#I hope he beats their asses at halftime

[serbian-queen]

Y’all are letting goals in infront of GIGI?!? SHAME

[discokicks]

WHISKEY, TANGO, FOXTROT - ROY KENT.

PART FOUR OF ACES AT THE WATER'S EDGE.

(series masterlist!) (AO3!) (series playlist!)

pairing: roy kent x fem!reader (no use of y/n!) summary: it's your first game of the season at chelsea and rebecca’s got some press for you to do. however, thanks to rupert, the reporters will have some questions you’re not exactly ready for. the same could be said for 2012 roy kent, who’s abusing his new avoidance power to the fullest extent. but, as the two of you continue to work and get closer, you realize that there might just be something else there.

word count & rating: 15.4k (holy fuck this is why it took 6 months), R (language per usual) chapter warnings: swearing, references to sex, minor allusions to sexual harassment, mentions of alcohol, the beginnings of sexual tension (slow and steady wins the race), rupert is a dick, roy kent has got around and everyone knows it, keeley and rebecca are wine drinking pr besties, men are trash (but we know this) author's note: long time no see and happy olympics season! it felt fitting to post this now, so I got motivated to get my ass into gear and write. there's A LOT to this one, so buckle up. and make sure you stay until the end bc baby we're cooking with gas now. this took a lot out of me, so i hope you enjoy! love u tons! -mags

LONDON OLYMPICS, LATE JULY, 2012.

You’re up 1-0 when you retreat into the locker room at halftime during your third game of the Olympic Tournament against North Korea.

Despite the fact that you’re winning, it was a terrible showing from each of you, except for Mel, who’d been your lone scorer of the night. She’d had a breakaway and had managed to single-handedly beat three defenders for a pretty impressive goal. You’d practically jumped into her arms during the celebration, glad that someone was able to break the sleepy curse that had seemed to be placed on your team.

Your captain Katie O’Connor stands tall at the front of the room, ready to rip you guys a new one. She was the more… passionate of your three captains, potentially coming off as abrasive when things weren’t going your way or if she felt that things could be better. It was only because she cared so much. You all did.

“We should be beating them by four at this point,” she says, pointing out the door. A mumbling of agreements goes through your team, knowing that it’s the truth. “We’re playing like it’s fucking high school out there. It’s the fucking Olympics, act like we belong here, for fuck’s sake.”

The amount of ‘fucks’ that Katie drops instantly has you thinking of someone else. God damn it, he was probably watching, wasn’t he? You could only imagine the things he was thinking, or saying, for that matter. 

You know you shouldn’t care as much as you do, but… as much as you hate to admit it, you want to impress him. Or at least make it look like these training sessions have been worth it. There was something about him that made you want to prove yourself. It wasn’t that he demanded you to do so or that he’d value you less if you didn’t, but you wanted to. Unfortunately, you cared about his opinion. How tragic was that?

Curiosity gets the best of you. Before your coach can come into the locker room, you fish through your bag and take a peek at your phone, just to see if he, or anyone else, has said anything.

Sure enough, you see that you’ve got two texts from Roy Kent that were sent five minutes ago, right when you finished the half.

What a fucking atrocious half. I fucking dare you to hit the post one more time.

A scowl pulls at your lips, but you know it’s true. It wasn’t anything you hadn’t already thought yourself. He had an extraordinary talent for knowing how to be exactly the brand of jackass that pissed you off, though. It only became more apparent as you read the next message.

You could learn a thing or two about footwork from Rivera.

You scoff, glancing over at Mel, who, while she sat next to you, was staring blankly at the wall, undoubtedly in her own little world. Before she notices you looking, you’ve turned back to your phone and to his messages. “Asshole,” you mutter, but type out your response.

maybe i��ll get her to coach me then. she isn’t as much of a dick to me.

The response comes before you can put away your phone. Not your coach, he says, then sends another message. Relax out there. You’re somehow playing nervous and stiff at the same time. You’re a fucking anomaly. But before you can frown too hard at that, he says, You know how to see the field. So take a breath and fucking see it.

You throw your phone back in your bag with a huff, mind reeling as you attempt to think back to what the field looked like before the half. The last three possessions had you following Mel as she took the ball up the field. The defense had started favoring her side due to her dominance throughout the game, leaving… 

…Katie on the left side. And while they hadn’t left her open—

“Did you call me an asshole a second ago?” Mel asks from beside you, having broken out of her own trance. You flinch at the sound of her voice, instinctively flipping your phone over and against the bench you’re sitting on. 

She courteously spares you the weird look you know she’s holding back. “No,” you reply. You motion to your phone. “Roy’s texting me.”

Mel nods in understanding. “Gotcha. What’s Coach Kent have to say?”

“He’s being an asshole,” you repeat. “He says we’re ‘atrocious.’ Making fun of how much I’m hitting the post.” You turn to her. “He’s got good things to say about your footwork, though.”

Mel grins. “I knew I liked him.”

You scowl again at that. “He’s also telling me I need to see the field better.” Mel raises her brows at the look on your face, cueing you to go on. “I think Katie’s been open-ish for the last three possessions. They’re favoring your side.”

The two of you look back to your teammate once more as you consider this. “We could keep trying to draw the defense out,” Mel offers. “We scare them a little bit, hit her when she’s coming up.”

“She can beat that fullback in a heartbeat,” you agree.

“It’s worth a shot,” she says. “We can’t play any shittier than we already are.”

You nod at Mel with faux enthusiasm. “That’s the spirit.”

And that’s exactly what you decide. Mel jumps to her feet and explains your plan to Katie and the team, drawing up the X’s and O’s on the locker room whiteboard. You glance around the room cautiously, forcing yourself not to read into your teammates' expressions too deeply. 

But it’s hard. Especially when you’re an overthinker.

It’s a title you’ve resigned yourself to, much to Roy’s pleasure. Whether you wanted to admit it or not, it was the truth. And while you were still working to get out of that lifelong mindset, it didn't seem to be getting any easier. 

But your over-analyzing leads you to a result you like: all of your teammates seem to be on board with your ideas. You can’t deny that that feels good.

You especially can’t deny it when your coach walks into the locker room to see Mel’s play on the baker and says, “Well, you ladies are way ahead of me.” Because that’s exactly what she was going to draw up.

That feeling has you giddily awaiting the moment you can grab your phone before you head back out to the field to send a text to your newfound trainer. 

i’ll have a shot on net in the first ten minutes, you type to him, confidence radiating through the text. and it’s not gonna hit the post this time.

Your message reaches Roy when he returns to his phone at the beginning of the second half. He can’t help the chuckle that escapes him as he settles back into his couch, shaking his head when he glances up at the massive TV in his sitting room, the broadcast showing a close-up of you with a new sort of fire in your eyes. It’s a look that illuminates his dim and quiet flat, one that he can’t seem to part with until they cut away from you.

Within four minutes and fifty-five seconds, you draw the defense over to you and Mel, who wails the ball over to Katie’s side of the field. Katie has possession of it for five seconds before she catches her defender off-guard and sends it in between her legs to you. 

Five minutes in, you live up to your promise and send the ball into the corner of the net, the crowd roaring as Katie shakes you back and forth in excitement and Mel jumps on your back. One of the cameramen runs up to you to catch your celebration, and you stare down the lens with a satisfied smile and point in a way that tells Roy that you’re looking directly at him. 

He couldn’t stop himself from grinning even if he wanted to. With yet another shake of his head, Roy reaches out for the phone he’d thrown onto the couch cushion next to him.

I told you. Fucking anomaly you are, you stupid fucking Yank, he writes. Stay pissed off. It’s a good look on you, Fourteen.

When Roy sends that text, he keeps his phone closer to him this time, and somehow, his dim and quiet flat feels just a bit lighter, even if for a brief moment.

PRESENT DAY, MID-AUGUST, 2023.

Before you can leave the Richmond facilities post-Saturday afternoon practice, you’re suddenly called into Rebecca Walton’s office.

It’s a day before your first game of the season and after your rather animated talk with Roy in the Boot Room yesterday, you’re feeling a bit lighter. You slept better last night (though you don’t see yourself hitting REM any time soon) and don’t feel like you’re being dragged down by the massive weight of… well, everything. It’s a feeling you’re taking in stride and one you’re welcoming with open arms. 

Practices before game days were typically a bit easier-going, and you and your fellow coaches had decided to make sure the team was up to date and understood the best plays to run against Chelsea tomorrow. They knew who to stop, what defenses to watch out for, and what trick plays to expect. While you hadn’t lent your voice to the conversation as much as you probably should have, especially after being yelled at for it yesterday, you spoke more than usual. While that still wasn’t a lot, it was enough. And that made you feel good, above all else.

That feeling goes away the second you walk into your boss’s office to see her and an incredibly familiar face staring at you from the couch area. Your lips part the second you see her, hand unsubtly slamming against the doorframe, not just to stabilize yourself, but to keep you from dramatically heel-turning out of the room, to never return.

By the way that Keeley Jones is looking at you, you can tell she’s just about on the same page. You suppose she’s got the better end of this deal, simply because your arrival doesn’t seem to be a surprise for her. At least she had a warning about the foreboding awkwardness of this situation. Your boss didn’t exactly grant you that luxury.

Then again, you figure Rebecca had no real way of knowing just how strange this might be for you. She didn’t know the extent of your history with Roy, and the only person who may was sitting right next to her, probably having shared more of that history than either of you cared to admit.

However, what you’re not expecting from Keeley, is the way she gapes at you, then turns to Rebecca to whisper, “Fucking hell, you didn’t say she was hotter in person.”

The shock and confusion flowing through your body makes you blink slowly at them to readjust, and you lean back on your back foot. You manage to stammer out, “I-I’m sorry to interrupt, I can come back--”

“No, no,” Rebecca says, beckoning you in after she finishes rolling her eyes at Keeley, “come on in and join us! We just opened a bottle.”

Join them? You glance at the open bottle of wine on the coffee table, then back to them. Is this why you were called here? To indulge in some post-work girl talk with your boss and Roy’s first real, and only public girlfriend? Ex-girlfriend, you remembered, but still.

You’re sure the discomfort you feel is broadcasted on your face, and that becomes especially apparent when Keeley offers you a small, kind smile. However, the action is sweet and it makes your over-anxious mind ease slightly. If she’s not going to be weird about it, you certainly aren’t either.

Besides, you have no idea what she actually knows about you and Roy. He would be the type to tell her nothing. He was the type to tell her nothing.

However, something about Keeley’s demeanor tells you that’s probably not the case.

When you realize that you’ve been standing like a freak in the doorway for just a moment too long, you snap out of your haze and return the smile, nodding gratefully as you enter Rebecca’s office.

“We were just discussing the game tomorrow,” Rebecca tells you as she reaches for the spare wine glass on the table. She eyes you with a wry grin. “I’d ask if you drank, but that bar cart I saw in your apartment gave you away.”

A surprised laugh escapes you at the rather forward comment, but it helps you relax slightly as you make your way to them. “Yeah, well. It was probably looking pretty sparse when you saw it.” You reach your hand out to Keeley, continuing to smile softly as you introduce yourself.

“Keeley Jones,” she says to you, though there’s a mutual understanding that this is just a formality. You both know who the other is. “Bad week, yeah?” she asks.

You reach for the wine glass Rebecca offers you and send a look of confirmation to Keeley. “You have no idea.” Your smile stretches as you look over at Rebecca and sit down. “These last couple of days have made up for it, though.”

Rebecca returns it. “That’s wonderful to hear.”

“I can imagine it’s been a little different than West Ham,” Keeley says. “We know what Rupert likes to pull. All that shit he’s been saying about you leaving?” She shakes her head. “I don’t know how people aren’t seeing through him.”

The smile you wear falters slightly. “I, uh… haven’t really been keeping up with any of that,” you tell her. “Figured it wouldn’t be great to hear anything that anybody’s saying about me, y’know?”

“Totally get that,” she replies kindly. However, she hesitates. “...But you… haven’t seen anything that’s been going around?”

“Um…” you trail off, shifting in your chair. “No? Why? Is it really that bad?”

Rebecca and Keeley exchange a look. “It’s just—” Rebecca cuts herself off, looking back at you. “Remember how I said you wouldn’t have to do any press if you didn’t want to?”

Any remnants of the demeanor you had when you sat down completely drain from your expression. “Oh, my God. It is that bad, isn’t it?”

Keeley shakes her head, holding out her hands. “No, no, it’s really not. It could be so much worse,” she assures. “I mean, it is that bad with those weird little shits online who always have a problem with successful women in sports, but what else is new—”

“This is the worst of it,” Rebecca interjects, putting a hand on her friend's arm. She passes you a tablet as Keeley goes quiet and you take it cautiously. 

It’s a video of Rupert at a press conference, one you presume was taken this morning. The season kicked off tomorrow and Ted, Rebecca, and the rest of the team had been stuck doing interviews all day, something of which you weren’t sad to have missed out on.

You press the play button in the center of the screen to watch Rupert point at someone off-camera. “Yes,” he says. “Daniel, what have you got?”

Daniel, presumably, asks, “I was just curious how the team’s feeling with that coaching shake-up so close to Opening Day?” You hear a murmur go through the audience of reporters. “Losing someone like that and then watching her get picked up by Richmond must be tough on you guys, no?”

Rupert seems to take this in and sit with it, nodding slowly. “I won’t lie to you, Daniel,” he says after a moment. “I wasn’t happy with the note that we ended on. She had concerns toward the end of her tenure about her role on the team and with certain aspects of AFC culture. She knows just how talented I think she is, and how excited we were to have her working with us. And we had a wonderful couple of months working with her. But, unfortunately…” He shakes his head scornfully, like all of this was genuinely upsetting him. “...there were just some differences we couldn’t get past. The team was remarkably sad to see her go, but I don’t believe it’ll affect our performance this season.” 

He lets his answer hang there for a moment, but tragically, he’s not done. “Perhaps Richmond was willing to offer her some things that we weren’t able to. Perhaps their values align more with what she wanted out of her AFC career.” And then, with a nonchalant shrug, he adds, “Perhaps she just wanted to coach with her old friend Roy Kent.” Your lips part at that, brow furrowing in disbelief as the reporters chuckle. “Who knows? I wish her the best and I wish Richmond good luck. I hope they’re a better fit for her.”

The clip cuts off there and you glance up at Rebecca and Keeley who are both bracing for impact. “What the fuck?” 

If either of them find your words unprofessional, they do nothing to indicate it. However, there’s something about them that tells you they’re more than comfortable with that kind of language in the workplace. “Yeah,” Keeley says. “So, like I said. It could be so much worse.”

“He was the one who was unhappy with how it ended?” you quote. “He’s upset about the differences we couldn’t work past? How about you address my concerns with AFC culture and get upset with your—”

You cut yourself off before you can say too much, focusing your attention on the plant in the corner of Rebecca’s office to stabilize yourself. What a fucking asshole. What a self-serving, lying, fucking asshole. He’s not worth the tears. Don’t give him that satisfaction.

You understand why you were called in now, why Rebecca prefaced the video with that question. You’d neglected to personally get ahead of Rupert and make a real statement on your choice to part with West Ham and sign with Richmond. Now you were paying that price— the price of being afraid.

“What—” Your voice cracks as you attempt to speak, and you clear your throat. “What type of press do I have to do?”

Rebecca’s sigh is empathetic. “We think it’d be smart to send you out with Ted tomorrow after the game. Make a statement, answer a few questions,” she says. “That is, if you’re open to it.”

Your brow raises skeptically. “I can say no to that?”

Rebecca chuckles. “You can say no to anything,” she tells you. “Roy refuses to do any sort of press and he’s managed to be completely fine. Labeled as a bitter, old recluse, but he doesn’t seem to care.” Typical. But then, she adds, “We do think it’s your best move, though.”

You know it’s your best move. You know it’s what you should have done at the beginning of all of this. You know that there’s nothing that you want to do less. But somehow, having that small, offhanded-out Rebecca offered makes it all sit a bit easier with you.

“I think so too,” you finally agree, sighing shakily. Rebecca and Keeley grin at you encouragingly, watching as you reach out to take a hearty sip of your wine. “So, what’s the plan?” You look over at Keeley. “I assume that’s why you’re here.”

Keeley’s face lights up. “Exactly why I’m here,” she replies. “We’re gonna PR this shit so fucking hard nobody is going to know what hit them.”

Her enthusiasm makes the corners of your mouth rise despite everything else. “Can’t say I’m great in front of a crowd,” you warn.

“It’s rare to find people who are,” Keeley responds easily, flicking her hand like she’s brushing off your comment. “That’s why we’re going to make this as simple as possible.”

You nod. “Okay. Hit me.”

“Okay, three things you’re going to want to address,” she begins, tapping on her fingers. “The first is clarifying the ‘note that you ended on’ and those differences with the team. You don’t need to get into specifics if you don’t want to—”

“I really do not,” you tell her.

“Got it,” she says, and the look on her face tells you she really does get it. “Don’t get into specifics. Just say that you’re also upset things didn’t work out, but that it was nothing personal. Truly just leadership differences, like was first said. Even if it wasn’t.”

Your eyes narrow in question. “So, just lie?”

“Welcome to PR, babe,” she replies, and her grin gets more genuine when she sees you chuckle. “Alright, second; we’ve gotta say something about why you chose Richmond. Something that goes beyond our stale press release statement.”

“I didn’t think it was stale,” you offer.

“Aw, thank you!” The smile drops from her face. “But it was. All press releases are. They’re just words on a page, which is so fucking boring. And they get no feeling across. Which is what we need from you,” she says with a point. “You just need to actually say what we’ve already said.”

Once again, you nod. “So, you need it once more, with feeling?”

Keeley blinks back at you, then glances at Rebecca. “My god, I fucking love her.”

The smile that pulls at your lips is involuntary and smaller than the encouraging one that appears on Rebecca’s. “I told you that you would,” she says softly to her, but it’s just loud enough for you to hear. She then turns to you once more. “He brought up AFC culture and our values, but don’t even touch that.”

“'Values' is a loaded word,” Keeley says. “He used it for a reason, but if we’re looking to ignore all this, we shouldn’t be using those types of words.”

“Right,” continues Rebecca. “We’re not looking for a fight here. You don’t want to engage, we don’t want to engage. I think we can all agree we’re looking for this to be over and done with and forgotten about, yes?”

“Yes,” you confirm.

“So, just agree with his comments. Leave it neutral. Non-confrontational,” Rebecca says. “Make it easy. Even if you’re not disappointed to have left the club, say that you are. If you want to touch on ‘culture’ reference AFC culture as a whole. The culture shock of transitioning from womens to mens sports.”

Neutral, you think. Non-confrontational. Easy. You can do that.

After a moment, you nod in confirmation at Rebecca. Then, you refocus on Keeley. “What’s the third thing we need to address?”

Keeley folds her hands awkwardly. “That would be… uh, your friendship with Roy.”

Your face goes hot almost instantaneously. “Oh,” you say softly. You scratch the inside of your wrist, finding it increasingly hard to keep Keeley’s gaze, especially as she continues to sit in that tension with you. “Do I have to? Address that, I mean? We were just friends. A ton of people in the football world are friends with each other. I don’t…” The lie sours your tongue and you glance over at Rebecca, hoping for her to throw some kind of life preserver to you over here. “I didn’t think anyone knew about that. It wasn’t like we were Matt Damon and Ben Affleck or whatever. Our friendship wasn’t mainstream news.”

“Some intern at The Sun found some photos of you two after the 2012 Olympics at a club,” Rebecca explains. Your entire body flushes as you remember that night. “They resurfaced and became relevant after your move to Richmond.”

“Okay, but, if it’s the night I think they’re referring to, we were out with our teams,” you attempt to reason. “There’s no reason other than media speculation that people would think we were… what was implied.”

Keeley points at you. “And that’s exactly what you’re going to say if you’re asked about it.” Then, with a good-humored shrug, she says, “If you want to be petty, you can talk about how this speculation wouldn’t be happening if you were a man.”

Rebecca looks at her friend. “That’s actually not bad. Because it wouldn’t be.”

“None of this would be,” you say to the two women in front of you. The tone you’ve taken is scornful, and while they may not know all the reasons why… they get it.

Keeley reaches forward to grab the bottle of wine at in the center of the coffee table and tilts it to offer it to you. You nod almost immediately, mustering up a small smile as she pours. “So, our plan is to send you in with Ted after tomorrow’s game. They’ll probably, mainly, have questions for you because that’s the drama right now, so I’ve written up something that we can practice and workshop.”

“Ted’s won the press over and is practically on a first-name basis with all of them,” Rebecca continues. “So, he’ll be a lifeline if you need him at any time.”

Keeley nods at the glass she just poured for you. “So, drink up. Because we’re going to run through this shit and roleplay.” She pauses for a moment, catching herself. “The press conference, I mean. Not the sexy kind.”

“Probably better for HR reasons,” you reply.

As that joke slips out of your mouth, you can feel your comfort level with them rising. Something about them is just so… welcoming. You’re in a room with your boss and Roy’s ex-girlfriend. You should be guarded. You should be censoring yourself. But as you continue to sit here, you can’t see yourself doing so.

Perhaps Richmond was willing to offer her some things that we weren’t able to. Perhaps you were right, you fucking prick.

Keeley snorts softly and nods in agreement and you notice the smile that grows on Rebecca’s face. “I’ve heard the HR is rather easily swayed, so we might be able to get away with it,” Keeley responds, grinning as she sees you laugh.

Rebecca claps her hands together. “So. Non-sexy press conference roleplay?”

They both turn to you, and after a hearty gulp of your wine, you sigh. “Let’s get to it.”

LONDON OLYMPICS, LATE JULY, 2012.

You finish the game against North Korea with another win under your belt and return to utter chaos when you get back to the dorms.

While you were the only scorer of the last half, everyone stepped up their game in the ways that they had to. Things still weren’t perfect and there was plenty for all of you to work on going forward, but you were proud of the way your team had turned things around. 

When you return, it’s just past midnight, and all you want to do is go to bed. The game had drained you completely dry, and there was nothing more appealing than the idea of tucking into your horrendously uncomfortable dorm bed. Luckily, unlike last time, Mel’s on the same page as you.

She’d fallen asleep on your shoulder on the bus ride back for about an hour and spent the other three complaining that you weren’t paying attention to her. And why weren’t you paying attention?

Because Roy fucking Kent wouldn’t stop texting you. After you’d read over the text he’d sent to you during the second half (and ignored the weird feeling in your stomach and heat on your cheeks at him calling you an anomaly, God, why did that word land with you so well?), you’d returned to gloat. Hit the post again, he’d said. You hadn’t.

Things had gotten carried away from there. What had started as a slightly antagonistic and taunting back and forth had devolved into a conversation about the sleeping accommodations in the dorms (big-time footballer in his posh london flat doesn’t even have the decency to drop off a mattress topper and some extra pillows? you’d complained to him), then to about which countries you wanted to visit (Australia. For no other reason than to meet a quokka, he’d told you), then to what the fuck a quokka is and why he knew about them (that’s the stupidest looking animal i’ve seen in my life. i want 10 of them, you’d said), to whatever you’d landed on next.

You’d put your phone in your pocket the second you’d pulled back into the Village, helping the team unload everyone’s stuff. Everyone seemed completely dead, something of which you celebrated, simply because it meant there was no team bonding preventing you from going to sleep as soon as possible. The only thing that was doing that for you was Mel’s incessant questions about Roy.

“I really think you’re lying to me about this being a weird sex thing,” she says, readjusting her grip on the bag slung over her shoulder. “Because there’s no other reason that you two should be talking as much as you are.”

You make a face at her. “It’s not a weird sex thing,” you say for what feels like the seventeenth time that night. “We’re just friends. Or, you know, whatever the closest thing to a friend Roy has is.”

“That’s exactly my point,” Mel replies. Her voice echoes through the quiet night air surrounding the dorm’s courtyard. “Roy doesn’t do friends. He hasn’t for as long as I’ve known him.”

“I thought you said you didn’t know him.”

“I don’t. And I say that’s because he won’t let me get to know him. Because he doesn’t do friends.” She shrugs. “I mean, ask Jack or anyone who’s played with him. They’ll say the same.”

When you approach the doors of your dorm building, you make a teasingly innocent face at Mel. “Maybe I’m just different.”

“Right,” she says dryly. “Or he wants to fuck you.”

“Why are you trying to ruin this for me?” you whine as you open the door. “I’m actually, like, kind of having fun with him and this training thing we’re doing. He’s a good guy.” 

Mel shoots you a blank-faced stare. “You were calling him an asshole less than six hours ago.”

“Because he is. But he’s a good guy too,” you respond. “He’s like… I don’t know. Like Ron Swanson or Harrison Ford. Total curmudgeon but in a fun way.”

Mel’s lips purse. “Well, now I can’t stop picturing him with the Ron Swanson mustache.”

You grin, sidestepping fellow Olympians who hang around in the lobby of the dorm. “Have fun sleeping tonight.”

A heavy, exaggerated, long sigh leaves her as you approach the elevator. “Just be careful,” she says, putting her hands up in surrender as you look at her incredulously. “Even if you are just friends. And even if you’re not. As your actual friend, I have to tell you to be careful. All men suck, but athletes tend to suck ten times more.”

“I’ll be fine,” you reply in a sing-song fashion. The elevator doors open and you and Mel step in. “I appreciate you, though.”

“You better,” Mel scoffs. “I’m getting gray hairs thinking you’re doing weird sex shit with Chelsea’s Finest on a random pitch in the middle of London.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, my God, can these things close any slow--”

“Hold the door!” shouts a voice from the lobby. On instinct, you reach out to stop the doors that were finally closing, feeling Mel’s elbow in your side. The voice gets louder as it gets closer. “Thank you. Did not feel like waiting for this thing again.”

Into the elevator walks (quite possibly) the hottest man you’ve ever seen in your life. He’s got the quintessential surfer look to him, but in a way that works. He’s blonde (while you’re definitely more into dark hair, you can’t deny just how good he looks), at least six-three, and is built like a lean brick house. His curls fall into his eyes that squint into a smile as he looks at you and Mel.

“Oh,” he says as he walks in. “Congratulations on the win today.”

You and Mel stare at him in awe, snapping out of it as you realize that you’re gawking. “Thank you,” you manage to get out. You try to place his accent and what sport he could possibly specialize in, but your brain malfunctions. “I would say the same to you but I’m… uh--”

Luckily, he seems to catch on and saves you from your misery. “I’m Luca,” he says, holding out his hand for you and Mel to shake. “France. Swim team.”

“Nice to meet you, Luke,” Mel says, finally recovering from her trance. “You have any events today?”

“We did,” he says, though he seems to be talking more to you than to Mel. “Placed silver, so we can’t complain.” When you two congratulate him, he nearly brushes you off. “I have heard your team is looking like you’re going to go all the way this year. It is fun to watch.”

“We’re having a good run,” you respond, and he nods at you with that same breathtaking smile. “We’ll see what happens though.”

“Yeah, you are good.” Luca pauses for a moment, then shrugs coyly. “You’re American, so you are not as good as France, but you are up there.”

You see Mel’s head tilt out of the corner of your eye. “Easy now,” she warns with a light-hearted smile. “We beat them by two in our first match.”

Luca throws his hands up, grin turning teasing. “Just telling the truth. I must support my own.”

“Well,” you say, brow furrowed. “We’ll see when we get to the finals.”

“Oui. I believe that we will,” he responds. You notice that he’s leaned in closer than you had previously anticipated and the realization makes your face heat. “We should put a wager on it.”

“You want me to bet on my own team?” you ask rather bluntly, hearing Mel cough to cover a laugh.

“I suppose, yes,” Luca answers. The elevator stops at his floor and his eyes flick to the number on the small screen. “If France wins in your little tournament, you must purchase me a drink when these games are over. But if you win…” He trails off with a shrug as the doors open. “I’ll buy you one. It is only fair, no?”

You blink at him, trying to make sense of this entire situation. Is he flirting with you? Setting a friendly bet to get a drink? Just trying to be a jerk by referring to your Olympic Games as a ‘little tournament’? Then again, he was French, so many that’s just the way he spoke.

Yet another nudge from Mel finally has you answering. “I’m the one playing,” you say slowly, cautiously trying to read him. “I feel like I should have a better prize for winning.”

Luca seems to consider this but shrugs once more. “Those are my terms. Even I cannot make exceptions for beautiful women. Do you accept?”

Okay, so maybe he is flirting with you. This beautiful, French, god of a man is potentially flirting with you. You wish he’d upped the stakes by asking you to dinner or something to offer something more direct, but this is what you’re getting. As he exits the elevator, he puts a hand on the door while he awaits your answer. 

But, you don’t know him. You don’t know what he’s like, you don’t know if you’ll want him as a prize if you win, or as a consolation if you lose. But, you figure, it’s just fun. And he’s hot. So why not.

“I’ll consider it,” you decide, mirroring that grin of his.

Luca nods at you, motioning to the hallway behind him. “The deal expires soon. And now you know where to find me.” The smile returns. “So find me if you’re interested.”

And with that, your movie-star-looking, strange Frenchman saunters off down the hall, leaving you with a million questions and an American soccer player who’s gaping at you.

“That was the hottest man I’ve ever seen in my life,” Mel says, staring at the now-closed doors. “I’m not even into that and… And he… And you said you’d consider getting a drink with him?”

“He made a bet with me,” you argue. “He didn’t ask me out. And even if he did, I didn’t say no.”

Mel looks at you like you’re both insane and the dumbest person alive. “I think we need to get you checked for a fucking concussion, because… what?”

“He didn’t!” you insist, suddenly doubting your own instincts. “Did he?”

The elevator stops and Mel makes a break for the doors. “I can’t even look at you right now.”

You watch helplessly as Mel walks toward your dorm, muttering things about you under her breath that you can barely hear. The second you step off the elevator to follow, you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. 

Get some sleep, Fourteen. You’ve earned it. I’ll see you on Wednesday.

You find yourself smiling down at your phone, and for a moment, all thoughts of missed signs and Mel’s words go quiet. you too, you reply. big game tomorrow. and you know i’ll be harassing you like you did to me, so you better bring your a-game.

Before you can open your door to tuck in for the night, you get a response. I’m counting on it.

PRESENT DAY, MID-AUGUST, 2023.

Returning to Chelsea is like having one foot stuck in a dream and the other in a nightmare.

On one hand, it’s nostalgic. It’s loud and boisterous and you can’t escape the blue even if you tried. The field’s in the same pristine condition as you remember and the liveliness of it all engulfs you completely. It makes you think about everything that happened here and how easy it used to be.

But, on the other hand… it makes you think about everything. Those aforementioned easier times were a precursor to your downfall, and it all started here. It was the catalyst. Somehow, this place that had been in your life for an inordinately short period of time still had the same effect on you as it did eight years ago. And when you stare out at the field, you can't help but wonder what if.

As those memories start to creep into your head, you suddenly begin to feel very hot and incredibly overwhelmed. The tunnel you’re standing in is quickly going from something familiar to something more liminal. You swear it’s getting smaller too.

But on a day like today, you know you really can’t be panicking about the past. Your team’s on the field and your coaches are waiting for you to join them. There were more pressing things that were worthy of a panic attack.

You force yourself to take a deep breath and turn to the light emanating from the field at the end of the tunnel. You’d never talked yourself out of a panic attack at the prospect of more important panic, but at this point, you’d take what you could get. Focus on the clamminess of your hands. Focus on how bright the field is and how much it’s hurting your eyes. Focus on running through the new plays you now know like the back of your hand. 

As you walk down the tunnel and go through your maniacal little sense check, you decide to focus on something that you hear. And what you hear snaps you out of whatever state you’re in and makes it all quiet down a little bit. Because as you realize what it is you’re hearing, a very different feeling of… something takes over. 

“—HERE! HE’S THERE! HE’S EVERY-FUCKING-WHERE, ROY KENT! ROY KENT! HE’S—”

It’s nostalgia. It’s dread. It’s pride. It’s irritation. It’s… so many fucking things all at once and you can’t possibly stop yourself from smiling at it. The twinge you feel pulling in your stomach stays with you as you suppress that urge. Damn it.

Despite his final years being spent at Richmond and despite his new coaching status, they still adore him. You’d jokingly called him a “Chelsea Legend” more times than you could count, but it was true. It’s what he was. Not that you’d ever say that out loud.

By the time you make it to the field, Roy’s standing up from the coaches’ bench to show his thanks to the stadium. The cheer is resounding, the song continuing amongst it and you swear under your breath as that feeling lingers. 

It doesn’t go away as he turns to sit back down and meets your gaze instead. And, in typical Roy fashion, while he refused to show any emotion when thanking the city that supported him for years, a fraction of a smile makes its way onto his face when he sees you. 

(God, you hate yourself for noticing.) 

Looking away, you take another steadying breath and make your way to him and the rest of your team. The Richmond pullover you’re sporting rubs against your neck uncomfortably, but before you can fix it, you realize something: the cheers are getting louder. Confused, you look up at the jumbotron, knowing that that type of volume couldn’t possibly be for you. 

Lo and behold, it’s so not for you. It’s for Zava in the owner’s box, who’s staring at the camera like a professional wrestler, egging the crowd on. Right. Of course. Fucking Zava. You take a seat next to Roy as you stare up at the screen. 

“You think we have a chance?” you ask him, and you see him turn to you from the corner of your eye. “I’ve heard Rupert’s been putting in work there.”

Roy huffs. “Fucking twat puts in work everywhere but the things that matter,” he mutters, looking back to Zava. Your brows shoot up in agreement. “Let’s hope Zava’s not stupid enough to fucking fall for it.”

“Rupert knows how to stroke an ego,” you reply, glancing over to Jamie, who was warming up on the field, unsubtly making a very conscious effort to not look up at the screen. “He knows how to get what he wants. Speaking from experience.”

Roy scowls, and it’s a bit deeper than you were expecting. But, before you can dwell on that, he’s moving on. “You alright?” he asks. 

You know it’s meant to be casual on his part, but there’s an undertone of concern that you try to ignore. “Yeah,” you say through a sigh, hesitantly meeting his stare as you feel it boring into your cheek. You sigh again. “I’m good.” There’s a bit more conviction behind your voice this time, and it seems to satisfy him enough. “I’m nervous, but y’know. It’s a game. I’m always nervous before games.”

“I know,” he replies. “I’ve been waiting for you to throw up.”

It’s your turn to scowl now. “I only do that for big games. This is basically summer league.”

