#I was lucky to have gotten the chance to meet her

[impval]

i found love

Victoria Neuman x fem! reader soulmate au

Everyone had different bonds. Some shared pain or emotions. Some even simply had timers, counting down to the moment when they'd first glimpse into the eyes of the person they were meant to be with.

The movements and subtle pulls of the thread, the little tugs and twists, were a constant in her life. She found herself often idly touching the red thread that no one else could see, and wondering where it led to… and who was on the other end, connected to her.

Orphaned at a young age, adopted and learn quickly to survive - it had shaped Victoria. So, she decided that soulmate were just an unnecessary risk. A liability. No soulmate, and no messy emotions or attachments involved. She didn't need one.

No, it was better not to think about it. Better to simply ignore it, ignore the thread that seemed to itch and burn with every passing year. Victoria had always had a plan, a goal, something to work towards. She simply couldn’t afford to have her whole life thrown into chaos simply because there was a chance that her soulmate could somehow... complete her.

Work was the closest thing she had to a lover, to a companion. She'd had fleeting relationships over the years, casual things, but she never let any of them grow into something more.

Victoria didn't really think much of the patterns, at first. Just a curious observation that slowly started to nag on her mind, and which she'd occasionally think about when she got the time to do so. The subtle tugging and pulling throughout the day... there was a distinct rhythm to it that only made sense if the person on the other end were in a similar time zone.

It was just another day.

Wake up, get some coffee, get to work, deal with reports, lunch time if she lucky, reports, meetings, and more reports, and then home. It was a routine she was used to - something that was familiar, something that made at least part of her life predictable.

But it took a few hours, embarrassingly long, for Victoria to realize that something was off. Her soulmate always moved during lunch, sometimes stopping before it started again, as though her soulmate was checking their phone or something...They weren't moving today. Why?

It could very well be that her soulmate had simply forgotten to eat lunch - a trivial and harmless explanation for her uncharacteristically still thread, that lay motionless, red against her arm. Or it could also be something worse. Were they ill? Were they... dead?

No. If the fucking thread was there, obviously her soulmate was alive. Obviously. It stupid to be so worried about a thread, she kept telling herself. But then lunch break passed, then the hour... and then another. The thread still did not move.

Her mood began to sour as the evening drew on. Sitting alone in the safety and secrecy of her home, with glass of whiskey in hand, Victoria let her eyes settle on the thread.

Just... sick, she told herself. Perhaps she was worrying over nothing. Perhaps they'd just come down with a cold or something. There was no reason to worry.

Victoria had her hands full - between dealing with supes, potential terrorist threats, and the occasional meeting with other government officials, the days had been busy and exhausting. Every time she had looked at the thread in the last couple days, the movements had gotten better... but they were still somehow off. It was still concerning, and she still couldn't quite figure out exactly why she was worried.

The incident had happened almost a week ago, the usual supe bullshit...Apparently, some supe had gotten drunk, used his powers to destroy the entire club, and injured several people. The only reason this accident was even in the news was because the supe involved was a relatively well-known hero. Otherwise, these kinds of cases tended to be ignored by the media.

The survivors were now in the hospital and, well, it was good PR, public image was key.

Victoria knew the drill - pay sympathy, try to look as earnest and as concerned as possible. It wasn't even that much of a problem - she did care about the people affected - it was just exhausting, pretending to care more about it than she actually did.

The folder her assistant had handed to her had detailed information. Nothing more than routine - she always prepared for any and all situations. Her gaze lingered for a moment, longer than it had for any of the other names on the list of patients: the last one, your name.

People hurried back and forth, the beeping of machines and the smell of antiseptic pervaded the air. Hospitals had always made Victoria feel uncomfortable.

She walked through the hospital, nodding and making sympathetic noises and reassuring people, reassuring herself that she was doing a good work. Most of the victims had suffered relatively minor injuries - a few broken wrists, concussions, a lost eye... it could have been much, much worse.

The thread was shortening with each person she met, and she'd be lying if she said that she didn't notice - but she pushed it to the back of her mind, tried to focus on what was said instead.

And then...

This was the last stop, the last patient. With blank eyes, Victoria stared down at the red thread, and let out a deep, almost exhausted sigh.

She'd almost made a choice to not even stop by your room. That would be the smart thing to do, the practical thing, the one that would save her from a lot of heartache.

The conversation with her assistant was brief, and in a moment she was alone, standing in front of the door to your room.

Victoria told herself it didn't matter, that it wasn't important. She'd made it this far in life without ever considering finding a soulmate - why worry about them now? But the red thread was pulsating, beckoning her towards.

But there was that other part of her, the part that was curious about what it would be like, the part that was lonely, that wanted to know.

She took a deep breath, and opened the door.

Some swore that the moment they saw their soulmate, the world suddenly made sense - became beautiful. Others claimed that it was no different than meeting anyone else, just... less complicated. For all the research and discussion, no one agreed of what it was like.

The room was quiet, only a low beep from the heart monitor - you were laying in the bed, attached to an IV, a visible scratches and dark bruises across your body.

You looked familiar to her, your face and your eyes - and Victoria recognized you, even though she had never seen you before. Familiar. Warmth and comfort. The feeling of being known... understood, even without knowing this person. She could have gone her entire life without feeling that, and yet here it was anyway.

"Hello," your voice was so soft, so soft that Victoria almost didn't hear it.

Your face, oh my god, so beautiful, had a big smile on it - you weren't smiling with your teeth, as if you were embarrassed for some reason (braces perhaps?). Fuck, how was it possible that you looked cute, even though you were currently in the goddamned hospital?

"Hello," she said, equally quietly, taking a few steps closer.

A week ago, she had been completely sure that a soulmate did not matter to her. And now, the stupid part of her brain was screaming that she wanted to hold your hand, run her fingers gently over your skin...

There was nothing particularly special about your appearance, Victoria admitted to herself, and yet... she couldn't help but look at you - so beautiful, so familiar, so perfect.

Well, Victoria has always been adaptable.

You cleared your throat awkwardly. "I've seen you on TV. Victoria, right?"

She snapped herself out of her thoughts, clearing her own throat and willing (and failing) to clear her mind of all the new, confusing, and unfamiliar (yet welcome) thoughts and feelings.

"Yeah… that's correct," Victoria nodded, trying to get a hold of the swirling thoughts in her mind.

She spoke your name and god, it was beautiful to hear, it was like...

No, focus.

You slowly lifted yourself to sit on the bed, the movement looking like it took a bit of effort and clearly put you in some amount of pain - and she had to suppress the instinctive urge to offer help.

"And here I thought the nurses were joking about a politician coming to the hospital. To be honest, I expected an old white man."

Despite everything, she let out a quiet laugh. It sounded shaky even to her own ears, but she was too focused on watching you to really pay attention to it.

