Hi my lovelies. This is part 3 of the Kiss Me semi-series. Each one is a short little thing with a different player about a different type of kiss inspired by a post I saw on her a bit ago. I hope you enjoy.
Hands in you Hair
Magdalena Eriksson x Reader
Description: it’s your first night out in a while and you know you look good.
Kiss Me masterlist
The mirror was still slightly foggy from the shower you’d taken, your hair still damp as you adjusted the last curl and leaned closer to check your eyeliner. The playlist you’d put on thumped softly. You tugged at the hem of your shirt, checking how it sat for the fifth time, fingers brushing the little bows absently.
“Stop fussing,” Magda called from the kitchen. “You look hot already.”
“I’m not fussing,” you shot back, tilting your head and redoing the same flick anyway.
“You are,” she replied, entirely too smug.
You were just reaching for your earrings when the wolf whistle cut through the room, loud and sudden enough to make you jump.
“Fucking hell,”
“Looking good, mitt hjärta.” Magda’s voice followed, smooth and amused, like she’d been waiting all evening for that reaction.
You turned around, hand still at your ear, heat creeping into your cheeks as you faced her leaning against the doorframe. Her arms were crossed, eyes slow and appreciative as they dragged over you.
The shirt wasn’t anything too special, but you knew exactly why she liked it — loose enough to move, open enough to tease, nothing but a few delicate bows keeping the front together.
“Don’t look too bad yourself, baby.” You laughed, nodding toward her outfit.
She glanced down at herself, then back up at you. “I know.”
You snorted.
“Best looking couple out there, I reckon,” she added, pushing off the doorframe and walking over to you. Her hands settled on your hips like it was instinct, thumbs hooking just slightly around your waist.
“Definitely,” you agreed easily.
Her hands slid under the hem of your shirt, finding bare skin, smoothing slow, absent-minded patterns like she had nowhere else to be. She tugged you closer, and you went without resistance, folding into her solid warmth, your nose brushing her neck as you breathed her in. Cinnamon. Always cinnamon.
“You’re doing this on purpose,” you murmured.
“Doing what?” she asked innocently.
“Distracting me.” She grinned.
You lifted your arms, fingers threading into her hair, giving it a small tug that made her inhale sharply. Her eyes darkened immediately, gaze dropping to your lips, then flicking back up again.
“Careful,” she said lightly. “We’re meant to be going out.” The kiss that followed made that statement feel like a lie. It was hot and lingering, her mouth confident and unhurried, one hand sliding down to squeeze your arse like she couldn’t help herself.
You moaned softly, fingers tightening again, and she broke the kiss just enough to breathe.
“How…” Magda murmured, lips brushing yours. “How about we don’t go?”
You barely had time to register the words before she kissed you again, deeper this time, like she was already celebrating the idea.
“But it’s the first night out with the team in ages,” you managed between kisses.
“So?” she replied, pulling you closer. “You look sexy.”
You laughed, cheeks burning.
“I’ll still look sexy when we’re at the club dancing.” You leaned back slightly, raising an eyebrow at her.
Her eyes narrowed as she pretended to think it over. “I…” She cleared her throat dramatically. “I think I may be coming down with something.”
You stared at her.
Her voice dropped, raspier now. “Yep. Definitely. Wouldn’t want to spread it around.”
“Magda.”
“Yes?”
“If you want to stay here, that’s fine,” you said, tugging her hair once more before stepping back. “But I’m going out.”
You turned to grab your wallet from the dresser.
You didn’t get far.
“But, mitt hjärta,” Magda murmured right by your ear, arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you back against her. “Your top.”
You felt her fingers find one of the bows.
“It’s broken.”
With one easy tug, the knot came undone. The fabric parted, cool air brushing your skin as you gasped.
“Magda,” you whined, though it came out breathless and weak.
“And all of your other tops are in the wash,” she continued cheerfully, fingers slipping just under the band of your bra. “Tragic, really.”
She turned you slowly, deliberately, pressing soft, playful kisses along your jaw, your cheek, the corner of your mouth.
“I guess we can’t go out after all.”
It was embarrassing how easily you folded. “You’re explaining why we aren’t there,” you said, hands sliding up her arms.
“Oh, I’ll make it very convincing.”
She guided you back until the backs of your legs hit the bed, and you sat without protest. She stayed standing between your knees, hands cupping your jaw, thumbs brushing lazily like she had all the time in the world.
“You’re impossible,” you muttered.
“And yet,” she said brightly, “you love me.”
You rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away.
She leaned down, forehead resting against yours. “Besides,” she added softly, “you’ve been running around all week. One night in won’t kill us.”
You exhaled, tension easing out of you. “They’re going to complain.”
“I’ll send them a message,” she said. “Something vague. Mysterious.”
“Mysterious?”
“Very.” She kissed your nose.
You laughed, giving in fully now, hands slipping around her waist. “You planned this.”
“Maybe,” she said, unapologetic.
She reached up, carefully pushing the top off your shoulders, fingers gentle now, reverent. “There,” she murmured. “Now you look even sexier.”
You leaned forward, stealing a kiss, slow and warm.
5k celebration prompt: "I'm still your emergency contact."
Woso masterlist | Words: 2k
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Keira had a busy schedule today, she had a training session in a bit, and a dinner and movie night with some of the girls from the club. Fully dressed in her training kit, she was about to head out the door. Putting on her shoes was the last thing she needed to do before heading out. Her phone rang before she could tie her laces, though.
She looked down at the caller ID, but didn’t recognise the number. Usually she would decline unknown caller IDs but she had a weird feeling about this one, so she decided to pick it up. “Hello?” She said as she placed her phone down and put the call on speaker, so she could continue tying her laces.
“Hello, is this Keira Walsh?” The lady on the other side of the line asks. “Yeah, I’m Keira. Who is this?” Keira asks wearily. “Hi Keira, I’m calling from St. Mary's Hospital.” This piqued her interest right away. “We’ve got you written down as Y/n Y/l/n’s emergency contact. She was brought into our hospital.”
“What happened?” Keira asks, her voice full of worry. “It appears she has suffered a severe allergic reaction.” Her heart was beating out of her chest, it had been a long time, but she remembered all too well how bad it could be if you had to go to the hospital for it.
“How is she now?” She was already out the door and on her way to her car now. “She’s still unconscious, but we expect her to make a full recovery.” Keira was worried, you had never had such a bad reaction before. “Alright, thank you. I’m on my way.”
On her drive to the hospital Keira thinks back of the last time she witnessed one of your allergic reactions. You were both still playing for Manchester City. Those days seem like ages ago now, a time where the two of you had still been in a relationship.
She let that thought go as she put her focus back on the last allergic reaction she remembered. The two of you had been on a date at some restaurant in town, one neither one of you had been to before.
Upon making the reservation Keira had asked them to write down that you had a peanut allergy, and you had reminded the server of your allergy while ordering to make sure that none of the dishes you ordered contained any peanuts, or other nuts, since you tended to avoid nuts alltogether to be sure.
However, it turned out that unlike usual they had used peanut oil in the dish despite the notification of your allergy. Everything seemed normal at first, but Keira instantly noticed the way your face changed when you started to feel the first symptoms. “Peanuts?” She had questioned. The nod of your head was enough of a reaction for her to grab your EpiPen from her bag.
She had started carrying one since she witnessed you needing to use it the first time. You had always said that she didn’t need to carry one because you were, but she had insisted on taking one of your pens everywhere.
You had shown her how you needed to use the EpiPen, so if needed she could do it for you. That day you hadn’t needed her to do it for you, but she was still by your side instantly and after you gave another nod, indicating that she could give it to you, she had gotten the Epi ready and given you the shot of epinephrine. It had quickly worked, and your symptoms started to come down quickly.
The scene had caused quite a commotion, and the owner of the restaurant had been by your table apologizing as soon as he heard. Keira remembered being angry and wanting to yell at them for using peanuts after clearly being instructed of an allergy, but she knew that she needed to get you to the hospital to get you checked out.
And now here she was at the hospital again, only now you weren’t together anymore. You hadn’t been for almost three years. It had been a while since you last spoke, you didn’t break up badly, it was a mutual thing. But then she moved to Spain, and you just lost contact over time.
Her transfer to Chelsea was still recent, she hadn’t played a match against your new club Arsenal yet, so she hadn’t actually seen you before now while you were laying in your hospital bed. Her heart broke a little seeing you laying there connected to a bunch of wires and an IV line.
Keira sat down by your side, and out of habit she took your hand in hers, like she had done every time she had gone to the hospital with you. She didn’t know who she should call for you, so she opted for texting her best friend Leah, who was also your teammate at Arsenal.
Half an hour or so passed before you started waking up. Keira instantly sat up straight, her hand still holding yours. You open your eyes slowly, letting them adjust to the bright lights. Your body feels heavy, and your throat dry. You heard a beeping sound to your side, when you looked over you saw a heart monitor connected to one of the wires on your chest. It all started to come together, your trip to Camden Market, and having one of the cookies that was not supposed to have any peanuts in it. But seeing as you were in the hospital now, it clearly had some.
“Hey, you’re okay. You’re at the hospital.” Keira said softly, while giving your hand a light squeeze. You turn your head to the other side, confusion written all over your face. “Keira?” You ask, sounding raspier than intended.
Keira quickly hands you the cup of water that was standing by your bedside. “Here, take a sip.” She said while handing you the cup. After you take a few sips of water, you ask the question that’s been on your mind since you turned around. “What are you doing here?”
Your eyes scanned her fully now for the first time. She was wearing a Chelsea training kit, her hair tied back in a quick ponytail. You looked down at her hand holding yours, and for a quick moment you smiled, remembering exactly how it felt when she used to be in the hospital with you.
“I’m still your emergency contact.” She answers your question, “Turns out you never changed it at the hospital.”
“Oh.” You say after a moment, a little embarrassed that you forgot to change it and now they had called your ex-girlfriend to come keep you company at the hospital. “Yeah, it’s okay though. They said it was a bad one, do you know what happened?”
You tell her how you were doing a solo day trip to visit Camden Market, and how you think it was the cookie you tried at one of the stands. Not that you were sure that it was that, but it was the most likely cause, since the symptoms started after that. You hadn’t noticed at first, likely because it had been so busy around you, but then everything happened so fast.
Then when you finish your recap of your day that took a turn for the worse, you tell her, “I should have changed your contact.” Keira smiled and shrugged, “Or maybe you just knew that I’d still come if you needed me.” You return the smile, “I mean it was definitely nice to wake up to a familiar face.”
Keira’s face turned serious for a moment. “I didn’t know who you would want me to call, so I texted Leah. I hope that’s okay. She called your mom and I promised to update once you were awake so she could relay it to your mom.”
You gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, “Thank you, I appreciate that. Could you maybe get my phone so I can call my mom myself?” Keira got up, “Yeah, of course. I’ll update Leah as well.”
Unsurprisingly, your mom picked up after the first ring. “Y/n, honey?” You smiled after hearing her voice. “Hi mom, yeah it’s me. I’m doing okay, don’t worry.” She rambled on and eventually said, “Do you need me to come?”
