling, FC Barcelona to be exact. After a teary good bye, you left for good - it was time to shine at Barcelona.

Your talent was magical, you could score from every angle, no matter the position and the fans loved you.

You had been nominated for numerous awards, won many of them yet still you were the kindest person. You always made time for the fans, signed jerseys, took photos and chatted with them. You were down-to-earth.

Of course you had haters, people not liking your volatility but you didn‘t care. You had a mission and would continue it, no matter if you had no fan at all or a the whole woso community behind you. So while your job was to score goals, you only had one goal in mind.

You loved the Spanish weather, you loved the City, you loved the girls. They made Barcelona your home and more than that. Playing alongside Alexia, Mapi, CGH, Aitana and literally every one on the squad was amazing. It was the way they played and the mentality they had that fascinated you.

The first season at Barcelona was the season you won the Ballon D‘or, while still being so young. The combination of the playing style that you learned in the individual clubs in each country also made you Fifas the best. You were the best.

On the pitch, every opponent was afraid of you while off pitch they adored you. It broke your heart to leave Barcelona, the City you adored. So why did you leave? It was the thing you had to do. The thing you promised yourself at the age of 16 when you left Bayern - Arsenal would be your last stop ever. The thing you promised someone. Your retirement club, you would stay there forever - as long as they offered you a contract.

-

While everybody had greeted you with open arms at your arrival, the skipper kept her distance, only talking to you when necessary. Leah was skeptical to say at least, some things bothered her about you. She didn‘t appreciate your transfers nor respected them. Every country? Really? Why Arsenal? Her childhood club? How long did you want to play here before you stab the team in the back? When another country became interesting? Maybe the US? Sweden?

And then the tape. The strip of tape on your shoulder, it didn‘t make any sense to her. It didn‘t seem like you had problems with your shoulder nor an injury in the last few years (which she had obviously checked) so why the tape? She - well actually everyone, never saw you without. When it slowly started to look rancid, the next second it looked like new again. When you changed, even in the shower after playing it was always there. Were you hiding something?

Leah didn‘t like you, it was clear as the day but (even if she would never admit it out loud) you were a fantastic footballer. Your feet could do magic with the ball, from assisting to scoring to defending, everything you did on the pitch was faboulous. That, she had to appreciate, maybe you would help Arsenal to win the league.

This season. who knows how long you‘ll stay.

-

After your first month with the gunners, you knew for sure, your heart and brain realized it for the first time: after years, you had finally fulfilled your promise.

You felt peace, nothing more. Maybe you could forgive yourself someday.

-

Over time, Leah‘s dislike towards you turned into much more - hate. When you were near the blonde, she would glare at you or leave the room,

the moments you tried to talk to her, to get to know her, she ignored you and

she would rudely comment on the things you said.

After months of trying, you just stopped. If she doesn‘t want to talk to you that‘s okay. You didn’t have to be friends - colleagues, that‘s it.

-

"When I visited Greece-" you started to tell Lia about the beauty of the country when her work wife cut you off, "wow, Y/L/N, a country you didn‘t play in, really respectable" Leah spat, rolling her eyes. Lia smacked the back of her head, her behavior unbelievable.

It was no secret that the defender felt some sort of dislike towards you - noticeable for your team mates and especially for the swiss as she knew Leah like the back of her hand.

"Ignore her" the midfielder stated, asking you to continue your story.

"It‘s fine" not in the mood to tell the end of your Greece-story, you left the two LW‘s joining Vic as she juggled with the ball.

"You really need to stop that" the swiss international grumbled, "she‘s actually really nice"

"And her loyalty sucks! I won’t let her ruin this club"

The brunette watched the blonde march away, arms crossed.

-

Leah‘s behavior continued like that, rude comments sent your way, cut off mid sentence and ignorance accompanied you every single day. But your mindset was clear: you couldn’t be bothered by her.

You understood that Leah was skeptical of you, you‘re new and played for several clubs but on the pitch you played your absolute best each game. You deserved at least some respect.

-

"Where‘s hopper?" Leah asked - you’re never late. Her new nickname for you showed her antipathy towards you yet hiding it well enough, so other people outside of the team wouldn’t get suspicious.

"She‘s on her way home for a few days" Lia replied calmly, not wanting the blonde to explode.