(While your sarcasm was flat, it didn’t go unnoticed. This was, in fact, a big game. Perhaps one of the biggest of your life. You’d thrown up twice today. But he didn’t need to know that.)

Roy looks unconvinced, but you’re thankful when he doesn’t press you further. “You know what to do today,” he tells you, and the assurance in his voice is palpable. 

You do know what to do today. You’ve got to prove why you were hired. Be the coach you know you can be. Get over that crippling anxiety that’s eating you alive. But instead of getting back into that, you say, “I know.”

“Fucking shook on it, too. Means you have to do it.”

You refrain from rolling your eyes and slump back into your chair. “Yeah, Roy, I know. I made that rule up. I got it.” With another sigh, you say quietly, “Just let me get there.”

His eyes remain on you. You think he’s going to say something else, but before he can, Ted whistles, calling everyone to attention. As the team rounds up, you and Roy stand.

Instead of saying whatever he was about to, he offers you a nod. 

You got this, he tells you silently. 

And despite the weird, horrendous, painful nether space your relationship currently exists in, the action does make you breathe a little easier. 

You send him one back in thanks.

What doesn’t make you breathe easier, however, is the score at the end of the half. What makes it even worse, is the unprofessional, pedantic Kent Rule that Roy has placed on the team that doesn’t allow anyone to speak in front of Trent Crimm.

Roy’s arms cross over his chest as soon as the writer enters the room, your players quieting down in suit. Your head tips back in annoyance, bracing for whatever’s about to come.

But nothing happens. The team remains quiet and wildly awkward and Trent aptly reads the room. Before he can leave, however, Ted’s calling for him to stay and is asking for Roy to chat.

Roy sends you a glance, then follows his head coach to the back of the room. While the players continue their talks in hushed tones, Beard inches over to where you stand. 

“Did I see a playbook in your bag earlier?” he asks quietly, making you flinch in surprise. “Sorry. I didn’t realize you were listening in to their conversation.”

You shoot Beard a look. “I was not,” you say, even though you so totally were. “And yeah? I, uh, take that with me everywhere.”

Beard nods. “Are they your plays?”

“Most of them,” you reply, shifting uncomfortably. You hadn’t talked about that book with anyone since you coached your college girls, and anyone you had shown it to over at West Ham hadn’t given it the time of day. “Why?”

“I want to see them,” he says, shrugging at your surprised expression. “If you want to show them to someone, that is.”

A small smile pulls at your parted lips, and you nod back at him. “That’d be—”

“CRIMM!”

Roy’s voice startles you again, and this time, it gets Beard too. You both turn to see Roy walking back toward the showers, Trent hesitantly following in tow. Ted offers a small smile to both you and Beard as he returns.

“That’d be great,” you whisper to Beard, finishing your sentence. “Thank you.”

The next few minutes are just as awkward as the previous ones. No one knows exactly what to do, or how the conversation behind you is going to play out. You know how hard it is for Roy to let go of things. Forgiveness was never something he excelled at, especially when it came to more personal topics. Not that you were any better at it.

You look around the locker room, watching each of your players whisper animatedly amongst each other. You were down by one and there were no signs of giving up. Each of them knew they were still in this. Even more so, you hadn’t heard any unkind or unsupportive words spoken since you got into the room. 

Your mind takes you back to the second summer scrimmage you coached at West Ham. You were also down by one at the half, and the atmosphere couldn't have been more different. Blame was being shoved down everyone’s throat, clinging wherever it would stick. Nathan Shelley had reprimanded three players within a minute and all of this was for a scrimmage. Nothing about that game mattered or counted. This, of course, was remedied the second you started winning, and the locker room was a wildly different place when you ended up winning by three.

While West Ham seemed to like each other, there was no sense of camaraderie there. It was nice, but nothing was kind. Richmond seemed like a family. You were starting to see that now. 

It wasn’t something you were able to embrace right now, but there was a growing piece of you that was… hopeful that you’d be able to at some point.

At that realization, you feel your body relax for a moment. Only for it to tense back up again as you’re scared for a third time, by Roy and Trent coming back to the group. As soon as he gives the green light to the team that Trent’s safe, the locker room erupts into relieved chaos.

Jamie starts shouting about the passing lanes. Sam yells out something about Chelsea’s lack of defense. More and more voices begin to speak up to offer their insight, and while they’re all on the right path, nobody’s said the right thing yet.

You can feel the words rising in your throat. Your mind continues to spin. Every thought you’d held on to, every tip you wanted to say, every nerve you had about saying the wrong thing was bubbling within you and you could feel yourself about to burst. 

No more being quiet. No more being afraid. No more being passive.

I know that you know them on the field. But they fucking don’t. And they won’t know it until you fucking show them.

You can feel your hands begin to shake back and forth in anticipation of whatever it is you’re about to say. However, you don’t realize that someone’s been watching you until they step beside you.

“C’mon,” they chide, making you jump, “Fucking say it.”

You don’t have to look to know that it’s Roy, but you still turn your head. His eyes fall from yours, to your hands, then back to your face. He’s familiar enough with your tells to know what’s going on. One part of you is grateful to have that. The other part wants to kill him.

The expression you wear reads hesitance, and you’ve only got about three minutes before the team needs to head back out.

As he continues to stare at you, you can hear his voice in your head. This is your job. You signed up for this. You’re a coach. So fucking coach. 

You take a deep, shuddering breath and ball up your fists to stop the shaking. Fucking say it.

So, amidst the noise and the yelling and the bickering, you do.

“EVERYBODY SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

The silence that takes over the locker room is immediate and deafening. Every single person stares at you in shock, jaws agape and eyes wide as if they couldn’t imagine looking anywhere else. 

Every person but one. And if you were to turn and shake the sudden anxiety of having all attention on you, you’d see him smiling softly to himself, something like pride gracing his typically stoic expression.

It takes a moment before you realize they’re all waiting for you to say something. You glance over at Ted, who, while still a bit taken aback, nods at you encouragingly. 

You’ve got the floor, Coach. Let’s do it.

“You’re all right,” you begin, motioning to each of them as you speak. “Yes, Jamie, they’re blocking the passing lanes. It’s a straight-up wall once you get into the midfield. And yeah, Sam they’re not marking you guys. Because they don’t have to. You’re all just…” You search for the word, throwing a hand up when you land on, “...running around aimlessly out there because you’re trying to see what’s going to work. But you know what will?” 

They all just continue to stare at you. Whether or not it’s because nobody has an answer or because they can’t believe you’re actually talking like this, you don’t care. Because you answer for them. “You make them mark you. Force them to break down that wall. Draw them out, and then pass through the cracks,” you tell them, offering a small grin as you continue. “I know you guys. And I know it hasn’t seemed like it because I’ve been… quieter. But I know the type of team you are, and each of you are so, incredibly good at what you do. You’re way better than what you’re doing out there. Like, way better.”

Your team remains quiet, but you know they’ve snapped out of their surprised trance because they’re smiling at you. And they look on board. Your grin grows as you notice. “So, let’s go out there and start this season off right, huh?”

That gets them up and out of their seats. The boys erupt in a cheer, clapping as they gather around in a circle, each of them putting their hands in the middle. Dani’s voice echoes through the locker room as he yells, “For Coach’s first game!”

Another round of cheers follows before Ted looks over at you. “Couldn’t have said it better myself,” he tells you, and you feel a sense of relief wash over you. “Alright. I second everything she said. Now get out there and show them what you’re made of. Okay, four on three!”

Hands go up after their chant, and the team runs out of the room with a type of energy that you’re not sure you’ve seen before. You hang back for a moment to take a breath.

A hand clamps down on your shoulder, and you turn to see Ted smiling at you. “Nice to hear your voice, Ace,” he says, squeezing it softly. “I hope we’ll hear it some more.”

You send him a thankful smile, nodding in affirmation. “You will.”

Ted squeezes your shoulder once more, heading out behind the team. Beard nods in your direction, looking vaguely impressed in the way that only he can, before following suit. 

That leaves you and Roy in the locker room, and somehow, for the first time, you feel like you can completely relax. A shuddering breath leaves your lips, chest heaving down as you do so. You hear Roy huff when he moves to stand next to you. 

“Well,” he says. “That was one fucking way to do it.”

“I have no idea what I said,” you tell him. “I blacked out after I yelled at everyone to shut up.”

You get a huff of a laugh out of Roy for that one. “You did fine.” He doesn’t miss your dubious look. “I’m serious. You did well.”

“Yeah?” you ask.

Roy nods, expression turning a bit more earnest. “Yeah, Fourteen. You did well.”

The nickname makes a lump form in your throat, and it takes everything in you to ignore it. It’d been a while since you’d heard that one like this. It settles like cement in your stomach and you wish you could shake the feeling. He keeps his gaze on yours until you blink away, focusing on anything but him.

“Thanks,” you manage. Again, because he’s being nice, you suppose you can be too. “And, uh… thanks for pushing me. To do that, I mean.”

Roy nods, albeit a bit uncomfortably. “You needed it.”

“Yeah,” you say again. You hold his stare for one more second before returning his nod, the tension in the air easing within the moment. “Let’s go win a game, Coach.”

You don’t see the way Roy hides a smile as you turn to exit, the reflexive words of ‘not your coach’ on his tongue. But, he bites them back because, well… he is a coach. And so are you.

And as strange as all of this has been for the last week, it hasn't actually felt real to him until now. You’re here. You’re here and working with him and you’re not going anywhere.

The idea of it doesn’t make Roy panic as much as he thought it would.

(Though, unfortunately, that idea is what gets Roy to freak out. But he figures he’s got a bit of time to work that one out.)

LONDON OLYMPICS, EARLY AUGUST, 2012.

“You ever date a swimmer?”

It’s a question you pose to Roy seemingly out of the blue in the middle of one of your many footwork drills of the night. It was all he’d wanted to focus on for tonight’s training session, especially with your quarter-final game against New Zealand on Friday. While the idea of practicing again tomorrow was still up in the air, Roy had insisted on this practice being solely about fixing up what he viewed as your one weakness.

Roy looks up from your feet in confusion. “What?”

“Have you ever dated a swimmer?” you repeat, enunciating your words in a mildly obnoxious manner. “Perhaps a French person? But any swimmer will do.”

He’s still staring at you like you have three heads. “The fuck are you on about?”

You throw your hands up in a shrug. “I’m just asking. I find it hard to believe that amongst the slew of hook-ups I’ve read about, you haven’t slept with a swimmer.”

Those furrowed brows raise in interest at your statement. “Oh, you’ve read about those?”

Your eyes roll. “So not the point of what I was saying. Answer my question.”

“Foxtrot,” he says, watching you look at him in surprise. “Now shut the fuck up and finish your drills.”

“You really want to use our newly-established one Foxtrot of the hour on a simple topic like this?” you question.

Apparently, he doesn’t. “No, I haven’t dated a swimmer,” he finally tells you, exasperated. He glances down at your feet. “Stay on your toes. That fucking left foot of yours is always fucking flat.” Still staring at your feet and ignoring the way you roll your eyes, he inquires, “Why the fuck are you asking? And why do they have to be French?”

“I think I got asked out by one yesterday,” you say. Roy’s gaze meets yours with a speed that nearly makes you stumble in the middle of your drill. “But I can’t tell if he was being a weird little jerk or if he’s just French.”

While his lips twitch up at the last part of your statement, he seems more stuck on the first. “You think you were asked out?”

“Okay, it was strange,” you reply, sounding a tad defensive and slightly breathless. “He was kind of like, negging me? Which, you know, I’m now used to because I started hanging out with you.” Roy shoots you a look, but you carry on anyway. “But he was all, ‘oh yeah, you’re good. But not as good as the French team.’ And then he was like, ‘how about this, if France beats you guys, you have to buy me a drink. But if you win, I’ll buy you one.’ So, I’m kind of confused.” You stop your footwork as Roy’s stopwatch goes off and you take a moment to catch your breath. “And I’m honest enough to admit that I was only entertaining it because he was hot, but I truly can’t tell if he’s flirting with me and asking me out because he thinks we’ll win, or if he’s trying to get free drinks out of me because he thinks we’ll lose.”

“He was asking you out,” Roy says bluntly, continuing to look unimpressed. “He did a fucking horrendous job of it, but yeah. He’s interested.”

You nod, absorbing this for a second before throwing your hands up. “Why do guys do that?” 

“Do what?” he asks. “Ask girls out?”

Your expression quickly matches his. “Yes, exactly. I’d love for you to explain what happens when a man loves a woman, Roy,” you deadpan, biting back a smile as you see one grow on his lips. “No, dickhead. Why do guys think that… that’s the way to ask someone out? Like, I love a little banter as much as the next girl, but you gotta be good at it. And if you’re not good at it…” You shrug. “I don’t know. If you’re bad at flirting, you’re bad at flirting. That’s okay. That just means you’ve just gotta be direct with how you’re feeling.”

There’s a brief moment where Roy seems to consider this, but shakes his head soon after. “Some don’t know how.”

“Well, they should take classes from you or something,” you reply. “Because you’re the most direct guy I know.”

Roy’s scowl deepens. “Thanks.”

“That’s a compliment,” you say, pointing at him. His expression doesn’t change. “I’m serious. I appreciate it. You’re never afraid to tell me shit. It’s admirable.” A wry grin spreads across your face. “Flirting with you must be a three-sentence interaction.”

He casts his eyes up to the night sky. “Fuck’s sake, you’re on one tonight.”

“No, I’m curious. How do you do it?” you press with raised brows. “You told me when we met that if you were trying to ‘chat me up,’ I’d know it. So, c’mon. How does the magic happen?”

Though you were sure that it was impossible, Roy somehow looks even less impressed. “Foxtrot,” he all but snaps at you, making a low noise at the way you crush your lips together to hold back a laugh. “And I’m fucking serious about it this time. Using my one for the hour, or whatever the fuck.”

“Fine, fine,” you say, honoring your established rule with a surrender. “You don’t want to waste your succinct flirting charms on me, I get it. I won’t push you.”

Roy scoffs under his breath, fidgeting with his stopwatch. “They wouldn’t be.”

The words make you pause. “What?”

The stopwatch in his hand beeps as he finishes fiddling with the buttons. “You said they’d be wasted on you.” His eyes flick up to catch yours. “I can guarantee it wouldn’t be a waste.”

He speaks so casually that you almost don’t know what to do. You can’t tell what he means. Would his efforts not be a waste because he… likes you? That he wouldn’t even try if he wasn’t interested? Or is he just so confident in his abilities that he thinks he could get you that easily? That he could turn it on within minutes and make you rethink your entire, weird little friendship that you’ve started over this week? Because, to your knowledge, Roy hasn’t shown any sort of sign that he’s interested in you.

Or has he? Was Mel right again? Have you been reading this situation wrong? Was his bickering and negging his strange way of trying to flirt with you? Getting in your ear during drills? Texting you during games? Calling you an anomaly?

You nearly shake the thought out of your head. He’s Roy Kent. He’s quite literally known for being stoic, for his confrontational personality, and for his hotheaded tendencies. You’ve seen all of those traits since you started training together and nothing’s tipped you off that it could be anything more than friendly. Or whatever his version of friendly is.

You’ve also seen the kinds of women he dates. They’re actresses, singers, models, heiresses-- rich London elite. The shitty little one-bedroom you’ve got back home cries out in shame in the back of your mind. The Team USA Nike campaign that you were barely a part of for the World Cup taunts you. Actress, singer, model, and heiress you were not.

You’re not sure if he sees the look of confusion on your face, but you turn away before you can confirm anything. “Right,” you say, drawing the word out slightly. You kick the ball you’d almost forgotten about toward him. “Anyway. I’m bored of these drills. I need to do something else or I’ll go insane.”

Roy receives your pass, placing his foot on top of the ball with a quirked brow. There’s a hint of a smirk on his face as he attempts to gauge your reaction, momentarily throwing you off. “When have you ever had a say about what goes on in these sessions?”

“Well, never. But I think that says more about your coaching style than it does about anything else, despot.”

Roy rolls his eyes for the umpteenth time that night. He’s found that it’s something he tends to do frequently when you’re around. “I told you that footwork’s the only thing we’re working on tonight.”

“Yeah, but I’m bored,” you repeat. “Don’t you have like… I don’t know. Games we can play?”

“Games?” he parrots. He almost sounds offended. “What, are you five years old?”

You completely ignore his comment and gasp, pointing at him. “Let’s play knockout.”

“Again, I ask, are you fucking five years old?”

You look at him, pouting as you slouch over. “C’mon,” you practically whine. “It’s totally a footwork drill. But it’s fun. And it’s better than you just standing there menacingly with a stopwatch like you’re Frankie Dunn.”

Roy looks at you, then hesitates. “You’re a terrible fucking negotiator.”

That moment of hesitation lets you know that you’ve almost got him. While you may be a terrible negotiator, you’re something else: observant. The thing you’ve learned about Roy is that he physically can’t back down from a challenge. You know that there’s something ironic in that, but you figure that’s why you two have worked together so well so far.

So, your eyes narrow and you allow yourself to step forward to do just that; challenge him. “And you’ve got South Korea in a couple days. From what I saw last night, you need the practice.”

Roy’s head tilts, the beginnings of a dangerous smile twisting the corners of his lips. “Is that right?”

“I recall a lost possession toward the end of the first half that easily could have been avoided,” you say, sticking your leg out to kick the ball out from beneath his foot. The faux passive tone you’ve taken on nearly dissolves at the way his eyes darken. “For the amount that Chelsea's Finest goes on and on about footwork, you’d think he’d be better at it.”

Something between you two shifts the second those words leave your mouth. You’re not sure if it’s the way he’s looking at you (or continues to look at you, God, you don’t think he’s blinked yet) or if it’s your new proximity, but things feel completely different from when you started. The stare you’re holding is charged. It’s not just a challenge anymore— there’s something else there. It makes your mind whirl.

Roy’s voice is low when he asks, “What would you have done differently?”

It’s not what you were expecting, but it offers you a reason to look away from his piercing gaze, take a breath, and shrug. “I don’t know,” you say. “Crossed my mark up a little. Probably would have sent it up the field. Your striker was practically begging to be passed to.” You glance back up at him, with a smile that borders on teasing. “Definitely wouldn’t have hit my mark as hard as you did when you lost the ball.”

“He fucking dove,” is his response, sounding only slightly annoyed. But, when he sees you chuckle, he comes back to, “Who was open upfield?”

His question is genuine, like he’s actually interested in hearing your answer. “I don’t know. Didn’t recognize him. I think he’s a rookie,” you reply with yet another shrug. “But if you led him a little bit, he would have been open.” Roy’s brow draws as he hums something affirmative. When you realize he’s actually thinking about the play, considering what you’re saying, you can’t help but throw in, “Plays like that happen when you’re thinking ahead, Coach.”

Your tone has Roy glaring down at you, and you can feel the look sear through you. “And the goal that happened immediately after that was all instinct.”

“Maybe,” you say noncomittally. "But it could have been better if you all had thought ahead."

That tension between you shifts again, but this time, it’s in a way you’re really not expecting. When Roy looks back at you, there’s something disbelieving in his eyes. As if he can’t figure you out. But it’s also something almost… fond. “You really watched the game last night.”

It’s a question that comes out sounding like a statement. You’re not sure why he looks so surprised or why the emotional state of this conversation keeps going back and forth, but you say the only thing you can think to: the truth.

“You watch mine,” you reply as if the answer was obvious. “And believe it or not, I like watching you play.” Roy blinks at you, obviously not expecting that. For good measure, you add, “Being on the field actually gives you a reason to be a dick, so.”

That same searing stare returns, and it fixates on you long enough to make you itch. You don’t break it, but you rock back and forth on your heels, thinking for a second, maybe you said the wrong thing. Maybe it was a little too real, or a little too friendly.

But before you can sweat it too much, Roy dips his head. “Fuck,” he mutters, shaking his head in disbelief. “Fucking hell, fine. One round of knockout, you fucking child.”

“Seriously?” you ask, not even trying to hide the excitement in your voice.

“Yeah. Get the ball. Let’s go.”

You beam at him, running to go grab the ball you’d kicked away from him previously. When you turn back, you find he’s moving to get his own. “If I’d known you’re this easily swayed by flattery, I would have started being way nicer to you earlier.”

“Don’t push it,” he calls out. Despite the fact he’s not facing you, you can picture the look on his face. “And don’t be fucking nice to me. I want to see you pissed.”

“But we’re playing knockout,” you say, as he turns and kicks his football in your direction. “How can I be pissed?”

Roy smirks. “I’m sure I can find a way.”

“Oh, I’m sure you can too. But why do you want me pissed?”

“Because you play better when you’ve got something to prove,” he tells you. Then, he shrugs. “That, and… well, I wasn’t lying.” 

You scrunch your brow. “About what?”

“It’s a good fucking look on you,” he says, meeting your gaze once more. “I might have to piss you off more often.”

Oh. Right, right, right. Totally. Ignoring the way that that makes your cheeks go warm, you reply, “Well, like you said. I’m sure you’ll find a way.”

That’s when Roy smiles at you. It’s accompanied by a chuckle and while it’s not a full grin, it’s something warm and mildly sweet. However, for the first time, you’re stuck by how good he looks. You’d always thought he was good-looking, but you’d never been attracted to him. But for some reason, right here, right now, some switch has flipped. 

The realization churns your stomach and makes you physically look away from him. “C’mon, let’s play,” you say, hoping your forced nonchalance hides anything you’re currently feeling. “I like watching you lose.”

Roy huffs, sounding just a bit incredulous. “Whatever you say.”

PRESENT DAY, MID-AUGUST, 2023.

You walk away from the Chelsea pitch with a tie. And frankly, you’ll take it.

You’ve never seen a team more excited about a draw. They’re rowdy as they gather back into the locker room, and you feel a hint of a grin rising as you watch them from the hall. The petty part of your brain again has you comparing what this would have been like if you still worked at West Ham. Shelley would have berated your players (and likely his coaching staff) about how pathetic a draw was. West Ham was the superior team of the league, after all. Their record had to show for it.

It’s then that a sudden realization comes crashing down on you. Fuck. West Ham. PR. You have to do press with Ted.

As if he could hear his name rattling around in your mind, your head coach steps in beside you. He nudges your elbow with his. “You alright there, Ace?”

You nod quickly, like that’ll hide the panic you know is written across your face. “Yeah, Coach. I’m alright.”

When he folds his hands behind his back, you know he isn’t buying what you’re selling. “You still okay to do this with me?” he asks, motioning to the press room down the hall.

“I’ve done press before,” you reply, though your mildly defensive tone tells him that you’re not certain if you’re assuring him or yourself. At the way he dips his head, you sigh in defeat. “I’ve done this before. Just… never at this level. Or for these reasons.”

Ted nods in understanding. “You know you don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with.”

“I know,” you say, because you do.

“And I’ll be there beside you the whole time. I can take over whenever you need me to.” He nudges you again. “I ain’t too bad with all this press stuff. And I’m more than happy to make a fool of myself if it gets too tough. Really give ‘em something to talk about.”

That gets you to look up at him wearily. “I’m scared to know what that means.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I don’t think we’ll get there,” he says, earning a chuckle from you in response. A beat passes before he looks at you again. “You ready?”

A long, sharp sigh exits your body. When you inhale, you turn back to him. “Yeah.”

“Good,” he says, nodding toward the room. “Let’s go quiet ‘em all down.”

You surprise yourself with an involuntary smile, but it gives you the confidence to follow him.

The press room is abuzz as you approach it and they get even more lively when you enter. You can hear your name being said from every direction and the chaos makes your hands shake. You’ve done this before, you tell yourself. You used to be good at these. It’s part of being a coach. You wanted this. You know how to do this.

Ted, who’s been leading the way, steps out to allow you to go up the stairs first. You clasp your hands together as you walk up, praying that this isn’t the moment your feet choose to fail you and make you trip. Luckily, you avoid disaster and make your way to the further of the two chairs on stage.

You look out into the sea of reporters, eye each of the cameras, and continue to play with your fingers as if it’s the answer to calming your nerves. You don’t realize things have gotten started until you hear Ted’s voice.

“Alright, alright, alright,” he greets the room, and you can’t help but envy how easily the words come out. “Afternoon everyone. What have you got for us today?” All hands in the room immediately go up, each reporter’s eyes shifting from you, to Ted, then back to you. Everyone’s got the same question on their minds. Everyone, except the guy that Ted picks, apparently. “Yeah, Alec. What do you got for us?”

Alec The Reporter stands. “How are we feeling about starting the season with a draw, Coach?”

Thank you, Alec, for starting with the easy question. “Well, I mean, I think we both would have liked a win,” Ted replies, looking over at you. You try your best at a smile and nod along. “But we’re proud of our boys. They turned it around after that first half, due mostly to the insight of our new coach over here. So, I think we’re feeling good about this start.” 

Alec sits down, satisfied with the answer. Before Ted calls on the next reporter, he glances at you. You nod once. You’re ready.

Ted points at a blonde woman toward the back of the room. “Sarah, how are we doing?”

Sarah The Reporter stands now. “Very well, thank you.” Her attention is immediately on you. “Coach,” she says, addressing you. “How was your first game with Richmond?”

Easing it into it, are we? You clear your throat and keep that smile plastered on your face. You can practically hear Roy yelling from the locker room for you to loosen up. “Not echo Coach Lasso, but I’m feeling good. Definitely would have liked a win, but it’s not a loss.”

You don’t think you could have given a more generic, neutral answer if you had tried. Maybe simply answering with ‘good’ would have been worse, but you doubt it. Sarah’s not done with you. “I was more referencing the dynamics of the team in your first game. The culture, if you will.”

Then come right out and say that then, don’t be weird and coy. You fight back a scowl and in doing so, your grin cracks slightly. The phrasing isn’t lost on you. Dynamics. Culture. They’re all words Rupert used just days ago. Stick to the script. Talking points. Don’t let them bait you.

“The Richmond culture’s definitely different,” you reply, perhaps putting too much emphasis on the word. To save yourself, you add, “But I think that’s to be expected when coaching Men's sports. Bit of a different world over here.” You offer a shrug, hoping your smile returns to what it was. “I’m very grateful to the Richmond team and staff for welcoming me with open arms into the warm environment they’ve created.”

You hope Rebecca and Keeley are somewhere cheering you on. That was sweet, neutral, and non-confrontational. Everything you wanted to be. Everything you should be in this line of questioning.

Ted nods at Sarah, cueing her to sit down. He points to a reporter in the front. “Marcus, yeah.”

It’s Marcus The Reporter’s turn to stand. And he comes out swinging. “No use in beating around the bush,” he says, eyes on you. “Do you have any response to Rupert Mannion’s comments about you and your tenure at West Ham?”

This is it. You feel Ted’s foot nudge yours encouragingly as you nod at Marcus and take a breath. Just as rehearsed. You got this.

“There’s not much to say that Mr. Mannion hasn’t already,” you answer slowly. “Unfortunately, some things like that just don’t work out. I too was not happy with the note that we ended on and wish it could have worked out our differences. But that’s all it was. Differences. There aren’t any hard feelings or any sort of bad blood between us. West Ham is a great team that I was honored to be a part of for the time that I was allowed. I’m sure they’ll have a fantastic season and can’t wait to meet them in a couple of weeks.”

You nearly let out a sigh of relief when you finish, thankful that that’s fucking done. The lies don’t sit right on your tongue and feel as though they’re rotting your teeth, but you don’t care. You got it all out, didn’t slip up or trip up, and can hopefully put this to bed.

However, unfortunately for you, Marcus doesn’t seem to be satisfied. Because he’s got a follow-up question you’re not at all prepared for. “And what of Tom MacDonald’s recent comments?”

The world stops. It comes to a complete, emergency-braked fucking halt and you feel as though someone’s punched you in the stomach. You feel like you’ve been ambushed, but you know that if you could have been prepared for this, you would have been. This must have happened today. Perhaps, even moments before this. You can feel Ted’s eyes on the side of your face almost immediately.

He… made comments? He spoke about you?

You can feel your throat constricting, but manage to get a couple words out in a relatively neutral-sounding tone. “I’m not sure what comments you’re referring to.”

“In his post-game interview about a half-hour ago,” Marcus says, glancing down at his notes to read. “He said, quote, ‘My best wishes are to Miss USA and her new Richmond team. I hope she finds her place with them, as I don’t think she ever really found hers here. But, you know, I guess you can’t really know until you really try to get to know the lads in the locker room and in the Coaches' Offices, huh?’”

Your breath’s been stolen from you. You can feel your nose and eyes start to burn as you stare Marcus down, steeling the look on your face. Refusing to show any type of emotion or reaction to that, you gather yourself.

What a fucking prick. What an absolute, horrendously evil, fucking asshole he is. You can imagine the look on his face when he said that. The smarmy fucking smile that accompanied it, the casual nonchalance of which he spewed that last part out with. You want to burn him. You want to destroy his life, his career, everything. The audacity he was to even bring up the locker room and the… 

You feel physically ill. You could throw up on the spot, but there’s something in you that’s keeping you from doing so. As the silence in the room festers, you feel Ted’s foot tap against yours again.

Do you need me to make a fool of myself? His eyes ask as you meet them. 

Quickly, you shake your head. You can do this. You’ve done this before. You used to be good at these. Don’t let him get to you like this. Don’t let either of them win.

You know you won’t come forward with what happened. You can’t. But you weren’t going to sit on your hands anymore. You wouldn’t be neutral anymore. Neutral. That was the word of the day. 

Fuck the word.

You allow another moment of silence to pass before you blink and refocus on Marcus. “I…” you begin, collecting yourself. You can feel the anger rise within you and you know it shows in your eyes. You’ve never been able to hide that. “I do, actually.”

(Somewhere in the Chelsea facilities, Rebecca Walton and Roy Kent are glued to different TVs broadcasting your conference. Rebecca’s unsure if she should be praying that you’ll tear West Ham apart or writhing in fear at the idea of what’s about to come out of your mouth. Roy, however, clocked the look in your eye immediately and can’t remember the last time he’s smiled this big.)

“As I said previously,” you start, straightening your back with a new, harder, more confident tone, “I’m also disappointed with the way that things ended between me and my former team. I also wish things could have been different and that I could have found my place. However, Mr. Mannion was correct when he assumed that I experienced a bit of a culture shock when I joined the club. However, I can’t blame anyone or anything for that but my own expectations for what I assumed AFC Football was going to be.” You offer a smaller, slightly more pleasant grin to the reporters and cameras. “But I can confirm that Richmond has met all of those aforementioned expectations within my first week. I’m excited to continue my journey with them and can’t wait to see where we go this season.”

Hands immediately fly up in response to your answer, follow-up questions galore. You glance over at Ted for a moment (who looks like he’s unsure whether he should be proud of you or sweating this), then suddenly find that a group of people are being ushered into the press room. You eyes lock with the man in the center, and he stares right back at you with an intensity you’re not sure you’ve seen before. Zava.

“And on that note,” you say, quieting everyone down. Relief washes over you now that you have an excuse to leave the room, “I think we’ve run out of time for questions concerning me. We’ve got something much more important to cover.”

When they all see that you’re referring to Zava, the room erupts into even more chaos. You couldn’t possibly be out of your chair faster, ready to make a break for it, and run to the bathroom. Ted’s on your heels as you exit, running in front of you to stop you as you make it to the hall.

“Woah, woah, slow down there,” he says with a soft laugh. “Runnin’ out of there faster than Tom Cruise in— well, any of the Mission Impossible movies, I guess.” You don’t meet his eye, or offer him any sort of pity laugh, something he catches immediately. “You alright, Ace?”

“Yeah,” you say shortly. God, you don’t want to cry in front of your head coach. “I’m good.”

He sees right through you. God, why is everyone at Richmond so fucking in touch with other people’s emotions? “Is there something you want to talk about? Maybe something I should know about—”

“No.” It’s a conversation ender and Ted steps back from you. You squeeze your eyes shut, wanting nothing less than to deal with this right now. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—” With a deep breath, you move away from him. “I’m fine. Really. Thank you for your help in there, Coach. And thank you for a wonderful first week.”

You even don’t hear what Ted has to say in response to that before you’re beelining for the bathroom and locking yourself in a stall, finally allowing the tears that had been welling in your eyes to fall.

Zava announces that he'll be joining Richmond and thirty minutes, later you find yourself in a 'Coaches Group Chat' reading a message from Ted.

After you'd collected yourself, you had the full intention of pretending like everything was normal. You refused to let him win or get the better of your emotions, or fucking... whatever. So, the second you received that text, you immediately signed yourself up for whatever Ted wanted you to do. 

Coaches’ Celebration at Crown and Anchor, the text from him reads. Be there or be square.

However, apparently, you’re the only one who’s concerned with being square, because none of your fellow coaches have shown up yet. There’s a group of three guys sitting at a table in the corner, yelling things at the screen every few minutes. You see a couple who are throwing darts at the end of the bar. There’s a lone man with a pint at the hightop by the door, texting away on his phone. But Ted, Beard, and Roy were nowhere to be found.

The bartop’s nearly abandoned, so you choose a seat in the middle, making sure to reserve three extras. When the woman behind the bar turns to serve you, you can tell she immediately recognizes you, and the smile she offers is warm.

“Good showing today,” she tells you. Then, she shrugs. “Would have liked a win.”

A surprised laugh escapes you. “You and me both.”

“What’ll it be?” she asks.

You hesitate for a moment, glancing at the door. “Um, I’m meeting people here. I—”

“Oh. Right. That’s tonight,” she says, with a knowing look in her eye. Your brow scrunches. “When he gets here, call me over. My name’s Mae.”

Before you can question that cryptic fucking sentence or correct her and let her know that you’re meeting people (plural) here, the pub door opens. Roy walks through, nodding once he sees you.

He grabs the stool to your left. “Nice press conference today,” he says in greeting, taking a seat. 

The teasing note in his voice makes you scowl. “Shut up. I was nervous.”

“I liked the part where you called Rupert a lying prick who needs to keep his mouth shut.”

“That’s not even close to what I said.”

Roy chuckles. “You might as well have. That was a media-trained ‘fuck you’ if I’ve ever seen one.”

God, you could really use that drink now. “I wasn’t even trained for that one,” you admit sheepishly. ”I literally don’t know where that came from. I was like, possessed by some bitchy politician or something.”

“She’d have my vote.”