With a shake of your head you tell her, “No, it’s okay. I’m not alone. Kei is here.” The tone in your mom’s voice changed instantly. “Keira is there with you?” You look over to Keira, who smiles back at you warmly. “Yeah, she is. Long story short, I forgot to change my emergency contact.” Your mom laughed at that, so you quickly continue on. “I’m going to catch up with her for a bit, but I’ll let you know if anything changes with me, okay?” Your mom quickly agreed, “Sounds like a lovely plan sweetheart. If things go well with the catch up, invite her over for dinner some time. You know, so I can thank her for being there for you.” You roll your eyes at your mom for clearly wanting you to get back together with Keira. “I will mom.”
“I’m sure she was surprised to hear my name be meantioned.” Keira said, sitting back down by your bedside. You chuckled, “You’d think that, but she kinda already invited you over for dinner.” She smiled, “Well, we better have a good catch up then. Don’t want to disappoint your mom.”
It felt like the two of you hadn’t lost contact at all, you fell right back into the comfortable conversations you’ve always had. You wanted to keep her around to catch up, but you also knew that she probably had somewhere else to be seeing she was in her training kit. “Are you sure you can stick around? I don’t want to keep you from training any longer than I already have.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I have nowhere to be. I called off the moment I hung up the call from the hospital. I’m all yours.” The last part brought a blush to your cheeks. Keira noticed your cheeks flushing red and her heart skipped a beat. “I didn’t mean-”
“I know.” You interrupted her before she could finish. “It’s just, I don’t know.” Keira smiles, “I know.”
There was silence after that moment, but it didn’t feel awkward. It felt the same way that it had always done, comfortable and safe.
Keira was the first one to break the silence. “You scared me, you know?” Her voice was soft. She was playing with the hospital bracelet around your wrist. “Getting that call. It was like I was taken back in time instantly. I didn’t even think, I just drove.”
“I’m glad you came.” You said, and you saw her eyes soften, so you decided to speak your mind further. “Is it okay if I said that I’ve missed this?” Keira’s smile grew, “Yeah, me too. I didn’t realise how much until I saw you again.”
The room filled with silence again. But this time you were the one that broke it. “So, dinner at my mom’s?” Keira nodded and smiled, “Yeah, I’d love that.”
You nodded and laid back down again, having used up all your energy on the conversation. It was wrong to think this, but maybe this trip to the hospital was meant to be, because now Keira was sitting beside you and holding your hand, you weren’t thinking about the allergic reaction, or the way today could have ended very badly. You weren’t thinking of endings at all, you were thinking of possible new beginnings.
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shy Chelsea x England reader
word count - 2.3k
trigger warnings - anxiety - potential autism? - r being an awkward potato
The locker room at Cobham is almost empty by the time you finish untying your boots. Most of your teammates cleared out a while ago and the only sound left is the soft clatter of your own movements. You prefer it this way anyway, quiet and safe. No eyes on you.
So when someone taps your shoulder, you almost jump out of your skin.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you!” smiles Lucy Bronze with a grin on her face that is both inviting and terrifying. “We’re having a little party tonight for Aggie's birthday tonight. You should come.”
For a second you think she must be talking to someone else, someone more part of the team until you realise she is still staring at you.
“Me?” you respond with a shaky voice.
“Yeah, you!” Lucy laughs out. “I know Aggie would love it if you came, we all would.”
Your stomach knots. Sure you'd been to a few England camps, enough to know faces, voices and personalities but you spent most of those camps hovering at the edges, trying not to get in the way. And now you are being invited to a party with everyone there, teammates from both club and country.
“Oh, um o…okay” you manage to stammer out.
“Awesome! We are meeting at 7 round Beths, I'll send you the address.” Lucy says, giving your arm a squeeze before heading back out the changing room and as the door swings shut you just stand there. Frozen.
Aggies birthday, Beth Meads house, a party and you are invited. It's enough to send you into a spiral and you fight the urge to see your dinner again as you start packing up your things. Your mind is racing after all, what do you even bring to a party? A present or a card? Something funny or something personal and handmade? Everyone else will know what to do, they always do, always fitting in with ease. But you, you have never been to a birthday party before. Not a team one, not even growing up. Not ever.
When you step outside into the cool evening air your phone buzzes with the promised address from Lucy and you just stare at your phone. You have exactly zero ideas and only a few hours to come up with a present idea that won't make you look completely out of place.
By the time you get home, the sky is already turning dusky. You dump your kit bag by the door and sink into the sofa, elbows on your knees and hands in your hair. Your heart is still trying to punch its way out of your chest. You check your phone and check it again as if rereading the address might magically hold the answers but it doesn’t. It just sits there, silently mocking you.
You try searching online - what to bring to a teammates birthday party/casual gift ideas that don’t look like you’re trying too hard/small gift ideas for footballers - but the results are useless. Nothing feels right or the things that do feel right would only arrive next week.
You stand up, pace then sit down again. Your stomach twists so tightly you think it might actually tie itself in a knot. Everyone else is probably wrapping their gifts in cute wrapping paper, knowing exactly what would make Aggie smile. But you are just clueless.
You wander into your tiny kitchen just to have some different scenery. Your gaze drifts over to your counter and lands on the little row of baking ingredients you always keep stocked and your chest loosens a little. Your messy thoughts drift back to your grandmother, the way her soft accent and steady hands guided yours as she shows you the traditional recipes she learnt growing up in Bavaria. Before you fully realise what you’re doing, you’re reaching for the familiar ingredients. Pulling out the spices and honey to make lebkuchen. It was her favourite after all and the one thing that never failed to calm you. It's not much nor is it fancy but hopefully it will be enough.
By the time your baked goods are cooling, you are standing over them with crossed arms and chewing your lip. They look good, they smell like home but your stomach is flipping again.
What if they think I’m weird?
What if they think I’m childish?
What if…
You shut down the spiral by snapping the lid down on your tupperware and tuck the box carefully into your bag. It’s too late to start over now and besides, it's the only thing that feels like you.
You pause by the mirror near the door, catching your own reflection. Your hair looks tidy enough and your outfit decent but none of it does anything to ease the heavy fear pressing on your chest. You adjust your bag on your shoulder and curl your fingers around the strap, feeling the faint warmth of the lebkuchen through the fabric.
Finding Beth’s house turns out to be harder than you expected. The street is quiet and tidy, lined with identical looking homes each with the same neat hedges and driveways. You check the address Lucy sent you again, zooming in and out on the map until the screen blurs. According to your phone you are in the right place and the house in front of you is the correct house but you still have an uneasy fear in your stomach. You walk a few steps up the pavement and then back again whilst scanning the numbers on the gates. Each time you think you’ve found it, doubt twists your stomach and you second guess yourself. You retreat more than once, pretending you are just out for an evening stroll.
Just as you are about to give up and go home, inventing a fake illness as to why you couldn’t come, you spot Keira casually walking up a driveway a few houses down. You watch as she doesn’t even knock, just opens the door and disappears inside.
Your heart jumps and plummets all in one and you force your legs to move. You trail after her but the closer you get the slower you end up moving and when you reach the driveway you stop completely. Your whole body locks up and you are frozen in fear. The weight of the Tupperware in your bag suddenly feels enormous, ridiculous even.
What if this is weird?
What if they laugh?
What if they wonder why you even came?
You clutch the strap of your bag until your fingers ache.
Footsteps crunch lightly on the gravel behind you but you don’t even realise someone is approaching until you hear a familiar voice.
“Of course Keira goes on ahead, doesn’t offer to help carry anything. It’s like she doesn’t even know what helping means… unbelievable!”
You turn just as Leah Williamson steps into view, juggling a couple of bags. Her head is down at first but as she looks up, she slightly freezes. Her eyes widen, actual shock floods her face and she blinks once then twice.
“Oh!” She blurts before she can help it. “Hi, you’re… you’re here.”
You instantly feel yourself shrink, heat rushing to your face. Leah blinks, clearly trying to get her reaction under control even though surprise still lingers in her eyes.
She shifts her bags and clears her throat softly.
“I mean, of course you are here.” she adds quickly, a small smile appearing. “It’s nice, really nice. To see you outside of football I mean.”
Her gaze flicks from you to the door, then back to your tense posture. She takes in everything: your rigid shoulders, the wide eyes and the way you look like you are seconds away from bolting.
“Would you mind getting the door for me? My hands are full and Beth will kill me if I drop any of this.”
It’s a lifeline, a small simple action to stop you from running and Leah doesn’t realise the breath she is holding until you nod and step forward. It's shaky but real and Leah lets out a soft sigh of relief.
You push the door open for Leah, your hand trembling just slightly on the handle. Warm light spills out, along with the layered tones of conversation (accents overlapping). It's overwhelming, too bright and too warm and quite possibly just the type of thing you yearn to be accepted into.
Leah steps in behind you, nudging you gently forward with her shoulder so you didn’t even have a chance to retreat. The living room appears in front of you, full of familiar faces spread across sofas and the floor. Even the kitchen doorway is occupied with people leaning against it. This time though, you don’t get a chance to freeze before Beth Mead spots you with her face lighting up instantly.
“Oh! You made it!” she exclaims as she crosses the room towards you. Her gaze flicks to Leah as she silently pieces together what may have happened on the driveway. “Ohhh, you found her, did you?”
Leah huffs out a soft laugh. “Found her stuck on the driveway more like.”
Your cheeks burn immediately.
“O…oh, sorry,” you mumble, wanting to sink into the floor. “I just… got a bit lost.”
Beth waves it off with a grin.
“Don’t worry about it, half the squad gets lost the first time they come here. Grace once wandered straight into my neighbours garden while they were having a barbecue. I had to do so much apologising for that one.”
You relax, only by an inch but it's something until Beth notices the bag on your shoulder. Or more specifically, the Tupperware peeking out from inside it.
“You brought something?” she says brightly, leaning a little to try to see inside. “What’ve you got there?”
Your entire face goes hot.
“It’s… it’s nothing” you stammer, pulling the strap closer to your body as if to hide it. “Really. Just… well just something small.”
Beth’s grin widens. “You brought a gift?”
Now everyone eyes feel like they’re on you and your voice comes out soft, almost apologetic and stumbling over itself:
“I… I didn’t know what to bring. I’ve never… Well, I’ve never been invited to a party before. So I’m sorry if it's weird or wrong or too small.”
It's like the world goes still for a moment, and Beth's expression shifts instantly and kindness floods into her eyes.
“Oh Sweetheart” she says warmly “There's nothing wrong with that and I want Aggie to see this. Oi Aggie!”
She turns and calls over the crowd, voice carrying easily over the music.
“Aggs! Birthday girl! Come here a sec!”
Across the room, Aggie looks up from where she’s perched on the arm of a sofa.
“Coming!” she chirps, hopping down and weaving her way through different people towards you. She steps forward eager to see what you’ve brought and Beth leans in more until she is practically hovering on your shoulder. Your fingers tremble slightly as you pull the container from your bag.
But the moment you lift the lid, Beth lets out an immediate and in your opinion slightly dramatic gasp.
“Oh my god, what is that? It smells incredible.”
Your face flames so much you are convinced it must be bright red.