You had texted Lia about your plans earlier this morning - she was your friend after all. Just because she was great friends with Leah, didn‘t mean you couldn’t be friends with her too. Like I said, you were friends with the whole team, just not with Leah. Besides you enjoyed talking to Wally as it was in your mother tongue, conversation flowing with an ease.

"What the fuck?! She does know we‘re playing a derby this weekend!" The England captain growled, marching out of the changing room, already calling you. Who do you think you were?

Her calls went straight to voicemail which only angered and frustrated her more. why were you so infuriating?

The defender was quick to approach to Jonas - what was the thinking letting you leave? Did he even know about this?

"Why did you let her leave?!" the woman asked loudly and harshly. You made her blood boil. "Is she playing on Saturday? You should kick her out of the squad! This behavior is unacceptable" she scolded.

Even though Leah knew the team would need you, she was too caught up in her anger.

"Who are you talking about?" the coach asked rather confused. Was he missing something?

"Your new signing" she huffed out frustrated, how can he be this clueless?

"She‘s not here. Apparently at home in Germany, did you know about this?"

"Oh! Yes, I know about this. It‘s in her contract"

"What do you mean? In her contract?"

"She‘s allowed to leave, no matter what day, at-" he looked at his watch, checking the date, "at the 20th of March for three days. One day to get there, one day to stay, one day to leave" he explained.

"Why?"

"I can’t tell you that"

-

On game day, you arrived on time at the stadium, your favourite defender already impatiently waiting for you in the locker room. When you entered the room, she was about to stomp over, telling you how your behavior was unacceptable and jeopardizing the team but something told her not to. Your shoulders were sagged, your eyes red and puffy as you had bags under them as well - it looked like you had been crying for awhile and not sleeping either. You looked small and sad, but not the sadness-sad, somehow it looked like grieving-sad or guilty-sad. Leah didn't know if her analysis was correct, after all, she didn't know you as you weren’t friends - not even close to that - and to the others it seemed like you were your usual self.

As you walked past her to get to your cubby, she grabbed your hand. "Are you okay?" she asked, genuinely concerned about your well-being. Her stone cold persona towards you was gone for the moment, eyes scanning your face - what was wrong? How can she help you?

"I‘m fine, Leah"

Her hand had a firm grip on yours yet it was so gentle and soft - it was almost like you could feel her 'caring' about you.

But you knew, she only cared about the team and not about you.

"Thank you for asking, though" you smiled a bit, before leaving her touch and walking over to your cubby.

You didn't want to be rude to her because it seemed like she was dead serious about her question. Besides, if you wanted to have at least a somewhat normal work-relationship with her, this might was a step in the right direction.

However, you had to admit, the feeling of her holding your hand was quite nice and made you hope for eventually being friends one day.

-

The game started with you on the bench as agreed with Jonas. It was his decision if he wanted to put you in or not and you respected either way. You were thankful enough that he had shown so much understanding about your family situation, so you wouldn’t be the one to complain about not playing.

Next to you on the bench sat the one and only Leah Williamson, who watched the game very carefully, attentively and critically - the same as you did. In your heads, the two of you analyzed what happened on the field, every bad pass, every unused space or loss of the ball was noted while you tried to come up with solutions. While Leah stated her analysis to everyone at half time, you talked to the relevant person what they should pay particular attention to - most opponents had the same playing style, even if the tactics were changed. Overall, it wasn't the played game in general that mattered, but rather the individual players on the field. If you watched them long enough, it wasn't too difficult to outplay them and their team - Leah and you knew that.

Both of you got subbed on in the 74th minute, the defender doing her job brilliantly while you ran down the wing. The game seemed like it had shifted as soon as the two of you took in your positions. Chances were created, space was used, passed connected perfectly - in all honestly, Tottenham didn‘t have any control over the match anymore, thanks to Leah and your critical eyes.

The score changed when Leah sent a ball flying towards you. With one quick motion, you dribbled around the defender, firing a shot on goal - Tottenhams goalkeeper stood no chance.

That evening a special chemistry was born between your favourite defender and her favourite hopper.

-

If you were hoping that the 'how are you' question meant something, you were wrong.