“She shouldn’t. She’d start a global thermonuclear war because someone implied that she was difficult to work with.” You make a face at Roy as he chuckles. “Besides, I don’t think a Roy Kent endorsement would do her any favors.”

“Probably not,” Roy agrees. “Only person I’ve ever endorsed was you, and look where we are.”

You roll your eyes, casting them to the door. “Oh, my God. Okay, where are Ted and Beard?”

“They’re not coming,” a voice says as they round the bar. Mae stands before you once more, wiping her hands on a rag. 

You and Roy stare at her. “What do you mean they’re not coming?” you ask.

“I mean, they’re not coming,” Mae repeats matter-of-factly. Confusion takes over your expression. “They lured you two here and I’ve been given a ridiculous amount of money to keep you here until the two of you…” She glances down at her phone. “Fix your issues and…” Mae squints at the text she’s reading from. “...’Have whatever conversation you’ve been tiptoeing around.’”

By the time Mae looks up, you’re gaping at her and Roy’s already out of his seat. 

“You’re kidding,” you say faintly, praying that she’ll answer yes.

You have no such luck. “I’m not.”

“Fuck this,” Roy mutters. “I’m not getting fucking trapped at a fucking pub with you on a Sunday night because our stupid fucking team doesn’t understand fucking boundaries.”

You throw a thumb over your shoulder in the direction he’s looking to leave. “I second that. No offense, you seem lovely,” you tell Mae, “but I’m not staying here.”

“Unfortunately, you are,” Mae responds, nodding to the man who was sitting alone at the hightop, who stands up to block the door. He’s got to be the tallest man you’ve ever seen, and he’s built. You have no idea where he came from, but the sight of him alone gives you pause.

Roy’s on that same wavelength because he stops in his tracks, glaring at him. “This is fucking insane,” he says, looking back over to Mae.

“I agree,” she says, then nods to the window. “Take it up with them.”

You follow Mae’s line of sight to see Ted and Beard, sharing a pair of binoculars to stare at the two of you When they realize they’ve been spotted, Beard slowly removes the binoculars from his eyes and glares at Roy. Ted at least offers the dignity of a pity wave.

“Whatever they’re paying you,” you begin. “Roy will double it.”

Roy narrows his eyes. “I will?”

“Yes. You will.”

“Why the fuck am I the one paying? We’ve got the same fucking salary now.”

You whip around in your seat to glare at him, exasperation in your voice as you say, “Oh, my God, you played in the AFC for twenty years. I was in women’s sports for thirteen. We’re not even close to the same tax bracket.”

Roy considers this for approximately two seconds, then turns back to Mae. “Whatever they’re paying you, I’ll fucking double it.”

Mae shrugs, clearly not budging. “I’m a woman of my word, Mr. Kent,” she replies. Then, she motions to the clock on the wall. “I’ve promised to keep you here for at least an hour. What you do after that is none of my business.”

As Mae walks away, you stare at the bartop, truly unable to accept that this is happening in your present reality. There’s no way you’re doing this— no way that Roy’s doing this. This is fucking ridiculous, it’s wildly unprofessional, and—

—And Roy’s sitting down. You slowly raise your head to watch him pull out the barstool, slump into the chair, and put his face in his hands as if he can’t believe he’s actually going through with this. 

He’s giving in. He’s not putting up a fight. He’s obeying the wishes of his friends, he’s resigned to the cause, he’s… he’s putting himself in a position to have the conversation you two have been dreading since you began at Richmond.

Oh, fuck. Fuck. This is really happening.

You glance back over to the window where Beard stands, and he lowers his binoculars when he sees you looking. He sends you a simple, affirmative nod, raising the device to his eyes once more. 

“I assume you’ll be needing those drinks now,” Mae says from the end of the bar, two pint glasses in her hands.

You don’t think you or Roy have ever said ‘yes’ faster.

TAGLIST: @dark-academia-slut @tegan8314, @csigeoblue, @confessionsofatotaldramaslut, @thatonedogwithablog, @hawkeyeharrington, @jamieolivia27, @seatbacksandtraytables, @luvr-bunnyy

[mcwriting]

The Marriage Project (12)

Hi all!!! This is the long awaited 12th chapter! It took months of rewrites of not only this chapter, but future ones as well to ensure this was written to the best of my ability.

This chapter marks the heaviest moment in this story, so please, please be mindful of the content warnings for this chapter. I marked the section that includes this moment.

I also chose not to add tags so that this is not everyone's first impression of this series!

Masterlist

Word Count: 2700

Warnings: s*xual ass*ult, language, alcohol consumption, blood/injury mention

% end of the first week of November- cont. %

Throughout the game, you and the other homecoming court members (aside from any football players or cheerleaders) had been sitting on the sidelines right in front of the student section, so you were somewhat able to talk to your friends.

The team was playing good in the first half. It was probably Tom’s best game that you’d ever seen. At halftime, they did the “official” crowning of court members and recognized football and cheer seniors.

The seniors were presented first, having their parents with them as they walked across the field. They started with the cheer team so Daisy could change back into her white dress.

Then came the court recognitions, you and Tom stepping onto the field after everyone else as the crowd cheered and clapped.

Tom’s arm linked around yours as he helped you stay steady walking across the grass, since your heels weren't quite meant for the soft ground. Someone handed you a large bundle of roses and you smiled widely.

The bright lights, the cheers, the smile Tom gave you.

It was a moment burned into your memory forever.

Then it was over, and the team went back to their game, winning 42-27, their best win by far all season.

You were saying your final thank you’s to people’s congratulatory comments as you began heading out to the parking lot. Alexis caught up with you amidst the chaos.

“You still on for Tyler’s? I’ll drive,” she offered.

“Yeah. Let’s go home so I can change and then we’ll head out, okay?” you said, finally getting to your car.

She followed you to your house, where you changed into a tight long-sleeved bodysuit, skinny jeans, and some heeled booties. You also packed some other things into a bag to sleep at Alexis’s house later.

You told your parents you were staying the night at her house. They definitely knew better by the way you’d left on your makeup and put on real clothes, but didn’t question you, instead tossing out a “stay safe” and “don’t do anything stupid” as you headed out the door.

Things were pretty much in full swing by the time you and Alexis pulled into the yard outside Tyler’s house and found your friends inside, red solo cups in hand. The speakers were blaring something with a strong beat and most people were dancing.

You had a white claw to loosen up. After having refrained from partying throughout volleyball season, Alexis would be designated driver for the night to let you have your fun. You saw plenty of football players hanging around but didn’t find Tom anywhere.

Weird.

*CW below*

After a little bit, you ran off to use the bathroom just down a hall. You went alone since it would only be a couple minutes, you knew everyone there, and weren’t drunk.

When you stepped back into the hall, you almost ran into a large figure. It was Harrison.

“Oh, hi there, little lady,” he sneered.

“Fuck off, Harrison.” you commanded, brushing past him. He grabbed your wrist and yanked you back.

“I don’t think you want to be saying that to me,” he pinned you against the wall. His breath reeked of alcohol. You looked around, but it was dark and no one was close enough to see your predicament.

“What the hell do you want? I’m just here to have fun.”

“And what do you think I’m doing huh? Don’t think I forgot about that little stunt you pulled going to Johnson. It’s your fault I missed two games.”

“Don’t think so buddy. Maybe if you respected women you wouldn’t have been in trouble in the first place. Now get off me,” you commanded, trying to push forward.

Big mistake.

He drove a knee between your legs and placed a hand over your chest, gripping your breast so tightly it hurt. For the first time, you were actually scared, but still stared directly into his eyes.

“Nah. I just think you’re too much of a pussy to take me. Now you’re gonna stay quiet or something much worse is gonna come to you,” he threatened, then placed his lips on your neck.

You squeezed your eyes shut to focus your thoughts. It was like you were frozen in shock and pain.

His other hand started sliding up the inside of your thigh when you panicked, kneeing him in the groin and shoving him from you before sending a fist into his jaw.

You were thankful he was drunk, as it made him disoriented and off balance.

Harrison reeled back, looking at you in confusion as he bent over, holding his mouth in pain. There was blood around his gums. He looked at you angrily before another voice called out.

“What the hell is going on here? I thought I told you to stay away from her,” Tom seethed. There was a fire in his eyes that you’d never seen before.

“You think I really care what you have to say? I was just trying to teach y/n a little lesson about consequences,” Harrison replied, slurring his words, before spitting blood onto the hardwood floor and pointing a finger right in your face. “You really think a couple hits are going to stop m-”

Tom was about to step forward to do something when rage overtook you and you threw another punch to his nose, causing him to fall backwards unconscious.

Tom looked down in shock at the limp body beneath you, then back up to you. Once your eyes met, his features softened.

“Y/n? Are you okay?” he asked, stepping over Harrison and guiding you away from him. As you finally began processing what had happened, tears slipped down your cheeks.

“I… he- he…” you couldn’t get the words out and your breath quickened.

“Hey, hey. I know. You don’t have to say anything. It wasn't your fault. Can I hug you?”

*end CW*

You sniffled and nodded, not meeting his eyes. He engulfed you in his arms, rubbing your back as you buried your face in his neck. Your chest throbbed from Harrison’s grip and knuckles ached from where they’d met his face twice.

After a few minutes, you straightened up and wiped your face, trying to be tough. Harrison was still out cold on the floor.

“Do you want me to go get your friends?” he asked, to which you nodded. He ran off and only a minute later came Alexis and Caroline.

They fawned over you, making sure you were okay. Tom put a hand on either of your arms and looked you directly in the eyes.

“I’m going to make sure he and his awful friends leave, okay? You haven’t done anything wrong.”

The girls led you back into the bathroom while Tom began dragging Harrison off. They helped you clean the mascara stains on your cheeks and make sure you were okay. After about 10 minutes, you finally felt confident enough to go back out.

When you got back to the main room, word had it that Tom, Jake, Chris, and some of the other guys were making sure Harrison’s crew would leave and not come back.

Knowing that you were safe from him finally, you decided to drink in the hopes of forgetting what happened for a little bit and have some fun. You started off with a shot of strawberry lemonade vodka, which led to shotgunning a beer and tossing back another shot (or two) of bacardi.

Not a half hour later and you were plastered. You went crazy on the dance floor, jumping around like a fool as different people came up to dance with you.

You were barely aware of what you were doing and extremely clumsy. The room was turning as you clambered up onto a table. You were spinning in circles until your shoe’s heel missed the edge and you started to topple over.

You couldn’t even react, but after a second realized you hadn’t hit the ground, and were instead in Tom’s arms.

“Alright I think it’s time for you to take a breather,” he said. It was hard to understand him as his voice sounded distant. He carried you out of the warm room and outside, where the cold air hit you like a truck. He set you down on the edge of Tyler’s porch.

“Y/n are you okay? After everything that happened I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

What he said wasn’t funny, but you found yourself cackling anyways.

“Better than everrr! Did you see my twerking?”

“Yes, yes I did. Are you feeling okay? Your face is super red. You aren’t nauseous?”

You shook your head with a big grin.

“I’m fiiiineee, pretty boy. Just because you’re my husssband doesn’t mean you have to follow me everywhere! I’m alllll gooood.” You slumped onto his shoulder, still giggling.

“Alright, princess. Let’s just chill here for now alright? I’ll text Alexis in a little bit.”

You sat in silence twisting your star ring as you began to cool down and your hearing was returning to normal. Tom was rubbing his thumb over your shoulder and had you drinking your second cup of water, but the effects of the alcohol were still present.

“Tom?” you whispered. He hummed. “You’re a really good husband.”

He chuckled.

“You think so?” he paused. “I think you’re a pretty good wife, too. No matter how much trouble you manage to get us both in.”

After a little longer, you felt yourself getting sleepy as the night took its toll on you. Alexis came outside and rushed over.

“Hey! I was looking everywhere. Sorry I didn’t see your text. Let’s go, y/n. You’ve had a looong night.”

Tom picked you up from the porch and led you to the car, half carrying you. He helped you into the car and buckled you up, then stood leaning in the doorway.

“Thanks for your help, Tom. Glad you were there for us,” Alexis said with a small grin as she buckled in.

“Of course. I’d do anything for her,” he replied, giving you a wink before shutting the door and waving. Alexis had barely pulled out of the driveway when she looked at you.

“Okay spill. What’s been going on with you and Tom?” she asked in a serious tone. She was clearly using the alcohol against you, and even though you were much more aware than before, you still started talking.

“I think I really like him.”

“Like we didn’t all already know that. I meant what have you been hiding from me the past three months? I know there’s more to the story.”

You sighed.

“It started last month, when Tom beat up… you know… the first time. We held hands on his bedroom floor that weekend until his mom accidentally walked in. And then we took those pictures and kept saying all these flirty things. I accidentally caught him naked, don’t ask.”

“Oh I’m definitely asking about that later. But continue.”

“Well then I stayed for dinner that Thursday and Sam caught us in the kitchen goofing around. Oh, and then last weekend we kissed, and-”

“YOU WHAT NOW?” she yelled, causing you to wince at the sound before you started rambling.

“We didn’t really kiss per se… It’s because we were fake dating for that couple. It just kinda happened! And now we’re going to homecoming together but it was supposed to be a secret so… don’t tell anyone before dinner tomorrow. Or tonight I guess since it’s Saturday morning.”

“I knew it. Dammit I knew it! Why didn’t you just tell me!”

“You’d make fun of me! Do you think I want to like him? We’ve been at each other’s throats all this time and now I’m just supposed to forget all that because of a little crush? You don’t get it, Lex. It’s not like he’d ever feel the same way.”

You looked out the car window, trying to settle your breathing after getting worked up. Your head hurt and you were still thirsty. Alexis pulled into her driveway and cut the engine.

“I know I would clown you about it, and I probably still will, but we’re friends for a reason. And you’re joking, right? Everyone knows Tom is head over heels in love with you.”

“What? No way.”

“Yes way! Have you not seen the way he looks at you, and follows you like a puppy dog, and gets so protective over you? I mean come on, y/n. He literally said he’d do anything for you and winked before we left. You must be blind to not see that.”

You sat and tried to think about it for a minute, wondering if she was right about him.

“Let’s go in, y/n. It’s getting cold and you need to sleep it off. You’re not going to have a fun morning, that’s for sure.”

You followed her into the house, trying not to stumble. Your balance definitely wasn’t all there. Her garage door led straight to the kitchen where you chugged a glass of water and took some antacids, grabbing more water to take to her room.

You went into the bathroom to shower off the makeup and sweat and hairspray. When you got out and looked in the mirror, you saw the way your chest was reddened from what Harrison did to you. It took everything to hold back more tears.

%

The moment your eyes opened, everything hurt.

Your head, stomach, feet, chest. Your head was flooded with memories from the previous night. You rolled away from the window to find Alexis sitting on the floor next to a plate and glass of water.

“Well, well, well. Sleeping beauty awakes. I brought you my hangover cure.”

You looked down to see that on the plate sat two advils, an alka seltzer, and some cinnamon pop tarts. It was almost 11 am.

“Thanks, Lex. For everything. You’re the best,” you said, taking a bite off one pastry.

“Don’t be thanking me. Tom’s the real hero. He got a bunch of people together this morning to report Harrison for what he did to you and he’s suspended again, can’t go to the dance. I guess Johnson is gonna deal with it more next week and he might be expelled. Do you have any proof other than Tom?” she said gently.

“Let’s see,” you said, tugging off your shirt, revealing a sports bra. She gasped when she saw the purple bruising around one breast and the hickey marks that had been left on your neck.

“Oh my God, y/n. That’s awful.”

“I know. It didn’t look like this last night. We need to get some pictures.”

After taking some pictures for proof and finishing off your “breakfast,” you and Alexis began preparing yourselves for the dance. You were going to do makeup and hair at her house before going home to change, and then to Tom’s.

If he even still wanted to go with you. You decided to call him while Alexis curled your hair.

“Hey, y/n. Are you okay?” he asked, voice deep and raspy. He must have gone to bed again after organizing the reports against Harrison.

“Yeah, I’m way better. Thanks for everything last night. For saving my ass. I heard what you did this morning, too. You’re the best.”

“It’s the right thing to do, y/n. I’m glad I was there. And you’re sure you’re okay? We can skip the dance tonight if you aren’t up for it. You know my mom would love to have you come hang out any time.”

“Hey, now. I’m not about to leave the dance without a king and queen. I mostly wanted to check if you were still okay with going together after everything.”

“Of course! I want to go with you, y/n. Nothing’s changed that.”

You smiled.

“Okay, well, I’ll pick you up at 5 for dinner. Bye, Tom.”

“See ya, princess.”

You ended the call and sat quietly looking down. You almost forgot Alexis was there until she said,

“So you’re driving him, huh? I alway knew you wore the pants. Now tell me about that whole ‘seeing him naked’ thing...”

%

A/N: so... there's that chapter. I hope you all understand that this moment is not at all meant to romanticize or glorify the terrible experiences so many people endure, but instead highlight one way this issue is dealt with.

I wish you all the best. Please remember that my messages and asks are always open ❤️

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[charincharge]

I Don’t Want To Wait, five

rowaelin high school bff au masterlist

Based on the prompt:

How bout "Gods, no need to be such a cleanfreak! Don't want to drink from my cup? Then get your own!"  (@annejulianneh111)

“Aelin, sit down, you’re stressing everyone out,” Lysandra snapped as she sipped from the group’s communal water bottle, filled with vodka and crystal lite.

Wesley nodded as he snaked his arm around Lysandra’s waist and leaned his head against hers. His eyes shone red with the effects of the bowl he’d smoked behind the bleachers during halftime, but Aelin had resisted. She needed to be somewhat sober to follow the game. With only a minute left in the last quarter, Orynth was tied for goals. They’d attempted to rush the goal twice, but the Rifthold goalie had blocked both.

She knew how much it meant to Rowan. He was only one of two sophomores on the Varsity team, and for them to reach nationals was a big deal. She’d never seen a game this close – and she’d been to every single one of Rowan’s games this season.

She watched intently as their star forward, Nox Owens sprinted forward, the ball cradled carefully in his stick, and gasped as a Rifthold player slammed against him, checking him with their own stick. Aelin’s heart beat faster as the ball rolled out of its cradle and onto the grass below Nox’s feet, nearly tripping him.

Fifteen seconds left, and they were going to go into overtime. Aelin was sure of it.

Until suddenly, Rowan was there. Racing from behind Nox, he angled his shoulders and scooped up the ball himself.

Ten seconds.

Suddenly, the crowds around Aelin were on their feet as well.

“GO, ROWAN!” she screeched as he picked up his pace, hurdling toward the Rifthold goalie.

Five seconds.

Four seconds.

Three.

Everyone on the sidelines simultaneously held their breath as Rowan flicked his stick towards the goal, taking his shot.

Two.

A low murmer of surprise swelled through the crowds as Rowan changed tacts at the last second, and the ball sped into the corner of the goal, whooshing past the goalie’s unblocked shoulder.

“Did you see that?!” Aelin shouted at her friends, who were now cheering just as loud as she was.

One.

Aelin couldn’t control herself as the timer ran out. She knew she was breaking all kinds of rules, but her best friend had just scored the tie-breaking, winning goal to a championship game, and she needed to congratulate him now.

Her feet couldn’t take her down to the field fast enough, and she watched as he was swarmed by cheerleaders and his team, all filled with congratulatory well-wishes, but Aelin was undeterred.

She ran full force across the boundaries of the field, past an angry looking coach and launched herself at Rowan.

Her arms and legs wrapped around his neck and waist as he caught her with a soft “oomph.”

She held him tightly, pressing her face against his, and she could feel his smile against hers, despite his heavy breathing. They stood like that, in the middle of the field, wrapped around each other, both panting and clinging to one another, until Aelin felt Rowan head nod at someone behind her.

She slid off him, knowing she was preventing him from being congratulated by hundreds of people, but her breath caught at the way he smiled down at her. It was… different. She couldn’t quite explain it. Maybe it was his exhaustion, but it felt like he was smiling at her with all of himself for the first time. Not guarded, not sarcastic, not embarrassed – just fully Rowan, in earnest. Aelin tucked her chin into her chest as she smiled at the ground. She was about to take a step away when he threw his arm around her shoulders, keeping her attached to his side as he accepted praise from his teammates.

“Holy fuck, man,” Wesley drawled as he jumped onto Rowan’s back. “You crushed it. Murdered it. Slayed it. You made that game your bitch.”

“You did, Ro,” Lysandra chimed in. “We have a special treat for you if you want it…” She pulled the top of the water bottle out of her hoodie pocket, shaking it at Rowan.

Rowan elbowed Wes, throwing him off his shoulders, but Aelin noticed his ears pink at his friends’ attention.

“Yes, please,” Rowan said with a laugh. “Let’s go celebrate.”

“I’ll DD,” Elide offered. “MVP doesn’t have to drive tonight,” and Rowan cast her a grateful smile.

“Hey, Whitethorn!” a gruff voice called from behind the group. They all turned simultaneously. Aelin’s eyes widened as the goalie pulled off his mask, revealing his tan skin, dripping with sweat. His dark eyes flicked over the motley crew of sophomores in front of him. “Party at my house tonight.” He ran his tan fingers through his sweat-drenched hair, and somehow made it look cool instead of disgusting. “Bring your friends.”

Lysandra’s mouth unhinged first as she elbowed Rowan with an excited hiss. “Did we just get invited to a Lorcan Salvaterre party?”

Lorcan’s parties were legendary. The senior was raised by a barely older cousin, his parents having split and then taken off as soon as they could, left them the house and not much else.  The pair were known for their debauchery-filled shindigs, but Aelin had never dreamed she’d ever be invited to one. They were pretty exclusive to upperclassmen.  

“Do you want to go?” Rowan asked the group, and as Wesley and Lysandra started nodding, Aelin cut them off with a stern tilt of her head. She looked to her best friend instead.

“Whatever you want to do, we want to do,” she said.

“We’re definitely fucking going,” Rowan smirked as his friends burst into cheers again.

“Wait,” Aelin groaned. “I have to go home and change. I can’t wear this!” She motioned down to her game day clothes. “Plus, Rowan got me all sweaty.”

Rowan quirked an eyebrow at her, and she could feel her cheeks heat with her words. “That sounded dirtier than it was.”

“We could make it dirtier than it was,” Rowan said, lowering his voice as he slung his arm back over her shoulders.

“Rowan!” Aelin gaped, laughing at his jovial mood.

He beamed at her again, and Aelin could feel herself melt against him. Something was changing between them, and Aelin was hopeful for the first time that her feelings weren’t completely misplaced. That maybe tonight would go how she wanted.

~*~

Aelin waited outside her house, arms crossed, feeling nervous for the evening ahead. She’d changed into her nicest pair of jeans and a tank top. It was slightly revealing for the cool May night, but she figured a house party would be warm. She assumed, at least. She had no real prior knowledge.

She sighed in relief when Rowan’s jeep finally pulled up. She slid into the back seat, prepared to be squished next to Wes and Lys, but was shocked when Rowan’s warm clean scent enveloped her, helping her up into the seat.

“What the hell?” Aelin asked, looking at the seating arrangement. Elide was already driving, Lys was in the passenger seat, and Wesley was nowhere to be found.

“Wes is going to meet us there. He had to ‘go to the store,’” Lys answered with a large eyeroll. That was his code for refilling his weed stash. Aelin shrugged as Elide took off and a new song came over the speakers. A wide smile broke out over her face, realizing he was still listening to her mix.

Aelin took a large breath and started singing along. The song was one she knew was a secret favorite of Rowan’s, not that he’d admit it to anyone. His music taste was far too cool for that. But Aelin couldn’t be bothered to care. She sang loudly, dancing in her seat, swaying side to side as she belted out the lyrics.

It’s too hot to sleep

I got the sheets on the floor, nothing on me

And I can’t take it no more it’s 100 degrees

I got one foot out the door, where are my keys?

Cause I gotta leave?

Rowan looked over at her, his eyes gleaming with excitement as he joined in.

I tipped the driver head of time, get me there fast.

Aelin was so shocked that she stopped her own singing. As her jaw dropped, Rowan’s smirk grew and his attentions on her grew larger, his shoulders moving in rhythm to the beat, leaning closer and closer to her with every word.

I got your body on my mind, I want it bad

Just the thought of you gets me so high

So high…

He clutched at his heart and shut his eyes, tilting his head back as he sang the chorus, and a large giggle erupted from Aelin’s throat as she watched him, completely ridiculous and letting loose, something he rarely did. Aelin lifted her arms, moving them back and forth to the beat as she sang the chorus with him.

“Oh no, we lost them,” Lysandra laughed from the front seat, looking between the singing pair in the back.

Girl, you’re the one I want to want me

And if you want me, girl you got me

There’s nothing I wouldn’t do

Just to get up next to you.

He scooched closer to her, his thigh pressed against hers as he leaned into Aelin’s shoulder, his voice low and close as he lifted his finger to point at her.

You open the door

Wearing nothing but a smile down to the floor

And you whisper in my ear, “Baby, I’m yours…”

Rowan’s breath tickled the inside of Aelin’s ear as he sang, and Aelin shoved his shoulder in shock.

“Oh my gods, Buzzard, what has gotten into you?!” she asked through nervous laughter, eyes wide, though not upset by any means. Was Rowan flirting with her?

He pulled out a fresh bottle of vodka and crystal lite from the side door and shook it in front of her. Aelin snatched in from his hand and pouted.

“You started without me?”

“To be fair, you started without me first,” he retorted.

“No drinking while I’m driving!” Elide snapped as Aelin started to twist off the bottle top, and Rowan snorted loudly as Aelin huffed and put it back into the cup holder with a grumble.

“Yes, mom.”

Elide flipped her off in the rearview mirror, and Aelin stuck her tongue out at her responsible friend.

“Whoa…” Aelin breathed under her breath as they pulled up the street to Lorcan’s. Parked cars lined both sides of the street, and she watched as crowds spilled forward from the overflowing house.

Lysandra barely waited for the car to be parked before hauling ass out of the car and pulling Aelin with her. Aelin glanced over her shoulder at Rowan, giving him an apologetic glance as Lysandra dragged her into the house.

“I have to pee!” she called out, and Rowan shrugged, waving at both of them as he waited for Elide.

“What is going on with you and Rowan?” Lysandra hissed as soon as they were out of earshot. Aelin could feel her cheeks warming. If Lysandra was noticing, then something was definitely happening, right?

“He’s being weird,” Aelin said, trying to downplay her feelings, but of course Lysandra saw right through her shoddy attempt. Her friend rolled her eyes and poked her in the side.

“He was totally coming onto you!” Lysandra attempted to whisper, but her excitement was getting the better of her, her bright green eyes wide with excitement for Aelin. And suddenly, Aelin knew what she wanted to do.

“I’m going to kiss him… tonight,” Aelin whispered, verbalizing her decision for the first time. A flush ran through her at the thought as she remembered the way Rowan’s thigh felt pressed against hers in the car. She wondered what it would feel like resting between her legs.

“Oh my GOD!” Lysandra screeched, and Aelin put her finger to her lips, shushing her quickly as people around them started to stare. “It’s about time,” Lysandra laughed, putting her hands on either side of Aelin’s face, looking deep into her eyes. “I’m so proud of you. Be brave, my little butterfly.” Lysandra paused.

Aelin stuck her tongue out, and Lysandra scrunched her nose, and there was a deep laugh as Rowan slung his arms around the pair of girls. “Are you two going to make out, because Wes will be really upset that he missed that.”

Lysandra ducked out from Rowan’s grasp, leading them all further into the party as Aelin shook her head.

“Please, I’m not nearly drunk enough to make out with anyone.”

Rowan coughed, startled by Aelin’s answer, and then a devilish grin appeared on his face. “Well, then, we should probably get you a drink.”

Aelin ducked her head, nodding, as she stayed tucked into Rowan’s side. He led them through the throngs of juniors and seniors, and despite the overwhelming crowds, Aelin felt comfortable in his grasp.

En route to the kitchen, Rowan was delayed by more congratulations and praise, but he never removed his arm from around Aelin’s shoulders, and for that she was grateful.

They diverted as two teammates called out to Rowan, bringing him towards the beer pong table they’d set up.

“Whitethorn, you’re up next!” called out the Moonbeam twins. Fenrys and Connall pelted Rowan with ping pong balls as Lorcan snapped from behind them.

“Don’t fucking lose all of those.” He flicked the twins off as he threw back the rest of his can of beer, and Rowan gave Aelin a pleading look.

Aelin wrinkled her nose as she looked at the twins filling up the pyramid of red cups on either side of the table. “Fine,” she replied, loving the way Rowan smiled at her again. “But, I’m not drinking any of that disgusting beer,” she explained, watching as Fenrys and Connall tossed one of the dirty ping pong balls from the sticky floor into a cup on their side.

Rowan chuckled softly, following Aelin’s gaze. “Fair.”

He let his arm finally fall from her shoulders, trailing down her back slowly, until it came to a rest at her side. He squeezed it gently, sending a shiver up her spine.

“Moonbeams, this is Aelin. Aelin, these are the twins.” He looked between them. “I’ll be right back. Be good.”

Aelin expected the twins to take no interest in her, but the pair were shockingly friendly. Especially Fenrys.

“So,” Aelin began nervously. “I’ve never actually played before,” she said, eyes flicking over the table.

“Oh, fuck, it’s so easy,” Fenrys said, coming over to her side of the table to show her how to launch the ball into a red cup. “It’s all in the wrist,” he said with a wink.

“Fen, get back to your side, asshole,” Rowan said, sliding a large cup of some red strong-smelling fruity concoction into Aelin’s hand. She took a small sip, testing it out. It burned slightly going down, but it was sweet and would get her drunk soon enough.

Fenrys pouted. “But, I’m already over here. How about I play with Aelin, and you and Con can play together?” he asked, his dark eyes gleaming.

“No.” Rowan’s voice was resolute, and Fenrys cracked a blinding smile, shaking his head as he made his way back to his side.

Rowan took the first shot and sank it. Aelin looked at his muscles through his white t-shirt, and she couldn’t help but admire him. She blinked, taking another sip of her drink. It must have been stronger than she thought if she was already ogling Rowan in public.

With each shot Rowan sank, Aelin failed miserably. It turned out she was not particularly skilled in the game, but she was content to watch Rowan and sip at her drink anyway.

After drinking one of the cups on their side, Rowan frowned and reached for her cup. He took a large swig and frowned, wiping at his lips.

“Ugh, Ace, this lip gloss is disgusting.” He wiped at the gloss that he’d accidentally put his lips over, and Aelin snorted as she grabbed her cup back.

“Don’t be such a cleanfreak, Buzzard. Get your own glass.” Her eyes narrowed as she reapplied her lipgloss and took another sip of the drink, purposefully leaving a sticky mark on the side of her cup.

Fenrys cackled loudly from the other side of the table. “Yeah, it was probably inevitable that you’d leave this party wearing lipstick on your face, champ,” he said to Rowan with a wink.

“Fine,” Rowan grumbled, peering into her cup. “You need a refill anyway.”

“I do,” Aelin smirked, shaking her empty glass in front of her face.

“Be right back.”

As Rowan disappeared, Connall and Fenrys both sank cups on her side. Aelin frowned, looking around for Rowan’s return, but he was taking longer than he had last time.

Connall frowned. “Just put the cups aside and take your shot.”

Aelin missed her first shot so badly that she accidentally hit the back of someone’s head behind the twins, who laughed wildly at her.

“Sorry!” she apologized as a head of cropped black hair turned around, rubbing at the back of his head. Aelin gasped. She’d accidentally hit Nox Owen – captain of the lacrosse team, and most popular senior at Orynth High. Fuck.

Nox laughed as he approached the table, returning her rogue ball to her. “I believe this is yours,” he said with a smile, grey eyes twinkling with laughter.

“I told Rowan not to leave me…” she grumbled.

Nox’s eyes lit up. “Ah, you’re Whitethorn’s girl?” he asked.

“No!” Aelin responded too quickly, her cheeks flushing with alcohol and embarrassment. “Not his girl. Just a friend, who is a girl.” She wanted to slam her face against the beer pong table as all three boys stared at her with amusement. “I’m Aelin,” she said, sticking her hand out, hoping to end her rambling torture.

“Well, Aelin,” Nox laughed. “It looks like you need an interim partner.”

“Yes, please,” Aelin begged. “I suck.”

The twins snorted as Nox ran his hand through his hair and smiled. “Good to know,” he said with a wink, causing Aelin to blush even further.

Nox was unsurprisingly excellent at beer pong, and the game was over fairly quickly. Aelin looked around for Rowan, who had yet to return.

“Do you need another drink?” Nox asked, and Aelin nodded. She also needed to track Rowan down, but she could feel her buzz starting to fade and definitely needed another drink to get enough courage to finally kiss Rowan.

Nox linked his fingers through Aelin’s as he led them into the kitchen. He scooped a cup into a giant trashbin of liquid, and passed Aelin her refilled cup of red drink. She took a long sip, not wanting to think about how many hands had passed through that tub or what the fuck was in it.

As she lowered her glass, she heard Rowan’s soft laughter and sought him out immediately. Her lips parted in surprise as she located him, on the other side of the kitchen, sipping on his own cup, carefully placed between the legs of the brunette cheerleader Aelin recognized as his hype girl from this morning. The cheerleader was giggling, perched on the kitchen counter with Rowan’s hands on her bare knees, wide smile across her face. Her brown eyes never left his as they chatted quietly, just the two of them, off in their own little world.

Aelin felt her stomach plummet as Rowan tucked his chin into his chest at something the girl said. She wanted nothing more than to pull Rowan away, but she wasn’t nearly brave enough for that yet. Instead, Aelin tipped her head back and let the red drink flow down her throat.

“Whoa…” Nox murmured. “Be careful – that shit is strong…” he explained, looking at Aelin’s now half-empty cup. But Aelin didn’t heed his warning. Taking a long breath, she knocked her head back and finished the remainder of the cup quickly. She could feel the alcohol work its way through her system quickly, her head spinning slightly as she thanked Nox for the drink and made her way over to where Rowan still stood.

“You left me,” Aelin slurred slightly, pulling the red cup from Rowan’s hand. His eyes widened in slight surprise at his best friend’s sudden appearance, but he didn’t move from his spot.

“Sorry,” he shrugged, not sounding sorry in the slightest. Aelin frowned, taking another large gulp of the sweet red drink in her hand. Her head swam as the room started losing focus.