“It’s just an old family recipe, my Grandmother's favourite” you mumble, gripping the container as if it can shield you from the attention.
Beth opens her mouth to say something else but is interrupted by another voice.
“What, who? Is that lebkuchen?” she gasps as her eyes widen and she goes to pick one up “Who made these?!”
Before you can answer, someone (you aren’t even sure who) answers for you.
“Y/N made them, a family recipe.”
Sjoeke pauses before speaking again:
“A family recipe?” she repeats slowly, eyes narrowing on you as if she is analysing a suspect. “How did you learn to make it?”
You swallow, nerves fluttering in your stomach.
“My grandmother” you admit softly. “She… she grew up in Germany. Bavaria.”
Sjoeke’s eyes widen even more.
“Your Oma was German?! Oh my god, that makes so much sense. This smell is like, properly authentic. I knew it wasn’t that supermarket stuff.”
Before you can respond, another voice chimes in which you recognise as Keira’s. She comes sliding in as if she is following a cartoon smell trail.
“Oooo, what’s that?” she asks, eyes already locked onto the container. And Leah, who is still standing behind you, instantly groans.
“Of course you show up now” she says loudly. “Not when I needed help carrying everything but the bloody kitchen sink up the driveway. Not when I yelled your name. Oh no. but the second food appears? Suddenly you’ve got super hearing.”
Keira shoots her a guilty looking grin.
“I didn’t hear you.”
“Oh you heard me” Leah fires back. “You just ignored me.”
But Keira is already edging closer, eyes fixed on the cookies like they are treasure. Beth, meanwhile, has gone full gremlin. She snatches two cookies before anyone can say anything about it and stuffs one in her mouth.
Aggie gasps. “HEY! Those are for MY birthday!”
Beth speaks through a full mouth, managing to spray a few cookie crumbs as she does.
“Sharing is caring!”
Keira makes a grab for one but Beth spins around: Keira lunges again.
“Youv’e had THREE!”
“Get your own!”
“Theyre for Aggie, not you!”
Leah pinches the bridge of her nose.
“I can't take you two anywhere.”
Whilst they bicker and Beth tries to sprint away with the container, Sjoeke steps closer to you, still glowing.
“So your Oma taught you?” she asks softly. “You spent time in Germany?”
You nod, the embarrassment easing into something gentler.
“Every summer. We’d visit her village, go to the markets and bake together. She loved sharing the old recipes with me.”
Sjoeke smiles with genuine warmth.
“That's amazing and this…” she inhales again, blissfully. “This smells like my childhood.”
Her enthusiasm is infectious and before you know it she gestures towards an empty sofa. You settle in and soon find yourself talking effortlessly. The party carries on around you, but for the first time tonight you feel like you truly belong.
Lucy's relationship with Ona is blossoming, but Keira's name continues to follow them both around like a bad perfume. They're pretty healthy about it all things considered; Lucy and Keira are over, Ona isn't a jealous girl, and all three would do anything for the sake of their team. Ona would also do anything for the sake of her relationship, even if that means bringing in an unexpected third for a night to resolve some incredibly complex tensions.
✧ content warning; heavy smut, continuation of pt 1+2, 2k words of non-smut at the end
✧ chapter tags; threesomes, porn with plot, oral, rough sex, strap-ons, heavy dirty talk, mild degradation, hair-pulling, scratching, mentions of overstimulation, vibrators, mild hate sex/toxicity, dom/top!lucy, bottom!ona, switch/brat/sub!keira, consent + aftercare, fluff, mild emotional angst, luna endgame
also on ao3
“Obviously I want to make you feel good baby.” Ona says, moving aside so both of them can encourage Lucy to sit against the headboard this time.
“You know what she likes.” Ona glances at Keira, a devilish grin lifts the corner of her cheeks. They both look at Lucy as if she were the last thing they would ever taste.
“I haven’t forgotten."
—
It was a pulse-racing sight. Lucy hardly even trusted the control she had over her own hands, it was too much to handle, too intense to focus on any one thing.
She could ask Ona what was about to happen, but she doesn’t. She wants to be surprised, she wants to be tested, because that feeling she had when Ona and Keira were both beneath her was otherworldly. It possessed her mind and made her fucking manic with desire.
She relaxes back against the pillows, Ona and Keira sat upright in front of her. They stay quiet for a moment, before Ona’s hand caresses Keira’s bicep, and they join in a tender kiss, arms circling around each other.
Lucy watches with parted lips, a fixated gaze, unsure of just how to feel apart from so wet she might come without being touched.
She liked the softness, the femininity, of it all – the way Keira almost protectively grasped Ona, the way they felt up each other's skin with fragility and sanctity, carefully tracing and caressing.
Naturally, looking at Keira like this made her feel damned to the seventh hell. But god, god she is so stupidly attractive. She just can’t deny it. So her type. Even after all this time. Women like Keira and Ona are dangerous to her, because she has this pathetic, guttural desire to let them ruin her life.
Keira’s words echo in her head. I’m not letting Lucy fuck me.
Keira should know better than to tease her like that. Lucy wants what she can’t have, and tomorrow she wants at least one of the other two to have a performance issue in training that they can’t quite give the reason for.
She wants it to be Keira.
Meeting Ona for the first time at her best friend’s wedding felt like quite the fated affair. Ona was like the first daffodil of spring appearing right under her nose. The winter before had been the roughest of a lifetime.
Keira will never know just how much she broke Lucy’s heart. I loved you, the way that you were.
Ona was better in a multitude of ways. To Lucy’s standard at least. But Keira would always be Keira, she would always get beneath Lucy’s skin in a way that no one else could.
Lucy has packed those eight years of her life neatly away, tied them up with a ribbon, sent them to collect dust in the attic. Only once in a blue moon does she check on it, and sit with it, for a while. Thinking, wondering, regretting. But then Ona sweeps her up again, filling her life with the brightest and warmest of colours. Ona makes her feel brand new.
Yet, histories don’t seem to matter here. Not in this delicately aligned moment in time.
It’s just pretty fucking hot. Watching two girls make out and be intimate for her entertainment. She wasn’t that self-absorbed that she thought she in any way deserved this, in fact, she felt strangely overpowered by it.
It takes everything in her not to pull them both in with no plan but to kiss and grope and grind against each other. Fuck. That was filthy. Lucy bites down on the inside of her cheek, her thighs pressed together.
Keira’s hand is on Ona’s jaw, winning the plea for dominance, the wet sounds of their kisses making Lucy delirious, her clit ache. Ona grabs Keira by the ass, pulling her onto her thigh, and Keira grinds her bare core down.
She chokes out a high-pitched moan into Ona’s mouth, and Lucy can’t take it anymore. She slides her hand down between her legs, pressing two fingers to her clit, sucking in a breath at how ridiculously soaked and sensitive she is.
Lucy, in a feverish trance, watches Ona’s mouth devour Keira’s and vice versa, their tongues colliding and making a sloppy mess.
In the corner of Keira’s eye, she sees Lucy's fingers between her slightly parted legs, and she grinds down harder, gliding easily against the firm muscle from how wet she is. Smirking, she turns her face back into Ona, who has licked down to her neck.
Lucy silently wishes Keira would keep watching her. Instead, the blonde’s eyes are shut, sighing pleasantly as Ona tongues and nips at her skin.
“Who said you could do that, Lucia,” Ona murmurs into Keira’s neck between impassioned kisses, not even blinking but somehow knowing what Lucy was doing.
“Fuck, I can’t help it,” Lucy hates how desperate it comes out. Ona’s gorgeous brown eyes meet hers, her freckles complemented by the heavy flush of her skin, her smile, daring and knowing.
“Stop it. That’s our job.” Ona says after admiring Lucy fleetingly. Lucy pulls her fingers away and both girls let go of each other. The show was over, their attention is now on Lucy.
They crawl towards her, blood running hotter by the moment. Ona boldly parts Lucy’s legs and kneels between them, while Keira sits to her side. She takes Lucy’s hands, placing them on her hips.
Keira has a slightly nervous look to her, her eyes soft as she reads Lucy’s face for clues.
Keira doesn’t seem to know what she wants, but then again, neither does Lucy. All she knows is that she’s missed the way Keira tastes, and the way her ribs felt beneath her fingertips.
They look at each other with reverence, and Lucy’s pulse rings in her ears. Keira leans in finally, hands cupping Lucy’s cheeks, kissing her. Lucy’s hands soften on her hips.
Finally, a kiss she could actually feel. And boy did she feel it, down to her spirit and bones.
She’s being kissed in other places as well. Ona is on her abs, worshipping them with her tongue, and running her hands sensually over them. It was always Lucy worshipping Keira back in their day. She would spend hours on Keira’s stomach and thighs alone.
Ona’s desire to worship was different – it was strange, sometimes, because she and Keira fell into such succinct patterns and routines that it became uncomfortably apparent when that changed. When Ona does something Keira would have never done.
The kiss with Keira is slow, heavy with passion, and Ona’s touch is only making Lucy more desperate for an orgasm so intense it has her ashamed of her lack of control.
Receiving pleasure was a funny thing sometimes, but no one knew her body better than these two. They saw right through her. Mapped out on the back of their hands were her scars, her fears, her dreams, her fantasies. Lucy’s soul was bared to them both, and it was the most vulnerable she’s maybe ever felt having sex.
The guilt cuts her inside. It was so wrong. Kissing Keira, squeezing her hips, sinking her nails into the curve of her ass, it made the throbbing heat between her legs immeasurably worse.
She’d even often said to Keira, If I had one wish, it would be to relive our firsts all over again. Not my career, not my life, I wanna relive you.
This was that wish granted. Albeit, not even close to the way she expected it to be. There is no promise of a future here, only a hedonistic indulgence of the present.
“I need you,” she whispers to Keira suddenly, like it’s a threat, a confession of hatred not desire, so quiet that Ona can’t even hear. Keira lets her response become a ghost. She pulls away from Lucy, sitting back on her knees and looking down at her.
It’s like Lucy can hear her thoughts. I hate you. You’re a coward. Why did you ever leave me?
“You’re desperate.” Keira says with cold composure, but as if the realisation had just hit her.
“So fucking desperate.” It teases and it cuts. Keira is telling her she is pathetic for wanting this, pathetic for allowing this. She disarms Lucy in a matter of seconds, her voice dripping with seduction.
This version of Keira was sharp and conscious. Lucy was condemnably into it.
Ona lifts from between Lucy’s thighs, smug, moving down a bit so her face is finally in line with where Lucy needs her most. Her thighs separate instinctively.
Keira takes a moment of hesitation, before deciding to join Ona.
Lucy cannot even begin to conceive the image before her.
Keira, settling down on her stomach beside Ona, Lucy’s heavy thighs spread wide. Keira takes a good, daring look at her.
“Fucking hell, Luce, I’ve never seen you wetter.” Keira seems genuinely taken aback, and the words go right to Lucy’s core. Keira’s hunger is palpable.
But she holds herself back too much sometimes. The lack of courage to her convictions is her tragic flaw.
So it’s Ona’s tongue that flattens and drags up Lucy’s cunt, Keira’s bright eyes fixated on the sight. Lucy’s hips jerk forward, and a guttural moan falls from her throat. The back of her hand goes to her mouth, attempting to stifle it.