Her arrogant attitude got worse, as did her mean behavior towards you. You thought that maybe, just maybe, the link up on the pitch earned you enough respect that she at least refrains from commenting. Yet she questioned everything you did and not only that: you were regularly asked whether you would leave the club at the end of the season or whether you would leave one season after that. At this point you felt helpless, you didn’t know what her problem was with you - she seemed like a nice person towards everyone else.

"Come on, Leah, leave me alone" you grumbled as she stood next to you in the locker room with her arms crossed. Especially today she was getting on your last nerve. You hadn‘t slept well the last few days and the bickering was getting more and more exhausting.

"You weren‘t concentrated today" she stated, "this isn‘t acceptable at Arsenal."

"Leah-" Wally tried to stop her but there was no chance. She wouldn’t hold back.

"No, she has to know. She‘s played at enough clubs to know that she has to give 100%!"

"As if you haven‘t had a bad day before"

"I can keep things professional"

"No you can‘t! If you could, you would leave me the fuck alone. You are all judgy but never played somewhere else than Arsenal, so get a fucking grip. At least I have the experience of other leagues"

The whole changing room gasped, Katie smirking, happy that you stood your ground. Leah’s behavior was ridiculous. And this time she took it too far.

On an emotional level, your week had been absolutely shitty.

It‘s like a haunted house, only you‘re the ghost.

On an physical level, you were exhausted.

So, neither emotionally nor physically you could deal with her at the moment.

"Watch your mouth-" the defender started before you cut her off.

"No, you will watch yours" your pointer finger angrily poked her chest, "Listen to me closely, I will not repeat myself. You, Leah Williamson, will stay away from me. I‘m not your friend, I’m not your mate, I’m your colleague, so treat me with damn respect" with that you grabbed your stuff and left.

Leah was breathing heavily, your anger awfully attractive.

"Why are you being like this?" McCabe asked, the girls in the room waiting for an answer. This couldn’t be just because you played for several clubs and she was questioning your loyalty - there had to be more.

"Because she‘s hiding something! I won‘t let her ruin this club" she growled, sitting down in her cubby.

"What should she be hiding?" Steph questioned, you seemed like an honest and truthful person.

"She literally left for three days out of nowhere!"

"She did that when we played at Barca together too" Laia added. She had never thought about that before. But Leah was right, it was unusual to not show up at training when you weren‘t injured or sick, especially since it was in the middle of the season.

"See!"

"I still don’t see the problem" Steph shrugged her shoulders, "she‘s a lovely person and you would know that if you gave her the chance to show it" with that the Australian left. You were such a lovely girl, at least someone had to defend you. Partly, Steph could understand where Leah was coming from - that girl was bleeding Arsenal red.

After Steph had left, the other girls started to leave too, Leah and Kim the only ones left.

Leah was sorting through her bag, checking if she had everything she needed when Kim broke the silence, "Her brother died when she was 16. The 21st of March is the day of his death"

Leah stopped her movements, "what?" she turned around, the colour leaving her face.

"That’s all I know"

Kim grabbed her bag, walking past the blonde, about to leave, "I’m disappointed in you, Leah. We're a family here, and you didn't show her that. Have you ever thought about why she played in every league? You’re criticizing but not questioning. You doubt her loyalty, but she hasn't transferred within the league - doesn't that show her respect for the club she‘s played at?"

"Kim-"

"Have a nice evening"

Alone in the changing room, Leah tried to process the information, now it made sense that you were at home for a few days. It was his anniversary.

She had been a complete ass to you without knowing your story - she still didn't. However, for the first time she felt something like interest. She wanted to get to know you. She wanted to know your story. But most of all she wanted to apologize. You seemed like a sweet girl.

Of course, most of her questions were still unanswered: the tape? Why did you transfer so much? You‘re young.. but for the first time she didn't care. She fucked up and was determined to start over.

I‘m disappointed in you, Leah.

-

At home, the defender sat on her couch, eating some food while the tv was showing her favourite show. This wasn’t right. She couldn’t wait till tomorrow. She had to talk to. Now.

Leaving her food on the table, the blonde called Lia, asking where you lived. The Swiss was hesitant to tell her as she wanted to protect you but Leah sounded genuinely upset about her own behavior.

"Please.. I- I‘m in the wrong here, I know that now. I don‘t want her to go to bed angry or feeling like she‘s not a part of the Arsenal family."

After that, the Swiss texted your address, the England captain already on her way.