Aelin noticed a hand sticking out in front of her, the cheerleader leaning down from the counter to introduce herself to Aelin. But Aelin could barely hear her through the blood rushing to her temples.

“Hi, I’m Lyria,” the cheerleader said, glancing between Rowan and Aelin. Aelin held out her hand, limply shaking the hand in front of her.

And then everything went dark.

~*~*~*~

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[desiraypark]

First of all, congrats on 200 sweetheart!! You deserve it so much! So, the request: Flip x Mae. Make up sex. That's it. These two are like fire and gasoline and I love them so much ❤️

Thank you so much!!! :) This was longer than it was supposed to be omg, lol.  Content: Couple’s spat; smut is all the way at the end lmao (unprotected) and it’s more of a quickie, I hope this is okay!  Okay, so this takes place within about a year (maybe two) of Flip x Mae officially being a couple. Where do they live? I don’t know. Or do I...

Mae was curled up in a tight ball, as far away from Flip as possible. She stirred and her eyes fluttered open at the feeling of fingers near her elbow and lips on her shoulder. She groaned and tried to scoot away, but her body was too heavy with sleep. “Good morning...” he said. Mae pulled the blanket up over her arm and Flip avoided being smacked in the face with the material. He chuckled and kissed Mae on the cheek. “I’m sorry, babe...” He rested his cheek against hers. “Mm-hmm...” she mumbled. “I am...” “How do I make it up to you?” he asked. ____________________ The Night Before Every tenant’s cooking smacked Flip in the face as he walked through the apartment building. But he knew Mae’s cooking. She definitely had them beat. He dragged his aching feet up the steps to apartment D, where he and his lady lived (“in sin” - according to Mae’s mother). He opened the door and let out a sigh of relief.  “Hey, Honey,” Mae called from the kitchen. “You’re right on time.”

Flip sauntered into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around her waist. Then, he nuzzled his lips against her neck. She was pulling fried pieces of fish from a skillet. 

“Long day?” she asked. “Yep,” he said. “I just wanna eat and go to bed.” “No football tonight?” Mae asked, shock in her voice. “Nope. I’m that tired, doll.” Flip gave her a peck on the cheek, walked out of the kitchen, and into their bathroom. As he stood over the toilet and relieved himself, he got a good look at their tiny bathroom--tiny in comparison to what he had in Colorado Springs and even what she had in Miami. On the right side of the sink was his shaving cream, razor, and deodorant. On the left, him and Mae’s toothbrush and toothpaste holder (with toothbrushes and toothpaste, obviously) and Mae’s Noxzema...and her Pond’s cold cream...and her Ultra Sheen conditioner...a little comb.

On top of the toilet (over the cutest crocheted toilet cover, he had to admit) sat her shampoo and conditioner, another comb, and a random makeup applicator. He couldn’t move any of the stuff either--for the bottom of the sink was damn near filled to the top with Fashion Fair cosmetics, more hair products, perfumes, and perhaps a five-year old. Who knew? 

Flip sighed, shook himself dry, and washed his hands. Then, he went into the bedroom to change into some house clothes.

Mae was setting plates of food on their little table when Flip walked into the kitchen. She smiled at him as he walked over and pulled out her chair. He helped her slide in before sitting across from her. They took their first bites of dinner, and Flip finally spoke. “Babe, do you really need all that stuff you have in the bathroom. It’s getting a little cramped...” Mae raised an eyebrow. “I suppose I can get rid of a thing or two.” Flip grunted and parroted her. “A thing or two...” “Are you trying to call me messy, Flip?” she asked. “No...” he answered. “Just...our bathroom isn’t but so big. Half of that stuff you don’t even use.” Mae straightened her spine. “You don’t what I use and don’t use.” “Look, Babe, I’m not trying to start a fight,” Flip said. “It’s just when I come home and take a piss, I don’t wanna see Macy’s cosmetics counter all over the fuckin’ bathroom...” He didn’t raise his voice, but he might as well had. “Why are you cursin’ at me Phillip?” “It’s just a lot, Babe. Besides, you’re too pretty to puttin’ all that crap on--” “Unh-uh, don’t you go there with yOu’re tOo prEtty fOr mAkeUp mess, trying to soften me up,” Mae interrupted. Flip put his hands up, fork still in his right hand. “Baby, all I’m saying is you’re probably going a little overboard in the beauty sections. Sometimes I feel dirty when I walk in there, Babe.” Mae stopped eating and leaned back in her chair. “So, now I don’t clean the bathroom.” Flip rolled his eyes, dropped his fork and rubbed his temples. “Should I just drop it?” “You should.” Flip and Mae ate in silence. Mae hopped up from the table first to take her dishes to the sink. She filled the sink with soapy water, and Flip walked over with his dishes. They always washed and dried the dishes together, but Mae swiped up his silverware and snatched the plate out of his hand. “I’ve got it,” she said, dropping the utensils and plate in the water. Flip stood shocked for a few seconds, then he shook his head. He reached into the cupboard for the Pyrex. “I said, I’ve got it,” Mae repeated. “You’re gonna clean all this up by yourself?” Flip asked with a sarcastic tone. “It’s not like I did shit else today, with me being a shopaholic bitch who doesn’t keep her home,” she said.  Flip shoved the Pyrex dishes back in the cupboard. “You know what. Fine with me. Good fuckin’ night.” “Good fuckin’ night to you, too,” Mae snapped back.  ____________________ “How do I make it up to you?” he asked. Mae tilted her body further away from Flip, but he felt her cheeks moving. He sat up and looked down at the dent in her cheek--her chewing on the inside of her mouth, trying not to smile, he knew. He gave her face another kiss, but she turned over her stomach and buried her face in her arm. Flip ran his fingers down her back.  “Mmm, giving me your ass to kiss huh?” he asked. He pulled back the blankets, climbed on top of Mae, and yanked up her nightgown. He leaned down to plant kisses on her panty-less ass.  “Don’t you have a job you need to get to?” Mae asked, her voice muffled.  “Gonna do this rim job first,” Flip said, spreading her cheeks. Mae squealed and squirmed under him. Flip laughed and climbed off her, letting her roll back on her back. 

“You’re fucking crazy,” she said. Flip stared into her eyes, then leaned forward and kissed her. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry, too.” Mae flashed a mischievous grin and lifted her knees. “How sorry are you?” 

Flip grinned and climbed between Mae’s legs. He held her knees open and without hesitation, sucked her clit into his mouth. He pulled away for a second. “I’m just gonna get you wet, and then I’m gonna give you some fuckin’ dick so I can get ready for work,” he said. Mae laughed. “Fine with me.” Flip licked and sucked Mae up, drinking every drop of juice that drizzled out of her--wetting every fold until she glistened in his view. His dick was hard in seconds. Soon, he sat up and lined up at her entrance. “Soft or rough?” he asked. “Mmm, rough. So you can get the fuck outta here,” she joked. Mid-giggle, Flip rammed into her and she yelped. 

“That’s what you get, smart ass,” he said. 

He stroked her velvety walls for less than a minute before he grabbed her legs, pushed them back, and rested his body over hers--slowing his pace, but slipping in deeper, and barely pulling out.  “Ohhhh, fuckkkkk,” Mae groaned.  “Mmmm,” Flip hummed. “Did you take your pill?” “Yes, I took my pill, Flip. Stop asking me that every time we fuck, just fuckin’ nut in me!”  Flip grinned and picked up his pace. He interlocked his arms over Mae’s head and slammed his hips against her body. Her nails dug into his back, providing him with the sweet sting he needed to near his finish. He pressed into her one hard time, and filled her up with his seed, mumbling another expletive in her ear. Mae ran her fingers through his hair, letting him ride out his wave. “Alright, big boy. Get your heavy ass off me,” she finally said. Flip chuckled and sat up, but he didn’t pull out of her. He kept her legs up, kept fucking into her, and rubbed at her clit the pads of his fingers. Mae bit her lip and sat up on her elbows, jaw lax, taking in the sensations. “I’m not leaving ‘til you come,” he said. “Oh, Baby, it’s fuckin’ happening...” she mumbled, her pupils dilated and eyebrows raised. Then, her head flew back and she let out a cry straight from her gut. She came and squirted under Flip, and he kept rubbing and fucking, rubbing and fucking. When she neared the end, she started squirming away from him. “Stop, Flip!” she shouted with her face covered. He yanked himself out, leaned forward, pushed her hands away from her face and pressed them down at her sides. Then, he devoured her mouth and peppered her face with soft kisses.  “I’ll miss you all day,” he said.  “I’ll miss you, too,” she said back. “This was too short, I might have to finger myself when you leave.” “Nope,” Flip said, pushing her hands further into the mattress. “I missed Monday Night Football last night, I need you to make up for it.” “Me?” Mae asked. “Make a halftime show out of you playing with that pussy for me,” he said.

Mae chuckled. “I’ll see what I can do, Coach.” ____________________ Flip walked in and smelled the food from last night. 

“Hey, Honey,” Mae said from the kitchen.  “Hey, Babe.” He walked into the kitchen just in time to see her bent over and checking on something in the oven. He sauntered over with an opened palm.

“Don’t you do it,” she said, standing up and closing the oven again. Flip froze and laughed. “I’m just foolin’,” she said. 

She walked past Flip, batted her false lashes, and looked over her shoulder. He bit his bottom lip, and his eyes traveled down to her ass. He gave it a nice little smack. They laughed and Flip pulled her in his arms and kissed her. Mae pulled away and ran her fingers through his hair. “Go on and get ready for dinner, Baby,” she said.

Flip gave her another peck on the lips and went into the bathroom. He noticed that the sink looked a little lighter--just her Noxzema and cold cream sat on her side. Nothing was on the back of the toilet. He peeked out of the bathroom, checking to see if she had a view of him, but she was must have been digging in the fridge, out of the way of his view. 

He bent down and looked under the sink--probably a third of her cosmetics were gone. What was left (which was still a department counter’s worth, if you asked him), sat neatly in two little crates. Each crate had an index card taped to it that read “Mae”. On the other side were two more crates--both empty, but also had index cards taped to them. “Flip” written on both in marker.

[baroquebucky]

ummm peter/soft!reader pls? reader is in color guard and maybe gets hurt during her solo in halftime, and peter runs out to see if she’s okay or smth? maybe she’s doing a toss and it goes wrong?

A/N: THIS IS SO CUTE AHHH pls send in some peter requests !! (esp marching band peter or color guard reader and etc hehehe) hope you enjoy !!!! <3

You glanced around the student section of the bleachers, looking for peter from where you were with the marching band. It was still early, he must have been picking up Ned or something. You talked with a few of your guard friends and watched the football team warm up as the band practiced a few scales to warm up.

When peter was in marching band you would look up at him in the sea of instruments and mock his playing position, blowing in and out as the director instructed. Other times half the guard would try and copy the movements of the drum majors and attempt to conduct the band but almost always failed miserably.

You glanced over at the student section once more and locked eyes with a flustered peter parker. He sat as close as he could to the band, but couldn’t get too close since the drill team had a section that separated the band from the students. Before peter liked it, they could go nuts in the stands without having to worry about the students making fun of the ‘band nerds.’ Now peter hated it, he wanted to be next to you as the drum line played cadences and play along with the stand tunes.

You smiled at him and waved at him, he smiled back and waved back equally as excited, everyone around you awed at the sight of the two of you communicating and you only nudged them. You both made eye contact and talked silently throughout the first quarter.

By the second quarter the guard instructed told everyone to head to where the equipment was and you felt yourself get nervous. Your director, who everyone called by his first name came over to you to help you go over your rifle solo.

Usually peter would miss games to patrol and would literally swing by to watch the halftime show, mainly to watch you. And you knew he would, sometimes you could spot him on top of the announcer box and you would smile up at him, but you weren’t sure if he ever saw it.

Today though, you guys were running the whole show, and you had a brand new solo in the ballad. You practiced with your director, reciting the counts and throwing a six with your rifle, under it you would do a sit roll and be up in time to catch it and long with a couple more elements. You were somewhat consistent but you wanted to really impress peter, especially since he was skipping his usual patrolling to be here tonight.

Peter watched as you practiced, the way your uniform would flow with your movements. He smiled as you continued to practice your solo. He looked at the scoreboard and saw how badly you guys were losing, slightly cringing at how bad the football team was.

Ned turned to him and smiled, “ate you excited for the show? I heard y/n has a really hard solo” he spoke and peter nodded. “Yeah that’s the whole reason I actually came tonight, I’m sure she’s gonna nail it” he smiled, suddenly he felt his hair stand and he looked around, there was no threats around. He shook it off and stole some of Neds pretzel, causing Ned to smack the back of his head.

As halftime began the away team preformed their show, it was good, but you were too nervous about your own preformance to appreciate it. As the announcer introduced your band you all scrambled to set your equipment, running to set one.

“good luck guard!” The trumpets around you told you and your team mates. You smiled and replied quickly “good luck trumpets.” As the show began everything went smoothly, you had even forgotten why you were so nervous, you loved preforming and spinning.

As your solo approached the wind picked up and you saw Peter cheering for you in the stands. You picked up your rifle as the band moved around you. You were nervous since it was windy but as you approached the toss, the wind died down and you went for it, doing the sit roll and barely catching the toss as it bent your pinky back. You smiled tightly at the audience before running to switch to some swing flags for the closer. You felt your finger swelling and you just wanted this to be over with.

The show finally ended and you all gathered everything and went back to where the equipment bags were. You called over your director, tears in your eyes as you held your finger.

“The wind picked up and oh my god this hurts so much” you spoke frantically as he told one of your friends to go get ice for your finger, it was already turning purple. “You’re gonna be fine don’t worry i don’t think it’s broken, fractured at worst” he shot you a small smile and you blinked away tears.

“What happened is she okay?” You heard Peters voice approaching, running towards you and holding your hand. Your director explained what happened and peter examined your finger.

Peter knew as soon as you tossed your rifle you were going to get hurt, he wanted to seb your rifle away from you so you wouldn’t get hurt but he knew he couldn’t. Your friend returned with the ice and peter quickly took it and put it gently to your finger.

“You can stay here with her or you guys can go back to the stands but she can’t leave without her family picking her up, sorry parker” your director sighed and he nodded. You looked at peter and smiled softly, taking in how beautiful he looked under stadium lights, the way his curls fell almost perfectly. He looked down at you and smiled.

“You have a maybe fractured finger and you’re still smiling” he laughed as you rolled your eyes.

“How can I not smile when the most perfect hero is here nursing me to health” you teased and he blushed, helping you up from where you were sitting criss cross. “Do you wanna go back to the stands?” You asked him, dusting yourself with your other hand, peter kept a firm hold on the hand with your injured pinky.

“I kinda wanna leave and cuddle but we can’t do that can we” he pouted and you smiled softly at the boy, giving him a small kiss on his cheek.

“Let’s just go to the stands and have fun yeah?” You smiled at your boyfriend and he hesistated, not wanting you to get hurt. You sighed and pulled him in for a hug.

“Pete im fine, it’s probably fine and will go down in a couple of days” you spoke, your arms wrapping around his neck. You smiled at him and kissed him softly on the lips.

He smiled at you and rolled his eyes. “Fine, but if it hurts tell me” you smiled at him and walked back to the bleachers together. You gave him a small hug as he sat back down next to ned and you quickly went with your guard friends, getting your bags to go change in the restroom.

As the third quarter ended you felt the slight throbbing of your pinky die down and you looked over at peter, giving him a thumbs up and a smile. He quickly mumbled something under his breath (most likely ‘thank god’) and smiled back at you.

When the game ended you all headed back towards the busses to get back to school, Peter waved goodbye and blew you a kiss. You caught it and sent one back, causing ned to gag and your guard friends to squeal.

After putting everything up, you exited the school and saw peter standing outside with a bouquet of flowers. You blushed and rushed towards him, both your backpacks weighing you down slightly.

“well what a nice surprise” you smiled as the two of you walked away from the school.

“i couldn’t just let you leave, not when you’re hurt” he smiled and you rolled your eyes, adjusting your backpack.

“give me them” peter spoke, reaching for your backpack full of papers and binders, picking it up from your shoulders as if it was nothing, which to him it wasn’t.

You sighed in relief and rolled your shoulders. “So are we walking to my house or what’s gonna happen, because you can’t drive” you smiled and he smirked at you, putting on his webshooters. You smiled excitedly and wrapped your arms around him, you kissed the top of your head and before you knew it, you were swinging across town and landed infront of your house.

As you both entered he immediately grabbed an ice pack from your fridge and held it to your pinky, telling you sternly to keep it there while he put some water and salt in a bowl for you to put your finger in there.

You felt your heart flutter at how sweet he was being towards you, how cautious he was. As he approached with the bowl you quickly kissed him, on his neck, then his jaw, then his nose and forehead and cheeks and then his lips.

“god parker i love you” you spoke between kisses, “i love you so fucking much, i don’t know how i got so lucky” you spoke, your foreheads resting against each other for a second before you both pulled away so he could hand you the bowl of salt water.

“I’m the lucky one, you’re the one with a solo” he winked at you while slowly putting you hand in the warm water.

“This should help with the swelling” he spoke, getting up. You looked at him with puppy eyes.

“You’re leaving already?” You spoke, not wanting him to leave yet. He only laughed at your remark and shook his head.

“baby you really think I’m gonna leave when you’re hurt? of course not, I’m gonna go get the water ready so you can shower because you smell horrible” he teased, scrunching his nose up and you opened your mouth in shock.

“Peter Benjamin Parker my pinky may hurt but I’ll still beat your ass” you scolded him, getting up with the bowl in hand, looking as he put the ice pack in the fridge and carried your bags to your room.

“I’m gonna hold you to that angel, now cmon go get clean” he smiled and you giggled, thankful that even when you didn’t catch correctly or even if you dropped, you still had your number one fan.

[axwalker]

You’ll never walk alone

Wszystkiego najlepszego z okazji urodzin !!!!

I said it before in my previous post (here), but I’ll say it one million times again:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! You’re one of my closest friends here and I love you so so so much!!

I know we’re living a hard, difficult world right now, but I hope you can find a way to enjoy your Birthday the way you deserve it! 

Warnings: SMUT (that I know of, but I’m sure someone who’s really motivated can find something else 🤷🏽‍♀️.)

A/N: This is an AU but it takes place somewhere during the social season.

I hope this covers everything you were asking for. It has a slow burn, your favorite soccer team and a bit of Dublin because I know how much you were looking forward to go. DON’T WORRY, YOU’LL GO BEFORE YOU KNOW IT!

Word count: Euh… (coughs nervously) You asked for a slow burn so 7,000 words… `

PERMATAG: @burnsoslow​ @pedudley​ @mskaneko​

Thank you to to the beautiful birthday girl ( @mskaneko​ )  for the beautiful edit in the mood board. To @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore​ for beta reading, and to @pedudley​ for  reading and for the incredible mood board that closes this fic. 

Alexis snuck out of the palace and called an Uber that took her to the local Irish pub in less than fifteen minutes.

The bar was a cozy place with large wooden panels, solid counters and Irish music.

She was about to sit on one of the stools when she felt someone’s eyes behind her, staring at her. She turned her head and there he was, Drake Walker sitting in a booth with a tumbler of whiskey in his hand. He raised his glass towards her, trying to ignore the fact that his heart had skipped a beat when he had seen her.

After ordering a pint, she sat next to him with her usual perky attitude. “What are you doing out of you cabin in the woods, Walker?”

He squinted at her “The real question is what are you doing here, O’Brien? Out of the palace without a guard.”

She shrugged. “I wanted to watch the match, and I’m staying. You can take me back to the palace as soon as Barcelona kicks Liverpool’s ass”

God, she was exasperating. “Of course, you would be a Barcelona’s fanatic.”

“You mean the best club in the world?” She took off her leather jacket, she was wearing the famous blue and scarlet Barcelona’s shirt.

He growled. “You can’t sit with me wearing that.”

She gave him a flirtatious look. “Would you prefer if I took it off?”

Sometimes, he swore she was actively trying to torture him. He took her chin with his fingers fixing his piercing eyes on hers.

“You don’t want to play that game with me, O’Brien.” He said in a hoarse voice.

She swallowed hard, her heart beating furiously in her chest. When he finally tore his eyes away from her, she took a long sip of beer.

After a few silent minutes, she spoke. “I can’t believe you’re actually rooting for Liverpool. They haven’t won a Champions league in thirteen years.”

He growled. “I’m so sure we’re beating Barcelona tonight, that I bought tickets for the second leg.”

She sat on the booth cross-legged hugging a cushion. “You seem awfully confident that your team, a team that hasn’t win in ages, is going to beat the best team there is.” She gave him a confident smile. “Want to bet?”

“The best team…?” He shook his head. “What do you want to bet?”

“If Barcelona wins tonight, you give me your semi-final tickets.”

He raised his hands shocked. “Are you crazy, do you know how much I paid for those tickets?”

She reached for his arm and squeezed it with a fake empathic expression on her face. “Don’t worry, Drake if I were rooting for such losers, I wouldn’t want to bet the tickets either.”  

He considered her proposal for a minute, well aware that she was provoking him on purpose, but he just couldn’t back out when she was challenging him. “I’m in, but if you lose you have to get me tickets for next year’s matches. All the matches.” He saw her stunned expression, so he added irritated. “You’ll be queen next year O’Brien, it’d be easy for you to get them.”

She didn’t know why but it really bothered her that he would assume she was going to accept Liam’s proposal. She reached for his hand anyway. “Deal, Walker.”

For the next two hours they sat next to each other, drinking and bickering playfully. In the halftime he challenged her to a game of darts, she wasn’t bad at all, and she certainly looked extremely cute when she concentrated but he beat her easily, reaching 501 points in ten minutes.

However, at the end of the second half of the match, he was seriously pissed, not only he had lost his precious semi-final tickets, but he also had to put up with her cocky attitude while she celebrated Barcelona’s victory.

After a while of singing and cheering with a group of Spaniards, she came back to the table, ecstatic, and extended her hand towards him pointing at her palm. “The tickets, Walker.”

He groaned “Do you think I carry them with me all the time, O’Brien? I’ll give them to you at the palace.”

She laughed truly enjoying her victory. “So grumpy! I didn’t know you were such a sore loser, Drake. I’ll go get another pint. What are you drinking?”

He rolled his eyes. “Dalmore, fifteen years. Just tell them to put it on my tab. I come here often.”

She mimicked a fake surprise. “That’s so shocking!”

He laughed in spite of himself. She added playfully. “And Dalmore, eh? Being a veterinarian definitely pays.”

He smirked shrugging “I don’t need much, O’Brien, but I definitely need good whiskey. How do you know Dalmore?”

“My grandpa loved whiskey. Especially that one.” Her eyes watered thinking about her grandfather but she shook her head to chase the tears.

Drake saw her eyes and his heart tightened; he raised his hand to stroke her cheek, but squeezed her shoulder instead, pouring his eyes into hers to make her feel comforted without words.

It worked because she gave him a small smile, he had rolled his sleeves, so she rubbed his forearm with her fingers softly, almost tenderly, making him crazy. Why did she have to make it so fucking difficult being close to her? He stood up.

“We better leave, Obrien. It’s late and tomorrow we have to travel to Applewood.”

She didn’t want the night to end. For a minute she allowed herself to think about the life she would have had with Drake if they were a couple, if she had met him alone. If she hadn’t been so stupid to be blindsided by Liam’s charm, but when he abruptly stood up, she understood. He didn’t feel the same about her. She had to forget her stupid crush and move on.

They drove back in silence, both of them embarrassed, both of them hurt and filled with unspoken feelings.

The next day, Alexis felt much better. She had drunk too much the previous night and the alcohol had put crazy ideas in her head. It was clear that Drake only saw her as an annoying friend, so she would do the same.

Liam was different, even if the little spark that had initiated at the Statue of Liberty hadn’t become the fire she was hoping for, he was there for her. He had been clear about his feelings for her. Maybe love wasn’t the crazy passion she thought. Maybe love was calm, peaceful and reliable.

Or maybe she just needed to think for a few days, put some distance between her and that stupid competition. She thought about the football tickets she had won. She was definitely going to that semi-final, Drake, Liam and royal court be damned.

She knew Liam would be having breakfast in the main hall, so she went looking for him. She entered the hall and stopped in her tracks. Liam was having breakfast, but he wasn’t alone.

She cleared her throat. “Hi guys!”

Liam’s face lit up seeing her. “Lady Alexis. Good morning.”

Drake gestured a quick hello with his hand and turned back to reading his paper.

Mr. Polite as usual. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you, Li. I want to leave the court for a few days. I’m going to England for the semi-finals of the Champions league”

Liam stopped eating and looked at her puzzled. “That’s in two weeks from now, Alexis. The coronation is in less than three weeks. I would’ve expected that you wanted to be here.”

“Yes! Of course, Li. It’s only for a couple days. England is four hours away. I just want to watch the match. It’s… important for me”

Liam was uncomfortable, he didn’t want her to leave. Even if he couldn’t tell her yet, he had decided he was going to choose her as his queen. And her place was there with him not at some dumb football competition. “Where did you even get the tickets?”

Drake took his head out of the paper. “we made a bet and she won them from me.”

Liam grinned “I told you Liverpool was going to lose, Drake. You have to pick a winner’s team.” He turned to Alexis, speaking to her in a soft voice. “As a suitor and especially as the woman I care about, I-.”

Drake stood up so fast, he almost spilled his coffee. “I don’t think I should be part of this conversation.”

Liam raised his hand. “Actually, Drake, yes. Stay. I was going to say that I care very deeply about you, Alexis. I can’t let you go alone because you’re a member of the royal court, you’ll need protection. Unfortunately, I can’t spare any guards right now, but if Drake accepts, he can go with you. He has trained with Bastien plenty of times and can assure your protection.”

Drake couldn’t allow that. Last night, he had barely slept thinking about her. Two days abroad and he’d go crazy. “I can’t. I have a lot of things planned for that week, Li. I’m sorry.”

Liam squinted at him, puzzled. “You were going to go to the semi-finals anyway, that’s why you bought the tickets.”

Fuck! “Yes, but as Alexis won them, I made new appointments.” He was a terrible liar.

Alexis saw through it. “I don’t need a glorified, grumpy baby-sitter, Liam. Thank you very much.”

“I’m sorry, Alexis, but you’re under the crown’s protection until the end of the Social season. I can’t let you go without a guard; it would be terribly irresponsible from me.” He had made up his mind, and she had to start to get used to the fact that a future queen had responsibilities and responded to him.

Alexis was fuming, she was seriously considering quitting her role as a suitor when Drake spoke seeing how much she wanted to go. “It’s fine, I’ll go with her.” He smirked at her “In exchange of the other ticket.”

Liam started to regret his offer. “I really think it’s better if you stay here, lady Alexis.”

She shook her head. She was going to go, no matter what and as she didn’t need the second ticket anyway, she accepted, strangely happy. “The second ticket is yours, Drake! I have to go get ready to bake an apple pie  for the competition.” Before leaving the room, she turned to grin at Drake. “And thank you.” He felt his heart warming up with her smile.

After breakfast, Drake went to the stables. He needed a good day of intense work to forget the stupidest deal he had ever accepted.

It was already difficult to be around her and pretend to be only her friend when they were surrounded by the other suitors and the madness of the social season. Now, he was going to have her all for himself for two days. He shook his head at his own stupidity. She wasn’t there for him and she never would be. She was there vying for Liam’s hand. Liam, his best friend the king. The same man offering her a whole kingdom.

The truth was that Drake had never been jealous of Liam before. He had a good life, a life he enjoyed. He was passionate about his job and excelled at it. He was free to go fishing, hiking or drink a whiskey in a pub whenever he wanted.  It was a life that he had been able to choose for himself unlike Liam who would have to lead the imposed life of a king. So, no, he had never been jealous of his best friend before Alexis O’Brien had arrived in the court. And now, every time Liam so much as looked at her, he wanted to punch him in the face. He definitely shouldn’t have accepted to take her to Liverpool.

Shaking his head, he put on his white coat and his rubber boots and went to check up on Mirabelle.

The next few days he tried to avoid her as much as he could, he had convinced himself that he only needed a little distance, a little space and whatever he was feeling, would naturally go away and they would be able to go together to Liverpool as friends.

A few nights before leaving, he saw her coming out of the palace and walk towards the maze only dressed in a big sweater and some sort of pajama shorts. He debated with himself, but in an impulse, he decided to go after her, just to make sure she was fine.

When he approached the center of the maze, he saw her, and his heart tugged. She was sitting on a bench with her knees up, her head buried in them, clearly crying. He sat next to her, and silently rubbed her back, soothing her. Slowly her sobs stopped, he leaned towards her and cupped her face turning her face to him.

“Do you want to talk about it, Lexie?”

Her heart jumped in her chest. He had never called her anything else besides O’Brien before.  She knew she could open up to him. “My grandfather, Noah,  died exactly one year ago of a heart attack. I really miss him.”

“I’m sorry, O’Brien” his heart broke seeing her so sad “Come here.” He opened his arms and she snuggled against him.

“He and granny practically raised me. He arrived in the States when he was twenty-two years old, but he never lost his accent” She smiled. “He used to call me his little ‘stor’. It means treasure in Irish... He’s …was the bravest man, I’ve ever met.”

He smiled down at her and brushed her cheek with his thumb to wipe a falling tear. “And most importantly he loved Dalmore whiskey.”

She laughed through her tears.  “Yes, almost as much as he loved granny. His dream was to come back to Dublin with me and show me Trinity College where he went to school. He said that I would love the library there.” She brushed another tear. “I’m sorry, I’m such a mess.”

“Shh, I got you, it’s okay. It’s okay, O’Brien” He hugged her tighter “You never have to apologize to me for how you feel.” He had never held her so closely. Her cherry scent was intoxicating, “I always be here for you. I promise.”

She looked at him hurt. “Like you had been these past weeks?”

He shook his head. “I’m just giving you and Liam some space, O’Brien. We’re only friends and he deserves you”

She stood up trembling with fury. “I’m not a fucking prize either of you gets because you deserve it. Don’t you want to be with me?” He didn’t answer, so she insisted. “I think you feel something for me, Drake.” She waited for an answer that never came, he couldn’t tell her anything without betraying his best friend, plus, she was sad and confused and he wasn’t going to take advantage of it.  “Got it. See you at the plane. Good night.” She stormed out leaving Drake more confused than ever.

Three days later, they were ready to leave for Liverpool, Liam had insisted in lending them his private plane so they could come back directly after the match. He wanted her back fast. Drake had required to leave for Liverpool one day earlier because he had business to attend at Kentwood stables, one of Liam’s horse dealers in England.

Alexis installed herself in one of the leather seats when she saw Drake talk to the pilot.

“What was that about, Drake?”

He shrugged “I have no idea what you’re talking about, O’Brien.” He took out a deck of cards from his bag. “Poker?” He wiggled his eyebrows adorably.

She grinned mischievously. “If you don’t mind losing.”

He observed her expression and smirked, she seemed relaxed and happy as he hadn’t seen in her for a long time.

They played the whole flight to Liverpool, teasing each other, Drake was great at poker, but Alexis used to play all the time in college, so they won two games each.

He smiled cockily. “Don’t worry, O’Brien. I’ll beat you later, I was just warming up”

She rolled her eyes playfully “Yeah, suuure.”

When they got off the plane, she saw Drake talking to the pilot again. She waited with her bag for a car to pick them up from the private tarmac, but Drake shook his head.

“Come on, O’Brien. We need to catch a bus to go to the city center.”

She was happy to do something normal for once, but it was unusual. “No car to pick us up?”

He beamed, he didn’t do it often but when he did he looked so handsome it actually made her knees weak. “Not today, come on”

She followed him through the terminal, not paying much attention. When they exited the building, she turned her head and saw a big sign on the top the airport:

“Welcome to Dublin”

She stopped in her tracks, incapable to move for a second. Drake stood next to her waiting for her reaction.

When she finally spoke, she had a small lump in her throat. “How did you do? I- d” Without thinking about it, she threw her arms around his neck pulling him for a hug. He pulled her against him too, allowing himself to enjoy a few seconds of closeness with her, inhaling her shampoo, feeling her against him. When she pulled away her eyes were brighter than usual “Thank you Drake.”

His raised his hands. “Hey, I have entirely selfish motives. A friend told me about this distillery where they supposedly have great whiskey.”

They went to the B&B where Drake had booked two rooms, a cozy, small place called The Blackrock. It was perfect, the lobby was full of books with a lit fireplace and the lady at the reception was warm and kind.

Before leaving, Alexis decided to change her clothes, she had woken up too early and had lazily thrown a pair of jeans and Converses on.

It was a sunny day in May, but they were in Dublin and it was relatively cold. She decided to wear a red, short sweater dress with a V neck, a pair of tights and her Doc Martens. She put on some black eyeliner, a touch of gloss, and sprayed her Lost Cherry perfume, on her wrists and neck. She felt giddy and nervous to spend the day with him. After a last look in the mirror she took her leather jacket and went downstairs.

She waited at the lobby sitting next to the fireplace, Drake had told her that he needed to make some calls to the Veterinary clinic at the Palace. It made her smile how much he loved his job. How much he cared about it.

Drake saw her as soon as he came down the stairs but waited for her to see him, before announcing himself. At the risk of sounding like a stalker, he wanted to watch her for a few seconds, he spent so much time trying to hide whatever it was she stirred up in him that he never let himself just admire her. She was incredibly beautiful, but it was the energy she irradiated that made his heart stop every time he looked at her. He shook his head; he was quickly approaching a very dangerous territory.

He cleared his throat “I see you’re warming up by the fire.”

She grinned. A true smile, just for him. “I was waiting for you, but I’m ready to go. Do you have anything planned?”

He gave her a conspiratorial smile. “I have some things in mind. Do you trust me?”

She couldn’t help the earnest look in her eyes, when she answered. “Totally.”

They decided to walk, it was a long stroll, but they wanted to make the most of their time there. She pulled her camera out of her huge handbag and took pictures of everything she could. She loved the vibe of the city open and colorful. Everyone seemed relaxed and stress free. Even Drake. She succeeded to take two shots of him when he wasn’t looking.

He knew he only had two days with her. He was trying really hard to keep his thoughts at bay but just the way she looked at everything and the joy she transpired while they explored the city was enough to make him forget his good resolutions.

He remembered the conversation he had had with Liam the day before. They had been drinking at his office when Liam had suddenly told him that he regretted having authorized the trip.

“What do you mean?