"I always get comments about me being the wrong age and gender for a politician," she replied with a small, easy smile - or at least that was what she tried to portray.

You'd dreamed of this moment. Imagined meeting your soulmate, had probably thought of this moment so many times, over and over. And then it happens, and you meet your damn soulmate — and it turns out to be a fucking politician. To make things even better, one who was famously anti-supe and you were currently in the damn hospital because of a supe attack.

"How... are you feeling?" she asked, her voice softer with the question. "Your injuries, I mean."

There was a sudden feeling of guilt as she looked at you, and she pushed it aside quickly - she could worry about the implications and consequences of her secret identity later when she was alone.

The thread seemed to vibrate as Victoria took another step closer.

You let out a small huff, and shrugged slightly in response, before grimacing in pain. "Like I was hit by a truck," you stated dryly. "But the doctors say I will be fine. And the painkillers helps."

Her eyes darkened at the thought of someone hurting you like this, injuring you so badly that you were in a hospital. Whoever did this was going to face consequences. Not now, of course - she was going to wait.

For now... Victoria took another step forward. Her eyes glanced down at the way you wrapped the thread around your hand, and she almost - almost - reached out to imitate the action herself.

But she didn't - her hands, instead, gripped the metal rail of the bed, her knuckles turning white from the force of the grip. So many questions entered her mind, all at once. She had no idea how long you'd be in hospital, who came to see you, how your recovery process would be going - the list was endless.

"When will you be discharged?"

"Sometime next week, apparently. My injuries are... non-life threatening. Mostly just..." you gestured to the scratches and bruises on your arms and face. "Well. I'm lucky."

You were blushing under her gaze and she noticed, a small part of her preening with satisfaction at the idea that her mere presence was enough to make you blush.

"Do you have family, or someone else who could look after you?"

a pather?

The mere thought that you might be with someone else, with someone other than her, was just wrong. It was just wrong. Victoria had no right to think that way, and she knew it - she'd only just met you, for god’s sake.

But she felt it, she couldn't help it.

Victoria couldn't help but noticed - no flowers, no "get well" balloons, nothing at all that might have indicated visitors.

"No," you shook your head. "My friends are currently in Spain and my family... we don't talk anymore."

Wait.

So who the hell was taking care of you while you were in the hospital? No one? She was your soulmate. You were hers, and it just felt wrong to leave you in your current condition, with no one to take care of you…

Hers. The word echoed through Victoria mind, over and over again, her soulmate, her responsibility, her to protect, to take care of -

"That won't do," She found herself saying before she realized it.

- and Victoria had always held a sense of possessiveness over the things she considered hers. In this case, she would have no compunctions about using her power and influence to guarantee your safety, to make sure you would be looked after.

But you tried to brush it off, of course you did - yet all she could focus on was the fact that no, you weren't going to be alone while you were recovering.

As her hand touched yours, you immediately went silent. The thread wraps around connected hands, and Victoria found herself thinking that the red looked nice on you.

And that's how Victoria was suddenly having a crash course in learning how to be a doting soulmate.

Funny, but she would have never, in a million years assumed she'd be acting so... obsessive over her soulmate, and yet here she was, finding out information that she felt the compulsive need to know.

How were your injuries healing? Had you been prescribed enough painkillers? Were you comfortable? She learned your medical history, for god's sake.

Victoria visited you at every spare moment she had, taking time out of her schedule just to see you. It was pathetic, in a way, how quickly her entire world seemed to revolve around you, the person she'd just met.

She had flowers brought to your room, balloons, even a stupid teddy bear, all while her logical thinking was telling her that this was all just too fast and too much. But the fact that you were alone, without family or friends, drove her to the point of near-aggression, and Victoria wanted to shower you with so much attention you would hardly be able to breathe.

You blushed and stuttered as you told your friends on the phone about all of this. They were surprised, of course, who wouldn't be surprised and a little freaked out, but there was also genuine excitement, and they were happy for you.

You'd always dreamed of having a soulmate, and now you had Victoria. Even her publicity and the fact that she was a politician didn't bother you as much as they probably should.

She was smart, and knew things before you even tried to say them. And once her mind was set on something, she was stubborn as hell, and you soon found that you were completely unable to resist her, especially when she looked at you with those big brown eyes.

You were staying with her when you were discharged. That wasn't up for discussion. She had already had a room cleaned out for you, had set it up to make sure everything was comfortable.

The thought that she'd be looking after you soon wasn't as intimidating as it should have been. Hell, you'd welcomed it.

Once you'd gathered your things from your home, she took you to her apartment, and you weren't surprised. It was definitely the sort of place Victoria would have. All things said that she was incredibly well-off, not shy about how much she spent in any way.

It was funny, the way she was acting right in front of your eyes. The way she doted on you, the way she made sure you were comfortable and happy, that nothing was missing - anything you wanted, she would get it for you.

Unfortunately, the reality was that she needed to work, and that required her to follow a certain schedule.

You adapted quickly, and she began to get used to the routine of having you around, the feeling far more comfortable than she'd expected. You soon learned that she loathed waking up early but did it anyway - and now sometimes you got up with her, even as she protested, cooking breakfast for her while she was in the shower.

Whenever she was at work, at yet another meeting, where she had to deal with the bullshit of idiots and incompetent employees, she would find herself missing you more than she thought she would.

Before, she'd always spent her evenings working, taking her documents home with her and continuing to work when she was in the comfort of her apartment - but now, that routine was changed.

Victoria found herself actually looking forward to coming home, because you were there, always happy to see her.

At first, you slept in the guest bedroom. It didn't take long for that situation to change, though - it was a nightmare that made it necessary. Anxiety and nightmares were hardly surprising - you had been attacked by a supe, after all. Your body recovered fairly well, thankfully, but your mind was another story.

And if that supe that hurt you somehow died in a mysterious, unexplainable accident, it was all just a coincidence.

If she was late coming home from work, claiming that she had suddenly had more important papers to work on, that was just a coincidence as well.

Coincidences happened all the time.

Victoria's bed was soft and comfortable, and it smelled like her. It was probably one of the best decisions she'd made, having you in bed with her. When you had nightmares and woke up sweaty and breathless, she could help you immediately, and she would often wake up to you clinging to her. She'd never admit it to anyone, but she liked seeing that.

You were hers, and even in your sleep, you were subconsciously seeking her out.

Soulmates didn't have to love each other romantically, it was true, and the relationship between soulmates could take a myriad of different forms.

But Victoria wasn't an idiot. She saw the same expression in your eyes, the same look that was most likely mirrored in hers. She wasn't the most romantic person, but some things were not hard to see. This was a romantic soulbond.

A month and then another passed, you were fully recovered now and yet neither of you even bothered to bring up the subject of you moving out. Why would you? You were soulmates, and moving in together was something that would happen anyway at some point - besides, Victoria clearly enjoyed having you there, and you had no objections either.