When she arrived at her destination, she felt nervous. She rang the bell, hoping you wouldn’t open. She wasn‘t prepared at all - she didn’t know what to say or how to make things up with you.

In that moment, she realized maybe it was a hasty decision to just show up in front of your door and apologize. It wouldn’t be deserved to accept the apology straightaway.

"Leah?" you said surprised.

"Hopper" it was almost inaudible as you had knocked the air out of her lungs. You looked breathtaking. No, it wasn‘t something fancy - you wore an oversized shirt and some shorts while your hair was down but you looked naturally beautiful.

"What are you doing here? I told you to leave me alone"

"I- um.. I came to apologize?"

"Are you asking me that?"

"I came to apologize"

"Go home, Leah-"

"Give me a chance-"

"No. Look, I don’t know why you are here or what your problem is but I don‘t want to play your sick games" you stepped back, closing the door, leaving the defender dumbfounded in front of your home.

"I know about your brother!" she called, helpless on what do to. But as soon as the word 'brother' left her mouth, she regretted it.

The door was thrown open, "what did you just say?!" you were angrier than ever. Your family had always been a sensitive subject.

"I know about your brother" the audacity Leah had to repeat her words was unbelievable.

She squeezed herself inside, looking around.

"I swear to god, if you don‘t leave-"

"I‘m really sorry" she turned around, you didn‘t know if she was talking about your brother or how she had treated you and neither did she. Either way, it made you furios, you were balling your hands into fists, trying to stay calm.

"Is that him?" she asked, walking to the picture frame on your shelf, "what‘s his name?"

It was a picture of the two of you as kids, both of you wearing Germany jerseys as you grinned in the camera - one of your favourite pictures.

And that made you explode. How dare she come to your home, implying to apologize which she wasn‘t and then act nosy.

You marched over, grabbing her at the collar of her shirt and pushing her against the wall, "leave me alone" you weren’t shouting but you voice was loud, clear and firm, almost intimidating.

Her breath hitched, "I can‘t" you were so close to her. She could see all tiny freckles, those which only appeared when you were in the sun. She was intrigued by you. Her eyes darted around your features, the wrinkle between your brows slowly disappearing.

You didn‘t know what came over you, but in less than a second, you smashed your lips against hers. Teeth were clashing, all anger and frustration purred in, hands gripping and pulling as both of your minds went blank. Neither of you could think about anything else but each other.

-

The day she stood in front of your apartment, wasn’t brought up again yet you had to admit something shifted in your dynamic that night.

The chemistry you had on the pitch only grew, Leah assisted while you scored countless of goals.

Her behavior wasn‘t as bad as before anymore, she started to greet you, say good bye or other acts of kindness yet every once in a while a snarky comments left her mouth.

After Arsenal had won the conti cup against Chelsea, the celebrations were on the rise when you entered the club. You saw some girls dancing around, some lingering at the bar and others sitting at the table.

You joined the girls at the table, sitting down next to Stina. Lost in conversation with the Swede you didn‘t notice a blonde defender standing right behind you with her arms crossed and a pout on her face, "you‘re sitting on my seat, hopper" she grumbled, the pout increasing.

"Sit somewhere else" you replied, not looking up as you continued your conversation which had been rudely cut off by the English woman.

"There is no seat left"

This time you turned around, looking up from your seat as the defender glared at you.

It was the first time, you had seen her tonight and she looked absolutely gorgeous with the outfit she was wearing.

"I think you‘re old enough to deal with that, aren‘t you?" you smiled sarcastically at her, once again turning to Stina.

"I am" she stated, a smug smile plastered on her face. With the alcohol in her system, she simply sat on your lap, one arm going around your shoulders while she started her own conversation. Weirdly confused but somehow not minding, you let her be, your arms going around her waist to support her. No one said anything about, most of them not realizing what was happening or simply not caring - as long as you weren‘t fighting everything seemed fine.

The night continued like that, chatting, dancing and enjoying the time.

"Could you let me get up, please? I‘d like to have another drink" you asked the defender who immediately got up, "can you bring one for me too?"

"Sure"

She smiled shyly before you left, sitting back down, Lia looking at her with a 'tell me right now what‘s going on' expression.

"What?"

"Seriously? What‘s going on between the two of you?" the Swiss asked, Leah‘s eyes already back on you as you stood at the bar, ordering.