“I thought you were my friend, and maybe you still are, but I saw you in the maze last night, Drake. You were holding her.” Seeing that his friend was about to talk, he raised his hand “Just remember who she belongs to.”

Drake felt a rush of anger, his fists immediately balling. “She doesn’t belong to anyone, Liam. She can do whatever she wants. Last night she was sad, that’s all.”

“It may be, but just in case, remember that she’s here for me. She deserves the world, she deserves to be a queen, Drake. My queen.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. Liam was right, she deserved the world and more, so he’d have to settle with being his friend.  

They had been walking more than an hour, when they saw an imposing grey building. She screamed with excitement, recognizing it immediately. Her grandfather had showed her hundreds of pictures of it while he talked about his younger years in Dublin.

He was touched to see her eyes watering at its sight but didn’t dare to do anything else but stroke her cheek with the back of his hand.

“Aww, O’Brien. Come on, let’s see that library”

They were both amazed as soon as they entered the famous Long Room. It was majestic. The sight was imposing, high wooden ceilings and walls, millions of ancient books covering the shelves, and infinite rows of marble busts honoring the greatest writers and philosophers of history.

They looked together for Jonathan Swift, Noah’s favorite writer, while Alexis told him anecdotes of her childhood, and how he used to read her ‘Gulliver’s travels’ before bed. She seemed nostalgic but happy to remember him.

“He was a great man, O’Brien. And even if I didn’t know him, I’m sure he would be very proud of you.”

She sighed. “I don’t know… I think he definitely would’ve disapproved of the idea of me competing for a prince’s hand.”

Drake looked at her intently trying to figure out how she felt about it, he knew she was in love with Liam, but at the same time he couldn’t deny that there was something else going on between the two of them, something undefined and powerful.

After seeing the Book of Kells, they spent the rest of the day exploring the city. They took pictures next to Molly Malone, ordered a Fish and chips at Presto’s, and got lost in the Jaime’s Joyce museum.

Alexis bought a colorful painting portraying the famous Dublin doors, and Drake got his wish of visiting the Roe & Coe Distillery where he felt like a little boy in a candy store. It was a perfect day. Both of them yearned for it to last, but neither of them took a step towards the other.

They want out of the distillery slightly drunk, laughing like crazy. “Last stop ‘The workman’s bar’, O’Brien. Maxwell recommended it.” He grinned, she had never seen him so happy, so relaxed. What she’do to kiss those dimples. “I’m dying to show you the Temple Bar area. Come on!” He added when he saw she was lost in her thoughts.

The pub was packed, they had trouble finding a table but after a few minutes they found one close to the stage.

He asked for their drinks, two double whiskeys. She gulped hers.

“Easy O’Brien, this is not a competition” He beamed, again, she was almost getting used to it.

She looked at him with fire in her eyes. “I can do whatever I want tonight. And I want to drink. Oh, I know! Let’s play a drinking game!” She beamed.

“You want to play a drinking game, against me O’Brien?” He arched his brows “Are you sure?”

She gave him a devilishly smile, just what he needed to go insane. “I’m not playing, Walker, I’m winning”

He chuckled “You’re such a cocky ass. Let’s see that” His phone rang, it was the clinic. “Just a sec, O’Brien. I’ll take this outside.”

When he came back, he saw her talking with one of the guys from the table next to hers. He cut the distance between them as fast as he could. When the guy saw Drake sit next to her clearly angry, he babbled a quick good night and left as fast as he could.

She witnessed his behavior extremely annoyed. He had been clear, he only wanted to be her friend. So why did he behave like that?

“What the fuck, Drake? Why are you so angry?” The words came out of her mouth before she could stop them. “Are you jealous?”

He was tired too, tired of wanting her so badly, tired of months watching her from the distance, tired of pretending he felt nothing for her, when he couldn’t think about anything else. He fixed his eyes on her. “Like crazy.”

She leaned to kiss him, but Liam was in there, present between the two of them. He cupped her face. “We can’t O’Brien. You love him, I know that.”

She shook her head. How was it possible that someone that knew her so perfectly well, that could almost see through her soul was so incapable of reading her true feelings. “Forget it, Drake. It’s fine.”

He heard the hurt in her voice and started to wonder if maybe, only maybe, she felt…something for him.

They sat in silence until someone stood up on the stage and began to sing ‘Hey, Jude’ with a voice way off key.

“Fucking Maxwell, he recommeneded a karaoke bar!” He groaned but after a few more seconds of the singer torturing The Beatles they burst into laughs easing the tension. They played several games and talked about their childhoods and years of college. After several singers, the host of the evening called Alexis’s name.

She chuckled at his puzzled expression. “I wrote my name in the list when I went to the bathroom.” She stood up and went to the stage.

For the hundredth time that day, his mouth went dry just looking at her. She was so incredibly sexy that he couldn’t think straight. The red of her dress illuminated her face, making her black eyes darker, her full lips irresistible. The dress wasn’t tight but it was short so he could admire her long legs and thanks to the V neck, part of her cleavage. He was sure no one at that pub had seen anyone more beautiful or sexy than her. He smirked when the song started. She had chosen Marvin Gaye by Charlie Puth.

She began to slowly sway her hips with the rhythm of the song and started singing. He shook his head; Not only was she softly dancing, which was enough to push him over the edge, but he had heard her sing before and knew he was doomed. She had a low voice, sultry, soft. Like a moan.

We got this king size to ourselves

Don't have to share with no one else Don't keep your secrets to yourself It's karma sutra show and tell

She was slowly moving her hips and looking at him fixedly as she sang. He stared back, his black eyes looking at her so intently she felt like she was going to combust. He leaned against his seat, with the tumbler in his hand, licking his lips, savoring the moment as much as she was, letting his eyes tell her all the things he wanted to do to her.

You got to give it up to me

I'm screaming mercy, mercy please Just like they say it in the song Until the dawn, let's Marvin Gaye and get it on

She had chosen that song on purpose. Every time he heard her sing for mercy, he felt a twitch in his pants. Every time she moved her hips asking him to get lost with her until dawn, he was tempted to go on stage, take her and fuck her right there in the bathroom.

The applause took him out of his trance. He saw her approaching the table where they were seated. Fuck, he didn’t give a damn anymore, he wanted her, painfully, agonizingly. He left the money for the drinks on the table and intercepted her on her way to the table. He gripped her hand and led her outside. He had called an Uber but they had to wait for it. Except that Drake couldn’t wait another moment, he pressed her against the first wall he found and leaned towards her; whispering in her ear. “What are you doing, O’Brien? I told you not to play those games with me.”

She smiled biting her lip, and then shrugged “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He growled burying his nose in her neck, softly smelling her cherry scent; making her shiver “Fuck! You have no idea what you do to me, do you?”

Her heart couldn’t have beat faster. She felt like it was going to go out of her chest.

He fixed his eyes on her “If you want to scream for mercy, Lexie” He brushed her neck with his fingers, as his other hand stroked the small of her back and he kissed her earlobe. “I’ll make you scream all night.”

She was physically incapable to form words, so she nodded. A nod. All it took was soft movement of her head and hell broke loose. He placed his hand on her back and pulled her against him crashing his mouth with hers, caressing her face. He nipped her lips and let his hands wander through her body, desperate, impatient.

They arrived at her room fifteen minutes later, after a painfully long Uber ride.

She tried to open the door, but Drake was behind her, his arm around her waist, his lips on the nape of his neck. “Drake, god!”

Finally, she opened the door, and they almost stumbled inside. He was still behind her, still ravaging her neck. He took her by her waist and in easy movement turned her face to him kissing her lips again. They were better than he had imagined, with a sweet taste, soft and tender at his contact. He scooped her in his arms and took her to the bed. He stopped for a second to look at her. His goddess, gorgeous, with swollen lips and messy hair.

He smiled down on her “Are you sure you want this, O’Brien?” She nodded, lost in the sandalwood.

“I didn’t hear anything, Lexie”

“Yes, I’m sure” she panted.

He locked eyes with her as he put a strand of hair behind her ear “You better be, because if I make you mine tonight, I’ll never let you go again.” She nodded again, grabbing the back of his head to crash their lips again.

They took each other's clothes in desperate movements. “Fuck, Alexis you’re so damn gorgeous.”

He grabbed her from her waist and sat on the edge of the bed with her on his lap.  She straddled him as his passionate kisses made her crazy. She threw her head back giving him full access to her breasts that he cupped kissing the spot where her jaw and neck connected, his thumbs slowly teasing her hard nipples. She moaned loudly.

“Drake, please”

Drake smiled against her neck “Are you asking for mercy, Lexie?” His question was joined by the movement of his right hand wandering through her body producing jolts of electricity everywhere he touched her, until he finally reached her core. He stroked her skin enjoying how soft she was, before circling the little nub inside of her with his thumb.

Drake growled “Fuck, Lexie, you’re so wet for me” He kept teasing her, touching everything bit of skin around her clit.

“God, Drake, you’re driving me crazy, please…” Drake’s finger suddenly entering her, not letting her finish.

“Is this what you want, Lexie?” He whispered to her ear. She nodded lazily too excited to answer. “Come for me” He slid another finger inside making her writhe against him, her breaths becoming shorter, and shorter as she clung to Drake’s back.

“Drake, I…I god Drake fuck!” She screamed when a powerful wave of heat ran across her body leaving her wasted.

Drake steadied her with his arms, stroking her back. He kissed the top of her head giving her time to recover.

“Fuck me, Drake”

He buried his mouth in her hair. “I told you I was going to make you scream for mercy.” He positioned himself with the tip of his dick rubbing her center “Look at me, O’Brien. I want to see your pretty face as I enter you”

She gasped and locked her eyes with him, her hands around his neck, his gaze piercing hers, as he entered her slowly, giving her time to adjust to him.

He growled again biting her shoulder. “Damn, Lexie you feel incredible baby, so fucking tight”

Drake didn’t know at what moment, but the energy of the room had shifted. He felt much more than a powerful lust for her. He wanted to have her, all of her, forever. They rocked their hips at the same pace, slowly at first but sooner increasing speed staring at each other as their movements became more passionate. He kissed her lips deeply, lost in her. They both felt a connection like neither of them had experienced before. He hit her spot several times making her moan his name over and over again. Without taking his eyes off of her, he stroked her clit as they both reached a point of no return.

“Drake!” She screamed his name yet again, as her muscles compressed around him. Feeling her come screaming his name pushed him over the edge, and he filled her completely.

They fell down on the bed, spent. He pulled her close to him and kissed her front.

“Are you staying?” His heart tugged at the vulnerability of her soft voice.

“If you want me to stay, O’Brien. I’ll never leave again.” She smiled against his chest as they both drifted to sleep, only to woke up a few hours later and made love again.

The morning light woke her up. He was hugging her tightly against him, with his chin on her shoulder, his breath in her ear. She had never felt safer or happier before, until a horrible thought crept into her head. What if he didn’t want her anymore? What if he decided again that she belonged with Liam?

She felt him move behind her. Maybe she should be casual about it, but she had no idea of how she would be able to do that. There was nothing casual about the way they had made love the night before. The expression was cheesy but it fit perfectly. The connection between them was deep and explosive.

His raspy voice pulled her out of her thoughts. “Hi.”

She turned to face him and her heart skipped a beat when she saw his smile and the soft expression on his eyes. “Hi.”

Lucky. That was how Drake had felt that morning when he had opened his eyes. Like the luckiest bastard in the world. She was cuddled against him, bare and exposed to him, he could hear her soft breaths, smell her delicate scent. After all the reservations he had had, and the torment of thinking she loved Liam, he was elated to be with her that morning. He didn’t doubt anymore, not after the way she had given herself to him the previous night. He felt she was awake and whispered a soft hi in her ear. When she turned to him, he couldn’t control himself much longer. He had to make her his again.

After spending the morning making love, they took a shower together and got ready for Liverpool. Neither of them dared to talk about the future, unwilling to break their little bubble with practical matters or with Liam’s name.

They took the Ferry at Holyhead and arrived at Liverpool at 6:20, just in time to grab a little something to eat and go to Anfield Stadium.

The atmosphere was intense. Liverpool’s and Barca’s flags flooded the streets, mixed with chants in English and Spanish everywhere. It was electric.

Once at their gate, they had to wait in line to enter because security was checking people’s bags. Drake turned to watch Alexis’s face, she was almost jumping with exhilaration and a warm feeling spread all over his chest. He smiled to himself, never in his wildest dreams he could’ve anticipated coming there with her. He moved behind her and looped his arms around her waist protectively, there were too many people, too much excitement, she could easily get hurt.

They located their seats and Drake left to get a couple of drinks. He shook his head amused when he came back, she had taken her jumper off revealing her Barca’s shirt, a blue spot in a sea of red.

“Do you have a death wish, O’Brien?” He chuckled.

“It’s not my fault I have good taste” She shrugged.

“Come here” He cupped her face and kissed her softly, seriously considering the idea of skipping the match and taking her to a hotel room in Liverpool. “You have no idea how much I want you all time, Lexie.”

She smiled and kissed him too, overwhelmed by all the things she was feeling.

“Have you ever come to a Liverpool’s match before?”

She shook her head no. “It’s the first time.”

“Prepare yourself, everybody talks about the emotions of Liverpool's supporters, but it’s really something else when you see it in person.”

She opened her big eyes wide. “Are you telling me that the dark and brooding Drake Walker is capable of enjoying displays of emotion?”

He chuckled. “You’re a pain in the ass, O’Brien. You know that, don’t you?” He pushed aside the hair from her face and kissed her.  

He was right; Liverpool supporter’s emotions were all over the place. They sang their hymn wholeheartedly, but it was when the first notes of ‘You’ll never walk alone’  played on the speakers that goosebumps appeared all over her arms. Every single person around her was singing passionately, pouring all their hearts on the song. One single voice for more than forty thousand supporters cheering for the players entering the field.

“Ready to lose, Walker?”

“Lose? Prepare for the greatest come back in the history of football, O’Brien”

She laughed cockily. “Love your optimist side, Drake. We’re three points ahead”

The referee blew the whistle announcing the beginning of the game.

Drake and Alexis were equally excited yelling instructions at their respective teams in a mix of English and Spanish.

At the seventh minute, Drake yelled emphatically as Origi scored the first goal. "Yes! Let's go!”

Alexis was fuming screaming in Spanish to the goalkeeper. “¡Pinche Stergen! ¡Muévete carajo!”.

He couldn’t believe how adorable she looked when she was that angry. He teased her in the hope to infuriate her even more. “That’s one, O’Brien, we have at least three more to go.” He said matter-of-factly, clearly enjoying the fire in her eyes.

The rest of the first half-time passed uneventfully, with no more goals of either team.

“You’re not so cocky now, are you, Walker?”

He groaned. “We still have a second time to go, O’Brien, don’t count your chickens just yet”

She smiled cockily, only a miracle could save Liverpool at that point. However, sixteen minutes after the whistle for the second time, the miracle happened when Wijnaldum scored two goals in a two-minute interval.

Twenty-three minutes later Origi nailed the final nail in the coffin scoring an historical goal, eliminating Barcelona from the competition.

Alexis screamed furiously at Stergen, Piqué and the rest of the team. Drake stopped his celebration for a minute to watch her as she jumped on her seat screaming. Her energy was exciting, contagious. There in the middle of a football match after the most incredible night of his life, he realized something he knew for a long time now, but that he hadn’t dared to accept before. He grabbed her by her waist taking her down off of her seat. She used the momentum to straddle him and kiss his lips passionately, as his hands wandered along her back sending electricity everywhere. When he parted, he cupped her face, an earnest look in his chocolate eyes.

“I love you, Lexie. I’m completely crazy about you”

God, she loved him so much that his words touched her profoundly. She cleared her throat and fixed her dark eyes on him. “I love you too, Drake. With everything in me.”

He crashed her mouth with hers again in the middle of the cheers and ovations of the Liverpool supporters.

“We’re definitely not going  back to Cordonia tonight.”

.

.

Alexis snuck out of the palace and called an Uber that took her to the local Irish pub in less than fifteen minutes.

The bar was a cozy place with large wooden panels, solid counters and Irish music.

She was about to sit on one of the stools when she felt someone’s eyes behind her, staring at her. She turned her head and there he was, Drake Walker sitting in a booth with a tumbler of whiskey in his hand. He raised his glass towards her, trying to ignore the fact that his heart had skipped a beat when he had seen her.

After ordering a pint, she sat next to him with her usual perky attitude. “What are you doing out of you cabin in the woods, Walker?”

He squinted at her “The real question is what are you doing here, O’Brien? Out of the palace without a guard.”

She shrugged. “I wanted to watch the match, and I’m staying. You can take me back to the palace as soon as Barcelona kicks Liverpool’s ass”

God, she was exasperating. “Of course, you would be a Barcelona’s fanatic.”

“You mean the best club in the world?” She took off her leather jacket, she was wearing the famous blue and scarlet Barcelona’s shirt.

He growled. “You can’t sit with me wearing that.”

She gave him a flirtatious look. “Would you prefer if I took it off?”

Sometimes, he swore she was actively trying to torture him. He took her chin with his fingers fixing his piercing eyes on hers.

“You don’t want to play that game with me, O’Brien.” He said in a hoarse voice.

She swallowed hard, her heart beating furiously in her chest. When he finally tore his eyes away from her, she took a long sip of beer.

After a few silent minutes, she spoke. “I can’t believe you’re actually rooting for Liverpool. They haven’t won a Champions league in thirteen years.”

He growled. “I’m so sure we’re beating Barcelona tonight, that I bought tickets for the second leg.”

She sat on the booth cross-legged hugging a cushion. “You seem awfully confident that your team, a team that hasn’t win in ages, is going to beat the best team there is.” She gave him a confident smile. “Want to bet?”

“The best team…?” He shook his head. “What do you want to bet?”

“If Barcelona wins tonight, you give me your semi-final tickets.”

He raised his hands shocked. “Are you crazy, do you know how much I paid for those tickets?”

She reached for his arm and squeezed it with a fake empathic expression on her face. “Don’t worry, Drake if I were rooting for such losers, I wouldn’t want to bet the tickets either.”  

He considered her proposal for a minute, well aware that she was provoking him on purpose, but he just couldn’t back out when she was challenging him. “I’m in, but if you lose you have to get me tickets for next year’s matches. All the matches.” He saw her stunned expression, so he added irritated. “You’ll be queen next year O’Brien, it’d be easy for you to get them.”

She didn’t know why but it really bothered her that he would assume she was going to accept Liam’s proposal. She reached for his hand anyway. “Deal, Walker.”

For the next two hours they sat next to each other, drinking and bickering playfully. In the halftime he challenged her to a game of darts, she wasn’t bad at all, and she certainly looked extremely cute when she concentrated but he beat her easily, reaching 501 points in ten minutes.

However, at the end of the second half of the match, he was seriously pissed, not only he had lost his precious semi-final tickets, but he also had to put up with her cocky attitude while she celebrated Barcelona’s victory.

After a while of singing and cheering with a group of Spaniards, she came back to the table, ecstatic, and extended her hand towards him pointing at her palm. “The tickets, Walker.”

He groaned “Do you think I carry them with me all the time, O’Brien? I’ll give them to you at the palace.”

She laughed truly enjoying her victory. “So grumpy! I didn’t know you were such a sore loser, Drake. I’ll go get another pint. What are you drinking?”

He rolled his eyes. “Dalmore, fifteen years. Just tell them to put it on my tab. I come here often.”

She mimicked a fake surprise. “That’s so shocking!”

He laughed in spite of himself. She added playfully. “And Dalmore, eh? Being a veterinarian definitely pays.”

He smirked shrugging “I don’t need much, O’Brien, but I definitely need good whiskey. How do you know Dalmore?”

“My grandpa loved whiskey. Especially that one.” Her eyes watered thinking about her grandfather but she shook her head to chase the tears.

Drake saw her eyes and his heart tightened; he raised his hand to stroke her cheek, but squeezed her shoulder instead, pouring his eyes into hers to make her feel comforted without words.

It worked because she gave him a small smile, he had rolled his sleeves, so she rubbed his forearm with her fingers softly, almost tenderly, making him crazy. Why did she have to make it so fucking difficult being close to her? He stood up.

“We better leave, Obrien. It’s late and tomorrow we have to travel to Applewood.”

She didn’t want the night to end. For a minute she allowed herself to think about the life she would have had with Drake if they were a couple, if she had met him alone. If she hadn’t been so stupid to be blindsided by Liam’s charm, but when he abruptly stood up, she understood. He didn’t feel the same about her. She had to forget her stupid crush and move on.

They drove back in silence, both of them embarrassed, both of them hurt and filled with unspoken feelings.

The next day, Alexis felt much better. She had drunk too much the previous night and the alcohol had put crazy ideas in her head. It was clear that Drake only saw her as an annoying friend, so she would do the same.

Liam was different, even if the little spark that had initiated at the Statue of Liberty hadn’t become the fire she was hoping for, he was there for her. He had been clear about his feelings for her. Maybe love wasn’t the crazy passion she thought. Maybe love was calm, peaceful and reliable.

Or maybe she just needed to think for a few days, put some distance between her and that stupid competition. She thought about the football tickets she had won. She was definitely going to that semi-final, Drake, Liam and royal court be damned.

She knew Liam would be having breakfast in the main hall, so she went looking for him. She entered the hall and stopped in her tracks. Liam was having breakfast, but he wasn’t alone.

She cleared her throat. “Hi guys!”

Liam’s face lit up seeing her. “Lady Alexis. Good morning.”

Drake gestured a quick hello with his hand and turned back to reading his paper.

Mr. Polite as usual. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you, Li. I want to leave the court for a few days. I’m going to England for the semi-finals of the Champions league”

Liam stopped eating and looked at her puzzled. “That’s in two weeks from now, Alexis. The coronation is in less than three weeks. I would’ve expected that you wanted to be here.”

“Yes! Of course, Li. It’s only for a couple days. England is four hours away. I just want to watch the match. It’s… important for me”

Liam was uncomfortable, he didn’t want her to leave. Even if he couldn’t tell her yet, he had decided he was going to choose her as his queen. And her place was there with him not at some dumb football competition. “Where did you even get the tickets?”

Drake took his head out of the paper. “we made a bet and she won them from me.”

Liam grinned “I told you Liverpool was going to lose, Drake. You have to pick a winner’s team.” He turned to Alexis, speaking to her in a soft voice. “As a suitor and especially as the woman I care about, I-.”

Drake stood up so fast, he almost spilled his coffee. “I don’t think I should be part of this conversation.”

Liam raised his hand. “Actually, Drake, yes. Stay. I was going to say that I care very deeply about you, Alexis. I can’t let you go alone because you’re a member of the royal court, you’ll need protection. Unfortunately, I can’t spare any guards right now, but if Drake accepts, he can go with you. He has trained with Bastien plenty of times and can assure your protection.”

Drake couldn’t allow that. Last night, he had barely slept thinking about her. Two days abroad and he’d go crazy. “I can’t. I have a lot of things planned for that week, Li. I’m sorry.”

Liam squinted at him, puzzled. “You were going to go to the semi-finals anyway, that’s why you bought the tickets.”

Fuck! “Yes, but as Alexis won them, I made new appointments.” He was a terrible liar.

Alexis saw through it. “I don’t need a glorified, grumpy baby-sitter, Liam. Thank you very much.”

“I’m sorry, Alexis, but you’re under the crown’s protection until the end of the Social season. I can’t let you go without a guard; it would be terribly irresponsible from me.” He had made up his mind, and she had to start to get used to the fact that a future queen had responsibilities and responded to him.

Alexis was fuming, she was seriously considering quitting her role as a suitor when Drake spoke seeing how much she wanted to go. “It’s fine, I’ll go with her.” He smirked at her “In exchange of the other ticket.”

Liam started to regret his offer. “I really think it’s better if you stay here, lady Alexis.”

She shook her head. She was going to go, no matter what and as she didn’t need the second ticket anyway, she accepted, strangely happy. “The second ticket is yours, Drake! I have to go get ready to bake an apple pie  for the competition.” Before leaving the room, she turned to grin at Drake. “And thank you.” He felt his heart warming up with her smile.

After breakfast, Drake went to the stables. He needed a good day of intense work to forget the stupidest deal he had ever accepted.

It was already difficult to be around her and pretend to be only her friend when they were surrounded by the other suitors and the madness of the social season. Now, he was going to have her all for himself for two days. He shook his head at his own stupidity. She wasn’t there for him and she never would be. She was there vying for Liam’s hand. Liam, his best friend the king. The same man offering her a whole kingdom.

The truth was that Drake had never been jealous of Liam before. He had a good life, a life he enjoyed. He was passionate about his job and excelled at it. He was free to go fishing, hiking or drink a whiskey in a pub whenever he wanted.  It was a life that he had been able to choose for himself unlike Liam who would have to lead the imposed life of a king. So, no, he had never been jealous of his best friend before Alexis O’Brien had arrived in the court. And now, every time Liam so much as looked at her, he wanted to punch him in the face. He definitely shouldn’t have accepted to take her to Liverpool.

Shaking his head, he put on his white coat and his rubber boots and went to check up on Mirabelle.

The next few days he tried to avoid her as much as he could, he had convinced himself that he only needed a little distance, a little space and whatever he was feeling, would naturally go away and they would be able to go together to Liverpool as friends.

A few nights before leaving, he saw her coming out of the palace and walk towards the maze only dressed in a big sweater and some sort of pajama shorts. He debated with himself, but in an impulse, he decided to go after her, just to make sure she was fine.

When he approached the center of the maze, he saw her, and his heart tugged. She was sitting on a bench with her knees up, her head buried in them, clearly crying. He sat next to her, and silently rubbed her back, soothing her. Slowly her sobs stopped, he leaned towards her and cupped her face turning her face to him.

“Do you want to talk about it, Lexie?”

Her heart jumped in her chest. He had never called her anything else besides O’Brien before.  She knew she could open up to him. “My grandfather, Noah,  died exactly one year ago of a heart attack. I really miss him.”

“I’m sorry, O’Brien” his heart broke seeing her so sad “Come here.” He opened his arms and she snuggled against him.

“He and granny practically raised me. He arrived in the States when he was twenty-two years old, but he never lost his accent” She smiled. “He used to call me his little ‘stor’. It means treasure in Irish... He’s …was the bravest man, I’ve ever met.”

He smiled down at her and brushed her cheek with his thumb to wipe a falling tear. “And most importantly he loved Dalmore whiskey.”

She laughed through her tears.  “Yes, almost as much as he loved granny. His dream was to come back to Dublin with me and show me Trinity College where he went to school. He said that I would love the library there.” She brushed another tear. “I’m sorry, I’m such a mess.”

“Shh, I got you, it’s okay. It’s okay, O’Brien” He hugged her tighter “You never have to apologize to me for how you feel.” He had never held her so closely. Her cherry scent was intoxicating, “I always be here for you. I promise.”

She looked at him hurt. “Like you had been these past weeks?”

He shook his head. “I’m just giving you and Liam some space, O’Brien. We’re only friends and he deserves you”

She stood up trembling with fury. “I’m not a fucking prize either of you gets because you deserve it. Don’t you want to be with me?” He didn’t answer, so she insisted. “I think you feel something for me, Drake.” She waited for an answer that never came, he couldn’t tell her anything without betraying his best friend, plus, she was sad and confused and he wasn’t going to take advantage of it.  “Got it. See you at the plane. Good night.” She stormed out leaving Drake more confused than ever.

Three days later, they were ready to leave for Liverpool, Liam had insisted in lending them his private plane so they could come back directly after the match. He wanted her back fast. Drake had required to leave for Liverpool one day earlier because he had business to attend at Kentwood stables, one of Liam’s horse dealers in England.

Alexis installed herself in one of the leather seats when she saw Drake talk to the pilot.

“What was that about, Drake?”

He shrugged “I have no idea what you’re talking about, O’Brien.” He took out a deck of cards from his bag. “Poker?” He wiggled his eyebrows adorably.

She grinned mischievously. “If you don’t mind losing.”

He observed her expression and smirked, she seemed relaxed and happy as he hadn’t seen in her for a long time.

They played the whole flight to Liverpool, teasing each other, Drake was great at poker, but Alexis used to play all the time in college, so they won two games each.

He smiled cockily. “Don’t worry, O’Brien. I’ll beat you later, I was just warming up”

She rolled her eyes playfully “Yeah, suuure.”

When they got off the plane, she saw Drake talking to the pilot again. She waited with her bag for a car to pick them up from the private tarmac, but Drake shook his head.

“Come on, O’Brien. We need to catch a bus to go to the city center.”

She was happy to do something normal for once, but it was unusual. “No car to pick us up?”

He beamed, he didn’t do it often but when he did he looked so handsome it actually made her knees weak. “Not today, come on”

She followed him through the terminal, not paying much attention. When they exited the building, she turned her head and saw a big sign on the top the airport:

“Welcome to Dublin”

She stopped in her tracks, incapable to move for a second. Drake stood next to her waiting for her reaction.

When she finally spoke, she had a small lump in her throat. “How did you do? I- d” Without thinking about it, she threw her arms around his neck pulling him for a hug. He pulled her against him too, allowing himself to enjoy a few seconds of closeness with her, inhaling her shampoo, feeling her against him. When she pulled away her eyes were brighter than usual “Thank you Drake.”

His raised his hands. “Hey, I have entirely selfish motives. A friend told me about this distillery where they supposedly have great whiskey.”

They went to the B&B where Drake had booked two rooms, a cozy, small place called The Blackrock. It was perfect, the lobby was full of books with a lit fireplace and the lady at the reception was warm and kind.

Before leaving, Alexis decided to change her clothes, she had woken up too early and had lazily thrown a pair of jeans and Converses on.

It was a sunny day in May, but they were in Dublin and it was relatively cold. She decided to wear a red, short sweater dress with a V neck, a pair of tights and her Doc Martens. She put on some black eyeliner, a touch of gloss, and sprayed her Lost Cherry perfume, on her wrists and neck. She felt giddy and nervous to spend the day with him. After a last look in the mirror she took her leather jacket and went downstairs.

She waited at the lobby sitting next to the fireplace, Drake had told her that he needed to make some calls to the Veterinary clinic at the Palace. It made her smile how much he loved his job. How much he cared about it.

Drake saw her as soon as he came down the stairs but waited for her to see him, before announcing himself. At the risk of sounding like a stalker, he wanted to watch her for a few seconds, he spent so much time trying to hide whatever it was she stirred up in him that he never let himself just admire her. She was incredibly beautiful, but it was the energy she irradiated that made his heart stop every time he looked at her. He shook his head; he was quickly approaching a very dangerous territory.

He cleared his throat “I see you’re warming up by the fire.”

She grinned. A true smile, just for him. “I was waiting for you, but I’m ready to go. Do you have anything planned?”

He gave her a conspiratorial smile. “I have some things in mind. Do you trust me?”

She couldn’t help the earnest look in her eyes, when she answered. “Totally.”

They decided to walk, it was a long stroll, but they wanted to make the most of their time there. She pulled her camera out of her huge handbag and took pictures of everything she could. She loved the vibe of the city open and colorful. Everyone seemed relaxed and stress free. Even Drake. She succeeded to take two shots of him when he wasn’t looking.

He knew he only had two days with her. He was trying really hard to keep his thoughts at bay but just the way she looked at everything and the joy she transpired while they explored the city was enough to make him forget his good resolutions.

He remembered the conversation he had had with Liam the day before. They had been drinking at his office when Liam had suddenly told him that he regretted having authorized the trip.

“What do you mean?

“I thought you were my friend, and maybe you still are, but I saw you in the maze last night, Drake. You were holding her.” Seeing that his friend was about to talk, he raised his hand “Just remember who she belongs to.”

Drake felt a rush of anger, his fists immediately balling. “She doesn’t belong to anyone, Liam. She can do whatever she wants. Last night she was sad, that’s all.”

“It may be, but just in case, remember that she’s here for me. She deserves the world, she deserves to be a queen, Drake. My queen.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. Liam was right, she deserved the world and more, so he’d have to settle with being his friend.  

They had been walking more than an hour, when they saw an imposing grey building. She screamed with excitement, recognizing it immediately. Her grandfather had showed her hundreds of pictures of it while he talked about his younger years in Dublin.

He was touched to see her eyes watering at its sight but didn’t dare to do anything else but stroke her cheek with the back of his hand.

“Aww, O’Brien. Come on, let’s see that library”

They were both amazed as soon as they entered the famous Long Room. It was majestic. The sight was imposing, high wooden ceilings and walls, millions of ancient books covering the shelves, and infinite rows of marble busts honoring the greatest writers and philosophers of history.

They looked together for Jonathan Swift, Noah’s favorite writer, while Alexis told him anecdotes of her childhood, and how he used to read her ‘Gulliver’s travels’ before bed. She seemed nostalgic but happy to remember him.

“He was a great man, O’Brien. And even if I didn’t know him, I’m sure he would be very proud of you.”

She sighed. “I don’t know… I think he definitely would’ve disapproved of the idea of me competing for a prince’s hand.”

Drake looked at her intently trying to figure out how she felt about it, he knew she was in love with Liam, but at the same time he couldn’t deny that there was something else going on between the two of them, something undefined and powerful.

After seeing the Book of Kells, they spent the rest of the day exploring the city. They took pictures next to Molly Malone, ordered a Fish and chips at Presto’s, and got lost in the Jaime’s Joyce museum.

Alexis bought a colorful painting portraying the famous Dublin doors, and Drake got his wish of visiting the Roe & Coe Distillery where he felt like a little boy in a candy store. It was a perfect day. Both of them yearned for it to last, but neither of them took a step towards the other.

They want out of the distillery slightly drunk, laughing like crazy. “Last stop ‘The workman’s bar’, O’Brien. Maxwell recommended it.” He grinned, she had never seen him so happy, so relaxed. What she’do to kiss those dimples. “I’m dying to show you the Temple Bar area. Come on!” He added when he saw she was lost in her thoughts.

The pub was packed, they had trouble finding a table but after a few minutes they found one close to the stage.

He asked for their drinks, two double whiskeys. She gulped hers.

“Easy O’Brien, this is not a competition” He beamed, again, she was almost getting used to it.

She looked at him with fire in her eyes. “I can do whatever I want tonight. And I want to drink. Oh, I know! Let’s play a drinking game!” She beamed.

“You want to play a drinking game, against me O’Brien?” He arched his brows “Are you sure?”