“Keira,” Lucy says. Ona looks up through her dark lashes, her gaze softening.
“Both of you.” Lucy breathes. “Both of you on me.”
Lucy can’t get the filthy image of both girls’ lips interlocking right there, covered in her come, out of her mind.
“Yeah?” Keira provokes lowly. “You want my tongue in your cunt, Lucy?”
She lowers her head as Ona repeats the motion firmly a few times, sinking her tongue between every fold.
Lucy’s heart fully stops and starts again.
“Don’t be shy.” Ona murmurs, brushing two fingers over Lucy’s clit before kissing Keira briefly, obscenely. Lucy watches it, mouth opening with a sound, obsessed. She grinds her quivering hips against Ona’s hand, the desperation consuming her.
After a wet separation, Ona and Keira both press their mouths against her wet heat, cheeks pressed against each other. Their tongues meet against her clit, and Lucy’s vision blurs. She sees stars. They both look up at her. She is– fuck.
She’s so fucked.
They both flick against it, almost trapping it between a messy kiss of tongues.
“You’re both so filthy.” Lucy groans, but it can hardly be degrading when she is at their mercy entirely.
It feels so fucking good. Her abdomen fizzles, her clit pulses the most incredible pleasure throughout her body, getting more stimulation than she can handle.
She alternates between seeing stars with her head thrown back and catching glimpses of what her girls are doing, but she feels when Ona takes over. She feels the rapid flicks, the intensity that only her girlfriend can reach.
Keira’s tongue is lower, somehow manoeuvred to be against her entrance, tracing and dragging over it. Lucy moans obscenely, her thighs spreading wider.
“Pull my hair. Show us what you want.” Keira inhales hurriedly, pushing Lucy up slightly so she can press her tongue as deep as it will go.
“You’re going to kill me.” Lucy rasps, doing as Keira said and grabbing both Ona and Keira by the hair. Tugging them impossibly closer. Harder than she intended. Ona groans, nails digging into her thigh harder.
“You’re a big girl. You can handle it.” Keira catches Ona’s mouth in a quick and dirty kiss. They then resume against her, Ona sucking her clit as Keira’s tongue works lower.
Lucy is so fucking close already. She is practically shaking. Shame prickles her senses but it’s pushed back by a guttural desperation.
“Fuck, fuck I can’t–” she pulls Keira’s hair hard, making the blonde moan into her cunt.
“Take it out on me.” Keira gasps as she catches her breath hurriedly.
Lucy doesn’t know what she means, but she is too high to process anything. Her cunt clenches around Keira’s tongue, but she is twitching and writhing too much for her to find a rhythm.
Ona scratches her thigh quick and hard. “Stay. still.” She says sharply. Lucy’s curses and her head reels, she catches Keira smirking.
But Lucy can’t stay still. She is trembling with passion, orgasmic delight pooling in her abdomen rapidly.
Just as her stomach tenses, and Keira pulls away, pushing Ona off by the neck as well, the stimulation ceases immediately and Lucy throws her head back.
“Oh my god,” she says in disbelief. She tries to push them both back against her, genuine anger in her eyes. Keira slaps her wrist.
“Beg for it.” Keira snarls.
“I’m not begging for you.” Lucy reasserts her grip on their hair and pulls it, trying to weaken them to push them back down. Only Ona reacts with a wince.
“Yes you fucking will. You want this, prove it.” Keira pointedly wipes her mouth with her two fingers and then tastes them. Lucy has to take a deep breath.
She looks to Ona, who has resumed touching her clit slowly. “You heard her,” She says indignantly.
Lucy’s heart is beating out of her chest. Her hips jerk but Ona holds them down with a strong hand.
Keira places a hand on the back of Ona’s neck, slowly pushing her back down.
“Don’t let her come.” Keira says lowly, and Ona gives a faint nod. Her tongue makes firm but disparagingly slow movements.
Lucy whimpers.
“Tell me what you want and I’ll do it.” Keira continues provoking, looking up at Lucy unyieldingly.
“Just fucking make me come.” Lucy's voice is trapped between command and submission, breathy and laced with weak demand. She moves a hand to Keira’s neck and presses down ever so slightly. Keira’s eyes become more impassioned, a hint of a smirk on her lips.
“Beg.” Keira’s two fingers tease her entrance. Before pushing in. Lucy is so completely soaked that they slip in with little effort.
“Fuck–“ she cries out.
“Go on, we’ll be your fuck-toys, just find your words.” Keira pushes her mind in every direction, but when her fingers make a swift, singular thrust, Lucy cannot bare it any longer.
“Keira, let me come, just do it. Please.” Lucy laments desperately, and Ona sucks her clit harder.
Keira makes rapid thrusts, her fingertips pressing inwards, making Lucy’s stomach flip.
“Please, oh my fucking god, holy shit,” Lucy’s muscles become numb, her orgasm building and sending her delirious. Instead of Keira’s hair, her hand finds the sheets, lest she quite literally bring Keira to tears from the pain.
“Fuck,” she cries, moaning vulgarly and coming harder than she maybe ever has. The release of pressure feels incredible, it wracks her down to a molecular level, pulling her apart deliciously.
“So fucking good,” she sobs, the sounds being pulled from the back of her throat without her even trying. Her arched back collapses against the mattress, delight pulsing through her, still grinding her hips against both Ona and Keira, shuddering each time another rush of pleasure hits her.
Ona pulls away, panting, exhaustion evident in her face, and so Keira finishes her off by slowing her fingers and lazily lapping at her clit. Lucy can’t feel a muscle.
“I’ve never seen you like that,” Ona says after wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, holding a smile of genuine disbelief. Her lips, cheeks, chin, are all wet with saliva and Lucy’s come. She has quite frankly, never looked hotter.
Lucy has no answer. Ona eats her out often and it’s always good, but tonight was otherworldly. She only lets out a small, breathless chuckle.
Keira pulls off, and Ona is the one to immediately tilt her head into another kiss, mouths devouring each other with each needy movement. All they can taste is Lucy, and each other, and it’s so vulgarly erotic.
Lucy was rendered speechless.
Then it hits her. Keira got the better of her.
That attitude, that brattiness, that aggression.
She was asking for it.
Lucy may have been weakened in the moment, but she wasn’t anymore. Ona and Keira finally part, giving each other a playful peck on the lips before sitting up to compose themselves. Ona crawls towards Lucy’s front, falling into her side and Lucy holds her tight with one arm. She kisses her temple.
Keira watches them both.
“Did you want something?” Lucy asks.
“No. I got what I wanted.” Keira feigns disinterest, running her hands through her hair, leaning back on her hands.
Lucy bites the inside of her lip. She can see the unmistakable spaciness of need in Keira’s gaze.
“You’re a brat.” Lucy remarks, her voice quiet but intentional.
“Nah, I’m good thank you.” Keira answers coolly.
“You don’t get away that easily.” Lucy’s tone only shifts the smallest bit, still borderline playful, but Keira knows how Lucy plays.
“I don’t know what you mean.” Keira says with stupid innocence, playing it up with a smug grin.
“You know exactly what I mean.” Lucy’s temper grows in the tight part of her chest, her eyes darkening.
“You loved it. Don’t lie.” Ona voice is threaded with dirty, playful affection.
“Don’t you start,” Lucy murmurs, sitting up.
“But it’s so fun seeing you like this.” Ona runs her hand down the sweat on Lucy’s back.
“It’s fun seeing you be pathetic.” Keira hisses, her eyes narrowed and greedily taking in Lucy’s body once more.
“I’m many things,” Lucy scoffs. “But I’m not pathetic. Not for you.” She says it calmly, but swiftly grabs Keira’s biceps, pulling her forward. Keira gasps from the unexpected roughness.
“Yeah. Wipe that smirk right off your face.” Lucy flips her, throwing her down onto her back and holding her by the shoulders. She waits a moment, assessing Keira’s reaction. She would stop, if it was too much. But she knows damn well Keira is insatiable when she’s being a brat.
“Showing off in front of Ona isn’t going to get you what you want.” Lucy cautions sharply, low and slow, taking in Keira this time, her perfect tits to the raw marks on her neck.
“Is it not?” Keira answers. “What do I want then?” She remains composed under Lucy’s cold control, even if her heart is pounding. Lucy takes great pride in getting to say what she says next.
“You want me and Ona to ruin you. Because you like being used. And you won't admit how wet I still make you.” She punctuates each you with a hard squeeze of Keira’s shoulders, the final sentence spat out with toxic cockiness.
Keira looks up at her, wide-eyed, the smirk indeed faltering.
“Speechless baby?” Lucy teases, her grin sly and hungry.
“Lucy…” Ona puts a hand on her shoulder. Lucy’s expression immediately breaks, head snapping back to look at Ona.
“I won’t do it.” Lucy says low and soft.
Ona gives her a confused expression. “Do what?”
“I won’t do anything to her. ”
Even Keira glances at them both with uncertainty.
“No.” Ona says, her voice relaxed and gentle. “I want you to.” She says it like a challenge, and Lucy blinks.
A silence descends upon them.
“Only with your permission.” Lucy murmurs earnestly, her grip tightening on Keira.
“You have it.” Ona says with sincerity in her eyes, and Lucy feels torn in both directions. She looks back down at Keira, taking in the sight.
“Will you behave? Or are you too much of a coward to admit what you really want?” Lucy provokes her back.
“I’m not the coward here.” Keira stares at her blankly. It extends beyond the immediate context, Lucy can hear the intent behind it. She has felt the intent behind everything Keira has done tonight. Each movement, a reflection of messy feelings and unspoken words that have lingered stagnant for far too long.
“Then tell me.” Lucy leans down tauntingly, her hand hard on Keira’s chest, etching up towards her throat.
“Tell me you want me still. Even though you look at me like you hate me so much.” Lucy says, her body tense.
Keira swallows. Ona shifts, pursing her lips.
“I don’t hate you,” Keira says, eyes and voice softening, as if those words are sacrilege. She grabs the back of Lucy’s thigh and pushes it between her legs. Forcing the contact.
Lucy pauses, before chuckling in defeat.
“You’ve always played dirty, haven’t you Kei.” She braces her forearms on either side of Keira’s face, swinging her leg over.
“Only as dirty as you.”
Lucy presses her stomach to Keira’s, kissing her filthily, degradingly.
“Naughty girl.” She slaps Keira’s thigh, making her squeal.
“Thinking you can stop me from coming. Thinking you have control.” Lucy steps into a different version of herself entirely. Keira wants to be pushed, so Lucy will push her.
“I-I didn’t-“ Keira falls apart in an instant, just as Lucy knew she would.
“I’m going to fuck you. Ona’s going to ride your face. Sound good?” Lucy asks cockily, her confidence loud in every gesture she makes.
Mhm… Keira nods.
Another, more gentle, slap to her thigh.
“Words.”
“Yes. I want that.” Keira confesses, and Lucy raises her eyebrows, checking in a second time outside of her persona. Keira nods to that as well.
She glances at Ona. “Be a good girl and take care of her,” Lucy commands, effortlessly moving off of Keira, and Ona immediately lies beside Keira, pulling her in for a heated kiss, palming her breasts firmly.