"Nothing"

The defender’s brows furrowed when a man approached you, standing way too close to you, her jaw clenching.

She saw you taking a step to the side, intending to signal the man that you were not interested. In responds, he only stepped closer.

Angrily, the blonde stood up, marching over, "is everything alright here?" her hands settled on your waist, pulling you protectively towards her.

"Everything‘s alright, mate" the man slurred, stepping forward, "I’m just getting to know your friend."

Leah was quick to step in front of you, her hand holding onto you to know you‘re safe, "leave my girlfriend alone or I will break your nose" she threatened.

The man held his hands in surrender before he left.

In an instant, she turned around, cupping your cheeks, checking if you were alright.

"I‘m okay" you stated. What just happened? Girlfriend? Weird man? Break his nose? Girlfriend?

"Here‘s your drink"

She took her drink, resting her hand on the small of your back, guiding you back to the table.

What‘s just happened?

Lia was the only one left at the table while the others had joined the dancers. You were about to sit down on an empty chair when the blonde pulled you on her lap - roles reversed.

Raising an brow, "There are enough empty seats this time"

"I don’t care, hopper"

"I‘ll join the rest on the dancing floor" Wally said, winking at Leah whose cheeks turned red.

"You‘re so beautiful, you know" the England captain said, cheeks turning a deeper shade of red.

"How many drinks did you have?" you giggled, your fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns along the back of neck. "Not enough to punch that guy" she growled.

You laughed, "you‘re cute when you‘re jealous" not so sober yourself.

She squeezed your hips in responds, resting her head on your shoulder.

Both of you enjoyed the silence that came over you, also enjoying the closeness you shared in that moment. Leah wasn‘t forgiven and she knew that yet she couldn’t stay away from you. Somehow you were addicting.

For once, it was nice not to argue with the blonde but to enjoy her company. She was cute, you couldn’t lie.

"I‘m very sorry for my behavior" she whispered, "I’d like to start over again" you turned towards her, eyes locking, "I’m not asking for your forgiveness, just for a chance to show you that I’m not an awful person. You are a part of the Arsenal family and I’m sorry for treating you otherwise"

You let her words sink in. She was right, she couldn’t ask for your forgiveness because too much had happened already but starting over seemed like an opportunity for the both of you.

"I’m Y/N"

-

The next weeks, Leah was the sweetest person to you. Each morning, she greeted you with the widest smile and when she left the facility, she always made sure to tell you good bye. She treated you with respect and listened to everything you had to say. She was amazed by the stuff you had to say. She couldn’t care less if it was something as simple as your favourite colour or an opinion on something. Everything you said was important to her.

Soon the small talks turned into longer conversations until they were endless.

In matches, when somebody fouled you Leah was the first to stick up for you, arguing with the opponent before she argued with the ref (of course after she had made sure you were okay.)

Slowly but surely, Leah earned your trust and appreciation.

She wasn‘t just anybody - she was Leah Williamson and once she had set her mind, you couldn’t stop her from doing it.

She wasn‘t the Leah you had met at your arrival - she changed for good. She was much more. She was funny, loving and caring, attentive and respectful - she was actually an amazing woman and your friend.

-

Standing in the kitchen of Leah’s apartment, you made dinner for the both of you while she sat on the counter watching you and eating the ingredients.

The atmosphere was tranquil and relaxed as music filled the background.

Peace.

"His name‘s Sebastian" you turned around, grabbing another ingredient out of the fridge while you avoided Leah‘s eyes, painful stings in your heart. You wouldn‘t cry, not now. "He‘s three years older than me" you inhaled sharply, trying to compose yourself as you continued to cook. "You would have loved him, he was a big Arsenal fan, watched every match" you chuckled, "but was the worst player of all time. He never really was a sports guy anyway, he was rather the calm type of person. He loved to cook - that‘s actually one of his favourite recipes" you nodded your head towards the food splayed out on the counter.

The dish you were making had brought you so much comfort after his death. It felt familiar. Sometimes, you imagined him standing in the kitchen, so concentrated that his brows would furrow as he cut the vegetables or when he seasoned - never a drop too much. He was very particular when it came to cooking, but rightly so, because when he did it, it always tasted absolutely perfect.