She gave him a devilishly smile, just what he needed to go insane. “I’m not playing, Walker, I’m winning”

He chuckled “You’re such a cocky ass. Let’s see that” His phone rang, it was the clinic. “Just a sec, O’Brien. I’ll take this outside.”

When he came back, he saw her talking with one of the guys from the table next to hers. He cut the distance between them as fast as he could. When the guy saw Drake sit next to her clearly angry, he babbled a quick good night and left as fast as he could.

She witnessed his behavior extremely annoyed. He had been clear, he only wanted to be her friend. So why did he behave like that?

“What the fuck, Drake? Why are you so angry?” The words came out of her mouth before she could stop them. “Are you jealous?”

He was tired too, tired of wanting her so badly, tired of months watching her from the distance, tired of pretending he felt nothing for her, when he couldn’t think about anything else. He fixed his eyes on her. “Like crazy.”

She leaned to kiss him, but Liam was in there, present between the two of them. He cupped her face. “We can’t O’Brien. You love him, I know that.”

She shook her head. How was it possible that someone that knew her so perfectly well, that could almost see through her soul was so incapable of reading her true feelings. “Forget it, Drake. It’s fine.”

He heard the hurt in her voice and started to wonder if maybe, only maybe, she felt…something for him.

They sat in silence until someone stood up on the stage and began to sing ‘Hey, Jude’ with a voice way off key.

“Fucking Maxwell, he recommeneded a karaoke bar!” He groaned but after a few more seconds of the singer torturing The Beatles they burst into laughs easing the tension. They played several games and talked about their childhoods and years of college. After several singers, the host of the evening called Alexis’s name.

She chuckled at his puzzled expression. “I wrote my name in the list when I went to the bathroom.” She stood up and went to the stage.

For the hundredth time that day, his mouth went dry just looking at her. She was so incredibly sexy that he couldn’t think straight. The red of her dress illuminated her face, making her black eyes darker, her full lips irresistible. The dress wasn’t tight but it was short so he could admire her long legs and thanks to the V neck, part of her cleavage. He was sure no one at that pub had seen anyone more beautiful or sexy than her. He smirked when the song started. She had chosen Marvin Gaye by Charlie Puth.

She began to slowly sway her hips with the rhythm of the song and started singing. He shook his head; Not only was she softly dancing, which was enough to push him over the edge, but he had heard her sing before and knew he was doomed. She had a low voice, sultry, soft. Like a moan.

We got this king size to ourselves

Don't have to share with no one else Don't keep your secrets to yourself It's karma sutra show and tell

She was slowly moving her hips and looking at him fixedly as she sang. He stared back, his black eyes looking at her so intently she felt like she was going to combust. He leaned against his seat, with the tumbler in his hand, licking his lips, savoring the moment as much as she was, letting his eyes tell her all the things he wanted to do to her.

You got to give it up to me

I'm screaming mercy, mercy please Just like they say it in the song Until the dawn, let's Marvin Gaye and get it on

She had chosen that song on purpose. Every time he heard her sing for mercy, he felt a twitch in his pants. Every time she moved her hips asking him to get lost with her until dawn, he was tempted to go on stage, take her and fuck her right there in the bathroom.

The applause took him out of his trance. He saw her approaching the table where they were seated. Fuck, he didn’t give a damn anymore, he wanted her, painfully, agonizingly. He left the money for the drinks on the table and intercepted her on her way to the table. He gripped her hand and led her outside. He had called an Uber but they had to wait for it. Except that Drake couldn’t wait another moment, he pressed her against the first wall he found and leaned towards her; whispering in her ear. “What are you doing, O’Brien? I told you not to play those games with me.”

She smiled biting her lip, and then shrugged “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He growled burying his nose in her neck, softly smelling her cherry scent; making her shiver “Fuck! You have no idea what you do to me, do you?”

Her heart couldn’t have beat faster. She felt like it was going to go out of her chest.

He fixed his eyes on her “If you want to scream for mercy, Lexie” He brushed her neck with his fingers, as his other hand stroked the small of her back and he kissed her earlobe. “I’ll make you scream all night.”

She was physically incapable to form words, so she nodded. A nod. All it took was soft movement of her head and hell broke loose. He placed his hand on her back and pulled her against him crashing his mouth with hers, caressing her face. He nipped her lips and let his hands wander through her body, desperate, impatient.

They arrived at her room fifteen minutes later, after a painfully long Uber ride.

She tried to open the door, but Drake was behind her, his arm around her waist, his lips on the nape of his neck. “Drake, god!”

Finally, she opened the door, and they almost stumbled inside. He was still behind her, still ravaging her neck. He took her by her waist and in easy movement turned her face to him kissing her lips again. They were better than he had imagined, with a sweet taste, soft and tender at his contact. He scooped her in his arms and took her to the bed. He stopped for a second to look at her. His goddess, gorgeous, with swollen lips and messy hair.

He smiled down on her “Are you sure you want this, O’Brien?” She nodded, lost in the sandalwood.

“I didn’t hear anything, Lexie”

“Yes, I’m sure” she panted.

He locked eyes with her as he put a strand of hair behind her ear “You better be, because if I make you mine tonight, I’ll never let you go again.” She nodded again, grabbing the back of his head to crash their lips again.

They took each other's clothes in desperate movements. “Fuck, Alexis you’re so damn gorgeous.”

He grabbed her from her waist and sat on the edge of the bed with her on his lap.  She straddled him as his passionate kisses made her crazy. She threw her head back giving him full access to her breasts that he cupped kissing the spot where her jaw and neck connected, his thumbs slowly teasing her hard nipples. She moaned loudly.

“Drake, please”

Drake smiled against her neck “Are you asking for mercy, Lexie?” His question was joined by the movement of his right hand wandering through her body producing jolts of electricity everywhere he touched her, until he finally reached her core. He stroked her skin enjoying how soft she was, before circling the little nub inside of her with his thumb.

Drake growled “Fuck, Lexie, you’re so wet for me” He kept teasing her, touching everything bit of skin around her clit.

“God, Drake, you’re driving me crazy, please…” Drake’s finger suddenly entering her, not letting her finish.

“Is this what you want, Lexie?” He whispered to her ear. She nodded lazily too excited to answer. “Come for me” He slid another finger inside making her writhe against him, her breaths becoming shorter, and shorter as she clung to Drake’s back.

“Drake, I…I god Drake fuck!” She screamed when a powerful wave of heat ran across her body leaving her wasted.

Drake steadied her with his arms, stroking her back. He kissed the top of her head giving her time to recover.

“Fuck me, Drake”

He buried his mouth in her hair. “I told you I was going to make you scream for mercy.” He positioned himself with the tip of his dick rubbing her center “Look at me, O’Brien. I want to see your pretty face as I enter you”

She gasped and locked her eyes with him, her hands around his neck, his gaze piercing hers, as he entered her slowly, giving her time to adjust to him.

He growled again biting her shoulder. “Damn, Lexie you feel incredible baby, so fucking tight”

Drake didn’t know at what moment, but the energy of the room had shifted. He felt much more than a powerful lust for her. He wanted to have her, all of her, forever. They rocked their hips at the same pace, slowly at first but sooner increasing speed staring at each other as their movements became more passionate. He kissed her lips deeply, lost in her. They both felt a connection like neither of them had experienced before. He hit her spot several times making her moan his name over and over again. Without taking his eyes off of her, he stroked her clit as they both reached a point of no return.

“Drake!” She screamed his name yet again, as her muscles compressed around him. Feeling her come screaming his name pushed him over the edge, and he filled her completely.

They fell down on the bed, spent. He pulled her close to him and kissed her front.

“Are you staying?” His heart tugged at the vulnerability of her soft voice.

“If you want me to stay, O’Brien. I’ll never leaving again.” She smiled against his chest as they both drifted to sleep, only to woke up a few hours later and made love again.

The morning light woke her up. He was hugging her tightly against him, with his chin on her shoulder, his breath in her ear. She had never felt safer or happier before, until a horrible thought crept into her head. What if he didn’t want her anymore? What if he decided again that she belonged with Liam?

She felt him move behind her. Maybe she should be casual about it, but she had no idea of how she would be able to do that. There was nothing casual about the way they had made love the night before. The expression was cheesy but it fit perfectly. The connection between them was deep and explosive.

His raspy voice pulled her out of her thoughts. “Hi.”

She turned to face him and her heart skipped a beat when she saw his smile and the soft expression on his eyes. “Hi.”

Lucky. That was how Drake had felt that morning when he had opened his eyes. Like the luckiest bastard in the world. She was cuddled against him, bare and exposed to him, he could hear her soft breaths, smell her delicate scent. After all the reservations he had had, and the torment of thinking she loved Liam, he was elated to be with her that morning. He didn’t doubt anymore, not after the way she had given herself to him the previous night. He felt she was awake and whispered a soft hi in her ear. When she turned to him, he couldn’t control himself much longer. He had to make her his again.

After spending the morning making love, they took a shower together and got ready for Liverpool. Neither of them dared to talk about the future, unwilling to break their little bubble with practical matters or with Liam’s name.

They took the Ferry at Holyhead and arrived at Liverpool at 6:20, just in time to grab a little something to eat and go to Anfield Stadium.

The atmosphere was intense. Liverpool’s and Barca’s flags flooded the streets, mixed with chants in English and Spanish everywhere. It was electric.

Once at their gate, they had to wait in line to enter because security was checking people’s bags. Drake turned to watch Alexis’s face, she was almost jumping with exhilaration and a warm feeling spread all over his chest. He smiled to himself, never in his wildest dreams he could’ve anticipated coming there with her. He moved behind her and looped his arms around her waist protectively, there were too many people, too much excitement, she could easily get hurt.

They located their seats and Drake left to get a couple of drinks. He shook his head amused when he came back, she had taken her jumper off revealing her Barca’s shirt, a blue spot in a sea of red.

“Do you have a death wish, O’Brien?” He chuckled.

“It’s not my fault I have good taste” She shrugged.

“Come here” He cupped her face and kissed her softly, seriously considering the idea of skipping the match and taking her to a hotel room in Liverpool. “You have no idea how much I want you all time, Lexie.”

She smiled and kissed him too, overwhelmed by all the things she was feeling.

“Have you ever come to a Liverpool’s match before?”

She shook her head no. “It’s the first time.”

“Prepare yourself, everybody talks about the emotions of Liverpool's supporters, but it’s really something else when you see it in person.”

She opened her big eyes wide. “Are you telling me that the dark and brooding Drake Walker is capable of enjoying displays of emotion?”

He chuckled. “You’re a pain in the ass, O’Brien. You know that, don’t you?” He pushed aside the hair from her face and kissed her.  

He was right; Liverpool supporter’s emotions were all over the place. They sang their hymn wholeheartedly, but it was when the first notes of ‘You’ll never walk alone’  played on the speakers that goosebumps appeared all over her arms. Every single person around her was singing passionately, pouring all their hearts on the song. One single voice for more than forty thousand supporters cheering for the players entering the field.

“Ready to lose, Walker?”

“Lose? Prepare for the greatest come back in the history of football, O’Brien”

She laughed cockily. “Love your optimist side, Drake. We’re three points ahead”

The referee blew the whistle announcing the beginning of the game.

Drake and Alexis were equally excited yelling instructions at their respective teams in a mix of English and Spanish.

At the seventh minute, Drake yelled emphatically as Origi scored the first goal. "Yes! Let's go!”

Alexis was fuming screaming in Spanish to the goalkeeper. “¡Pinche Stergen! ¡Muévete carajo!”.

He couldn’t believe how adorable she looked when she was that angry. He teased her in the hope to infuriate her even more. “That’s one, O’Brien, we have at least three more to go.” He said matter-of-factly, clearly enjoying the fire in her eyes.

The rest of the first half-time passed uneventfully, with no more goals of either team.

“You’re not so cocky now, are you, Walker?”

He groaned. “We still have a second time to go, O’Brien, don’t count your chickens just yet”

She smiled cockily, only a miracle could save Liverpool at that point. However, sixteen minutes after the whistle for the second time, the miracle happened when Wijnaldum scored two goals in a two-minute interval.

Twenty-three minutes later Origi nailed the final nail in the coffin scoring an historical goal, eliminating Barcelona from the competition.

Alexis screamed furiously at Stergen, Piqué and the rest of the team. Drake stopped his celebration for a minute to watch her as she jumped on her seat screaming. Her energy was exciting, contagious. There in the middle of a football match after the most incredible night of his life, he realized something he knew for a long time now, but that he hadn’t dared to accept before. He grabbed her by her waist taking her down off of her seat. She used the momentum to straddle him and kiss his lips passionately, as his hands wandered along her back sending electricity everywhere. When he parted, he cupped her face, an earnest look in his chocolate eyes.

“I love you, Lexie. I’m completely crazy about you”

God, she loved him so much that his words touched her profoundly. She cleared her throat and fixed her dark eyes on him. “I love you too, Drake. With everything in me.”

He crashed her mouth with hers again in the middle of the cheers and ovations of the Liverpool supporters.

“We’re definitely not going back to Cordonia tonight.

So, @pedudley​ made me this beautiful mood board of them traveling, and I immediately thought about this fic. So for me these are the photos they took to each other. 

 . 

                     .

[ificanthaveu]

Epilogue: Roommates, First Downs and Promises || The DropBack || Shawn Mendes

Description: One year later, you make the short trip to UCLA for the USC game and for your first anniversary.

A/N: I am SO SORRY this is late, but ya girl was swamped this weekend. And as an apology, you’re getting a second epilogue!!! Yay!!!

Word Count: 2.1k

This is an epilogue to a series! Catch up before you read this part!

Your foot tapped impatiently as you waited outside Elsie’s dorm room with Matthew. You were two seconds away from smacking him since he couldn’t stop humming some song you listened to on the way over here. Matthew was going to your hometown’s technical college, and since you didn’t have a vehicle on campus, he had to swing by and pick you up before heading to UCLA for the game.

The humming continued.

“Matthew, I’ve only been with you for forty-five minutes, and I already can’t wait for you to leave,” you said a little louder than intended.

The humming stopped, and Matthew scoffed, “You’re acting all mean, but we all know you missed me. You haven’t gone more than a week without seeing me in years. Admit it, your heartbroken.”

You shook your head and forced out a laugh, “I’ll admit it once Elsie is on time for something for once.”

“Oh, that will never happen then, huh?” He said with a small frown.

You pulled out your phone and called her for the fourth time. The three of you needed to get to the game, but you couldn’t get into her dorm building and half the school was already there.

“Hello?” She finally picked up.

“El, Matthew and I have been sitting here for fifteen minutes. Please get down here,” you said a little too dramatically.

“OH, shit. On my way!” You heard some rustling before she hung up.

Minutes later she was swinging the door open and sprinting into Matthew’s arms. The two hugged for just a minute too long as you coughed a little. She finally let go and enveloped you in a hug.

“I know it’s only been two weeks since I last saw you, but this shit is hard,” Elsie mumbled into your shoulder. 

“I know,” you mumbled back. 

She pulled away from you and handed over the jersey in her hand.

“Shawn told me to give this to you,” she said with a small smile. 

You smiled back and slipped on his jersey over your tank top. You swore you’d never wear UCLA colors or anything related to them, but you guessed you were allowed to bend the rules for Shawn.

“Alright, we’re going to be late,” Matthew finally said. The three of you started the walk to the stadium a few blocks from Elsie’s dorm.

“How’s the roommate?” You asked Elsie.

She rolled her eyes before saying, “Getting better. Her boyfriend isn’t coming over every night anymore, but she now comes back at 3:00 am, incredibly loud, on school nights.”

“Have you talked to someone about switching at semester?” You asked.

She shrugged, “I don’t know if it’d be worth it. I’d probably just get stuck with another problem.”

“Hey, if you have to transfer to USC, I won’t complain,” you said with a smirk.

“I would never betray my school like that. You’ll be wanting to transfer here once we kick your ass today,” she taunted.

You fawned offense. “There’s no way you’re going to beat us. We’re undefeated so far, and who’s not undefeated? Oh, yeah, that’s right…” you shot back at her.

“I can’t believe you would be so rude to Shawn the day before your anniversary. My heart hurts for you,” she said while placing a hand to her chest.

“I hope Shawn has a great game. I just hope the rest of your team chokes,” you said with a smile. 

—

In your opinion, UCLA’s stands were not nearly as lively as USC’s, but you’d just have to deal with it for today. You and Elsie agreed sitting in a neutral zone would be your best option since you wouldn’t be caught dead in UCLA’s student section, and she wouldn’t be caught dead in USC’s.

So here you were, screaming your lungs off for both teams, in the smack dab middle of the two student sections. Both teams had just run out on the field, and you could spot Shawn on the sidelines during the kickoff. It’d been two weeks since you’d last seen Shawn when he and Elsie visited you, and it had been three months since you both moved into your respective colleges. The thirty-minute drive was nothing but with your course load, Shawn’s football schedule and all the freshman welcoming activities you all had to do, finding time to see each other was difficult. But you both promised each other you’d try your hardest to see each other as often as possible. And as the welcome activities finally died down, you tried seeing each other, at the very least, every other week. Sure, this wasn’t “long-distance,” but it was as long as the two of you ever had to go.

David was starting, and Shawn was lucky enough to be second-string this year as a freshman. You thought, hopefully, he’d get in before halftime.

David had scored a touchdown, and after the following kick off, Shawn ran out on to the field. There couldn’t have been a better two minutes of the game. You, Elsie and Matthew were screaming your heads off as the ball was thrown to Shawn, and he got the first down. You could even see David cheering on the sidelines.

The whole game was neck and neck. Surprisingly enough, you and Elsie didn’t fight or trash talk once it got into it. You’d be fine with whoever won, even though you were a little impartial to USC. On the other hand, you wanted Shawn to be happy. 

It was within the final few seconds that UCLA kicked the game-winning field goal, and the stands erupted. You laughed as Elsie jumped up and down and rubbed it in your face. You weren’t living this one down.

The three of you sprinted out of the stadium and to the back entrance where UCLA’s team would be coming out shortly. 

One by one, players started to come out to find family and friends that were waiting for them. Shawn’s parents came to wait by you guys after a few minutes. 

You saw Shawn walk out and scan over the crowd. Before he even saw you, you were running towards him, dodging people in your way. His eyes met yours just moments before you were jumping into his arms, wrapping your arms and legs tightly around him.

“You did so good,” you mumbled into his shoulder. 

You could feel him laugh as he tightened his grip on you. 

“I missed you so much, baby girl,” he whispered back to you. 

“I love you,” you said softly, just for him to hear.

“I love you, too,” he whispered before setting you down to greet Matthew, Elsie and his parents. Once he’d hugged everyone, you were glued to his side, and his arm stayed tightly around your waist.

“How are you taking the loss, [Y/N]? Hurt just as much as you thought it would?” Mrs. Mendes said with sympathy. 

You pressed your hand to your heart and nodded your head.

“You know, I really didn’t care who won this game. It was a win-win in my book,” you responded.

Elsie scoffed, “That’s not what she was saying four hours ago.”

“Our record’s still better,” you sing-songed as Shawn squeezed your side.

“Ouch,” he mumbled. 

You hit his chest lightly as he shook his head at you.

“All out of love, babe,” you reminded him.

“Uh-huh, sure,” he sarcastically affirmed as you began to talk towards the other exit to find David.

After weaving in and out of groups, you found him leaning against the wall talking to his girlfriend of six months, Adalia.

You gave David a quick hug before he greeted everyone else.

“Shawn, I’m disappointed, but congratulations,” David said with a forced smile. Shawn shook his head and tried not to smile too big.

“Thanks. It was a pleasure finally being able to play you,” he said. 

“We’ll get you next time. Whether it be playoffs or next year, I will beat your ass at some point,” David said nonchalantly. 

“Guess we’ll have to wait and see,” Shawn said with a smirk.

“[Y/N], are you staying this weekend?” Adalia asked you. 

You nodded your head before looking at Shawn. “Our one year is tomorrow,” you said as she smiled at the two of you.

“And here you didn’t believe in love,” Elsie mumbled under her breath.

“The world works in mysterious ways,” David said as he wrapped an arm around Adalia.

—

You spent the rest of the night in Shawn’s dorm, cuddled underneath a pile of blankets, binge-watching The Office. Lucky for the two of you, his roommate was gone this weekend, so you had some much needed alone time. 

The next morning you woke up as the sun peeked through the window. You curled into Shawn even more, the twin size bed barely being able to hold the two of you, but you made it work.

You felt him shuffle next to you and watched as his eyes slowly opened. 

“Happy anniversary,” you whispered to him with a small smile. 

He smiled back at you as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Best year of my life,” he mumbled. 

“What’s the plan today, Mendes?” You said as you rested your chin on his chest. 

“I plan on laying in this bed with you until early afternoon,” he mumbled as he dug his head deeper in the pillow. “And then dinner at your favorite restaurant at 7:00.”

“Sounds good to me,” you said as you rested your head against his arm again, falling back asleep a few moments later.

—

You went to Elsie’s dorm to get ready for the evening as Shawn got ready in his with Matthew. You finished some final touches on your makeup as you heard a knock on her door and Elsie talking to Shawn and Matthew shortly after.

You stepped out of the small bathroom and did a little twirl in the new dress you bought for the night before pulling Shawn in for a hug.

“I’m so damn lucky,” he mumbled as he held you tight. 

You both said goodbye to Elsie and Matthew before starting the long walk to Shawn’s car in the farthest lot on campus. Thank God you didn’t wear heels.

He swung your hands back and forth as you talked about everything and anything until you finally got to Shawn’s car and started the drive to the restaurant. 

You were seated immediately, and neither of you had to even look at the menus since you’d been here quite a few times. 

Shawn played with your hand from across the table, lightly touching your nails you’d just gotten done.

“I love you,” he said out of nowhere as he looked up at you. 

You smiled back at him and held on to his hand before saying, “Love you more.”

“Not possible,” he said with that dopey smile he’d get. 

Your food came and you talked while you ate before walking to the park down the street. You settled onto a bench to watch the sunset over the trees.

“I got you something,” Shawn said softly as he pulled out a small box from his pocket.

“You weren’t supposed to get me anything,” you said as you crinkled your nose at him.

“Well, you aren’t sneaky, so I know you have something for me back at my dorm. And Elsie told me,” he said with a smirk.

“I hate that the two of you are actually real friends now,” you said as he handed you the box.

You slowly unwrapped it and opened it up to see a delicate ring with a small topaz in the center. 

“Shawn,” you gasped as you ran your finger across the ring. “It’s perfect.”

He pulled the box out of your hand, took the ring out and slid it onto your finger. You smiled up at him and leaned in to press a long kiss to his lips. You pulled away and held his face softly in your hand, running your thumb lightly across your cheekbone.

“That’s going to be an engagement ring someday,” he said as he looked down at it. He looked you in the eyes before continuing, “I promise.”

“Really?” You said quietly.

He nodded his head. “I know I’m going to spend the rest of my life with you,” he paused. “I can’t even describe the feeling. I just know.”

You kissed him quickly as you both smiled through it. 

“I can’t wait,” you whispered against his lips before he kissed you again. 

And from the year you’d spent with Shawn, there was one thing you were sure of.

He always kept his promises. 

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Tag list: @peacedolantwins2 @shawn-youth @t-holland2080 @feliciaceciliamariajacobsson @enchantingbrowneyedgirl @particularnervous @mariamuses @shawnsvlogsquad @theetherealbloom @innocentb3an @haute-shawn​ @gigi-maria-argu @athenamikaelson​ @marvelousmendess​ @madon566​ @thewackywriter​ @shawnwyr​ @kitty084​ @wildflowernightmere​ @fallmoreinlove​ @outlandishnerd @nxmelesspaula-blog​ @train-wrecc​ @gangofhoes​ 

[lady-olive-oil]

Chapter 3

|| Characters || Intro || Ch 1 || Ch 2 || Ch 3

A/N: Hey everybody!! So here’s the next installment of Brown Sugah Baby. The events in this story are complete imagination, and I don’t own the characters of BP. Nor do I own the Divine Nine; Southern University or the Fabulous Dancing Dolls, I only own the OCs. Thank you for reading and stay tuned for more!

Word Count: 2,506 [had to get in the details hunny]

Warnings: nothing really besides harsh banter.

Tag Squad: @maddiestundentwritergaines || @destinio1 (I need extra help so gotta tag my girls) @designerwriterchic @terrablaze514

[let me know if you’s like to be apart of the tag squad]

It was another scorching humid day at Southern University, and everyone had their hands full. Tailgating, getting the team ready for the game, the band tuning their instruments for the halftime show, the majorette team stretching and making sure the speakers were loud enough. The whole campus was on fire about the homecoming game against Alabama. One thing's for sure though, M’Baku could not focus for the life of him.

“Dude. You playin or not?” Erik nudged his teammate to get him out of the trance he was in.

“Huh? Uh y-yeah. Sorry man, I was just distracted. Let’s play.” Getting refocused on the plays for the game, he glance back at her occasionally.

What caught his eye you may ask? His best friend in her dark blue leggings and an SU tank top, practicing with the majorette team. The SU Fabulous Dancing Dolls, were one of the best in the land; and everyone knew it.

Once Nefe became captain, she made them even better. She lead the team to nationals her first year. It was like the music was in her blood, and she could throw out a stand like nobody’s business.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were checking out your so called best friend. Who I might add, was -“

“Sean, think about what your gonna say. Choose wisely before I send you to Jesus early.” M’Baku stopped him before he could even finish. These two were like bulls in a China shop.

They were constantly butting heads over Nefe and it didn’t make sense. One was only with her for the sex but she didn’t see it like that; the other was  her best friend and would do anything to protect her. Which mad shin want to go the extra mile to make sure she was safe at all costs. Yet it made Sean want to work harder to keep her.

“Or what? You gonna stomp me into the ground like a elephant?” The joking tone was paired with a sickening smirk. Sean wouldn’t let up with the Africa jokes and it made the situation worse.

“At it again with the African jokes I see.” The disapproving chuckle that left M’Baku’s lips, was a rare one because Erik was eating this up with a shit eating grin.

“What are you gonna do about then, huh? As far as I’m concerned you don’t have feelings for her, or do you? Cause either way, I’m gonna be the one she wakes up to every night till senior year.”

Now he was just taunting him. The low growl that erupted from his chest was loud enough for both men to hear.

“Man you straight up buggin. Even I know that ain’t right, and I was just like you.” Both of them looked towards where to voice came from. Erik of all people got over his old ways once he met Nakia. She put him in his place and he never left since.

“Your only chance of getting laid again, Sean, is crawling up a chickens ass and waiting.” M’Baku eyed him up and down and smirked a bit at his own roast, upon hearing the football team egging him on.

“Whatever man.” With that Sean just backed off, going back to stretching.

“Never in my years of living, would I be around to see you stand up for me. Of all people really.”

“Man, you’ve been there for my shit. I gotta be there for you. We boys, we gotta stick together.”

Erik was right. In this world all they had was each other, and for him to stand up for M’Baku like that was eye opening.

“I wonder what that was all about.” Nefe being an on looker to what just happened, taking a break from practice and all. Nattie knew exactly what it was about and Nakia pointed it out first.

“The boys were arguing over you. I’m so close to beating the hell out of Sean.”

Nefe sighed at what her friend was saying and didn’t even wanna ask as to why. She was tired of the boys fighting, yet was ecstatic for Erik breaking it up.

“Ya boy stopped em too. I don’t know how you got him to draw back is gangsta ways, but I gotta hand it to ya Kia.”

“He’s still like that, just a bit toned down. I love me some Erik though.” Nakia was smitten over Erik just the same. Them two, along with T’Challa and Nattie, were what Nefe wanted in a real relationship.

What she had with Sean, was just for fun. Did she tell Sean that? Nope. She couldn’t because she was afraid he’d hurt her again, and by hurt her that meant grabbing her. She only told Nattie and the girls, mortified about how M’Baku would feel. He’s very protective over her, along with her brothers too.

“Oh please. That fine ass man with locs can have any woman he wants. Even me, I have the body; mind and skills to prove it. I’m surprised he’s even dating you. You have less hair than he does.”

Nakia nearly lunge for her, but Okoye grabbed her before she could claw her face.

Melanie couldn’t stand anyone else’s happiness but her own. Tearing others down was her thing, and she never got tired of it.

“Listen here med school,” Nefe got tired of her whack behind and was about to give her a piece of her mind.

“Save it. If only you were on the cheer team. Because as captain I wish I could kick your as off the squad.” She got in Nefe’s face, at a comfortable distance.

“As a 2nd degree black belt, I can just kick your ass.” Nefe sucks her teeth and looked her up and down.

“I’d like to see you try-” Melanie was off till the coach called her back, and she gave them a sinister look before sassaying away.

“Count ya blessing bruja! You better be lucky she’s holding me back!” Nakia growled in rage and Melanie smirked before going back with the cheer team.

Ain’t no way in hell, was Nefertiti about to have her on the majorette team and not think about choking her.

“Alright y’all. Save the fight for the parties tomorrow. We have a game to practice for. Nakia, good job on your Spanish.” Nefe winked at her friend, who then gave her a hug.

“Nefe’s right. Come on.” Nattie rallied them all together, with the rest of the team, and got into formation.

“We doing Formation or Dose?” Nattie asked before pressing play on the laptop, that was plugged in near the stands.

The smirk laced that Nefe’s face, was a triumphant one.

“Let’s switch it up. We’re doing Dose.”

~The Game: Southern University vs Alabama A&M~

The game was close. It was 77 to 76 with SU in the lead so far. M’Baku has scored the touchdown and the field goal kick. Only 2 more quarters left to go and the crowd was hyped, with a sea of sky blue, yellow and white. Nefe gathered up the girls in a huddle one last time for a prayer. A Southern University tradition.

“Alright girls, one shoe in.” All the girls places their right foot in the circle and Nefe led the prayer. They all held each other’s waists and bowed their heads.

“Father god, I ask that you cover and protect us as you always do going into these life changing moments. We ask that you guide our senior girls to victory and cover them with your hedge of protection, dear lord. Marchbus into victory, in your name we pray..”

“Amen.”

Sending off with a proper SU chant, getting into position and putting on smiles was what the girls were used to. Down south with an HBCU halftime was a goldmine. It was like watching the history of black rhythm come alive.

“Nattie. There go ya boy.” Nefe nugged her best friend nodding in the direction of T’Challa, dressed in his drum major outfit, practicing.

Anyone who knows Nattie and T’Challa is that, she’s the dancer one of the two. Even though he tries his best, he knows he’s enjoying himself. Who else would be best as drum major?

“This fool here knows how to make people laugh. He loves what he does and that all I can hope for.”

Nefe could see the love in her best friends eyes, as she gazed at the goofy man with the feather hat. That’s what she truly wanted and needed in life; an honest and loving relationship. She kept battling with her herself on it and couldn’t decide when it was time to be upfront with Sean about it.

“I see you love. Good luck out there like always.” He cape over to give her a hug, the girls and the band all made noise with the sign of affection between the two.

“You two are cute. Ok Drumline, we gotta go. Lead us on Udaku.” Nefe smirked and gave him a fist bump, sharing a quick laugh, before watching him leave to start the whistle to let the girls go.

Their outfits were jumpsuits with sheer tights, that were a lustrous jet black; with cut out parts. The ensemble hugged every curt and left little to no imagination, as the girls sashayed from the outside of the field to the field. Hearing the crowd cheering them on as they lead the band in all their glory.

They all had their hair down and pressed out, in order off them to whip them back and forth. Except for Nefe because she refused to take her braids out, since she just got them done.

M’Baku knew where to look, as he glance at the field watching his best friend move with grace and elegance, to the music of the band. That was until his coach told him to come back and was embarrassed, causing Erik to laugh a bit.

T’Challa was doing his thing as any great drum major would, and gave the crowd a show. Any HBCU had a great leader, and Southern University had one of the best. Whomever was next in line, had to live up to his expectations.

The music changed quick as Nefe threw out the first stand, everyone in the stands was into the groove with the music as well. Everyone knew the Dolls would be immaculate as whatever song they danced to and didn’t expect less from the team.

The girls followed Nefe’s every move with a smooth nature. Throwing out high kicks; backflips, a few twerking moments and few gyrating movements. The girls felt right at home. Plus adding little bit of Latin flare of course.

Getting the crowd hype was what the Fabulous Dancing Dolls were known for. All the right counts; the formations and the stands were on point. All the way down to the strut back to the stands.

[Watch this to get a visual!!]

As the game went on, the hype never died down. The girls were allowed to stand on the sidelines with the cheerleaders, during the last 5 minutes of the game.

“The suspense is killing me man. Alabama State A&M is gonna probably kick our ass.”

“Come on Nefe. Have a little faith in our boys. They’ve never disappointed us and won’t now.”

Nattie tried her best to calm her friend down as they watched the game. This M’Baku’s first game as a running back and it was only his junior year. He had strived to be quarterback by time senior year came, and would never back down from striving to get there.

“I just hope he doesn’t miss this. This could be his big break for the head spot next year.” Nefe couldn’t hold in her excitement as much as she’d like to, and Melanie scoffed at her in annoyance.

“Oh please. Why are you so worried about M’Baku’s chances of being quarterback for? He’s got me as his good luck charm to worry for him.”

“Listen here Med School, I had a enough of your shit for one lifetime let alone in practice. I’m his best friend and I have a right to worry.” With as much fire to throw back at her, Nefe snarled and gave a once over.

“Why do you care? It’s not like-”

“Shut the hell up before I herky you in the throat.”

Nefe cut her off before she could ever start, and paid attention to the game. Getting antsy with anticipation.

“M’Baku, this is all you my dude. Score it for us, better you than Sean.” Erik encourages him as he glances his way, receiving a head nod and a smile.

“I got you.” With a gentle smirk towards him, and a wave to the Nefe but Melanie took it as one to her. He shook his head in defeat and got back in the game. As the call was heard he caught the ball from David, and ran for the end zone from the 40 yard line.

“Go M’Baku!” Nefe and her girls cheered him on along with the crowd.

Melanie had had enough and decided to speak up.

“Why are you so into his future, not like he likes you or whatever.”

“I’m into his future as much as he is into mine. That’s what friends do. Scouts are out here tonight, like they are at every game so they look out for him. I’m his friend and he is mine. Whomever he dates has to deal with it.”