Not to mention, getting to see her in her suits every day was a pleasure.

Even for a couple that was going a bit fast, you were taking things slow in other aspects. Gentle touches, late-night conversations, the way you talked about the little things, all of it helped you learn each other, figure out habits and personality quirks.

You eventually introduced her to your friends, and Victoria, being the charming woman she was, didn't exactly struggle to win them over. They were quite amused that you moved in with her so quickly, cracking jokes about the lesbian stereotypes that you definitely seemed to be fitting right into.

The most difficult topic was Victoria's career. It was important to her - and unfortunately, that meant that she would have to figure out what she was going to do with you soon.

But you weren't certain whether you wanted people to know about your relationship with her, especially being a public figure and all that came with. And you were also aware that politicians had two options when it came to their soulmates. Politicians either hid their soulmates or they paraded them out like a trophy.

But the main concern on Victoria's mind was your safety.

She had loads of assholes who could be a problem, including those idiotic Hughie's friends, Homelander (she would end him if he dared to even look at you), her adopted father and whoever else decided to add themselves to the metaphorical list.

What you didn't know was that Victoria was protecting you already, using her connections to make sure you had a pair (or sometimes more) of watchful eyes on you when you went somewhere without her.

And while she held you in her arms and watched you sleeping, Victoria decided that it was perhaps time to thin that metaphorical list of threats with a very literal approach.

You had no idea about the violent thoughts that had invaded her mind, and she preferred to keep it that way, for now. To you, Victoria was just your lovely soulmate, who kissed you every morning before work. Someone who wore comfy, stretched-out sweaters around the house and read the newspapers while drinking coffee like a grandma. She was the one who smiled warmly every time you did something nice for her, and she responded by overly spoiling you with expensive gifts.

Part of Victoria felt guilty that she hadn't even considered telling you the truth about her powers. If you found out the truth, would you look at her differently?

Would you see her differently knowing she was a supe too? Knowing that she'd killed more than once? That she would kill again without hesitation, if it meant saving you and her career?

Well, you didn't hate supes, but you were hurt by one of them before, and you were still having nightmares from the goddamn trauma. How would you possibly react when you found out that she was one too?

You were perfect in many ways. You were so considerate and patient, holding her tight while she ranted after a day of dealing with idiots at work, or giving her space when she needed to sort out her own anger.

As the protective one in the relationship, she was well aware that you were also strong in your own way, though not as obvious about it… but would it all be enough?

Victoria shoved those doubts and conflicting thoughts far out of her mind, to be dealt with another time, when she had time to sort through the mess of feelings.

For now, she had a career to build, and a wonderful - if completely oblivious - soulmate at home who she couldn't get enough of.

Coming home after work to find you there, waiting for her, the weekends now filled with you instead of work, laughter in the house and your smile, and...

Victoria would come home after work just to hear your voice and see your smile, feel your touch. Even on the really bad days, when her anger was still bubbling just beneath the surface, even when she was stressed.

This wasn't a life she'd ever thought she would have, but it was one she didn't want to give up for anything in the world.

[shironezuninja]

Emotions were out of whack during the weekend. There was an Empathetic Intuition that I couldn’t place. Today, we all now know why.

I’m still unable to post stuff on Facebook through my new iPad. So I’ll create more collages after I mourn for the next 2 days, to make up for my confused, erratic behavior during last weekend.

[artbiter]

wolf in sheep's clothing

art donaldson/reader nsfw summary: art falls for you first yet patrick gets the fortune of having you. what else is art supposed to do but play dirty? tags: stanford!art, stanford reader too, art is a borderline homewrecker, art donaldson is a SNAKE, patrick gets cucked right under his nose </3, oral, slight body worship, TBH idk note: hi this is my first time writing ff since .. 2021 .. and this is definitely a diff style from the ao3-approach i usually take to writing but please enjoy i really like art donaldson i really like challengers and i really like art taking what he wants (and i really like mike faist in blonde curls)

art donaldson is not a homewrecker, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't waiting for his chance with you.

he first meets you at one of his games, eyes flitting over the crowd and panting hard after a rather close singles win, before his gaze is magnetically drawn to your pretty face in the bleachers. smiling with your friends, you look so happy to just be watching this game, and when you make eye contact with art you wave excitedly like he's a celebrity, and whisper to your friends after he salutes back with a grin, trying to catch the breath your gorgeous smile has knocked out of him.

he wants to find you so bad after, and so he does. your friends are tennis groupies, hanging behind to flirt with any guy with a racket in hand, but you're just there for moral support. he chases after you just before you leave, just to say hi. an innocuous greeting and thanks for your support. and he sees how jealous your friends are that you tag along once with them and immediately get picked up by art freaking donaldson, but you seem to be oblivious, beaming at him and clasping your hands to your chest. you tell him he was great out there, that you've never "gotten" tennis but that you can feel he's a pro anyway. you part ways and he can't stop thinking about you.

when he tells patrick that he's met the prettiest girl he's ever seen at one of his matches, patrick thinks it's endearing and the epitome of dumb puppy love.

"did you even get her name? or were you just drooling over her?"

"nah, that would've been weird... right? oh shit, should i have? i was trying to be normal about it, i don't know." art beats himself up for not even picking up on your name in conversation, and resolves to seek out your identity and ask you out.

so when he finally has the fortune of seeing you again at a party, he's heartbroken when you smile and wave to patrick in tow.

"patrick!" you laugh and bound up to the pair. "didn't take you as a stanford party type of guy."

"i'm a plus one tonight. lucky i ran into you, huh?" patrick is eye-fucking you and doesn't even try to hide it, and art feels like doubling over in pure grief.

patrick notices but says nothing, only introducing you to art. "yeah, i'm here with my buddy art." he slaps art on the back lightly and art finds out that you and patrick met at another party before this. he remembers you from patrick's anecdotes over lunch, where patrick wouldn't shut up about the hottest chick he's ever seen who wouldn't go home with him, but has been texting ever since.

some other girl, presumably one of your friends, attaches herself to art's arm for the rest of the night, but he can't bring himself to notice or care when patrick kisses you and you lean into it.

patrick got to you first, and art hates himself for it. he won't admit it, but he feels the resentment festering inside of him as soon as patrick announces it's official.

the next best course of action for art is to play the best friend role, obviously. except like the unassuming snake art is, he's going to be your best friend, too.

he's your puppy, waiting on your beck and call — whatever you need, he's got it. your bio homework is impossible? sure, you can copy his. you got no sleep last night? he has your regular order from your favorite café committed to memory. patrick's being such a bad boyfriend? oh, tell him all about it.