"He used to be my best friend"

Your heart broke into pieces saying it out loud. He wasn‘t just anybody - he was your brother, the only man you ever loved and him more than anyone.

The two of you had a special bond, you basically owed him your entire career. Because it was him who kicked the ball around with you for hours,

because it was him who drove with you to training when your parents had to work,

because it was him who always watched your matches,

because it was him who always believed in you, even when you were on the verge of giving up.

He was your biggest supporter, the person who believed you could be the best footballer in the world one day and the one person who made sure that you had a life outside of football.

And even though you would have never shared your charger with him, you would have given him your lungs, so he could breathe.

"What happened to him?" Leah asked, her voice gentle, testing the waters if it was okay to ask or too much.

"When-" you closed your eyes, holding back the tears that were about to fall, "I was at a birthday party. At some point during the night I asked him to pick me up because I wasn't feeling well. He did it without hesitation. On the way home we- we got hit by a car and crashed into a tree. Both of us were conscious but he was coughing and bleeding very badly. It looked very bad. I prayed to every god I knew that they should take me and not him- they didn‘t listen" tears were streaming down your face as you aggressively cut the remaining vegetables, "his last words were 'make me proud' and i remember shouting at him but it was too late. I told him I loved him- he took his last breath with a smile on his face"

Silence filled the room, small sniffles the only thing being heard. You grabbed a tissue, blowing your nose and another one to dry your tears, "I am- was blaming myself for what happened, so I left home as soon as I could"

Leah was listening carefully, her heart aching seeing you in pain and the pain you had been through.

"I always complained about others leagues, because they seemed so easy and everything" you chuckled at the memory, "and he always was like 'you can‘t complain if you haven‘t played there'" mocking him, the most german accent in your voice, "so that’s what I did. I have played in several leagues but I always knew Arsenal would be my last stop"

Everything made sense now, Leah‘s heart broke even more, realizing what an absolute ass she was while you only had one goal in mind - to make him proud.

It was never your plan to ruin Arsenal, you wanted to stay there to fulfill the promise you had made in the night that changed your life.

-

Leah saw you with different eyes now, her heart was beating for you in more than one way. She admired you - for the way you play, how strong you are and how hard life had been for you yet still smiling throughout it.

She had to protect the ray of sunshine and the feisty beast you could be. You weren‘t just anybody - you were Y/N Y/L/N, the best footballer in the world.

The defender was a 100% sure, your brother would be more than proud of you and the woman you became.

But she also knew what she had to do. You deserved an apology, even more than that - you deserved every good thing in the world. And if she could she would take all your pain away.

-

It was in the middle of the night, all lights turned off besides in the kitchen of the blonde defender. She sat at the kitchen table, one sheet of paper and a fountain pen in front of her.

Dear Sebastian,

I’m Leah, Leah Williamson.

I've been playing for Arsenal my whole life. I've had my best and worst moments at the club. All of my best moments had to do with my team, my friends, my family, whereas my worst moments had something to do with my performance or injuries. Unfortunately, because of my loyalty and love for the club, I was blinded from seeing the important things - your sister. I never understood why she had transferred so often - it seemed like she was volatile and didn't understand loyalty and love. But she does - she does that more than anyone else.

Her loyalty was only ever dedicated to you.

She is an incredible person and I’m so sorry for the way i treated her at her arrival (I will tell her that, this time when I’m fully sober and explain everything). But I’m writing you to tell you that I like your sister, more than I ever thought I would. To be honest, that‘s the first time I’m admitting it to someone, I didn‘t even admit it fully to myself - but I do. I like her. And I guess, this is me asking for your blessing.

A blessing that I can treat her right if she lets me,

a blessing that I can always support her,

a blessing for one chance with her.

I know, there is much too make up for and my behavior will never be excused - no apology could be strong enough for what I have done - but I want you to know that I will regret it till the rest of my life.

So while you may be her biggest fan from paradise, I want to be her biggest fan from earth.

I promise to do everything in my power to be the best person she deserves.

Sincerely,

Leah Williamson

With a lighter in her pocket and the letter in her hand, she went outside on the balcony. The night was chill and quiet, the perfect atmosphere as the moon shone brightly. Her nerves were calming down and her mind seemed to find rest as she looked up in the sky, "one chance" she whispered, burning the letter. She watched the ink and paper slowly disappear, the smoke rising into the night sky. She knew it was unrealistic to expect any sign of positive responds but was it wrong to hope? When the letter was fully burned, she waited till the smoke was completely gone before she went back inside, turning off the kitchen light and making her way to bed.