Nefe didn’t even have to look at her to explain her reasoning. Hell, she didn’t need to and yet still did. Receiving a high five from Nattie, she got back into the game and was on the screaming happily when M’Baku scored the winning touchdown. Making the score 98 to 83.

The crowd's reaction was just like hers, as both majorette and cheer teams ran onto the field with the superfans. Nefe knew who’d she wanted to hug but was stopped by Sean and hugged him anyway.

“Did you see me babe? How’d I do?” He was too prideful in himself to congratulate the rest of his team.

“Uh yeah. You did great. I’ll catch you later ok? I gotta get the girls ready to uh march out.” Placing a kiss on his cheek, earning her a smile before he headed out to talk to his boys. She made a beeline for M’Baku, once they saw each other. He picked her up, spinning her around in glee.

“We did it! That was amazing.” M’Baku smiled as he held her as close as possible.

“I’m so freakin proud of you! You did so well!” Squealing in happiness, holding on tight to him as he spun her. Next thing she knew, she kissed him. It was as if time stood still, and nothing else mattered to either of them. Except for a noise from Sean and Melanie. Once they broke apart, he set her down and a sense of awkwardness filled the air.

“Oh shit..”

[overwatchworks]

McGenji college/highschool au (whatever you prefer) thank you

Jesse jabbed one of his friends in the rib lightly as he made a catcall to Hanzo Shimada as they were walking down the hall to get to their third block of the day.

“Have a little class partner…” He muttered, Joseph scoffing and instead shouting to the older Shimada.

“You look amazing today, as usual Shimada! Wanna go out with me?”

Hanzo continued walking like nothing had happened, eyes trained ahead of him and head moving minutely to some beat.

“Dude, he’s got earbuds in…”

“Goddammit. I’ll just try again next time.” Joseph sighed, then a smirk grew across his features.

“You don’t want me on the bad side of Shimada ‘cause you like the younger one, yeah?”

“You’re never gonna know.” Jesse huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and sticking his nose in the air. His friends all snorted and laughed, not believing it for a second.

“Look at the blush he’s got!” Lance chuckled, Jesse glaring at him with no real heat behind it. 

Everyone in the entire school knew that Jesse McCree and Genji Shimada had an unspoken thing between one another, but it was still all up to speculation since neither had confirmed the suspicions or done anything more than tease some flirting every now and then across the halls to one another.

“There’s no way you two aren’t fucking already. No way.” Harper muttered with a shake of his head, shoving Jesse and smirking.

“He’s not just some object, an’ for your information, I have a more respect for folks than that. So watch your mouth, Harp.” Jesse snapped, Harper raising his hands placidly.

“In denial are we?”

“In your dreams.”

“Shit, there he is with his gang of girlies! Getting everyone hyped for the game tonight, huh?”

“Please, everyone and their cousin’s goldfish are going to be at the game tonight. The final match between us and Talon? Who hasn’t been preparing for this game for a month?”

“You better not let us down Jesse, Akande isn’t that good.”

“Well, when your put up against a hulking, ripped hunk of man meat trained in various martial arts from Nigeria, you come to me an’ we’ll talk then.” Jesse laughed, his friends all joining in. 

He slowed when he passed the girls on the drill team and Genji, eyeing the latter for a moment as an idea sprung into his head.

“Y’all go ahead, I got somethin’ I gotta take care of.” He told his friends, getting snickers out of all of them.

“Gonna finally kiss him?”

“Get on outta here, I’ll tell you later.”

The group complied as Jesse waved them off, running a hand through his hair as he approached Genji. The younger Shimada glanced over at him, eyes lined in gold that matched the blue and silver dance uniforms, the Overwatch school crest and eagle mascot in gold on their arms.

“Well well well, if it isn’t the star of the show? You gonna get us a win tonight Mr. Basketball King?” Genji quipped in a bright tone, eyes narrowing and hands going to his hips. The tight, leathery material of his pants clung to his legs and ass wonderfully, though Jesse didn’t stare for too long.

“I’ll try my damndest. The Talon Panthers are just a piece of work, ‘specially with their new guy on the team.”

“Mhm, Akande Ogundumu. I’ve heard lots about him. I still think we have a very good chance though.” Genji hummed, giving Jesse a very obvious once over to emphasize the implications of his statement.

“Confident enough to bet on it?” Jesse asked, leaning his forearm on the wall next to Genji’s head as he got the man’s full attention.

“A bet hm?”

“Yeah.”

“Well how about this…If you lose, you have to profess your undying love to me in the middle of the hallway on our way to lunch. In poetry form.” Genji offered with a smirk, Jesse making a face.

“Oooh…I hope you know that I’m mighty good at poetry sweetpea.”

“Then I’ll expect a good profession.”

“That sure we’re gonna lose?”

“No, but have you seen Akande? He’s built like a brick shithouse.”

“Eh, I can take ‘im. So…What about if we win?” Jesse inquired, leaning closer as Genji looked up at him with a playfully thoughtful expression.

“Hmmm~ let’s see…You don’t have to shout poetry in the hallway.”

“Yeesh, that ain’t gonna do at all sugar. How ‘bout I get to kiss you if we win?” Jesse gave in counter offer, leaning in close enough to almost brush noses with Genji, voice dropping to a murmur.

“You play a dirty game Mister McCree. But I accept.”

“For you darlin’, I’ll play as dirty as I need to.” Jesse told him with a wink, turning around and throwing some finger guns in Genji’s direction.

“See ya at the game, then. Good luck ladies and gentleman! You’re gonna rock it durin’ halftime!” Jesse called, all the girls cheering and waving at him, wishing him luck as well. Genji watched him go with a smug little smirk, Jesse hurrying off to his next class, waving to at least five people he knew as he passed and giving the others a smile.~“Alright boys, you know the drill. Don’t let the Panther’s new guy scare you, he’s just another player, one that can be beat just like the rest of us. Get out there and kick some ass, give them a good game. Fight hard and stay focused, and we’ll have this game over and won in no time. Go Eagles!” Coach Morrison shouted, the basketball team echoing him and cheering. Jesse clapped his teammates on the back, getting handshakes and light punches from them, everyone excited and ready to play.

“Yo, Jess!”

“What’s up Jensen? Gettin’ nervous?”

“I mean, yeah. It’s the biggest game of the year! And the Panthers are unbeaten…”

“Ah, so what? Just get out there, give ‘em a damn good fight, an’ make sure you have a good time while you’re at it. Don’t worry rookie, ya got this.” Jesse teased, rubbing his hand through the freshman’s hair and effectively mussing it. Jensen was the only freshman on the varsity basketball team, so of course he was nervous at having to play against the single hardest high school team there was.

“Yeah…Yeah we’ll win this for sure!”

“That’s it! Come on, game starts in five.”

“McCree!”

“Yeah, coach?”

“Get up here, you’ll lead the team out!”

“Aye aye captain!”

Jesse jogged to the front of the team, everyone looking good in their blue uniforms with gold eagles on the front, shorts and tank tops lined in silver.

“Alright boys. Knock ‘em dead!”

The team cheered again, Jesse leading the way out into the gym at a slow jog. The wave of cheers hit him as soon as the doors opened, the stands overflowing, everyone screaming and waving posters, banners, flags, and streamers. Student’s faces were painted silver and blue, everyone dressed in school spirit making the stands look like rippling water. 

The cheerleaders and drill team were all on their feet just outside the front row where they were set up, the girls all waving their pompoms with ribbons in their hair. Genji of course stood out a mile away with his shock of green hair, Jesse’s eye drawn to him as they passed and giving him a wink. He was smacked with a borrowed pompom in return, a smile growing on his face as they went onto the court. 

Cheers then went up from the opposite side of the gym, the Talon Panthers section of students wearing black and red to support their team as they ran out onto the court next. Jesse still couldn’t believe the size of Akande as the teams lined up to face one another, everyone with stony and focused expressions as the coaches shook hands. Coach Morrison shook Coach Reyes’ hand with more force than strictly necessary, the Panther’s coach smirking and at ease.

“Good luck, Eagles. You’re gonna need it.” Reyes told them, Morrison narrowing his eyes as he responded.

“Right back at you, Panthers.”

The Talon drill team and cheerleaders all jumped up and down, yelling along with their peers, Jesse noticing a particularly pretty one with long black hair and one with a half shaved head, hair dyed purple at the ends. He’d heard Genji complain about the long haired one, the Shimada always pissed off at all the natural grace she had in competitions just because she did ballet too. 

The referees came onto the court, and the teams got into position, everyone cheering as the ball was tossed into the air and the game started. Akande leapt into the air faster than a snake to snatch away the ball before Jesse could reach it, automatically driving left and speeding towards the basket. The Talon fans all screamed in joy, the Eagles’ shouting encouragement. Jesse was right next to him the whole way, jumping up to block his shot and forcing him to pass to another player. 

Now cheers went up from the Overwatch section as the Eagles took possession of the ball, only to have it stolen away again. Jesse ran back and forth, keeping a close eye on Akande and trying to shove him a bit as he was passed the ball. Akande caught the basketball anyways, dribbling it to the Eagle’s side and able to get past Jesse’s defense this time, the net swooshing as the basket was made.

“Hm. You’re not bad…But you’re not good either.” Akande muttered to Jesse with a smirk, Jesse narrowing his eyes and pushing his hair back.

“You keep on tellin’ yourself that, partner. You’re goin’ down.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Jesse glared at him before they went to reset, the ball immediately flying in his direction. Akande snapped his hand out and caught it again before Jesse could, but he didn’t get far. Jesse took it back and cut around him, hearing screams from the fans as he sprinted down the court and made a shot. It went in smoothly, and was a two-pointer too. He turned to Akande at that, raising a brow with a devilish grin and jogging back to his team. 

The first half went by in what felt like seconds to Jesse, but he was panting and sweating by the time the refs called a break. The Panthers were up by three points-courtesy of Akande in the last few seconds of course-but it was nice to see him just as worn as Jesse was. They’d been neck and neck almost the whole time, and it was tense on both sides. 

Jesse jogged to the sidelines to get some water, fist bumping his teammates as he went. The crowd was cheering as usual, everyone waving their banners and streamers flying everywhere. Jesse sat down gratefully, snatching up a water bottle and gulping down its contents as the drill team and cheerleaders went out onto the court for their performance.

Music started up as they all ran into their formations, the drill team taking the spotlight, heads down and backs to the audience. Their hands were behind their heads, hips jutted out to the side and Jesse couldn’t help but watch one of them in particular as they shifted to the beat of the song. The cheerleaders did flips in the background as the drill team spun to face the crowd, all smiles and narrowed eyes as they walked forward as one unit. 

They then threw their arms in the air, spinning and dropping down into a squat, backs arched and rolling their torsos. The cheerleaders then did flips in a diamond around them, the drill team straightening and moving closer to one another, surrounding on particular green haired dancer. Arms went around him, only one little bounce being warning before Genji was thrown into the air, spinning and twirling as the crowd went absolutely nuts. He of course nailed the landing, a huge grin on his face as they walked forward to the beat again in a triangular formation. 

Their feet moved and the girls all dropped down in a wave, a few in the front all the way to the back, hair flipping in an arc as they raised their heads again. They moved like one, cheerleaders joining the drill team as they bent down again, hips moving now in a full body roll. They circled one another, dancing to the beat and being more than a little suggestive in their movements, but of course they were killing it. 

The music started to fade, everyone striking a pose before Genji went out to the front, pushing his hair away from his face and death dropping effortlessly, arms out by his head. Everyone screamed and cheered, Jesse able to pick out Hanzo’s voice in particular over all the others rooting for his little brother. 

He shouted along with the rest of the crowd, whistling and clapping enthusiastically as the drill team and cheerleaders bowed. They went back to their previous spots, breathing heavily but all of then smiling broadly. Half time was on the retreat, people running to grab concessions real quick as the Talon cheer team did a few chants and dances for their audience. 

Jesse eyed Akande on the other side of the court, finding his opponent was doing the exact same thing back to him. So Jesse shot him some finger guns, tongue sticking out slightly through his smirk. Akande seemed to be amused by it, and he shook his head before looking away. The whistle then blew for the second half of the game to commence and Jesse hopped up, grinning to his teammates.

“We got this y’all.”

He went onto the court, this time faster than Akande in taking the basketball first and driving it down to Talon’s basket. Akande blocked his shot, so Jesse passed it to Jensen, the freshman panicking a bit before going for the shot. It bounced off the rim, the crowd screaming as one of the Panther players was able to grab it. He didn’t go far, Tyler able to fight it back and pass it to Jesse again. It was passed to Jensen for another try, and this time, the ball went in. Everyone went nuts, Jesse clapping the freshman on the back as Jensen grinned.

“See? Ya got nothin’ ta worry ‘bout.”

“Yeah!”

They lined up again, the Panthers running down the court with the ball, then trying to pass to Akande. Jesse threw himself in front of the ball, somehow managing to keep his feet beneath him as he dribbled his way past the Panthers. He passed, sprinted, blocked, grimaced when the Panthers scored a basket, cheered with the crowd when the Eagles made their shots, and it was the last minute of the game when the score finally tied up 25-25. 

Both teams played extremely defensively, Jesse more focused on just keeping the ball away from their basket than anything, but the seconds were ticking down. He glanced to the Eagles section of the audience, seeing everyone on the edge of their seats, still screaming encouragements. Genji was bouncing up and down with the cheerleaders, eyes meeting Jesse’s when he looked over. Jesse winked, then figured he may as well make a last ditch effort because dammit all, he wanted to kiss Genji Shimada. He ran in and took the ball from one of the Panthers, sprinting down the court and hearing everyone counting down with the timer.

“Nine! Eight! Seven! Six!”

Jesse dodged two players coming at him, jumping up and letting the ball slip off his fingers, into the air and—

“Three! Two! On—YEAAAAHHHH!!!”

The swoosh of the net was completely and utterly drowned out by the enthusiasm of the crowd, everyone screaming and throwing blue and silver streamers. Jesse threw his arms into the air and cheered as his team completely swarmed him, everyone jumping up and down and slapping one another on the back, yelling with the crowd. They were ushered into a line to shake hands with the other team, Jesse grinning and congratulating them on an amazing game. Akande gave him a smile and shook his hand firmly.

“Good shot. You played well.”

“Hey, you too man. I almost thought we weren’t gonna make it, you’re so good.” Jesse replied with heart, Akande ducking his head in a little bow of acknowledgement. 

When the niceties were over and everyone had been properly congratulated, Jesse went back towards the stands to grab a towel, everyone pushing their way towards him. He was sweaty and gross, but had earned what he was about to go for, if he could find who he was looking for. Green hair showed itself, and Jesse grinned, pushing his way to Genji and taking his arm.

“Heya darlin’.” He practically shouted, Genji grinning and eyes widening as Jesse leaned in and crushed their lips together. 

He thought that the crowd couldn’t have been louder than they had been when he’d shot that last basket, but he was so wrong. There was an explosion of screams and cheers as Genji melted into him, Jesse’s hand going up to rest on Genji’s neck and tilting his head, lips moving languidly against each other. Jesse had never kissed anyone quite like Genji; addictive, sweet, expressive, everything he had ever dreamed of and more. 

When they broke off, Jesse stayed nose to nose with Genji, both staring at one another in mild shock and excitement. Genji then laughed, clear and beautiful, pressing in for another kiss.

“Well done Jesse. You win this one.” Genji whispered against his lips, Jesse grinning and pecking him again. He could definitely get used to this.~~

[writingsforanyone]

the infamous y/n •part 2

part 2!!! i know i only posted part 1 last night, but i’ve already written all three parts, and i wanted to get this up for you! hope u enjoy!! part 3 soon!!

@blisssection @faypol

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A week had rolled by, and Kelly was finally getting settled it. It was Thursday, and the school was having a pep rally at the end of school. There was a soccer game that night, and a baseball game the next, so there was a lot to celebrate. She walked into the gym with Anna, Hannah, and Clay, and they sat in the first place available, since the bleachers were filling up fast. Once everyone was settled down, the cheerleaders ran out and did a routine, before the captain took the microphone.

“Good afternoon Liberty High School!” she yelled, causing the gym to cheer.

“Today we are here for 2 reasons. Our girls soccer game tonight, and our baseball game tomorrow night. I’m going to start off my introducing our soccer team.” She started naming every team member ending with the captain. “And our captain, Y/N Y/L/N!” Everyone started cheering for her as she waved to everyone. “And now for our baseball team!” She started naming the players, and Kelly heard her name the ones you knew. “Zach Dempsey! Bryce Walker! Monty de la Cruz! and our captain, Jeff Atkins!” Kelly could see Y/N cheering for her friends, and she didn’t miss the wink that Month sent her way. Hannah didn’t miss it either.

“Did you see that?” Hannah said, and Kelly nodded, watching as Y/N sent him a big cheesy smile. “They’re adorable”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Welcome to Liberty High’s first home soccer game of the season! Would both captains please report to center field,” the announcer said. The stands were packed full, and right in front, were the jocks of Liberty, supporting their best friend. Y/N made her way to center field for the coin toss, and after winning, jogged back to her teammates. The team took their positions, with Y/N up the at front, and the ref blew his whistle signaling the start of the game.

“How good is she really?” Kelly asked about Y/N. Her and her new found friends decided to come to the game, sitting further up the stands. “Our freshman year, the scouts that were here watching the seniors were asking about her. Just watch. Guarantee she makes most of the goals tonight.” Just then, the crowd starting getting riled up, and they turned to see the other forward opposite of Y/N dribbling he ball up the field, Y/N running of the other side of the field. The girl, whose jersey said ‘Smith’ of the back, crossed the ball, and Y/N jumped and headed the ball straight past the goal keeper and into the net. The crowd erupted into cheers, and Y/N ran around the field and into a group hug with her teammates, celebrating her early goal. The first half continued as such, with Y/N scoring 2 more goals. The red blew his whistle signaling halftime, and the players ran into their locker rooms. The Tiger fans slowly made their way to either the bathroom or the concession stand, and Kelly and Clay happened to be right behind Monty and Bryce.

“Dude she’s doing so good,” Monty said.

“I forgot how good she was. But dude for real when are you gonna get with that? ‘Cause if you don’t i might just have too. Those short shorts are doing things to me man,” Bryce said. All of a sudden, Monty grabbed Bryce by the shoulders and shoved him up against the side of the concession building.

“You stay the fuck away from her Walker, you hear me? You go anywhere near her if you so much as think about her, i will not hesitate to beat your ass,” Monty said to him. He was loud, but not so loud that he was yelling. A few surrounding adults separated the boys, and after getting their food, they both made their way back down to their seats, not saying a word. Kelly and Clay looked at each other with wide eyes, hurrying back to their friends to tell them what they had just seen.

“Dude Monty almost started a fight with Bryce over Y/n” Kelly and Clay said in union, before they all burst out laughing. “Wait slow down wait?” Hannah said, wanting to know what happened. “Bryce said something about how hot Y/N looked, and Monty pushed him up against the wall and starting yelling at him about it,”Clay explained. “You guys were right, he really is a hothead,” Kelly said. Just then the ref blew the whistle, and both teams ran out onto the field, heading to their positions once again. The second half started, and Liberty took over once again, immediately running towards the goal and shooting a shot, only for it to be stopped by the goalie.

As the game continued, the opposing team continued to get more and more physical because they were losing. Y/N was dribbling with the ball and was about to shoot, when one of the members of the other teams shoved her over the ball and onto the ground. The ref blew the whistle, gave the girl a yellow card, and signaled for a penalty kick, but not before Monty jumped up and started yelling for at the other team for messing with his girl. Zach and Justin had to pull him down do get him to stop, and he didn’t go down easily. Nonetheless, Y/N slotted the kick into the lower right corner of the net, but the Liberty Tigers up 4-0. Everyone started cheering once again, with shouts of praise coming from the boys.

“That’s our girl!”

“Go Y/N!”

“Beat their asses!”

The game was finishing up, and with 2 minutes left on the clock, the Tigers had the win in the bag. Winning 6-0, the girl you learned was named Jennifer Smith, had scored the other 2 goals. The ref finally blew the whistle, and everyone in the stands started cheering for the victory, and a lot of them started running onto the field, Montgomery de la Cruz right at the front. The 4 friends watched the encounter, as one of her teammates pointed behind her, and Y/N turned to see Monty running to her. She visibly squealed and ran towards him, jumping and wrapping her legs around his waist. He caught her with ease and spun her around. He set her down as the rest of the boys ran to her, engulfing her into more hugs, congratulating her.

Everyone started making their way to the parking lot, trying to get home before work or school the next day. Kelly and Anna headed back to Anna’s car, and they saw Monty waiting outside the girls locker room. Y/N came out and he took her bag, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and walking towards his Jeep.

“How are they not officially dating,” Kelly asked, Anna wondering the same thing.

[pointy-hat-witch]

Title: Touchdown Show: Haikyuu!! Pairing: Iwaizumi/Oikawa Summary: based on the tweet by _lumielle where Iwaizumi and Oikawa meet at a football game for the first time and the kiss camera is a thing A/N: It’s pretty short, I could have done so much more with it b/c it’s so cute!! But student life and work are hitting me hard r/n :’) So, please enjoy!

You can read it on AO3 if you want to! :)

Oikawa wasn’t one for American football, or sports other than volleyball in general. But he, as well, wasn’t one to say no to his friends when they kept on begging him to accompany them to this game and they even bought him the ticket.

So, now Oikawa was sitting in the sun, sweat already forming under his shirt and he watched too many men running after a brown egg and crashing into each other. Oikawa had bought himself some fries and a tonic water to keep himself hydrated in this weather but mainly to have something to do with his hands. He kept on screwing the cap of his bottle on and off and ever so slowly ate his fries.

But looking at his friends Matsukawa and Hanamki made it all worth. They kept on yelling and screaming and literally felt the pain of the players who were going down. Oikawa smiled. Such dorks.

The first break was uneventful, and Oikawa listened to his friends talking about different tactics how their team could win. But it was boring none the less.

It was a way different story when the halftime break was announced, and people got all cheery. Oikawa looked around and when he was about to ask Hanamaki what was this all about, the big screens to each side of the field displayed a huge heart and a camera zoomed in to couples.

Oikawa was astonished by the great cheers whenever a couple kissed, and the animated heart made beating movements. Oikawa wouldn’t tell this to anybody but deep down he was a big sappy goofball and was a fan of these totally non-romantic-but-still-romantic things. Maybe, one day, he will have a partner to be as sappy as he could.

Hanamki dragged him back to reality when he pushed his elbow into his arm.

“Ouch!” Oikawa grumbled and shot a glare at Hanamki who in turn just grinned at him at pointed at the monitors. Matsukawa leaned forward and held his hand in front of his grinning face.

Confused Oikawa’s eyes found the monitors again and looked at his own reflection. That’s how his hair looked like right now? His gaze moved to his left where the other person on the screen was shown and he almost lost it.

His head flew around to the person next to him. How could he not realize this absolute handsome man next to him? And they even sat so close to each other?! No wonder, it was so hot.

Oikawa wanted to say to the person that it was okay if they just waved it aside but in secret, he didn’t want to do that either, so all he could do was stare. The other person found his eyes and his shy smile got Oikawa melted. The person shrugged and gave him an inquiring look.

Oikawa didn’t think about anything at all and just nodded. That’s all that his stupid brain could generate at times.

They didn’t even have to lean that much into each other, or rather his neighbor didn’t have to since Oikawa wasn’t able to do anything, and their lips brushed against each other. Their lips were smooth and warm, and it didn’t even last a second, but Oikawa swore that was the softest kiss any human has ever received.

Oikawa looked stunned at the other person who gave him a cheeky grin and turned away again to their neighbor. Oikawa couldn’t believe that this just happened. He turned to Hanamaki and Matsukawa who suppressed their laughter the best they could and Hanamaki patted his shoulder.

Oikawa buried his face in his hands to comprehend what just happened.

“You okay?”

Oikawa looked up, feeling his face heating up when he looked at his neighbor he just kissed.

“Huh? Oh, uhm, yeah, sure. Are you?”

Oikawa received another heart-melting grin. “I hope it was okay … to … you know … do that and stuff.” They scratched the back of their head, looking a little lost themselves. “I’m Iwaizumi by the way.”

“Yeah, yeah, no worries. It was fine.” Oikawa cleared his throat. Fine? Like hell it was fine. It was the most perfect thing ever happening to him and he couldn’t hold a decent conversation for heaven’s sake.

“And, uh, Oikawa.” He mumbled, and Iwaizumi leaned in a little closer.

“Sorry, what was that?”

Oikawa’s heart made a backflip and leaned over to Iwaizumi that he almost touched his ear with his lips.

“Oikawa. My name is Oikawa Tooru.”

Iwaizumi leaned back and grinned at him. “Nice to meet you.”

The siren announced the third quarter and Oikawa lost the chance to say something else. People ran back to their seats, almost trampling over each other and screaming at each other. That’s another reason he didn’t like to go to open sports events. They are like uncultured pigs already.

The next two quarters flew by way quicker than the first two. Oikawa glanced over to Iwaizumi every couple of seconds and ran imaginative conversations in his head they could have had if he would just say something.

When Oikawa finally built up enough courage to finally say something, the favored team of his friends shot a goal, had a touchdown, threw a three-pointer or whatever they do to get points. The people around him sprang to their feet, yelling and screaming.

Confused and alarmed by the noise, pressed his hands onto his ears. He couldn’t see anything because everyone around him was standing, he couldn’t hear because everyone was yelling and whistling. He felt awful. This was not a place he wanted to be.

Bent forward, Oikawa crawled through the masses and searched for the nearest exit he, fortunately, found rather fast. Inside the air was cool and refreshing and best of all, it was much more silent. Oikawa decided to wait for a couple of minutes for the people to calm down and then head back.

Unfortunately for him, Oikawa didn’t pay attention to the time and after a minute, the siren blared again, indicating the end of the game. Within seconds people came rushing out and running out of the building. Oikawa was pushed against the wall and couldn’t move an inch.

Internally Oikawa damned all these people but most of all he damned himself for not paying attention at all today and running into obstacle after obstacle because of his own mistakes.

After about 10 minutes, the masses finally flattened, so Oikawa at least could move around for a bit and he got a hold of his cell phone. The reception probably would be bad with all these people, therefore, Oikawa texted Hanamaki where to meet up.

The message didn’t get send and Oikawa mumbled curses under his breath. He had to get out of here before he could even attempt to meet up with them. He sighed.

The exits were probably still overflowing with people so that he decided to go to the bathroom in hope it will be clearer when he comes out.

The nearest bathroom had a queue that lasted way beyond the next corner, so Oikawa’s new quest was to find a bathroom he could actually use within 5 minutes or something. He walked around for some time until he reached the bathroom probably farthest away from the exits since they were almost vacant.

“Yes!” Oikawa breathed out and walked inside. He looked into the mirror and made a face when he saw his hair. It was flattened and tousled and made him look like he just sat in the sun for an hour and had to push his way through thousands of people. Hah. Oikawa ran through it with one hand to get them styled more acceptable for the time.

Oikawa turned around and wanted to use one of the bathroom stalls when the door opened and, Oikawa thanked every god he could think of in this moment, Iwaizumi walked into the bathroom.

He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Oikawa. It was awkward, and Oikawa couldn’t believe that his self-proclaimed small talk/sweet talk master ass couldn’t produce any comprehensive sentence.

“Well, uhm, hi.”

Great. That’s a start, Oikawa guessed. Iwaizumi nodded.

“Hi.” He gestured at the stalls. “Uhm, were you going to use them or are they occupied?”

Oikawa turned his head around, suddenly unaware where they were.

“Oh, uhm, no. I just wanted … have some water. Y’know.”

“Alright.” He nodded again and passed Oikawa. Oikawa swore, the bathroom was not really spacious, but Iwaizumi walked even closer than needed. The door got locked and Oikawa threw another glance into the mirror. He looked too awful.

He splashed some water on his face and rubbed off the sweat of his arm and when he dried his hands with the paper towels, Iwaizumi left the stall. He proceeded to go to the sink and wash his hands.

An awkward silence followed.

‘Say something, say something, say. Anything.’ Oikawa repeated in his head like a mantra, but no words left his mouth. When Iwaizumi was done washing their hands, he looked up at Oikawa.

“Well, then, bye. I guess.”

Oikawa’s heart sank into his boots. No, no, no, this is not how it should be. Iwaizumi turned around and was about to leave the bathroom.

“Wai-“, Oikawa made a step forward, finally being able to produce sounds with his mouth again, but failed to notice the wet toilet towels on the ground. He lost his footing, scrambled forward and got a grip at the corner of the sink, which was even more wet, causing him to slide off and with the last stretch of energy he had left, pushed himself around, so would at least land on his back instead with his face down.

But the fall never came. Two hands grabbed him under his arms and held him tight above the ground.

“Woah! Everything okay?”

Oikawa blinked. He pushed his head into his neck to find himself looking upside down at Iwaizumi. His deep brown eyes were fixed on his and what would Oikawa give just to get another kiss from those soft lips.

“Yes,” he said with a raspy voice. He was pushed up until he could stand on his own feet again.

“Uhm, thanks.” Oikawa fumbled at his shirt and pushed his hair back again. He gave up on it. He just had to accept that he had to look like an utter buffoon in front of this gorgeous, muscular, drop-dead handsome person.

“You sure? Looked a little … Did you sprain something?”

Oikawa shook his head. The ground could swallow him right now, please. He covered his eyes with one hand and Iwaizumi instinctively stepped in closer.

“Hey, hey. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Oikawa couldn’t believe he made such a fool out of himself. He held one hand in front of him to keep Iwaizumi at least a few feet away so he can regain his composure. Oikawa took a deep breath and when he finally was able to look up again he knew this was his last shot.

“Phone number.”

Wow. Great.

“Huh?” Iwaizumi blinked a few times.

“Can I have your phone number? Please.” Oikawa cleared his throat feeling the heat creeping onto his face again.

Iwaizumi exhaled.

“Thank god, you asked. I just couldn’t come up with.”

[stevishabitat]

The slogan San Diego Loyal adopted after one of their players was the target of racial abuse by an opponent last week was “I will act, I will speak.”

The USL Championship club coached by Landon Donovan, who is also EVP of Soccer Operations, put that to action Wednesday night by walking off the field at the start of the second half and forfeiting their final regular season match against Phoenix Rising in reaction to an alleged homophobic slur directed at former MLS player Collin Martin, who is openly gay.

“Our guys to their immense credit said we’re not going to stand for this. They were very clear in that moment they were giving up all hopes of making the playoffs even though they were beating one of the best teams in the league handily,” Donovan said in a video released on San Diego Loyal’s social media handles. “But they said it doesn’t matter. There’s things more important in life and we have to stick up for what we believe in.”

Donovan expressed regret for not acting in the moment last week when one of his players was racially abused by Omar Ontiveros of LA Galaxy II. Ontiveros, who was sent off for the 71st-minute incident, was also suspended six matches by USL and Galaxy II mutually agreed to part ways with the defender a few days later.

“We made a vow to ourselves, to our community, to our players, the club, to USL that we would not stand for bigotry, homophobic slurs, things that don’t belong in our game,” Donovan said. “So much so that on our sign boards we made a statement saying ‘I will act, I will speak.’”

Donovan said his club reached out to Phoenix Rising and the players for both sides decided to halt Wednesday’s match in the 71st minute to join together to unfurl a banner that had that slogan.

“We don’t just want to talk about it, we actually want to do it and we wanted to send a message,” Donovan said.

But then came the incident late in the first half, in which Martin, the former Minnesota United player who is openly gay, allegedly received a homophobic slur by a Phoenix Rising player. Martin was red carded, which the match official later rescinded. Martin informed the fourth official on his way off the field.

On the heels of the original incident a week earlier, Donovan said he “lost it.”

“I know what this team has gone through, how hard it was for them to take the field tonight given everything that happened and then for it happen again, a week later, was just devastating for me,” he said.

Donovan said there were some tense moments in halftime discussions for a San Diego Loyal team that was leading 3-1.

“It was a really difficult probably 20 minutes because our players in the heart of the moment, in the passion of the moment, still wanted to play,” he said. "I mean, they were kicking Phoenix’s ass and that’s a great feeling as a soccer player. … But if we want to be true to who we are as a club, we have to speak and we have to act.”

When they returned for the second half, Donovan asked the official to send off the Phoenix player, but he said he couldn’t because he didn’t know what the phrase meant. Donovan then appealed to Phoenix coach Rick Schantz.

“I just said if you don’t pull the player off the field, if you don’t sub him off, our players are not going to play because we have to make a stand,” Donovan said.

When Donovan said Schantz declined, his players decided to act.

“They made the decision to walk off,” Donovan said. “I have tremendous pride in this group and I’m really proud of this organization that I get to be a part of it.”

[dailynewswebsite]

NFL Power Rankings: Behind too-early MVP candidate Josh Allen (seriously), the Bills are dangerous

Josh Allen had 249 yards passing in a half, 417 yards and 4 touchdowns for the sport, and but it was a run that had everybody speaking.

Allen is a giant dude, he likes to run and he’s not enjoyable to sort out within the open area. Close to the tip of the primary half, Allen eluded the go rush, took off operating and met up with Miami Dolphins linebacker Kyle Van Noy within the open area. Van Noy is an excellent participant, and he obtained run over by Allen. Then Allen ran by means of defensive finish Emmanuel Ogbah. That was a spotlight that Payments followers shall be having fun with for a very long time.

Oh, the passing. Let’s not overlook that. Allen was 15 of 22 for 249 yards, two touchdowns and no interceptions … earlier than halftime. After the Dolphins took a 20-17 lead within the fourth quarter, Allen threw two touchdowns together with a reasonably 46-yarder to John Brown to place the sport away. It was precisely the kind of efficiency the Payments needed once they drafted Allen with the seventh decide of the 2018 draft.

When you hadn’t watched the Payments play in Week 1 and simply paid consideration to social media, you won’t have identified Allen is off to an excellent begin this season. Allen regarded good final week in a win over the New York Jets, although a one badly missed go ultimately zone is what went viral. Then Allen was higher within the second sport.

Allen is the form of participant folks will at all times argue about. Since many draft consultants didn’t like Allen earlier than the draft, they’ll refuse to confess a mistake and can give attention to each missed throw he makes. And there are some dangerous performs; Allen nonetheless has some inaccurate throws. He seemingly at all times will. However he has additionally improved annually and is harnessing his bodily presents to grow to be a playmaking quarterback on an excellent Payments staff. It’s loopy to begin speaking about MVP in Week 2, however if you’re having that dialog, it’s a must to embrace Allen in it.