"he's so inconsiderate," you whine, slumping over your pillow. "can you believe he forgot our six months? and when i brought it up, he didn't even say sorry. he was just, like, 'i didn't know we were still in high school.' i wanted to die, art, really."

art clicks his tongue in sympathy, criss-crossed on your dorm floor and nodding along to your laments. "no, he's definitely wrong here. i'm sorry he forgot something so important." for good measure, he adds in, "guys should be looking out for their girlfriends all the time. i'd be celebrating monthly anniversaries if i had a girl."

"ugh, right? i thought so, too." you flop back onto your bed, turning your head to gaze at art. he thinks you're so beautiful like this, clad in a t-shirt and shorts, bare faced with tears tinging your eyes. "you're a good guy. i don't know why you don't just date."

he doesn't want to date anyone if it isn't you, but he doesn't say this.

art watches you and patrick continue for another few rocky months, marked by arguments spawned from patrick's chronic nonchalance and your sensitivity to his perceived lack of care. and art gets the full report from both sides; patrick tells him all the time about how he's really trying to make you happy and support you, but he doesn't see why you value such small things. and you cry to art, sobbing that patrick never takes you out anymore if it isn't to fuck, that patrick is too friendly to other girls. art thinks to himself that patrick doesn't deserve you, but he rubs small circles on your back and reassures you that you need to do what's right for yourself.

(he's elated when you don't remove yourself from his touch.)

when you finally break it off with patrick, he hears it from his best friend first.

"dude, she dumped me." patrick's voice buzzes over the phone. "not gonna lie, i saw this one coming. but i thought i was doing good, seriously. fuck, what am i gonna do?"

"i'm sorry, man," art sympathizes before he hears a knock on his door. "yeah, it really does suck. take a breather for a few days. i'm sorry, but i really have to go right now." he peeks into the peephole and sees you standing outside. "let's talk more later?"

patrick is still rambling on the other end, but art hangs up and opens the door for you to immediately come spilling.

"art, i broke up with him. i really couldn't do it anymore." you tell art more things he already knows, like that you liked patrick a lot but you were just uncompatible in the end, and that you wished he listened. as always, art feeds into you, agreeing with your every word. something deep inside art tells him it's wrong to coax his best friend's girlfriend into breaking up with him, and that he's messed up for offering you his support when patrick technically should come first. but when you look up at art through wet eyelashes, sniffling and yearning for comfort, who is he to deny you?

art cups your face gently and presses his lips to yours. he doesn't miss how your eyes widen, but you don't jerk away. his heart pounds in his chest as he holds the small of your back with one hand while the other caresses your cheek. you smell so clean and warm, and your lips are so soft art wonders how patrick could ever give you up without a fight. it solidifies art's need for you, that if patrick won't make you happy, he will.

when you pull away from him, you're breathless, voice barely above a whisper. "art, i don't think we should—"

he can't contain himself from kissing your neck, relishing the soft, smooth expanse, inhaling your scent so deep into his lungs he finds it oxygen. "tell me you don't want this." he laps at your jaw, sucking light bruises onto the sides of your throat. "tell me you don't want me to treat you the way you should be, and i'll stop."

you moan his name involuntarily, and art takes it as the green light to carry you to his bed and kisses back up to your lips. "i'm sorry," he murmurs into your skin. "i'm sorry. i want you so bad."

"then show me," you sigh softly, hands rooting themselves into his blonde curls as his tongue probes your mouth.

like you even had to ask.

tugging down your sweatpants and feeling like coming just as the sight of your underwear, art immediately tears it off of you. he latches himself to your cunt, already weeping, and he looks up at you through hooded eyes, pupils blown wide. "already so wet for me, baby?"

"mmf..." your fingers, still tangled in his hair, tighten their grip as you push his head forward, and he obliges.

he licks wide stripes, feeling you convulse and twitch every time his tongue comes in contact with your clit. his dick throbs in his pants just from eating you out.

"you taste so sweet. fuck, you're delicious," he pants, making out with your pussy like it's your lips. "don't know how i survived this long without you."

you buck your hips up into his mouth, mewling and spasming as he suckles and licks at just the right places. your cunt is soaked, but neither of you can tell whether it's from your arousal or how much art is slobbering over your pussy. "right there," you squeak out, a hot wave washing over your body as you cum on art's face.

and fuck, art almosts busts on the spot with you. his mouth doesn't cease, swirling patterns all over your vulva, grazing over your clit, dipping his tongue inside of you as you lock your legs around his head desperately.

"too much, too much!" you feebly try to pull his head up from your cunt, but he's so addicted to your taste he barely notices how sensitive you are now, how your clit twitches and aches for a break.

art can only laugh softly as he pulls himself back up to you, kissing you gently as his hands roam underneath your shirt and to your bra clasp.

"mm, you're so good," you gasp into art's mouth as his kiss becomes sloppier. "so good to me, art."

"it's what you deserve," he mumbles back, unhooking your bra and clumsily pulling your shirt off so your tits spill free. and even art is admired by his own self-restraint, just staring at your perfect body on display for him. he's been dreaming of this day for months now, jerking himself off late at night to thoughts of you sucking his cock, to pictures of you smiling on his phone, to the memory of your voice the day he met you. it's so wrong of him to fuck his best friend's ex fresh after the split, but why do you feel so right beneath him? "i've been waiting for this," he whispers into your neck. "been wanting to show you how much i want you. want to make you feel good. want to treat you so much better."

"fuck me, art, please," you beg him, relenting and palming at his boxers. you're so fucking easy, letting him touch you like this and being compliant as he undresses you, kisses you all over, shrugs his boxers off as you help him position his cock right at your entrance. it's not your fault that art has been nothing but kind and gentle to you. it's not your fault that he's been flirting with you since day 1, and now all his desires have culminated into head of a lifetime. and art finally has what he wants now: you.

and even when he barely pushes the tip in, he wants to cum inside of you so badly he feels dizzy. "so fucking tight, i'm gonna cum, gonna cum right now," he gasps in your ear as he unsheathes himself, stretching your warm, tight hole. "so perfect, holy shit. fucking made for me, baby, you feel so—" he can't stop himself from rutting into you, and he just about comes undone when he hears his name tumble from your lips in pained moans. it takes all the self-control in the world for art to not pour himself into your wet heat right now.

"slow down, art, fuck, you're so big," you sob, clawing at his back. he wishes he could fuck you nice and slow, the way he always envisioned his first time with you would be. he'd fantasized about nights with you full of languid strokes, making you scream his name with calculated, intentional thrusts straight to the spongy patch buried within you. but art is just a humble man, and when your walls, silky and warm, are choking his dick, he can't resist fucking into you like a jackhammer. you cry, moaning uncontrollably as your hands clutch tightly at him, letting his cock ruin you.

art's head goes fuzzy, and all he knows now is your pussy trying to milk him dry and that he can't say anything coherent besides strings of guttural moans telling you how warm, how tight, how good you feel on his dick, how your sweet cunt was made for him, how beautiful you look and sound at his mercy, how he wants you to be his so bad and that he'll do anything for you to be his. that his only regret is not claiming you first.

you keep crooning in his ear, honeyed moans that intoxicate him dizzier and dizzier as you tell him that he can have you. with a few more stutters of his hips, and a convulsing squeeze from your walls onto his cock, his head falls into the crook of your neck as he pulls out and shoots ropes all over your stomach, right as you cry out his name uncontrllably, heaving beneath him. a low, resounding grunt rips from his throat while his seed paints your abdomen, and he feels you shiver upon the warmth touching your skin.