“I like this side of you.” Ona grins, her touch strong with sensuality.
“Lucy loves a brat. When she’s not being one herself.” Ona whispers, pressing herself up against Keira’s lithe frame.
“Heard that,” Lucy murmurs.
Behind them, she is reattaching the strap-on, a different dildo this time, same length, slightly thicker. If Keira genuinely found it too much, she would just use her fingers instead. But if memory doesn’t deceive her…this will do it just right.
Wearing the strap always sent Lucy on a bit of a power trip. There was no denying who was in charge when the harness was on.
Lucy pulls Ona gently back by the hair, making her whimper.
“I told you where I want you. You heard me,” Lucy mocks Ona mean and playfully for what she had said earlier, and Ona lowers her gaze.
Keira’s breath hitches at the sight of Lucy’s strap, her eyes widening. Ona looks uncertain.
“Come on then,” Keira encourages, taking Lucy’s command in her stride.
Ona finds herself again, and with swift confidence, she straddles Keira’s shoulders, mere inches from Keira’s mouth. Eating Lucy out had worked her up all over again, it wouldn’t take her long.
But she is still hesitant, gentle about it, holding onto the headboard behind Keira as she positions herself so she’s not putting too much weight on her. Keira dips her tongue in, hands pulling her closer, softly sighing at the taste.
ii. walsh
Keira quickly realises this was quite intentional. They can’t see each other this way. Keira is even more unarmed.
She can only feel. But everything to do with some Lucy Bronze is committed to her memory like etchings into stone. Love’s permanence terrified her, sometimes.
She feels Lucy’s strong hands on her thighs, spreading them. Lucy gives her clit a few rough brushes with her thumb, and she mewls against Ona.
“Beg for it Keira.” Lucy says, mockingly, Keira can hear the arrogant grin on her face.
“Beg for my cock. Tell me where you want it.” Lucy pushes the toy up through Keira’s soaked cunt, making the blonde shudder and whine just from the thought of it inside of her.
She doesn’t do the best job at finding a rhythm against Ona, but Ona seems pretty satiated as it is. Just the sensation of Keira’s tongue is pleasant enough to keep her going. Keira pulls her back briefly.
“I need it Luce. So badly. Fuck me with it.” She begs obscenely, her body trembling with inflamed desire. She spreads her legs further, oblivious to the way Lucy is close to making a sound just from looking at her.
“Right in here? Do you think you deserve it? I’m not sure you do.” Lucy moves her fingers from the strap to her wet entrance, pressing them inside.
Memories cascade through Keira’s head like an unwanted hit of nostalgia. Lucy’s hands still feel the same as they always did. She could recognise even the faintest touch, it was all sown into her irrevocably. It should make her uncomfortable, even uncertain, but she is only more turned on by the bodily recognition. Lucy is safe. She can let go with Lucy.
And she gives in, so easily. Lucy touches her, and she comes alive.
“Yes– I made you come, I’ll make Ona come, just put it inside.” Keira is gone. She can’t remember the last time she was such a– so crude. She pulls Ona forward to lap at her cunt harder, messily.
Even Lucy can’t handle it anymore, she steadies herself with a heavy hand on Keira’s hip, and pushes some of the toy in. Keira gasps.
“Oh my god Luce you’re so big.” She stutters out frantically, her nails digging into Ona’s thighs.
“Too big?” Lucy questions out of genuine concern, not moving just yet.
“No.” Keira’s head falls back for a moment. “Just go slow.”
She is busy savouring the feeling of being stretched so deliciously. Ona has her head against her arm clutching the headboard, and she shoots a smile down at Keira. She will never be able to look at her the same again, that’s for sure.
“I know you can take it.” Lucy says, her other hand caressing Keira’s thigh softly. She takes a minute to work the strap in, making shallow thrusts each time.
Ona’s thighs get tenser, and it’s a complete sensory overload for Keira.
“Fuck,” she moans between languid flicks of Ona’s clit. She feels she isn’t doing that impressive a job, but Ona is panting already, her legs struggling to keep herself up.
With a firm thrust, she pushes the strap to its base. “Holy shit Keira.” Lucy says in genuine amazement, their skin touching in far too many places. Her breath is heavy, having to hold herself back from pushing her thighs up and fucking her hard. Adrenaline rushes through her.
“Do it.” Keira pants between sucking Ona’s clit hard, her body crying out for Lucy’s control. To feel the pain, the pleasure, the delight of being at her mercy.
Lucy doesn’t need to be told twice. She pulls out and makes a sharp thrust back in. Keira cries out, moaning muffled by Ona. It is piercing, a heavy pressure, but a soul-biting satisfaction.
All she can think of is Lucy and Ona. Hot. Wet. Intimate. Filthy.
“Just ride her tongue, Oni, don’t hold back.” Lucy is watching the way Ona picks up the rock of her hips, grinding against Keira’s tongue and groaning blissfully to herself.
“Don’t you stop to ask for a thing.” Lucy says harsher, before squeezing Keira’s thigh and spreading it further, angling her hips just right to pull the best reactions.
Keira is a mess, her tongue flat as Ona puts more of her weight on her. Ona’s sounds get pitchier, she presses her face against her forearm, whimpering, and comes with an exasperated set of moans. Not as intensely as her earlier orgasms, but it makes her shudder nonetheless.
“Good girl,” Lucy praises, picking up her own pace significantly, watching Keira’s tight cunt stretch around the toy, the vulgar sounds making her stomach clench.
Keira is drunk on sex and pleasure, she hardly even sees where Ona goes when she lifts off.
“Harder,” she whimpers, finally seeing Lucy and feeling a hit of vulnerability. Lucy leans forward, holding Keira’s shoulders as the new position somehow allows her to get even deeper.
Keira feels her everywhere, she feels entirely consumed, and Lucy watches it all unfurl with devotional obsession.
“Still not enough?” She practically growls into Keira’s ear, who shudders. Her hands circle Lucy’s strong back, digging her nails in. One of Lucy’s biggest kinks.
Next to them, Ona has frantically grabbed the vibrator, settling beside Keira and pressing it hard between her legs, mindlessly rocking against it. She can’t stop herself from getting off again, even when the overstimulation makes it near-painful.
“Ah- fuck, you’re so deep. I love it.” Keira reaches down to her clit, needing it to offset the intensity of Lucy’s rough strokes. Ona’s eyes make her feel exposed, a true product of her darkest fantasies. She groans with each quick, pounding thrust.
“You’re such a–.” The words get lost in Lucy’s mouth, too focused on steadying her rhythm, her face inches from Keira’s neck.
“Say it.” Keira demands breathlessly, her nails raking down Lucy’s back which makes Lucy moan lewdly. Keira loves the sound, even more because Lucy doesn’t like to be vocal if she can avoid it.
Lucy ignores her request.
“Don’t be a pussy, say it.” Keira grabs Lucy’s chin, forcing her to face her.
“Slut.”
“You’re a slut.” Lucy snarls as she fucks Keira harder into the mattress, lifting a bit so she has a better view of Keira’s body. She is not herself, she is completely taken and twisted, high on the act.
Keira is reduced to a mess, clenching hard around Lucy as she simultaneously struggles to take it, and needs more. Each thrust stimulates places she didn’t even know she could reach, the tip dragging along her sensitive inner walls and building a pressure that feels fucking incredible.
“You put on such a show just so I could wreck you.” Lucy is becoming delirious, the strap hitting her clit perfectly, making her chase that feeling, Keira’s sanity getting lost in the process.
“Lucy, oh god, fuck,” she slurs her words, her moans obscene.
For the first time tonight, Ona feels just a little bit jealous of Keira.
“Such a greedy thing, you are. It’s never enough.” Lucy is fixated on Keira in a way she hasn’t allowed herself to be all night, and now she is indulging in something so forbidden, it overrides all her senses.
Keira looks fucking beautiful in the throes of pleasure.
Lucy’s breath is shallow, but not even from exhaustion. Lucy doesn’t get exhausted. She is just buzzing, down to the bone, with the thrill and adrenaline.
“Give me that.” Lucy looks at Ona demandingly, degradingly, signalling for her to hand over the vibrator. Ona gives her a pleading look, but the command in Lucy’s eyes tells her that ‘no’ isn’t an option.
Ona hands it over to Lucy, who immediately pulls Keira’s wrist away from pressing down on her clit, replacing it with the toy.
Ona squeezes her thighs together as she turns to face Keira, watching the blonde’s expression hungrily, mesmerised.
“Do you think she’s close?” Lucy picks up her pace again, looking at Ona, chasing the friction of her own clit against the strap.
Ona has no words. “I don’t know,” she practically whimpers.
“I’m close, fuck, I’m gonna come Lucy, Lucy.” The vibrator hurls her towards climaxing, intensifying the warm, agonising pleasure pooling in her stomach. She seems terrified to orgasm, but Lucy doesn’t let up, fucking her hard and fast.
Keira’s body is fully trembling, her nails raking down Lucy’s back, her moans guttural and sinful.
The pain makes Lucy come with a harsh jerk. She grinds down against the base of the strap, riding out each euphoric hit, making it shift deep inside of Keira and stimulate places Keira didn’t even know could be touched.
“Come for me, darling.” Lucy groans, making a few heavy thrusts as the tension wound around Keira like a vice snaps, and her orgasm crashes over her aggressively.
“Lucy, oh my god, fuck, don’t stop,” Her moans echo throughout the room, Lucy not letting up. Ona burns all over. Holy shit her girlfriend was a freak.
Keira is gone. Lucy continues to fuck her, but just like Ona, she reaches her limit. She can’t even find the words in her throat to say it. Like bodily instinct, she taps Lucy’s hand three times, and Lucy immediately stills.
Keira’s muscles collapse, her chest heaving.
There are tears in her eyes. She let Lucy ruin her. Just like she always has.
Ona immediately catches the vulnerability, cups Keira’s face tenderly. “Beauty…” she murmurs, kissing Keira's cheek as Lucy pulls out, making Keira wince.
She remains suspended in disbelief, the room spinning around her. She only vaguely feels Lucy move off of her, collapsing on her stomach. Lucy closes her eyes and catches her rapid breath.
“Are you okay?” Lucy places a hand on Keira’s shoulder, the overwhelm consuming them both.
“Yeah. That was good.” Keira says with a heavy exhale, but Lucy can see just how much that took from her. She takes one of Keira’s hands and kisses her knuckles, before sitting back up to remove the strap. Lucy always recovered quickly.
Ona moves in closer, resting her forehead on Keira’s shoulder and draping an arm over her stomach, equally exhausted, emotionally tongue-tied.
Lucy gets off the bed, conveniently needing to go to the other side to drop the strap down, before lying behind Ona, taking her girlfriend's free hand from behind.
They lay in silence for a good while.
Lucy has many thoughts, all racing through her brain faster than she can catch them.
Keira and Ona have very few, mostly content to just lie there until they feel human. The sexiness wears off, and Keira feels a twinge of sadness at the things she and Lucy had said to each other.
“That was something I never expected to happen.” Lucy is the first to speak, her hands mindlessly playing with Ona’s long hair.