Allen leads the NFL with 729 passing yards. He has six touchdowns and no interceptions. He additionally has 75 yards speeding. Week 2 is manner too early to speak about MVP candidates, but it surely’s additionally honest to say that if Allen performs anyplace close to this stage all season, he’ll be within the combine. Russell Wilson is the plain two-week MVP, if there’s such factor, and Patrick Mahomes, Lamar Jackson and others will seemingly go Allen within the race earlier than the 12 months is over. However Allen doesn’t should be the most effective quarterback within the NFL for the Payments to be good. If he’s even within the high eight or so, Buffalo can compete with anybody. And Allen appears like he could possibly be a minimum of in that vary.

Buffalo goes to be in rivalry for an AFC East championship, making an attempt to interrupt the New England Patriots’ streak of 11 in a row. They’ve a one-game lead after the Patriots got here up simply brief at Seattle on Sunday evening. If what we’ve seen out of Allen the primary two video games is an indication of what he’ll be this season, Buffalo is perhaps considering larger than simply an AFC East title.

Good to know that Adam Gase is uninterested in his staff getting its “ass beat.” He would possibly wish to get used to it. Right here’s what they’ve developing: at Colts, vs. Broncos, vs. Cardinals, at Chargers, vs. Payments, at Chiefs, vs. Patriots. What’s the very best document after that stretch, 2-7?

Christian McCaffrey goes to overlook 4-6 weeks with a excessive ankle sprain and let’s be trustworthy: The Panthers are impossible to have any playoff hopes left when he’s able to return. So there won’t be a lot cause to hurry him again. That makes for a tough first season for brand spanking new coach Matt Rhule.

It’s promising that Washington gave thrilling rookie Antonio Gibson 13 of 22 operating again carries. Groups just like the Jets and Lions shouldn’t be giving carries to 30-something veterans, and a minimum of Washington appears to grasp it’s much more useful to see what Gibson has quite than giving Peyton Barber or J.D. McKissic extra taking part in time.

29. Detroit Lions (0-2, LW: 25)

Up to now 5 quarters the Lions have given up 63 factors. They allowed Aaron Jones to pile up 236 complete yards on Sunday. They get the Cardinals and Saints, a few explosive offenses, subsequent. Right here’s the place you possibly can logically marvel if Matt Patricia’s protection has to indicate some progress for him to maintain his job, however that assumes the Lions possession is paying consideration.

28. New York Giants (0-2, LW: 27)

We’ll discover out rather a lot about Daniel Jones this season. With no Saquon Barkley the remainder of the best way, it’s on Jones to ship. It hasn’t been fairly but in his second season, however he has confronted powerful defenses vs. Pittsburgh and Chicago. The state of affairs isn’t preferrred going ahead however the Giants will learn the way good their quarterback is.

27. Miami Dolphins (0-2, LW: 26)

Mike Gesicki had eight catches for 130 yards and a landing on Sunday. We’ll begin with that as a result of there’s not far more optimistic to say about Miami. If the Dolphins lose to the Jaguars on Thursday evening, and Tua Tagovailoa is wholesome sufficient to play, I’m unsure why you’d give Ryan Fitzpatrick one other begin.

26. Cincinnati Bengals (0-2, LW: 30)

Joe Burrow goes to be actually good. There have been loads of spectacular moments for the rookie, and certainly one of them was that he obtained hit laborious just a few occasions and by no means appeared rattled. It’s actually laborious to consider Burrow gained’t be a top-end quarterback based mostly on what we’ve seen.

25. Jacksonville Jaguars (1-1, LW: 29)

James Robinson, an undrafted rookie who appears superb, is why groups just like the Detroit Lions and Los Angeles Rams shouldn’t have used second-round picks on operating backs. Robinson’s 164 speeding yards ranked seventh within the NFL by means of Sunday’s video games.

24. Denver Broncos (0-2, LW: 23)

Von Miller and Courtland Sutton are carried out for the season. A.J. Bouye, Drew Lock and Phillip Lindsay are on the shelf for some time. The Broncos had such excessive hopes two weeks in the past, and now it looks like their season is completed. The NFL may be merciless.

23. Minnesota Vikings (0-2, LW: 16)

Stefon Diggs is efficacious, however he’s not that beneficial. Kirk Cousins was improbable final season, and with out Diggs this season he was completely terrible in Week 2. Cousins had 113 yards, no touchdowns, three interceptions a 15.9 passer score. The one excellent news is that Cousins began gradual final season and turned it round.

22. Houston Texans (0-2, LW: 17)

Will Fuller wasn’t focused on Sunday, as he was apparently coping with a hamstring damage. It’s pretty exceptional how fragile Fuller is. All of us figured he’d miss time with damage, however he was imagined to final a couple of full sport as Houston’s new No. 1 receiver.

21. Atlanta Falcons (0-2, LW: 18)

The Falcons’ choke was as unbelievable because it will get. ESPN’s win chance put Atlanta at a 99.9 % probability to win at one level. In accordance with ESPN’s Kevin Seifert, solely 10 different occasions up to now 20 seasons has a staff blown a sport during which it had that top of a win chance. Dan Quinn has survived earlier than when it appeared like he was going to be fired, however this actually is perhaps the start of the tip.

20. Philadelphia Eagles (0-2, LW: 14)

In some unspecified time in the future we’ve to ask how good Doug Pederson is. He was nice throughout the Tremendous Bowl season, however in hindsight, perhaps then-Eagles offensive coordinator Frank Reich deserved extra credit score. Since then, the Eagles have underachieved. Had they not backed right into a playoff spot every of the previous two seasons, we’d be far more crucial of Pederson.

19. Cleveland Browns (1-1, LW: 24)

No matter how we must always really feel concerning the Browns signing Kareem Hunt — no person has talked about the video of him shoving and kicking a lady in a very long time, and that lack of true accountability is why some groups don’t thoughts taking up controversial gamers — he and Nick Chubb type a 1-2 duo that no person can match. In the event that they each keep wholesome, the Browns would possibly find yourself with a pair of 1,000-yard rushers.

18. Los Angeles Chargers (1-1, LW: 22)

I’m unsure what to make of Anthony Lynn saying Tyrod Taylor continues to be his starter if he’s 100 %. Perhaps it was simply laying aside answering the query or didn’t wish to be disrespectful to Taylor after he was hospitalized on Sunday. If Lynn was being real and actually plans to begin Taylor, after first-round decide Justin Herbert performed properly vs. the Chiefs, I do not know what to say.

17. Dallas Cowboys (1-1, LW: 12)

Mike McCarthy had one bizarre sport. He has gone overboard on ditching his conservative strategy. He tried a pair of faux punts and a two-point conversion try when the Cowboys have been down 9 factors and doubtless ought to have simply kicked the additional level. Even on the finish, McCarthy’s resolution to take a seat within the ball and accept a 46-yard area objective may have turned out terribly. McCarthy could be very fortunate the Cowboys obtained a miracle win.

16. Indianapolis Colts (1-1, LW: 21)

The Colts are giving up solely 208 yards per sport. Coming into Monday’s video games, no different protection was permitting fewer than 300 yards per sport. The Jaguars and Vikings, the Colts’ two opponents, every put up 30 factors once they weren’t taking part in Indianapolis. Perhaps the Colts have a very good protection.

15. Chicago Bears (2-0, LW: 15)

David Montgomery had his finest sport as a professional, with 127 complete yards and a landing. Montgomery must hold taking part in like that as a result of there’s not a ton else to like concerning the offense. The Bears have two very shut wins, and no staff will flip down 2-0, however they’ll must play higher going ahead.

14. Tampa Bay Buccaneers (1-1, LW: 19)

It’s not simple to take a 12 months off of NFL soccer and play properly instantly. The final time Rob Gronkowski performed like the longer term Corridor of Famer he’s was the 2017 season. He regarded like he misplaced one thing in 2018 (although he completed with a flourish) after which was out all final season. He got here again and has simply two catches for 11 yards, together with no catches in Week 2.

13. Las Vegas Raiders (2-0, LW: 20)

No matter comes subsequent, Monday evening’s win over the Saints within the Las Vegas dwelling opener shall be a win that has a particular place in franchise historical past. And don’t sleep on the Raiders; perhaps what comes subsequent goes to be higher than we anticipated earlier than the season. It is a enjoyable staff.

12. Arizona Cardinals (2-0, LW: 13)

Rookie first-round decide Isaiah Simmons performed simply seven snaps on protection towards Washington and his solely stat was a special-teams sort out. Simmons is a proficient participant and it’s stunning how little he’s taking part in. The Cardinals haven’t wanted him but however they’ll seemingly want some contribution from him earlier than the season is completed.

11. San Francisco 49ers (1-1, LW: 8)

A part of the Tremendous Bowl hangover is that it’s powerful to keep away from dangerous damage luck two years in a row. The 49ers had some accidents final season. They’ve all of the accidents this season. Nick Bosa isn’t coming again, however guys like Jimmy Garoppolo, Richard Sherman, George Kittle and Raheem Mostert ought to return comparatively quickly. The 49ers simply have to carry on till they get some gamers again.

10. New England Patriots (1-1, LW: 9)

Too usually, in lots of issues in life, we choose outcomes and never the method of creating the choice. The Patriots’ finest play is Cam Newton on the objective line. He’s nice in that space of the sphere. The Seahawks made an excellent play and stopped it. It occurs. The decision was simply wonderful.

9. Tennessee Titans (2-0, LW: 10)

Ryan Tannehill’s final 9 regular-season video games: 22 touchdowns, two interceptions, 127.Three passer score. He has had solely two video games with a passer score underneath 100, and the bottom was 92.2. In some unspecified time in the future we’ll have to begin giving him some credit score.

8. New Orleans Saints (1-1, LW: 3)

It’s laborious to lose a participant like Michael Thomas. Taking part in the Raiders of their first sport in Las Vegas was a tricky spot. Nonetheless, it’s regarding they have been fully outplayed after taking a 10-Zero lead. No trigger for panic but and I’m not dropping them too far but, but it surely’s potential the Saints aren’t fairly as dominant as anticipated.

7. Los Angeles Rams (2-0, LW: 11)

Sean McVay did an excellent job self-scouting within the offseason. The Rams’ offensive revival has been on account of many components, together with using quicker tempo, spreading the ball round, much less predictability in personnel groupings and likewise committing to creating late 2019 breakout Tyler Higbee a focus of the offense. There’s a cause McVay is so extremely revered.

6. Inexperienced Bay Packers (2-0, LW: 7)

Aaron Jones’ massive day will result in extra dialogue about what the Packers ought to do together with his contract. In the event that they pay him, it makes taking A.J. Dillon within the second spherical appear to be a waste. And operating again contracts not often work out. In the event that they don’t pay Jones, they’re transferring on from a extremely productive participant and will remorse it, a minimum of within the brief time period. It’s a tricky spot to be in.

5. Pittsburgh Steelers (2-0, LW: 5)

The Steelers most likely ought to have put the Broncos away prior to they did, however they’re nonetheless 2-Zero and must be considerably favored in three of their subsequent 4 video games (vs. Texans, at Titans, vs. Eagles, vs. Browns) earlier than the primary of two improbable matchups towards the Ravens.

4. Seattle Seahawks (2-0, LW: 6)

If Russell Wilson wins an MVP this season, a minimum of a part of the reason being the remainder of the NFL let DK Metcalf fall to late within the second spherical of the 2019 draft. Metcalf obtained the most effective of final season’s NFL defensive participant of the 12 months Stephon Gilmore on Sunday evening. He is perhaps a top-10 receiver already.

3. Buffalo Payments (2-0, LW: 4)

Stefon Diggs put up 153 yards and a landing on Sunday. It’s cheap to suppose they overpaid within the commerce to get Diggs from the Vikings, but it surely was a daring, aggressive transfer for a staff that noticed its window to win a division title (and perhaps extra) opening up. It’s laborious to discover a difference-making receiver like Diggs they usually gained’t come low cost if they’re obtainable.

2. Kansas Metropolis Chiefs (2-0, LW: 2)

The perfect a part of the Chiefs’ comeback win on Sunday is perhaps that it didn’t take any luster off of their Week Three matchup towards …

1. Baltimore Ravens (2-0, LW: 1)

The Chiefs-Ravens sport subsequent Monday evening goes to be a magnificence. No soccer fan ought to miss it.

from Growth News https://growthnews.in/nfl-power-rankings-behind-too-early-mvp-candidate-josh-allen-seriously-the-bills-are-dangerous/ via https://growthnews.in

[fullmoonimagines]

Trust//Isaac Lahey

@pansbaby: could you do one about Isaac where you had been avoiding him because of a fight and you go to his game because Lydia makes you and when they are losing he starts getting frustrated and so during half time you go to calm him down so he doesn't turn and you guys make up?

Y/N POV

“C’mon Lyd, you have to agree he’s being a little ridiculous” I told my fiery-haired best friend. Isaac and I had just had a huge fight over something so small, and I needed to vent. “He does get jealous pretty easily”, she told me “you know how he is”. Yeah, but that doesn’t mean he had to be a jerk about it. “I got paired with Lucas for a class project. We spent time together to work on said project, one that counts for a big chunk of our grade too. I had to make sure I got a good grade, Lucas isn’t exactly what I’d call a “dedicated student”” I replied. I got randomly assigned a partner in class, one that happened to not care about his grades as much as I did, and I sure as hell wasn’t failing because of him.

“I know you’re upset, but couples fight. It happens. Just come to the lacrosse game with me tonight! You’ll have fun I promise” she persuaded. Isaac was on the team, going to the game and seeing him play isn’t really my idea of fun right now. Lydia must’ve noticed the agitated look on my face caused by thinking of him. How could he not trust me? “C’mon Y/N, it’s one of the biggest games of the season, you’ll regret it if you don’t go” she pleaded. Just thinking about the fight Isaac and I had made my stomach turn, but he always did look good in that uniform.. “Fine, I’ll go, but I’m not happy about it” I huffed, the bright haired girl gave a small laugh in response as we walked to our last class of the day.

Lydia and I pulled into the parking lot beside the field, Lydia dressed in burgundy and white while I wore Isaac’s spare jersey. The crisp fall air blew the red and orange colored leaves at our feet as we took our seats on the bleachers. I usually see Isaac before every game, but I guess that wasn’t the only thing different tonight. The game was about to start and my heart was about to beat through my chest. I typically got a little anxious at the lacrosse games, hoping for a win, but tonight didn’t feel the same.  As both teams ran out onto the field, the crowds began to cheer with excitement.

All throughout the first half, the crowd was on edge. This was the team that Beacon Hills High needed to beat to go to the championship, and right now, they weren’t doing so great. Beacon Hills was down by 3 points, and the referees had been making terrible calls all night. Isaac had been playing almost since the game started. Coach had taken him out a few times for being too aggressive, but now he’s livid. I can see this knuckles turn to white and his breathing deepen. Just before Isaac has the chance to maul one of the other team's player, one of the referees blows the whistle for halftime and I run towards the field.

He marches back to the sidelines and throw his helmet to the ground. Scott is beside him, trying to calm him down but it doesn’t work. He keeps pacing back and forth and running his hands through his curls. I make eye contact with Scott, nodding at him to let him know I’ll take it from here but not before receiving a smirk from him as he saw what I was wearing. Isaac notices Scott leaving and turns to see me instead, letting out a big sigh. “If you’re here to fight, it’s not really a great time” he snapped, and turned his back to me. That was it. I can’t take this anymore, and he is not going to wolf-out on all these people, not on my watch. I kick his water bottle off of the team beach and hoist myself up to stand on it. I reached out my hand to Isaac’s shoulder and whip him around to face me, grabbing both sides of his face and pulling it closer to mine. “Listen, whatever we fought about doesn’t matter right now. It doesn’t. I know the game isn’t going how you want it to, but you need to calm down. Take all of your energy and focus it on the game, okay? Use everything inside of you that’s telling you to turn and put it towards the game. Their players may be good, but you’re better” I whispered? to him in the most serious tone I could muster. We stood there for a second, as I looked into his eyes. I could see the anger leaving his body as he took a deep breathe. “Thank you” he whispered, eyes shutting softly. “Now get out there and kick some ass, Lahey. It’s what you’re good at” I laughed.

After returning to my seat, and Lydia shooting a smirk my way, the referee blew the whistle again for the game to continue. My little pep talk with Isaac must’ve really worked because he stepped up his game. Blocking people left and right, and even scoring a few points. After the game ended and Beacon Hill reigned victorious, I waited for Isaac by my car. He walked out of the back door of the locker room still wearing his jersey. “There he is” I say, not being able to hide the proud smile on my face. He walks up to me with a worried look on his face, and I know he’s about to bring up the fight. I sighed and looked down at my shoes, not wanting to talk about it anymore. “I’m sorry” he said, to my surprise, “I shouldn’t have acted like that”. The shock that covered my face turned to a soft smile “I didn’t think you trusted me” I confessed, “and Lucas is definitely not my type” I added, trying to lighten the mood. He tilted my chin up so my eyes were locked with his, “I’ll always trust you”, he said before pulling me into a hug. My heart fluttered, and any worry I had was gone. Our hug broke and he looked at me with curiosity, “what is your type?” he asked with a slight smirk. “You know, I’m always a sucker for a body-checking lacrosse player” I replied with a laugh, “now let’s go home”.

Writer’s Note: Thank you for the request Cat! I hope you love it! Request and ships are still open guys!

[omgahgase]

Bonrin Week Day 4: First

Okay I know this is late, but it took longer than I thought. Since I got such nice comments on my last fanic, I wanted to write another! This one is kinda long, so bear with me. I hope you enjoy!

It’s all Shima’s Fault

Rin has never felt this sort of fear in his life. Not when Satan took over Shiro’s body and tried to kill him or that time during the Impure King incident back in Kyoto. Not even going up against zombies in the Illuminati headquarters scared him as much as this moment. But as he looked up at that the jumbotron displaying himself and Suguro surrounded by hearts with the words “Kiss Cam” right below, Rin’s pretty sure this sort of fear is one feeling he doesn’t like. If you look at things through Rin’s eyes, this whole ordeal was Shima’s fault. Two weeks earlier, Shima asked Rin if he wanted to go to a basketball game in Tokyo. Rin, being the eager little kid he is, jumped at the opportunity since he’s never been to a real game before. Shiro was always a basketball fan, he kinda pushed his love for basketball onto Rin while raising the twins. Neither of them actually played the sport though, Shiro always had missions and the boys to take care of while Rin was just bad at it. But that didn’t stop them from watching games on TV. The Saturday of the game, Rin bounded to his friends dorm, expecting him to be as excited as he was. “Shima!” yelled Rin as he burst through the room door. “C’mon, the game starts at five!” Rin had to duck down to escape the sneaker flying at his head. “Suguro, what the hell?” “Shut your trap Okumura!” Another sneaker flew from his hand. “Shima ain’t feeling well, Koneko took him to the doctors.” “What? Why? He was perfectly fine yesterday.” “The idiot drank some milk that spoiled sometime last month in the cafeteria this morning,” explained Suguro as he threw a pillow from his place on his bed. “How the hell? Not even Shima is that stupid to-” “He was too busy drooling over his new bikini mags.” Rin face palmed. “That pink haired perv!” Rin flopped down on the bed. “What about the game?” A swift kick to the side had Rin flailing off the bed onto the floor. “Here, Shima told me to give this to you.” Two tickets floated down onto Rin’s face. “He said to find someone else to go with.” “Haaah? Are you serious?” “Yes I am. Now get out of my room.” Rin sat bolt up. “But I can’t find anyone this last minute! Who’d want to go to a game that starts in an hour?” “Don’t know. Don’t care. Get out of my room.” “Maybe Shiemi would like to go.” Rin stood and started pacing the room. “But she doesn’t like big crowds.” “Okumura.” “I could ask Yukio-” “Okumura.” “-but he’s already pissed at me for not buying him his damn mineral water.” “Okumura!” “You think Izumo would like-” “For fucks sake, Okumura!” This time the sneaker didn’t miss. “I’ll go with you if it makes you shut up!” Rubbing the back of his head, Rin turned around. “What?” Suguro stood up from his bed and grabbed his jacket. “Jeez, it goes in one ear and out the other.” He made his way to the corner of the room to put his shoes on. “I said I’ll go with you. If it gets you to stop complaining and outta my room, I’ll go.” A smile appeared on Rin’s face. “Thanks Suguro.” “Y-yeah, whatever,” a faint blush tinted the taller boys cheeks. “Move it or else we’re gonna be late.” The two exited the dorms and walked the path to the campus gates. While Rin was telling Suguro about the bentos he made in case they got hungry, they ran into Kuro. “Hey Rin! Where you’re going?” The half demon ran a hand over his familiar’s fur. “We’re going to a basketball game in Tokyo.” “Oh, so you mean like a date!” A deep blush crawled its way up to Rin’s face. “What? N-no, it’s not like that! We’re just going to-” “Rin’s on a date! Rin’s on a date!” “Stop it you damned cat or else I’m not making you anymore tempura!” Suguro watched as his friend and his cat had a very heated argument turned fist fight (paw fight?) once Kuro jumped on Rin’s head and the boy started swinging. He didn’t understand what the cat was saying, but he was pissed. He kept hissing and digging his claws into the shorter boys scalp. After Suguro took out his phone and snapped a picture of Rin getting his ass beat by a cat, he pulled the two apart. “Alright, cut it out. Kuro, whatever this idiot did, I’ll make it up to you by picking up some sushi and milk before we get back. That sound good to you?” The little black familier perked up. He nodded his head and allowed Suguro to pet him before him and Rin walked off campus. Kuro said something to his owner before they were out of earshot, whatever it was made Rin flustered again. “That damn cat! One of these days I’m gonna completely cut his sake line.” “Sure, cut his alcohol supply and make him even more angry. That way, he can beat your ass while full sized.” Suguro laughed as the color drained from Rin’s face. As the two walked to the bus stop, Suguro asked, “What did he say to you to get you so riled up?” The color returned to Rin’s face as a blazing red. “Oh, it was nothing. He just insulted my cooking. He always says my yakitori is a little too burnt.” When the bus came and they boarded, he avoided eye contact the whole ride.

By the time they arrived at the stadium, the game was to start in ten minutes. They gave their tickets to the ushers outside and rushed to find seats. Fortunately, they found some a few rows above court side. During the bus ride, Rin explained who was playing, the players, and their current records. Suguro tried to seem interested, he really did, but he was never a sports kinda guy. Yeah he did play football with Juzo and Kinzo when they needed extra players, but that was about it. But while Rin was talking about the different plays, it made him smile, so Suguro pretended to listen. When the referee blew the whistle and threw the ball in the air, the game finally began. Throughout the first ten minutes nothing really happened. It was the same thing, one player has the ball. The opposing team steals it and so on. It was pretty interesting to watch a bunch of guys run after a ball. But when one team scored the first two points, that smile was back on Rin’s face. Suguro didn’t know why that smile made him feel lighter than air. It wasn’t because he liked that goofy look, or anything. Or the way his eyes would light up whenever an amazing pass was made. Or the fact that whenever Rin got too excited he would latch onto Suguro’s arm, jumping up and down. Nope, none of that. At halftime, they grew hungry so Rin pulled out some sodas and the bentos he made earlier that day. While the two ate, Rin looked at Suguro and couldn’t help but feel…something. Sometimes it’s a light flutter in his stomach, other times it feels like he’s doing twist and turns on a roller coaster. The only time Rin has these feeling is when he’s with Suguro. Rin must’ve been staring too long because Suguro poked him with his chopsticks. “Oi, Okumura, you alright? You look kinda funny. What, you gotta a fever?” The boy leaned over his seat and pressed his forehead against Rin’s. If the poking didn’t snap him out of whatever trance he was in, that definitely did. Rin was frozen in place. His heart was beating a little faster than usual and his hand that didn’t have the bento wouldn’t stop shaking. At one point he even forgot to breath. When Suguro pulled away, Rin had this feeling of losing something that’s supposed to be there. After a few seconds his heart rate returned to normal and he let out a big huff of air. But his hand wouldn’t stop shaking. He closed the bento and returned it to his bag, he tried to hide his shaking but failed miserably. “Okumura, are you cold? You’re shivering like crazy.” Suguro put his finished box back in the backpack, he then proceeded to remove his black hoodie. “Here take my jacket.” Rin nodded and slipped the hoodie on. It was a few sizes too big, so he swam in it, but other than that it gave him a sense of comfort. “Thanks Suguro.” For the second time that day, Suguro blushed because of that blue idiot. “S-shut up. I just don’t want you catching a cold out here. That’ll mean I gotta haul your sorry ass back to campus and get an earful from your brother.” The atmosphere turned awkward after a few minutes of not speaking. Rin was about to say that he was fine when the crowd erupted in cheers and excitement. The two looked above to see the jumbotron blinking red, white, and pink. When the flashing colors stopped, the screen was displaying a young couple on the east side of the stadium. The words “Kiss Cam” bouncing around the screen with hearts popping up. They smiled and turned to each other, dumbstruck looks on their faces. The guy leaned in and pecked his girlfriend on the lips, earning them hoots and hollers. “Wow, this stuff is so cheesy,” said Suguro, as his eyes followed the next victims. “It’s gross when couples do it in public, but now they have to kiss in front of hundreds of people.” “Y-yeah. It’s so dumb.” Rin started to fidget in place, looking anywhere else but at the boy next to him. “I feel sorry for the poor saps who-” “Oi, Okumura?” “Yeah, what’s up?” Rin turned to find a blushing Suguro. “You look like you wanna puke.” “Don’t look now,” He pointed to the jumbotron and Rin’s stomach dropped. “But I think those poor saps are us.” Rin hoped he was lying, he wanted it to be a joke, but nope. There they were, plain as day. A huge heart around their frame with smaller ones moving along the screen. The universe has decided to put the two in the worst situation possible. At this point, Rin started to panic. His face turned as red as Shura’s hair as Suguro looked from him to the screen displaying their blushing faces. His hands clutched his seat and his body felt heavy.

I want to die. I want to bury myself under a rock and die. I didn’t do anything to deserve this sort of punishment! Was it because I forgot Yukio’s mineral water? The crowd started to get anxious, they were chanting “kiss him!” and screaming for the two to get on with it. An elderly woman in the seat below looked at Suguro and yelled, “C’mon young man! Lay one on your boyfriend!” “W-what? He’s not my… We’re just friends!” Rin protested. “C’mon Suguro, tell her we’re-” Rin never got to finish his sentence because a pair of lips crashed against his. At this point in his life, Rin was supposed to have his first kiss by the age of ten. Sadly, him being unsociable never really helped him get any girls. But right now, he’s sorta glad that his first kiss was with his best friend, despite how awkward it is. Suguro’s lips moved Rins, they were slightly chapped and tasted like the orange soda he drank. The two didn’t pay attention to how the crowd exploded into cheers or how they cat called when Suguro placed a hand on Rin’s cheek. They were in their own little world. By the time they pulled away, both boys were breathing hard. Suguro scooted back a bit and cleared his throat. “Sorry ‘bout that.” It took a few seconds for Rin to come back down to Earth. When the world stopped spinning, he took a huge swig of his soda. He tried to stop his heart threatening to burst from his chest, but his heart didn’t want to listen to him. “No, no. It’s fine.” “Really? I acted on impulse. I didn’t the crowd to come after us.” He rubbed the back of his neck, the blush still present on his cheeks. “Really, it was… Nice.” Rin pretended like he didn’t see the spark that lit Suguro’s eyes.

The rest of the game went by in a blur. The two didn’t really pay close attention like they did in the beginning. After the whole Kiss Cam episode, they didn’t say much to each other, the tension was so thick you needed a knife to cut through. But after a few moments in the painful silence, they eased into comfortable conversation. After they exited the stadium and caught the bus, they went to buy Kuro’s sushi. They were walking back from the small store, when Rin, being one to speak before he thinks, blurted out, “You know, that was my first kiss.” Suguro looked at him in bewilderment. “Are you serious?” Rin let out a small chuckle. “Yes, I am. Why do you seemed so surprised?” “Well, to be completely honest, I thought you and Shiemi hooked up.” Now it was Rin’s turn to be shocked. “No you saw it, she shot me down. But I’m pretty sure she has a thing for mole face.” Suguro must be a horrible friend. Only bad friends would feel kinda…happy at this sort of news. He see’s the way Shiemi looks at Yukio, there’s a glint in her eye and a hop in her step whenever she’s around him. She doesn’t look at Rin the way he wants her too. “What about you? You had your first kiss yet?” Rin asked. “Oh yeah, I’ve been kissed before.” “I don’t think your mom counts.” A smile made its way to Suguro’s face. “Shut up!” He lightly shoved the boy, making him stumble. Rin laughed. Suguro felt responsible for making him laugh. He liked his laugh. “It was back in junior high, during my third year. Shima dared me to kiss a girl and I did it.” “Wow,” Rin deadpanned. “How romantic.” The two friends laughed at Rin’s remark. “Well, at least my first kiss wasn’t with a dude.” Rin smiled. That smile made Suguro feel funny. A good kinda funny. “It wasn’t just any dude, it was with you.” Holy shit. It was a good thing it was dark or else the blush on Suguro’s face would’ve made Rin laugh again. He lost count on how many times his cheeks flamed up while out with the shorter boy. It was hard to make Suguro crack a smile let alone blush. But when he’s with Rin, his face just decides to disobey what his brain tells it. The two didn’t notice that they reached Rin’s dorm, until he stopped walking. They both looked up at the building, there was a little pang that shot through Suguro as he walked the half demon to his door. He stood a step below Rin, making the boy a few inches taller. Silence hung in the air along with a gloomy feeling. “Thanks again for coming with me.” It must’ve been his imagination, but with the moonlight shining down on them, a halo appeared above Rin’s head. The son of Satan wearing a halo, the universe must think it’s funny. Suguro stuffed his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “It was nothin’. I had a good time.” “You did? Even though we were forced to kiss in front of a whole stadium of people?” “The bento boxes made up for it.” Rin snorted. “I’m happy you thought so. I’ll make another one for you if you want.” “Yeah, that sounds good. Here,” Suguro held up the plastic bag with Kuro’s food. “Tell Kuro that I couldn’t get him tempura, but I hope tuna will suffice.” Rin took the bag, making their hands brush against each other. “Don’t worry, he’ll eat about anything. Actually scratch that, he’ll eat anything except Shiemi’s grass sandwiches.” “But I ate those.” “Which tells me that your taste buds are broken. You better get ready to eat real food.” Rin’s eyes softened as Suguro laughed, his shoulders shaking with every breath he took. “I’ll be looking forward to it.” Suguro sighed. “I better be going. Shima and Koneko must be back in the dorms. They’re probably wondering where I am.” “Yeah okay. I’ll see on Monday.” Rin dug his keys out of his pocket. “Goodnight, Suguro.” “Goodnight, Okumura.” He turned and descended the steps. Suguro was on the last step when his mouth moved of his own accord. “Hey Okumura?” “Yes?” Rin looked over his shoulder. What the hell am I doing? “Would you like to, um.” Suguro scratched the back of his head, not looking up at Rin. Why am I speaking? I should shut up right about now. “I dunno now, go get some coffee tomorrow?” He glanced up to find Rin with a confused look. “ I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I get that you may need to catch up on work or Yukio might need your help on a mission. I just thought that we could- ” The sound of Rin laughing stopped Suguro from his ramblings. God damnit. You done fucked up boy. The sight of Rin clutching his stomach with tears in his eyes, only angered Suguro. He asked if the guy wanted to get coffee and what he gets in return is Rin laughing at him. The bastard. “Oi! Why’re you laughn’? Listen fuck face, you better shut up or else-” “Suguro I’d love to get coffee with you,” Rin said as he calmed down, he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. That definitely shut him up. “Oh. Um, okay. I’ll meet you at the campus gates. Nine sound good?” That damn smile was back. “Yeah, sounds good.” It seems like that goofy smile of his is contagious because it found its way to Suguro’s face. “Great, I’ll you tomorrow.” “See you then.” Suguro took a few steps towards his dorms when he heard Rin call out. “Oh one more thing!” He turned back round. “‘Fuck Face’? Really? You couldn’t come up with anything better than that?” Suguro snickered. “What? I thought it was pretty good.” Rin rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Goodnight douche bag!” “Sweet dreams bastard!” Suguro headed in the direction of his dorms, the idiots smile still fresh in his mind.

As Rin opened his bedroom door, he expected Yukio to start at yelling him for being out so late, but he only found Kuro curled up on his bed. “Hey Rin, how was your date?” After dropping his backpack by his desk, the boy sat next to his cat, he’s in too good of a mood to put up with his teasing. “It was pretty good actually. We had a good time. Here.” Rin brought out the sushi from its bag. “Suguro brought tuna rolls if that’s okay.” “Yay! I’m starving! Nice jacket by the way.” Rin looked down and realized that he was still wearing Suguro’s hoodie. He completely forgot to return it to him before they departed, his mind was too preoccupied with sight of him blushing while asking him to coffee. Out of curiosity, Rin brought the sleeve up to his nose and sniffed it. It smelled like grass mixed in with the scent of books. It also had a faint hint of sweat and body spray. Overall, it smelled like Suguro. Rin slid out of the jacket and hung it on his desk chair. While Kuro ate, Rin told him the night’s event. Even though the cat was stuffing his face, he was listening to everything Rin told him. When he explained the Kiss Cam, Kuro almost choked on a piece of tuna. “Wait, you did what?” “I kissed Suguro.” By finally saying it out loud, Rin completely lost his shit. “I kissed Suguro.” His hands flew to his head, grabbing fistful of hair. “Suguro kissed me.” He jumped to his feet. “I kissed Suguro!” The boy started pacing the room, mumbling to himself. “Well he is a nice guy,” said Kuro with rice in his mouth. “I approve.” “You approve? What are you my mother?” Rin stopped his pacing to kneel in front of his friend. “No, I’m your familiar.” Kuro cocked his head. “I don’t know how I’d be able to birth you. I’m a boy.” Rin chuckled as he scratched behind Kuro’s ear. “Yes, that’s the reason. It has nothing to deal with you being a cat.” He leaned into the boys’ touch, purring as he laid on his stomach. “So this whole date was all Shima’s fault?” Rin smiled. “Yup, it’s all Shima’s fault. Remind me to thank him later.”