"i'm sorry," he apologizes again like the gentleman he is. his breath still heaves at an uneven rhythm, staggering as he attempts to regain his composure, but every time his eyes fall upon you it feels like he wants to go for round 2. "i'll clean you up, pretty girl. you were so perfect." he presses his forehead to yours, sweaty and damp, and whispers, "you were made for me."

some sick sense of pride fills art from head to toe as your body trembles in an attempt to catch your breath, your hair disheveled and lips puffy, patches of skin blooming pink and red from art essentially making out with every inch of your body. and you blush when you catch him staring, covering your face and murmuring for him to come back to bed.

he did this to you. he made you such a picturesque image of ruined perfection, splayed out on his bed and stained with his cum, pleading for his embrace.

patrick would have to pry you from his cold, dead hands.

[vivwritesfics]

Hello! Soulmate au for either max, lando or oscar? Or anyone you're comfortable with!

How about a soimate au wherein when one loses random items, and it ends up with their soulmate.. this goes on for a while and thats how they find each other!

Thank you so much <3<3

Hcs bc I'm so damn tired lol (why am I also picking lando?)

Yk that necklace lando wears

(I think it's for his sister, but I'm not too sure)

Well, for this, it's his soulmates

Like she went to bed wearing it

And he woke up wearing it

It was kind of terrifying, actually, he thought he was choking

Like with the chain against his neck

Realised he wasn't

Realised there was a necklace around his neck

See, it was weird because he lived alone

Security for his building had seen nothing

Leaving one explanation

She didn't notice when Landos hat turned up in her room

On top of her wardrobe

Literal months

She asked her best friend about it

Asked her boyfriend at the time

He was the one who saw Landos post about his lucky hat disappearing

(Yk he'd caption it something like 'rip lucky hat, thanks for the hard work in Miami')

He didn't put it together right away

Liked the post though, so it appeared on her feed

It just so happened that the lucky hat the f1 driver was missing was the same hat on the top of her wardrobe

She took a chance and messaged him a picture of the hat

Asking if that was the one he was missing

Months later he answered

And he hadn't stopped messaging her since

They must have known who they were to each other

But neither of them were ready to admit it

She was still with that boyfriend

Who lando didn't like

Not in the slightest

Once a day just 'he's bad news'

Even if they weren't soulmates, Lando wasn't going to like him

It definitely wasn't because he knew he could treat her better

They could have sent their stuff back to each other

She could have gotten her necklace back

And he could have gotten his lucky hat

But it was kind of nice

Knowing that one another had their most prized possessions

One day they'd meet

One day they'd give their things back

Or not

[roostersgirlfriendlovesf1]

i'll look after you | charles leclerc

prompt: everyone close to y/n is worried. she doesn't eat or drink enough and those are two extremely important things, especially this weekend. she will be racing in qatar at all time high temps. most worried is her best friend and teammate lando and secret boyfriend charles leclerc

warnings: discussions about not eating/ taking care of self, angst, fluff, cursing, injury, throwing up?, fear, fluff

No one expected Qatar to be so hot. Y/n stepped off of the plane, sweatshirt and sweatpants immediately causing her to sweat. She put her sunglasses on. “Who would’ve thought it would be this hot in the morning?” 

Her teammate Lando Norris responded, “Not me.” He pulled at the front of his black t-shirt. She wiped the sweat off of her forehead before climbing into a car.  “Hey.” He tugged on her sleeve to get her attention.

“Yeah?” She looked away from the window. 

“Are you alright?” He frowned. “You’ve just been off. You seem tired and-” He looked down at her figure, “have you been eating enough and drinking? If it's this hot on Sunday you’re gonna need to be fully nourished.”

“I’ve made the weigh-ins every weekend, so don’t worry, I’ll get us points.” She snapped.

“That's not why I’m worried.” He shook his head. “I want you to be alright.” 

The start of the weekend had been more peaceful than usual. Media had less sexist questions, the car felt good, and y/n had been more open to eating. She kept her head down as she went to her first meeting after FP3. She sat across from her trainer as he slid her a vegetable plate across the table. “Eat.”

“You’re wasting my time.” She glared at him. “I thought this was an actual meeting.”

“It is.” He nodded. “I need you to eat and drink as much as possible these next few days. This race is going to be so hot, you’ll lose a lot of water and a lot of weight. I know how serious you are about your racing and with your lap times these past three practices you have a good chance at qualifying front row.”

She sighed, staring down at an unappetizing plate. 

“Just take it to your driver's room with you and take a cold shower.” He pleaded.

“Okay. I will.” Y/n agreed. As she stood up her phone pinged. 

Charles: Come to my room?

                                                           Y/n: Sure.

She managed to subtly sneak herself into Ferrari hospitality and into Charles’ drivers room. “Hi.” She smiled shyly.

“Hi.” He hugged her before kissing her lightly on the cheek. 

“Lucky, you’ve gotten to shower.” She smelled his freshly washed hair, a comforting smell. She watched him as he glanced at the plate of food in her hand. 

“Let's eat.” He smiled, grabbing the plate from her and placing it on a table, ushering her to sit. 

“I’m not very hungry…” She breathed. “I would really love a shower though.” 

“We’ll shower after I see you eat a bit.” 

She took a bite of celery with hummus. Charles brushed a piece of her hair behind her hair, his movements so faint it tickled. He had convinced her to eat a few more vegetables before she decided it was time to wash herself off. He stood up with her, hand on her waist, ready to guide her to the bathroom. “Is it okay if I shower alone?” She whispered, touching his hand. “I’m just really tired and I need a cold shower and I know how you feel about those.”

Excuses to keep him away. “That’s fine.” He smiled. She smiled back at him, a hint of a sparkle. “Can we talk about something after you get out?”

“What is it?” Her smile flickered.

“M’just worried about you.” He cupped her face in his hands. “This is going to be a tough race.”

“Why are you acting like I can’t do it?” Y/n shook her head, feeling betrayed.

“It’s not that you can’t do it! It’s that you’re not taking care of yourself!”

“Whatever, Charles.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m going to shower and I hope you clear your head while I’m in there.” Y/n washed herself, feeling a relief as the cold droplets of water relieved her hot skin. Her head drooped as she tried not to fall asleep cleaning her face. She slowly pulled on a white blouse with jean shorts, easing them onto her achy limbs. She pulled her hair into a braid, knowing the heat outside would dry it within minutes. Charles had passed out on the couch, y/n tiptoed around looking for her shoes.