“Tell me again.” Keira exhales finally, the shakiness of her muscles dissipating.
“Are you both okay? For sure? We didn’t go too far?” Lucy’s voice has returned to its normal tenderness. She worries most, as the one who did the most action. She traces the tattoos on Ona’s back with the softest touch. I’m the hero of this story.
“I am. Promise. Are you?” Keira lifts up to look at Lucy behind Ona.
“Me? I’m good. ‘Course I am.” She offers a faint smile, and Keira falls back to the mattress. Truth be told, Lucy was hit quite intensely with the drop that comes after being dominant, but she keeps that to herself. She’ll get over it.
Lucy’s face presses into Ona’s back, seeking warmth and comfort. They remain there for some minutes.
Someone’s phone rings.
Keira bursts out laughing. “Who the fuck has that ringtone?”
Ona sighs, burying her face in the pillow with a chuckle. “Ignore it.”
But the phone rings again a minute later, so with an exasperated sigh she sits up, finding it having somehow ended up on the floor.
“Oh shit,” she pulls on Lucy’s hoodie, lifting the camera high and leaving the room. “¿Hola? ¿Eh? Estuve ocupada!”
Silence descends upon the two as Ona’s voice becomes distant.
Lucy looks at Keira, who pretends not to notice.
“You look forlorn.”
And Keira does. Incredibly so.
“Oh no, I’m alright,” Keira says very genuinely, her expression not shifting from its usual calm apathy. Lucy knows her better than this though.
She bites back her reservations and wraps her arms around Keira, turning her onto her side, spooning her tightly.
“Come on,” Lucy whispers tenderly, kissing the back of Keira’s neck. Keira shudders, her skin prickles, but her hand instinctively goes to Lucy’s, meeting over her abdomen.
“Was it too much? You’re allowed to say if it was.” Lucy asks again, pressing her nose into one of Keira’s tattoos this time. A strawberry, one she had gotten as a nod to Lucy.
“No. Just a lot.” Keira confesses softly, using every bit of willpower she has to stop her emotions from overcoming her. Thank god Lucy can’t see her face.
Lucy hums in acknowledgement, holding Keira’s stomach, knowing she used to like that. The sweet nothings don’t sound right anymore, but Keira can let it be for a moment.
She closes her eyes, and the world stops for them. It’s just her and Lucy. Nothing else.
Into the prolonged silence comes a confession, Keira’s voice cracking at the end, throat raw and torn.
“You’re my best friend, Luce.”
Lucy’s breath hitched in her throat, the confession hitting her like a dagger through the heart.
“What do you mean?” She stammers out, but quickly regrets the lofty response.
“I mean what I said. You’re my best friend. I don’t hate you. I never could.” Keira sounds so…innocent again, so virtuous. Lucy squeezes her tighter.
"I know you couldn’t.” She murmurs, and Keira goes quiet.
“I love you. I always will." Lucy adds, physically sensing years of rejected emotion leaving her gut and entering her chest. They float into place like the missing pieces of a puzzle, no encouragement, no pressure needed.
“You’re the greatest friend I’ve ever had. We’ve done it all together. I know– times have changed, but I don't want those memories…all those years, to feel sour, or to feel like I wasted love."
It’s painfully honest, almost frantic. Like their time in this liminal space, where they’re feeling tender and truthful, will never come again.
But the sweetest of words have the bitterest taste.
Keira turns over, facing Lucy, and they both suck in a breath.
"It's not wasted love." Keira answers softly, looking into Lucy's eyes and seeing nothing but the purest of human connections. Someone who will forever know her.
"Our chapter is done. But you needed our chapter to understand the next one. It's just how it goes. I have no regrets. Even when we...probably should have moved on, we stayed, and we learnt something from it." Keira continues, and unexpectedly every moment of the evening riles up in her chest, the seabed shifts, threatening a tsunami. Keira never cries, rarely feels this way, it’s quite terrifying really.
"Since when were you so philosophical?" Lucy says with a strained resolve. She smiles fondly, through slightly misty eyes.
"Dunno. Guess I've just had a lot of time to think about us." Keira turns onto her back. She can’t look at Lucy anymore.
Lucy waits a beat to check that Ona is still in the other room. She speaks hardly above a whisper.
"Did tonight change anything for you?"
Keira exhales.
"I mean, obviously." She answers with a half-there smile.
"No but like...do you...Did it change your feelings towards us?" Lucy clarifies with hesitation.
Keira takes a moment to think.
"Not in that way, if that's what you're asking." She continues staring at the ceiling. Scared of what she might see on her ex's face when she admits that fact. "It just...clarified things for me."
"Like what?"
"That I can't deny how much I still care about you. But I don't want to be with you. And I'm glad we're not. And I'm glad you have Ona. It feels right."
Lucy presses her lips together, watching Keira intently. She isn’t sure what answer she wanted to hear, but she can take that.
"If it helps, I definitely don't want to be with you either." Lucy says, and Keira scoffs. It’s true.
Mostly.
“I did wonder if you only came that hard because you still loved me.” Lucy adds with a sheepish grin, a bit too confessionally.
Keira pauses, before glancing at Lucy.
“Your ego precedes you, darling.” She says calmly.
Lucy cannot argue further. She just finds Keira’s hand between their bodies and holds it, thinking.
“What are you feeling right now?” Keira asks.
"Dunno. Just reflecting on how weird it was. You and Ona together…it was hot, don’t get me wrong. I’m just glad she likes you so much…because you’re still so special to me." Lucy says, a little softer. She knew Keira and Ona got along, but Ona’s keenness tonight somehow only made her more attractive to Lucy.
"Don't get sappy with me now. You’ll regret it all tomorrow." Keira teases, and Lucy shakes her head. She wouldn’t regret it. She’s sure of it.
"But Keira…you'll find someone too. Guarantee." Lucy doesn’t let Keira make humour out of the moment, she isn’t done just yet.
"I know." She answers quietly but certainly. "But to be honest...I'm enjoying being single for a bit."
Guilt crosses Lucy’s mind.
"I feel like I had a part to play in that. I had the chance to find myself before finding my person whereas you were so young when we started dating." Lucy says, a thought that has plagued her many times. It really was a night of confessions.
"Nah. I chose you and I don't regret it. We had a good run Luce." Keira says sincerely after a moment, finally looking at Lucy again. A good run. Lucy envies her apathy.
"We did." She agrees fondly.
"Ona is sweet. You'd better treat her well." Keira makes Lucy grin.
"I will. I really love her." That part comes easily. The whole loving Ona of it all.
Lucy watches the way Keira’s face doesn’t even falter. They had come a long way. A faint, cheeky smile creeps up on Keira’s cheeks.
"I'm not into her, by the way."
"I didn't think you were." Lucy says honestly, amusingly surprised by the confession.
"No, seriously.” Keira chuckles softly. “ I don't want this to ever keep you up at night. She's hot and we had a good time, but…you lot are too much for me, she's yours." Keira teases with soft affection. She has always been very earnest, direct, saying the things that Lucy herself couldn’t find the words for in the moment.
"Good." Lucy answers simply, and Keira doesn’t look back at her. Their fingers, still faintly intertwined.
They sit in comfortable silence until Ona finally comes back in, a little surprised to see them both still there.
“Sorry, my brother, usually he only calls if something really bad happens.” Ona sits on the edge of the bed.
“Has it?” Lucy asks worriedly.
“No. He just wanted to annoy me.” Ona says with a smile to Lucy, and they inch closer to each other.
"Fucking hell it's twelve already." Keira sighs, having grabbed her phone from the pocket of her shorts that she pulls back on promptly. They have training the next day, they really didn’t think this one through.
"Stay here." Ona says quickly. "You're not walking back at this time. Not in this neighbourhood."
Lucy and Keira both give her an uncertain look.
"In the spare bedroom. Assuming that’s…" She fades off awkwardly, and Keira laughs. Lucy purses her lips and tilts her head down humorously.
Keira tries to resist, but with some persuasion, gives in. Clothes get pulled on, and Lucy heads into the ensuite bathroom.
Ona takes Keira to the other bedroom, offering her some clean sweatpants and an old shirt.
"Thanks," Keira says, giving Ona a gentle hug which feels surprisingly sheepish considering what they’d done.
"Thank you for tonight. It was…fun." Ona affirms, keeping the close contact for a moment more. She almost feels bad that Keira is sleeping alone, especially after such an intense night.
"No problem? I don't know the correct response for that." Keira replies light-heartedly. "I enjoyed it too though. You are a lot of fun. I just said to Lucy, I'm glad she found you.” Keira adds with soft honesty, making Ona smile.
“I almost think you're too good for her." Keira teases.
"Better too good than not good enough, right?" Ona answers. Keira nods, stepping back. Ona still can’t quite read her, but maybe that was the allure of Keira. She only ever spoke what she really, truly meant.
With a brief goodnight, Ona waves her off, and closes the door behind her. She stands in the hallway for a moment, and a strange uncertainty hits her in the gut.
When she returns to the bedroom, Lucy is in bed, lights off, AC humming in the background.
After brushing her teeth and washing her face, Ona slips into Lucy’s arms silently, and she is held close. They don’t speak a word, just enjoying being the two of them again. Safe familiarity.
Then, just when Lucy’s mind begins to quiet, comes a question that pierces right through her.
“Is it…still me?”
Lucy’s eyes shot open, blinking into the darkness.
Her response becomes an empty ghost.
Ona’s chest tightens painfully, her heart stopping, her world–
Until she feels Lucy pull her finger up to her cheek.
Ona feels dampness beneath Lucy’s eyes. She doesn’t know what it means.
“I love you so much.” Lucy’s voice is raw and full of sudden sadness.
“I would never let you go. Ever. I would…I would lose myself if I did.” Lucy says, sounding on the brink of tears.
“Lucy…it’s okay…” Ona instinctively comforts, pressing her body closer. Clinging onto Lucy.
“No really. I haven’t loved you like I should have. And maybe you think I have but I haven’t.” Lucy is shaking slightly, her breath getting caught in her throat with every word.
“Oh honey…”
“Te amo mas que todo. I choose you always, and I don’t deserve you but I’m gonna try…I’m gonna try to earn that.”
Ona stays quiet.
“You are too cruel to yourself.” She finally exhales and Lucy sighs.
“I just love you Ona. You’re the best thing in my life.”
"Yo tambien te amo, mi corazon." Ona whispers, touched by Lucy’s tenderness.
And just like that, the stratosphere of Keira Walsh and Lucy Bronze closes in on itself once more. It is nowhere to be found. Not in this room, not in any other. It is tucked away, safe and silent in the dimly lit part of Lucy’s heart where it cannot be touched nor changed.
Hours pass. Ona is asleep. Lucy feels it sitting heavy in her chest. A weight, pulling her into the mattress. She jolts suddenly out of her semi-conscious state, thinking she is truly sinking.
Ona turns over lethargically, burying her face in Lucy’s chest. Lucy holds her tight, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
“Okay?” Ona whispers sleepily against Lucy’s skin.
“Of course.” Lucy stares into the darkness.