When the blonde woke up the next day, she made her way to kitchen immediately, needing her morning tea. She frowned and froze.

"Hello?" she called.

No response.

She had turned off the light last night, didn‘t she?

She sure did!

Was this her sign? Was this the sign that the letter arrived?

It was his blessing.

-

"Hey" the blonde greeted you with a wide smile when you entered the changing room.

Matching her smile, "good morning" you walked to your cubby.

"What are you doing tonight?" she followed you, the smile not leaving her features. Someone woke up in a good mood, you thought.

"Going home, eating, then sleeping" you replied.

"Do you want to watch the Arsenals men game tonight? With me?"

"Are you nervous?" you asked, the defender fidgeting with her fingers as her cheeks were slowly turning red, "I’d love to watch the match with you."

And if you thought her smile couldn’t have gotten wider, you were wrong - the smile she sent you was from ear to ear.

"Perfect" with excitement in her body, she pressed a peck to your cheek before she happily skipped out of the room, the other girls watching the interaction that just happened closely.

"Are you blushing?" Katie laughed loudly as you embarrassingly turned to your bag, in fact blushing.

-

Half an hour before kick-off you rang Leah‘s doorbell, takeout in your hands. You weren‘t in the mood for cooking and Leah‘s cooking skill were eh, e for effort?, also you had been craving Chinese all day long, so that‘s what you got.

"I brought food with me!" you grinned, pushing yourself inside as soon as the blonde had opened the door.

"What did I do to deserve this?" she asked chuckling at your eagerness as you walked in her kitchen to get some plates and cutlery.

Cheekily, you replied "Nothing, I was just hungry"

Serving the food on the plates, you sat down at the table with Leah, comfortable silence filling the air while the two of you ate dinner.

Something was bothering Leah though, you could tell. Every now and then it seemed like she wanted to say something yet she closed her mouth quickly after.

"I‘m sorry for my behavior" she mumbled, "when you arrived at Arsenal, I mean" you looked up from your plate, meeting her eyes for a brief second, "I was skeptical about your loyalty and it got out of hand" carefully she laid her hand on yours, hoping you wouldn’t pull away.

You didn‘t - you wanted to hear what she had to say.

"I‘m really sorry and I know we started over, but I need you to know how sorry I am, this time without any drink in my system. You’re the most loyal person I know, I just didn‘t notice it"

"Leah" you said gently, "look at me, please"

The defender raised her head, looking at you with unsure eyes, rapidly tapping her foot under the table.

"Thank you for telling me. I guess I would have been skeptical too if I had played for the gunners my whole life" you told her, "I’m not excusing your behavior because it wasn‘t nice or appropriate but I don‘t have any bad blood against you either. In fact, I enjoy your company" you pulled her hand from hers, only to put it against her side profile, softly caressing the apple of her cheek.

Subconsciously, she leaned into your touch, "I‘m very sorry"

"I know"

The unspoken 'why' barrier was finally removed.

-

"Arsenal will win, I can feel it!" the defender stated, flopping down on the couch. With a bowl of popcorn in your hand, you sat down next to her, somehow your thighs touching even though the couch was big enough. "Liverpool is a tough opponent"

"Oh stop it! None of that"

Making herself comfortable on the couch, she turned on the tv, ready to see Arsenal win.

Getting comfortable yourself, you pulled your legs on the couch, leaning towards the armrest on the other side which earned you a glare, "what do think you‘re doing?"

"Oh, sorry" in an instant your feet were on the ground.

"No, what are you doing over there? Come here" she nodded to the space between her legs, signaling you to cuddle her.

With red cheeks and a racing heart, you crawled over, settling between her legs as your body melted into hers, head resting on her chest while her arms wrapped around you.

Leah was sure you could hear her racing heart and even though she desperately tried to concentrate on the match, she just couldn’t. With you in her arms, she wouldn’t ever want to think about anything else. You looked so precious in her arms, eyes fully focused on the tv.

"You are so beautiful" she admired, looking at you with heart eyes.

"What?"