“Baby…” He mumbled, slowly waking up, “Where are you going?”

She placed a quick kiss on his lips. “I’ve got to go get some sleep before qualifying tomorrow.” 

He grabbed her waist before she could walk away. “I thought I was bringing you to the hotel.”

“Charles.” She tensed.

“What?” He sat up, offended.

“I’m stressed and the idea of us being seen together makes me even more stressed.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Charles’ brows furrowed.

“I didn’t mean it like that and you know it.” 

“Are you sure about that?” He frowned.

“I have to go. I love you and I’ll text you later.” She walked away, shooing off his insecurities. 

The next day, Y/n had made it to Q3 and was starting in third the next day. She was disappointed she didn’t make the front row, but shrugged it off. Lando had pulled her into a hug before she hit the media pin. “Congrats!” He rubbed a hand on her back.

“Thank you.” She hugged him back. 

“You’re very hot…” He moved his hand to her face. “Here, take the rest of my water.” He forced it into her hand, knowing she didn’t drink water enough throughout the day.

“Thanks.” She accepted it, immediately taking a sip. Lando's eyes widened, surprised at her immediate acceptance. She stood outside the media pin and chugged Lando's water, searching for a cooling feeling. She felt a cold towel brace her neck and groaned at the relief. She turned around to see who had applied it and watched as Charles winked before entering the media chaos, no hard feelings from the night before. She followed shortly after.

After an hour of answering cryptic questions, denying answers about her personal life, and bragging about her grid-place she was able to escape. Charles waited for her to get out of meetings and strolled next to her. “Can I come to your room tonight?” She asked.

“Trying to distract me from the fact you’re starting a place behind me?” He joked.

“Just nervous…” She fiddled with her rings. “And you always help with my nerves.”

“Of course you can come to my room, Y/n.” He affirmed. “Always.” A wave of relief flooded over him when he realized he could monitor her closely. 

Y/n walked down the hall to his room and knocked on the door. It was quickly opened and she was greeted with a kiss on the lips and a glass of water. “It’s freezing in here.” She shivered. 

“Sorry.” He wrapped a hand around her waist. “Y’know who I saw today?” He looked down at her.

“Who?” She held eye contact, his watercolor eyes gleaming. His eyes grounded her onto this earth. 

“I saw Daniel after qualifying.”

“How is he?”

“He thinks he might be given the opportunity to take over De Vries’ position at Alpha Tauri.”

Her eyes widened. “Jeez.”

“Yeah it’s rough.” He shook his head. The couple continued their chit chat as y/n slowly tucked herself into his bed. Charles sat on the other side of the bed, pulling out a carton of strawberries. “Here.” He gestured her to open her mouth and slowly fed her the fruit. 

“God, that's good.” Her eyes fluttered.

“You need to request some for your room next time.” He smiled. Her mouth formed a line as she delved deeper under the covers, turning the lamp on her nightstand off. She kept her eyes closed for a couple of minutes before feeling Charles’ arms wrap around her. She nuzzled her face into the nape of his neck. “I love you.” He mumbled.

“I love you too.” 

Y/n pulled on a Mclaren shirt and a pair of jeans. “Fuck.” Charles cursed. “What is it?” She folded her collar before checking on him.

“It’s going to be over 100 degrees in that car tonight.”

“It’ll be fine.” She shrugged.

“Do you know how hot that is?” His face was deadpan.

“I’ll figure it out.” She joked.

“No. You’ll drink water and you’re going to eat breakfast with me so I know you eat before the race.”

“Calm down.” She folded her sleeping shirt, breathily laughing.

“This isn’t a joke you could seriously get hurt.”

“Okay.” She played along with his seriousness.

Charles had watched her eat breakfast before they got to track and he had to say his goodbyes. They did their pre-race ritual together. She hugged him, racing suit tied at her waist, his tied the same way. “Be mindful today.” He whispered into her ear. “Be safe.” He reaffirmed.

“You too, Charlie.” She kept a hand in his hair. 

“I have to go.” He kissed her quickly. “I love you no matter what.

“I love you.” She tugged at his hand before letting him go. 

Y/n’s engineer came to see her in the car before the race started. “Drink. That's all I ask of you.” He fastened the bottle of water into the car. “If you begin to feel sick at all, radio us. It is going to be up to 120 degrees in that car, we are not going to blame you for any safe moves. We want you to be safe.” He gave her gloved hand a squeeze. She nodded, pulling her visor down.

She had a good start to the race, keeping her starting position. 10 laps in she called in.

“The visor is super foggy, guys. It’s sweaty in here!” She half-joked.

“Try to wipe it when possible.” Someone responded.

After 40 laps she was told to pit. 

“Pit.Pit.”

“Okay.” Her breath was shaky. “Yeah, the hard tyres wore out pretty quickly.” She tried straightening out her breathing patterns. Drink. She tried to will herself, but her body wouldn’t do it. It was too focused on other things.  She had dropped down to fourth place, behind Lance Stroll. “My seat feels like it’s on fire!”

“Do you need to retire?” Zak responded.

“No, just throw some water on me or something!” 

It was lap 56, two laps left and she had caught up to Lance. 

“He’s struggling on these corners.”

“Be careful around him.” Her engineer radioed. “Something must be wrong, he’s acting erratically.”

She was able to overtake him.

Lap 57. Last lap. Last turn. Y/n reached the final straight.

“P3, P3!” People cheered over the comms, but she swore it was muffled. Everything was blurry as she pulled into the space dedicated to 3rd. She noticed her lover's red car in 2nd and Max Verstappens in first. Charles took his helmet and balaclava off, shaking  the hand of Max. The commentator waiting for interviews began to grow concerned when the third driver had still not gotten out of her car. He whispered around and soon enough word got around to the drivers. She reached her hand up to grasp onto the halo, but fell short.

“Y/n.” Charles peered into the car.

“Yes?” She wheezed. “Just-Just give me a minute-to-get out…” She began to grab at the car again. Multiple stewards gathered around her, plus Max and Charles. Charles placed his hands underneath her arms and pulled her up. “I got sick in my helmet.” She coughed. 

“Shhh…” He took off her helmet quickly. A stretcher was brought to her. 

“I don’t want to leave.” She hiccuped. “I have a podium to cele-” She dry-heaved, nothing to throw up, “Celebrate.” 

“I’m so proud of you.” He pleaded with her to get her onto the stretcher. Her face turned ghost-white.

“I’m really scared.” She whimpered. “And-and I feel like I’m going to faint.” Charles placed his hand behind her head as her body went limp, heart breaking while paramedics attending to her vitals. It was a scene for sure. Blue and red lights from an ambulance blocked the screen below the podium, people from Mclaren that were preparing for a podium celebration were now freaking out for their driver, and Charles Leclerc seemed to be the most worried for someone who wasn’t even his teammate. Those who could only see in from the outside watched as he brushed her hair out of her face and kissed her forehead before composing himself. Love. 