—
Keira sneaks out the next morning, long before Lucy and Ona are awake. She aches, throat dry with thirst, and lingering with an unsavoury taste.
The sun feels good this morning.
Hidden behind ten or so other texts stacked in her notifications bar is a short one, received at four in the morning.
Lucy
Are you happy, Keira?
Keira stops in the street to text back.
Yes. Are you?
A/N; thank you so much if you read the entirety of this little passion project of mine! This was only meant to be one chapter but there was so much juice in the concept, I couldn't limit myself to just that. The ending fell into place quite naturally, and I've kind of left it up to interpretation. Thanks to anyone who has read, do leave a comment or a message, and I hope you enjoyed! :)
Midfield masterclass | Keira Walsh x Lioness!Reader
5k celebration prompt: "You really don’t realize just how many people love you, do you?"
Woso masterlist | Words: 1k
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You were over the moon happy about the win, a bright smile lit up your face as you walked into the tunnel. Practically bouncing your way into the locker room, hyped up on excitement after winning your match. But then your eyes fell on your girlfriend.
Keira’s expression was a stark opposite to yours. She had a serious expression on her face, and was sitting slumped down in her cubby. She seemed off, but you didn’t want to disturb her too much, as she was often going over the game in her head. So you let her be for now.
When boarding the bus, you found yourself sitting down next to Keira. She looked up at you a little confused because you usually didn’t sit together, but the worried look in your eyes said enough for her to figure out why you sat next to her.
She seemed to still be entirely somewhere else with her head, so you nudged her shoulder lightly. “You alright?” Your voice is soft, not wanting the rest of the bus to hear. This was just between the two of you, a private conversation in a not so private area, so you didn’t expect much depth in her response. At first she just nodded, but when you kept looking at her, waiting for a verbal response, she added, “Yeah, fine.” Her answer didn’t sound convincing, but you let it slide for now.
However, back at the hotel, you took her hand and walked her somewhere private. “What’s going on, love? I don’t like seeing you this way.” Keira just shrugged. “What way?”
You thought for a moment, how could you best word it?
“Like you’re carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders.” You said finally. Keira's expression changed slightly, a little hurt flickered over her face. Not being of what you said, but because what you said was exactly like she was feeling.
“I didn't have a good game. I was all over the place, and gave away too many balls.” She said with a sigh. “I guess the people online were right.” Your eyes shot up to hers at the last part that she shared, but before you could say anything, Keira continued. “Before you say anything, yes I know we said we weren’t going to look on socials as it could be a distraction and not good for our mental health. It’s not like I intended to, I just went to post and saw one comment, then one turned into a deep dive. I know I shouldn’t have, but I’ve been in my head about it ever since. And clearly it got to me to the point of underperforming out there tonight.”
You brought her in for a hug, when her tears threatened to escape her eyes. “Oh love, come here.” You said as you held her tight. "You really don’t realize just how many people love you, do you?"
Keira stepped slightly out of your hold to look at you with a questioning look in her eyes. “For those few negative nobodies, there are thousands of fans who will love and support you no matter what. If you're able to filter out the bad, there is so much good out there. Play for them, they will know you did your best and be proud of you for that. I am one of those. Sure, sometimes we don't have the game we wanted to have, but we can try our damn hardest to play well.”
The corners of Keira's lips tugged up slightly. “What?” You asked and her smile grew wider. “Nothing, you just get so passionate.” At that you smile wide as well. “Of course, I am very passionate about you and your wellbeing.”
Now she's the one bringing you in for a hug, “Thank you. Thank you for always being there for me when I'm down.”
“No need to thank me for that, I will always be there for you. The good or the bad, I will be right by your side.” You press a kiss to her cheek. “Come on, let's watch a movie or something.”
After a rest day and some training sessions, it was time to play again. You and Keira had spoken more on how the negative comments had affected her and how she was going to try to ignore them and play for the people that love and support her.
You watched her shine on the pitch that match. Her performance was exceptional. She knew it too, she was shining. You even found her smiling from ear to ear after the final whistle blew and you won the match.
The first person Keira found on the pitch after the final whistle was you. “Look at you shine.” You say with your arms wide open. “Thanks to you.” She said as she hugged you tight. “That was all you, darling.” You countered. You might’ve said some motivating words, but the performance was all her, you wanted no credit in that. She deserved all the credit for her own hard work.
“Excuse me, sorry to interrupt.” One of the staff members said as they walked up to you. “Keira, can you come with me?” Your girlfriend looked confused. “Sure, but what for?”
She must've not heard the announcement over the speakers earlier, you thought. “Darling, your midfield masterclass won you the player of the match.” You said proudly. Keira couldn’t believe what you had just said, so she looked over to the staff member for confirmation. “You sure did. Come on, they want some pictures and a quick video.”
You give her another quick hug, before saying, “Go get your trophy.” With a big smile on your face. You were very happy that Keira was able to get out of her head and leave the negative comments behind her, that she was able to focus on her football and with that got to show not only the haters, but also herself what she is capable of.
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Hi my lovelies. So, I’m on a bit of a Jessie kick at the moment and this pics are so cute ahah. I hope you enjoy.
Like Old Times
Jessie Fleming x Reader
Description: you and Jessie go on a date.
You could tell that Jessie was anxious. She was too in her head, too preoccupied. You looked at her from your place by the counter, arms folded across your chest as you studied her. She was staring intently at the table, hands fidgeting in her lap, teeth gnawing on her lower lip.
“J?” You called, watching as she started to scratch her nail lightly along her thumb. “Hey, hey.” You rushed forward, hands finding hers to stop her nervous habit.
She blinked, jumping at your presence. Jessie looked up at you, brown eyes wide. “J?”.
“Y-” she cleared her throat, shaking her head a little. “Yeah?”
“Talk to me,” you sighed softly, hopping up onto the table, keeping her one hand in both of yours. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, hmm?”
She sighed. Sometimes it could be very annoying how well you knew her. You had been dating for years now - having met back in California. You were a photographer for the university, having been assigned to the women’s football team, you ended up at more than one of her training sessions and almost all of her games. It wasn’t long until you started flirting, hoping that she would reciprocate. After months of nothing in return you had almost given up. It took a very awkward conversation just before the winter holidays for you to realise that she was just a shy girl who could be very oblivious at times. From there … it was history.
“Nothin’,” she dismissed, shrugging and looking anywhere but at you.
“J ….” You waited, cocking an eyebrow at her. “C’mon,” you squeezed her hand shaking it slightly to draw her attention back to you.
Reluctantly, she met your gaze before flitting away again. “I … they want …” she paused, swallowing the lump in her throat. You flipped her hand over, tracing a nail along her palm. You knew that she wasn’t going to talk with if you were looking directly at her.
“Photos.” She eventually whispered. You frowned, not quite understanding what she was getting at. “They want photos …” she took a deep breath. “They want me to do a photoshoot … for the club.”
It was no secret that Jessie avoided the camera like the plague. She hated being in front of the camera, often taking great lengths to avoid being on screen. “You don’t want to?” You guessed.
She sighed. “It’s not that I … don’t … want to. But I don’t want to do it either.” She leant forward, resting her cheek on your thigh. You smiled sadly, moving one of your hands to smooth down her hair and scratch lightly at her scalp.
“Is it the usual photoshoot?” You asked, a small flicker of an idea forming in your mind. “Like standard media shots?” Your fingers stilled, and Jessie let out a pitiful whine. “Sorry,” you mumbled, picking up the movement again.
“No,” she nuzzled your thigh, eyes slipping shut. “They want it to be a ‘casual’ one apparently. Like me just out and about. Me at training, me at match days. Apparently they’re doing a meet the squad type thing so I can’t even not do it.”
With every word that she spoke, the idea grew more and more in your mind, it became clearer with each passing sentence, the lines sharper, the vision taking hold.
“Can I ask you something?” Jessie sat up, leaning back to look at you probably.
“Of course, bubba,” she said seriously.
“I have an idea … and I want to know your opinion on something ….” It was your turn to be nervous now.
“What is it?” All of her worries disappeared instantly, taking both your hands in hers.
“They want a casual shoot right?” She nodded. “Obviously, we’d have to check with the club and stuff but … how would you feel if …” you swung your leg out to brush against hers. “What if I took the photos?” You waited with bated breath. “Obviously, if you don’t want to, I’m not, like, forcing you or anything and please don’t feel like you have to …” you rushed out, starting to ramble.
“Bubs,” Jessie paused. “That sounds …” you closed your eyes, waiting for the rejection. “Wonderful.”
Your eyes flew open, gaze landing on hers immediately. She was smiling softly at you. “Wait, really?” You couldn’t help the small smile that danced on your lips.
“Yes, really.” She rolled her eyes fondly. “It’ll be like old times.”
It was true. Back when you had finally started dating, both you and her used to snap pictures all the time, your SD cards were filled with hundreds of photographs of Jessie, everything from a breakfast date to a hike she had dragged you along to, from her running around all sweaty on the pitch to her relaxing on the sofa, a mug of chamomile tea in her hand as she snuggled deeper on the sofa. Now that you had a job in media, where snapping photos and edits was the norm, coming home and taking ‘nice’ photos was the last thing on your mind. Although you still had thousands of selfies, ugly mugshots and cute pictures of Jessie resting in your camera roll to help you get through her trips away.
You were full on beaming now, wide and lovesick as you squealed excitedly. “I know you have to talk to the club and whatnot, I can send you a link to my portfolio to show them my work. And they don’t have to pay me or anything,” you babbled.
“Bubs, bubs.” Jessie stood, cupping your jaw and angling your head back to look at her. Her fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of your neck. “Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll sort it all.” Her thumb brushed along your cheek. She leant down, kissing you softly. You hummed happily, hand finding her hip.
“I have a question for you now …” she whispered when you parted, her breath warm against your skin, forehead resting against yours.
“What?”
“Will you go on a date with me?” Her voice was soft and full of love. Your heart fluttered at your words. You hoped this would never fade, the feeling of excited nerves that bubbled in your chest whenever you thought about Jessie. Was it possible to have a crush on your own girlfriend? You weren’t too sure but either way, you hoped this feeling would last a lifetime.
“Yeah …” you whispered, sneaking another kiss. “Will you go on a date with me?” You asked back. It was a habit you had picked up right when you first got together. It originally had started out as a joke. You asked her out, even though she had already agreed to be your girlfriend, and she stumbled over her words, and ended up asking the same question back to you. Initially, she had groaned whenever you asked her, a blush rising to her cheeks, but now she couldn’t imagine you not doing it.
“Of course.” Jessie kissed you again.
“Love you, J.”
“Love you, bubs.”
By some miracle, they said yes. Jessie had said they were already thinking about outsourcing the shoot anyway and you would actually be doing them a favour. Within the week, you had a shiny new contract drawn up with your signature drying on the dotted line.
The club had asked you to start with Jessie; they knew her well enough to strike while the iron was hot. They didn’t want her enthusiasm for the media to disappear.
“Mornin’ bubs.” Jessie smiled, her eyes full of sleep, her voice still scratchy. She rolled over, pulling you towards her gently as she nuzzled her face into your neck.
“Hi, J.” You pressed a long kiss to her hair. You hummed happily, inhaling the sweet coconut scent of her shampoo.