You prompted yourself up, looking at the blonde who was smiling dazedly at you, "you are just so gorgeous" her fingers started to play with your hair as she got lost in your eyes, "let me take you on a date"

It was crazy how the mood had changed - from apologies at dinner to cuddling on the couch to asking you out.

"Okay" you smiled shyly, cheeks crimson red as your skin tingled.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah"

You stared at each other, eyes shining with adoration and passion, both of you slowly leaning in.

When your lips met, the world seemed to stop spinning, fireworks exploding as you melted into each other and Arsenal getting themselves on the scoreboard. She kissed you so gentle and tender - the complete opposite of the kiss you had shared before.

Everything was perfect.

-

After many many dates, the blonde asked you to be her girlfriend. None of your friends surprised at this point - you had always been obsessed with each other.

The two of you had been caught kissing several times, not even trying to hide it. Leah loved kissing you but she also loved physical touch in general, always holding your hand, having her arm around your midsection or her hand on your thigh while driving. She couldn’t get enough of you.

-

"Come to bed" the blonde whined, waiting for you to join her under the covers. Weirdly, neither of you could sleep good at night without being in each others embrace, so it became your routine - either Leah would sleep at your home or the other way around - this night you were at Leah‘s, and obviously you had stolen a shirt from her wardrobe as your pajamas - which she liked very much. You looked so cute in her clothes.

When you joined her, her arms were immediately wrapped around your body as she pulled you close, pressing a good night kiss on your temple.

The next morning, you woke up with hair in your face and a head resting on your chest, the blonde defender still peacefully asleep. You stayed like that for awhile, your hand gently rubbing her back before you slipped out of bed, ready to make some breakfast and your much needed coffee.

Since it was the weekend and your day off, you decided to surprise the England captain with some self made pancakes - you knew she loved them.

While Leah woke up due the feeling of your absence which turned out to be correct, something she didn‘t like. Sleeping without you was awful already but waking up without you? absolutely horrible.

Grumpily, she made her way out of the bedroom, the smell of pancakes hitting her nostrils, lightening her mood in an instant. Following the smell, she found you in the kitchen, only wearing a sports bra and some of her old Arsenal shorts - you looked cute - booping your head to the non existing music, no doubt that you were humming some song. Silently, the defender walked up behind you, her arms smacking around your stomach, "gosh, you scared me!"

"Sorry, baby" apologetic, she pressed multiple kisses on the side of your neck, fingers tracing along your sides.

You inhaled sharply when she traced along the stripe of tape on your shoulder, she had never brought it up before, respecting whatever story was behind it.

"You- you can take it off" you whispered breathlessly, anxiety and fear creeping through your body.

"Are you sure?" her lips kissed the other side of your shoulder, trying to calm you down and ease your mind.

"Yes, just- be careful, please"

and that’s exactly what she was. All of her moves were gentle and careful - you weren’t afraid that it would hurt pulling the tape off but the story behind it.

After the tape was ripped off a big scar was displayed on your shoulder, "it‘s from the car crash" you said, pain shooting through the healed wound. It wasn‘t an injury pain rather the type of phantom pain - suddenly you were back in the car.

"It‘s a constant reminder of what had happened - something that‘s my fault" you admitted, fighting the tears, "I started to cover it up but make up didn‘t work, so the physio at Ajax taped it. And since that day, I do it all the time"

Leah‘s heart broke at the vulnerability she was seeing, your posture seemingly weak and exposed.

"Is this okay?" Her pointer finger traced over the scar..

"Yeah"

..not in a way that made you uncomfortable but in a way that made you feel like you didn’t have to be ashamed of it.

"What about this?" for a moment you didn‘t feel her touch at all before she pressed featherlight kisses over your scar.

"yes"

Tears were streaming down your face, all of your walls broken down now, Leah made you feel perfect the way you are - because you are.

"I‘m proud of you"

Everything came crashing down, a sob escaped your throat and within a second, you were in your girlfriends arms, crying into her shoulder. The tears that you had not allowed to shed in previous years, fell all at once now.

The England captain hugged you through it all, letting you cry as long as you needed - she wouldn‘t go anywhere.

She had promised your brother to do everything in her power to be the best person you deserve and that‘s what she did, does and will do.

She kept her promise and you did too.

Arsenal was always half but never whole, Leah‘s begun to feel like home.

x