“I’m going to come see you as soon as I can get out of here.” He assured her. “I’m sure everyone will.” Throughout the interviews and the celebrations Charles bit his tongue. He noticed the other worn out drivers. Lance had passed out on the corners towards the end of the race, Logan had to retire, Esteban got sick in his helmet, and the rest of the grid was laying on the floor with wet towels and gallons of water. This was just unsafe. He got away from the track as soon as possible, rushing to the hospital. “Y/n.” 

Tears filled her eyes as she saw him enter the room. “Charlie.” She dropped the strawberry in her hands. He rushed to her, quickly but carefully embracing her. The doctor came in, informing him that she was dehydrated and hadn’t had enough protein. She listened as Charles, the entire grid of drivers, and her trainer coached her on how important a meal plan is and how a meal is not something you can forget. That night Lando fell asleep on the couch and Charles held her as tight as he could.

[shojizbae]

Mothers Day

Spencer Reid x Reader

As the newest member of the team, everyone is shocked by your boldness.

Everyone knew not to trespass when Las Vegas or Mental illness was a factor in the case. Everyone but you, apparently. By chance, the team's last case to Vegas was two months before your hire. Now, you were making very dangerous strides around a very delicate subject. The Unsub was suspected to be a man on a psychotic break and had begun devolving before the team had even been called in. Ever the overtly ambitious profiler you wanted to follow Spencer Reid for his ultra-secret contact.

"He prefers to go alone." My eyes met the dark brown hand on my bicep

"We really shouldn't be going places alone. You know the FBI minted the buddy system?" I shook him off

"I know, baby girl, but this is delicate. You just gotta leave it alone."

"Derek, you, of all people, should be aware of my incessant control problems."

"I have to agree with Morgan. This is something you need to let be."

"But you know I can't. Doctor Reid!" I darted off after him. He was tense, like the way people get when they hear a tornado siren and have to put themselves in their basement or put a mattress over their bathtub. He was preparing for disaster. "I truly believe it would be beneficial if I were to go with you."

"Would it be benefitting the case or your psyche?" He prods

"Well, both and neither." I readjust my little rectangular glasses, "As you know, I'm extraneously protective, to a fault. Also, I am working on my doctorate in psychology and I'm writing a dissertation on noncommutative disorder clusters. And I'm comfortable around disorders. Actually, I find it strange that when we talk about OCD, we call it a 'disorder' when people just like things organized in a particular manner." I snort to punctuate my rambling, but he only grits his jaw. "Aw man, that joke usually kills in my schizoid heredity focus group." He sighs as he tugs his satchel on.

"You need to stay quiet and low profile." He orders, and I know my dorky smile splits my face. He leads me to a big black SUV, where I take the driver's seat. He gives me directions, leading me from the way through town street and down some scary back roads. Eventually, we pass a sign that reads Bennington Sanitarium. He tells me to turn left, and we park in the back of the parking lot. He tells me to leave my gun in the car, and I follow him with my head down.

"So, who's this ultra-secret contact you have?" His stress seemed to triple, "Some fancy professor from Caltech?" He's being intentionally nebulous, I'm aware but there's some fun in playing nosy-cop.

"No, it's not someone who worked at Caltech."

"Oh, but a professor? Where'd they work, Burkley? Or maybe some school in Vegas. Let's see, there are not that many high-profile universities in Vegas."

"No, she hasn't worked in years." His voice sharpens in frustration, so I back down, readjusting my glasses, and licking the corner of my lips. We enter and a receptionist recognizes Spencer immediately with a big smile.

"Dr. Reid how lovely to see you. Have you come to visit your mother? She'll be ecstatic. It's been far too long." Oh, like mother like son. She must be a psychiatrist. I smile softly at the notion. It will be so interesting to see who and where Spencer came from.

"Thank you, Sheryl, how has she been."

"Well, she has her day, but mostly, she just reads. You know the book club started a new series." Sherly playfully brushes his arm and giggles.

"That's good."

"She should have just gotten out of therapy." Sheryl smiles and rakes her eyes over the young doctor. Finally, she makes eye contact with me.

"Oh well, you're new," she cheers in a vaguely Midwestern accent. You'll need a visitor's pass, hon." She gets one from a drawer and hands it to me. "So, do you work at the FBI, too, or are you coming to meet the in-laws?"

"I'm an agent," I laugh. If I were lucky enough to snag him, that would be an HR nightmare." Playfully, I pat his chest. He guffaws dryly as I slide the plastic lanyard around my neck.

Spencer leads me through the building, mostly there are elderly people playing chess or using oil pastels as nurses and orderlies orbit them. He leads me through a large living room past an Asian woman knitting. We find a woman with blonde hair biting her nails on the couch as she ponders something.

"Hi, Mom," He warbles. There's an extra beat between his greeting and her response. It's like she snaps out of a trance when she sees her son.

"Spencer, honey, what are you doing here?"

"Me and my frie-"

"Oh my goodness, thank whatever deities you deny the existence of; you're finally giving me some grandchildren."

"No, Mom, this is my coworker Agent (L/n). She and I just have some questions for you regarding our case."

"Well, at least sit down." She pats the space next to her, and Spencer obeys, "You too, young lady."

"Yes, ma'am." I take the only spot right next to him, and Spencer begins rattling off questions while his mom sits there with her hand under her nose. She sits and observes Spencer like no one at the BAU does. When he finishes contextualizing the case with her she stews on every word like his voice is her favorite song.

"So our first question for you is, uh (Y/n), you might be better at asking." He makes the wringing motion of cracking his knuckles, but no sound comes out.

"Um, mostly, the bureau is interested in the capabilities of delusion to overlap reality. When you are having an episode, do you recognize the difference between your actions and your perceptions?" I retrieve a legal pad and a fountain pen and click it theatrically. Diana keeps her hand over her mouth and inhales longingly through her nose. She points at me but doesn't look at me.

"You're a very smart young woman," She locks her eyes on me, "I'll answer your questions if you answer mine."

"Of course, wagers are the drug of choice in Vegas, well that and alcohol and mostly any other drug you can think of." I correct myself

"God, you're so much like him." She looks to her son."Why aren't you dating my Spencer?"

"Uh," is all that dumbly spills from my mouth.

"You two seem perfectly suitable for each other. Is it because he's so skinny?"

"No,"

"Well, he's incredibly handsome and talented; even a pigeon could see he's intelligent beyond a lexicon." She rambles

"Mom, I think that's enough."

"Spencer, you haven't visited me in over a year, and how do you believe that's any way to speak to your mother." She reprimands me. Had the information not shocked me, I would have giggled.