“W-what’s …” she broke off with a yawn. “What’s the plan for today?” She mumbled into your skin, her lips brushing against your collarbone.
“Nothing set in stone,” you carded your fingers through her hair. She sighed, snuggling impossibly closer into you. “I was thinking breakfast. Could make it here but do you want to people to see our kitchen?” She huffed, shaking her head. You chuckled quietly. “Exactly. So breakfast. And then we could go to the park? Have a bit of a walk around and stuff?” You moved your hand, scratching lightly up her back. You felt Jessie leave a kiss against your skin. “Then maybe get some ice cream?” You asked hopefully.
You loved ice cream dates with Jessie - always getting at least two flavours each and swapping half way. It was a tradition to go at least once a month, something sacred to the both of you.
“As long as I pay,” Jessie mumbled, her voice deep.
“Jess,” you whined.
“Bubs,” she said in the same tone, raising herself up onto her elbows to look at you properly.
“I planned the date, therefore I pay.” It was an argument that you had consistently. Jessie insisting that she pay for your dates, arguing that logically, since she earned more, she should pay. You countered her by always bringing up your agreement from your first date that whoever planned the date, pays.
“But …” you could see she was trying to formulate her argument. “We’re only doing this shoot because of me. Therefore, it’s the least I can do.” She pursed her lips.
“The photographs are secondary.” You rolled your eyes. “I’d want to go on our date regardless.” Your expression matched hers, both of you glaring at each other.
“Please,” Jessie mumbled, her bottom lip jutting out.
“J,” you whined again, closing your eyes against her pout. You were useless against her puppy eyes and she knew it. She knew you would fold the minute she started to widen her eyes and rearrange her eyebrows. “You’re being mean.” You threw your hands over your face.
You felt her rearrange herself, her legs coming over to straddle your hips. “C’mon, bubba.” You could hear the smile in her voice. “Let me be the gentle … woman? …” you giggled. “Let me treat my girl, yeah?” Her voice was closer now, you could feel her warmth against your chest as she lent down. “Let me treat you.” Carefully, she pulled your hands away from your face, lifting them up above your head and pinning them to the pillows with one of hers. “Let me show you just how much I love you.”
Your heartbeat was thumping in your chest as you opened your eyes. She was awfully close, just a simple head tilt from you and your lips would be on hers. “Let me treat my good girl,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.
Your breath hitched in your throat as she started to trail soft kisses along your jaw. “J.” You bucked your hips.
“Yeah?”
“Please,”
“Lemme pay for our date.” She teased, sucking lightly against your throat. You moaned quietly.
“Not playing fair, Jess,” you whimpered, sounding utterly pathetic.
“Oh, I know.” She leant back up, giving you a cheeky wink. “Let me pay, and I’ll give you what you want.” She raised her eyebrows, challenging you.
You blinked up at her, trying to give her your best innocent expression. “C’mon, bubs.” You were thoroughly turned on, every nerve in your body alight with love and lust.
“Ugh,” you finally relented. “Fine.” She let a kilowatt smile spread on her face, her nose crinkling in happiness.
“See,” she teased, “was that so hard?”
You rolled your eyes. “Can you make me cum now?” You countered sassily.
“Milady,” Jessie smiled, dropping a kiss to the top of your head as she placed your drink on the table in front of you.
“Thank you, baby.” You turned your face to her smiling, like a sunflower following the sun.
You very pointedly didn’t put your camera on the table, instead choosing to put it on the bench next to you. You could tell that she was still a little nervous about it. When you had looped it around your neck before you left, she had looked at it suspiciously, as if it was going to bite her or something.
“So …” Jessie bit her lip. Automatically, your hand found hers, intertwining your fingers before she was able to scratch anxiously.
“So…?”
“How does this work?”
“A date?” You teased, purposefully misunderstanding her. “I’d hope you know how a date works by now.” You sighed, taking a sip. She huffed, rolling her eyes. “J, baby.” You waited until she looked at you. “Forget about the camera.” You shuffled along the booth towards her. “We’re on a date, yeah? Just like old times.” You winked.
Jessie took a steadying breath. “Just like old times,” she whispered, more to herself than to you.
“Now,” you said, decisively changing the subject. “I have another instalment of work drama. Wanna hear?”
She gasped. “There’s more.” Jessie smiled excitedly. She loved hearing about your work drama. It helped her stay grounded a little, made her feel more normal, a break away from having people recognise her in the street and her face plastered on the side of stadiums. “Tell me everything.”
“Well, I told you about Matt, right?” She nodded, sipping on her coffee. “Turns out … he’sthe other man!” Jessie gasped, thoroughly invested in the story.
You had spent most of the morning in the coffee shop. You could tell Jessie was more comfortable now, babbling away, arms waiving wildly as she recounted what happened with Sam at training the other day. You knew that you probably should have used your proper camera - your professional, very expensive and fancy camera - but you didn’t want to disrupt her flow, make her nervous again, make Jessie clam up and act all awkward in that way that you found utterly adorable.
You had been tasked to get photos of the normal Jessie, the natural Jessie, the comfortable Jessie. Without really moving, you pulled up your camera on your phone, angling it to capture her laughter.
You knew you had caught a good photograph without having to check. Sure, you would need to edit them, but you knew. It was easy to take good photographs of Jessie. Especially when she was happy. She was stunning, anyone with eyes could see that she was a beautiful woman. But it was something else. Her aura, the vibe that was ever present - shy, awkward, calm, intelligent. All things that you could just see in the photographs, even without actually seeing it.
You were wondering through the park, hand in hand as you looked at the trees. The sunlight streamed through the leaves, the beams dappling on the grass beneath your feet. Instinctively, you held the camera up to your eye, snapping away.
“Bubs?” Jessie called. She loved watching you in your element. She always had - even before you started dating, back when she had the biggest crush on you and felt like she was unable to do anything but stutter and stumble over her words. There was something about you when you started taking photos - the concentration on your face, the crinkle in between your eyebrows, the way you bit your lip as you lined up the shot.
You hummed, turning to face her. “This seems like a nice place for photos, right?” She asked quietly.
“It does,” you hummed, not wanting her to feel like you were pressuring her. “Do you want me to take some photos?”
“Only if you want to.” You rolled your eyes at the typical Jessie response.
“J,” you said sternly.
“It’s pretty here.” She shrugged.
“You’re prettier,” you said smoothly, smiling as her cheeks reddened.
“Stop,” she whined.
“Nope,” you stuck your tongue out, bringing your camera up to your eye again. “You’re so beautiful, J.” You called out, watching as her cheeks flared again. “Can’t believe you’re my girlfriend.”
“Stop it.” She tried to sound firm, but couldn’t stop the laughter from bubbling through.
“Am I not allowed to tell my incredible attractive, gorgeous, lovely, wonderful girlfriend that she’s beautiful?” You asked pulling the camera away.
“No, you’re not.” Jessie crossed her arms over her chest, you took one final photo, capturing her raised eyebrow and pout.
“Oh?” You let your camera go completely, letting it dangle from the strap around your neck. You sauntered up to her, “And why’s that?”
“Because.” She tried to look confident and firm, but the slightest hint of embarrassment tinged her features. You knew exactly why she didn’t want the compliments - she didn’t take them very well, something that you knew all about and loved to exploit. You loved seeing her get shy and blushy over your words. Regardless of what it was - her game play, her appearance, her intelligence, or anything else you could think of - she was an awkward gooey mess.
“Because …?” You were closer now, invading her personal bubble. Gently, you untangled her arms, holding onto both hands.
“Because …” you could tell she was thinking of a reason. She laced her fingers with yours. “Because, I say so.” She nodded with finality.
“Well,” You started to rise up on your toes. “I say … you’re beautiful.” You smiled before kissing her swiftly.
You would love nothing more than to keep kissing Jessie, but you were hyper aware of your surroundings and her fear of being seen out in public. Not with you, never with you. She proudly showed you off whenever she had the chance. But she wasn’t one for complete displayed affection - hand holding, yes; Gushing to whichever one of her team mates had asked about you, obviously; a quick peck, sure; anything more, she’d rather wait to be behind closed doors.
“Ice cream?” You asked cheekily when she pulled back.
“I’m paying,” she quipped, manoeuvring you to be by her side.
“J,” you shook your head.
“Nuh-uh. That was the deal, bubs.” She smiled that disarming smile. “I make you cum, you let me pay.”
The shop was busier than you were expecting, a queue of people almost out of the door. “What do you want, bubba?” Jessie asked, pulling you in front of her and wrapping her arms around your waist. Usually, she wasn’t so open with her affection, but something in her just didn’t care. Not today. She wanted to have you close. She needed it.
It was tradition that you always got one vanilla and one chocolate, to ‘cleanse the pallet’ as you put it once. You looked up to the board above you, leaning back into her warm body. Jessie looked at you as you studied the board. She was shocked by your beauty. How effortless you looked. How calm and relaxed. How much you loved her. She had been convinced when she took to Chelsea contract you would have called it quits. You both had a year left of your degree, but with everything being online, you had jumped at the chance to move to London with her. She had almost worried herself sick, yet there was something about you. You were so sure. So solid in yourself and in your relationship. Not that Jessie wasn’t the same. But with everything being online worry voiced, you had coolly explained it away - telling her exactly how and why that wouldn’t happen. It had been you that had encouraged her to look into moving out of London. You had seen how down she had been lately. Not her usual shy but sweet self. As soon as she had mentioned Portland as a possibility, you had looked into studio spaces and how best to move your little business over to the US. She couldn’t believe how lucky she was. She must have done something right in a past life to have you in this one.
“Love you, bubs.” She whispered in your ear, pressing a kiss to your temple.
You blinked, shocked at her slightly random announcement.
“Love you, J.”
You were at the ice cream shop until almost closing. You spent hours tucked away in the bench by the window. You talked about everything and anything. It was something that had drawn you to Jessie in the first place. Conversation was never a struggle. Even with moments of silence, it was never awkward. It was the comforting kind of quiet that continued the conversation without words.
You snapped a couple of ‘proper’ photographs for Jessie. One where she was laughing, her head thrown back, curls dancing around her shoulders. Another she was smiling shyly down at the now-empty ice cream pot, a blush on her cheeks, as she bit her lip.
“J,” you called, catching her attention.
“Yeah,” she smiled back at you, her thigh brushing yours.
“Photo?”
“Isn’t that what you’ve been doing all day?”
“Not of you, you spoon.” You teased, leaning into her, she kissed you sweetly on the top of your head. “Of us.”
“Oh,” she cleared her throat. “Course.” She moved around a little, throwing one arm over your shoulder. “This ok?” She mumbled.
“More than.” You smiled back, making eye contact with her through the camera. She leaned into you more, her cheek pressing against yours. You held the shutter down, turning into her and closing your eyes, a small lovesick smile graced your features.
God, you loved her so much.
“Today has been perfect,” she muttered as she extended her hand to you, helping you out of your seat.
“You have been perfect.” You stuck your tongue out at her.
“Stop.” She whined, tucking you under your arm as you walked down the street.
“Nope,” you put your arm around her waist. “You’re too easy, J.”