"Spencer, over a year?!" I swat his arm, "You've had time off. Why wouldn't you come to visit?"

"Oh well, I've still gotten my daily letters," she pouts. But it's been too long, and I'm getting old." She begins to bat her eyelashes, and she holds onto his arm.

"I'm trying, Mom," he whined

"To visit or to get me some grandkids?" she sasses

"Mom," He groaned, and I couldn't help the giggle that escaped my lips.

"What about you, young lady? Do you have any kids??"

"No, ma'am."

"Why not?" I could see where Spencer gets his tunnel thinking.

"My career has made it difficult to go out on dates and fall in love," I admitted it was almost like Diana could extract the truth from me

"Well, then, date my Spencer."

"Mom!" he protested

"Shh! It's a win-win: I get grandbabies, you get dates, and neither of your careers gets in the way." I meant to retaliate, but her infallible logic knocked all the fire out of me.

"Let's finish up this interview and solve this case then we can circle back." I mitigated

Two days later, the case was solved, and we were riding the jet back to Virginia. Everyone had filed off the plane but Spencer and I.

"So, do you have any plans tonight?" It threw me further off guard than Diana.

"I was just gonna turn on Real Housewives reruns and cuddle cannoli." It was how I spent most nights.

"Would you object to a date?"

"Tonight?"

"We could watch the Real Housewives and hang out with your cat??"

"You want to do that?"

"It sounds much better than sweating in an overpriced Italian restaurant." He laughs and rings his knuckles

"it does, I think I have NBC, we could watch Star Trek after." I offer as we walk from the landing strip to the BAU. We made a sojourn at his home so he could shower and put on comfortable clothes. Two years later it would be cannoli to ring bear your wedding. Spencer would have to credit his mother who walked you both down the aisle simultaneously for your relationship and the whole team would have to agree.

[liahaslosthermind]

~ 𝐀 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 ~

Mentions of Rhysand x OC (Adelaide), Eventual Azriel x OC Part 1 of Betrayal Summary: She would have chosen him over her mate every time, so why couldn’t he do the same for her?

Warnings: Hurt/No Comfort, Death, Cheating, Betrayal

It hurt.

It hurt so much.

Not physically, she couldn't feel her body anymore, but emotionally.

Encircled by a pool of her own blood, watching the man she had devoted her life to collapse to his knees in front of his mate's body, leaving his lover alone to watch.

Feyre would be okay, Adelaide knew that much, and deep down so did Rhysand. But as the feeling of incoming doom fell upon her, she knew she wouldn't be so lucky.

He didn’t seem to care much for her at that moment though.

It was inevitable that Rhysand would one day have to choose between the girl he had loved for most of his existence or the mate he had just hardly gotten to know, but Adelaide didn’t think it would be so soon, or that Rhys would pick Feyre. They were chosen by The Mother to share a special type of bond, she knew that. She also knew she envied Feyre, she was stronger, had much more of a back bone, and mated to the love of her life.

When he had first mentioned meeting his mate, Adelaide had practically brushed it off. She was so sure she had no reason to worry, over 300 years together couldn't be thrown away by a young, human girl.

The moment Feyre's shoe hit her lover, though, thats when she began to sweat.

Had Adelaide been able to, had blood not started to pool in her mouth, she would have laughed.

While they had known there was no mating bonds between them, Rhysand and Adelaide had vowed to never think twice about their mates. When Adelaide met her mate many years ago, Rhysand hadn't given her the opportunity or chance of choosing between the two. Not even a week after the bond had snapped, her mate was found dead in his bed.

She still knew she would have picked Rhys every time, but apparently the feeling wasn’t mutual. 

So there she was, laying in a puddle of her own blood, watching her long time partner nurture his shaken up, but still perfectly healthy, mate he had told Adelaide not to worry about. 

“Are you alright? What can I do?” He asked Feyre as he caressed her arm, checking her over, and then checking again.

“I’m fine. I just need a moment.” Feyre responded. Rhys was so concerned about her even though she would be walking away with a mere flesh wound and a few sleepless nights at most. Adelaide tried to call out but only the sound she produced was from choking on her own blood. Rhysand didn’t turn around, instead holding his mate closer.

But finally, after an eternity alone on the cold floor, she felt someone grab her hand.

Azriel had crawled over to his best friend the moment he saw she had hit the ground. The faebane in his system from a few nasty slashes making it impossible to do more than that.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. After years of a strong friendship the two could communicate through their eyes alone. He looked concerned and pale. She couldn't tell how hurt he was, her eyes hardly letting her see his blurry face.

He sat up as well as he could, bringing her close to him, and began holding her cheak as he tried to sooth her.

Or maybe he was trying to sooth himself. He was the damned Shadowsinger, the spy master, he had always been annoyingly perceptive. No matter how hard he denied it, he knew she wasn't walking away from this.

Tears streaming down his face as he held in his sobs. Such a strange sight to most, he never let anyone see him cry, except the girl that laid dying in his lap.

“It’s okay Az. I will be okay.” She said ad well as she could with the prominent taste of iron in her mouth. He could almost laugh, even in her last moments she put Azriel first.

“You know thats not true.” He said as he glimpsed up to look at Rhysand, pure hatred in his eyes for what his brother was doing at moment, and for what he was not doing.

Just as he went to call his name,

“Don’t. He is happy, it was bound to happen.”

“Not like this, he wasn’t supposed to pick her. He promised he wouldn’t. I’m sorry.” Azriel couldn't tell whether it was anger or early onset grief that was making him shake in this moment.

Adelaide remembered that. After a fight with Rhysand about being too busy training Feyre to spend time with her, and after running to Azriel in tears, he yelled at Rhysand for his actions, made him promise to stay away from Feyre. The cpnversation was not unlike another the two had had before regarding Feyre's youngest sister and Azriel's intentions. Azriel made him promise to put Adelaide first, always. And Rhys had agreed, but apparently that promise had an expiration date.

“I know, but it's not your fault Az, don’t believe it is.”

“He should be here with you right now. Not me. If I fought him harder on this maybe he would have changed his-”

“Let him live his life with regret that he wasn’t with me in the end. Cause now that I know who he would truly pick, there is no one else I'd rather have next to me than you, Azriel.”

That silenced him.

He watched as she started to slip away, felt helpless as all he could do was hug her tighter.

With one whispered ‘thank you’ she drifted off, embracing whatever death had planned for her.

Her last thought was that she hoped he knew she wasn't just thanking him for that moment, but 400 years of companionship, of heartfelt conversations, of stupid fights, of full fledged loyalty, of love.

A cry broke out as Azriel looked at her now limp body. Concerned, Rhysand took his attention off Feyre, to his brother and what was causing his wails, fearing the worst, that he was hurt.

Dread filled Rhysand, he couldn't handle dealing with another wounded member of his family. But the image of a crying Azriel, a rare sight indeed, holding his lover's lifeless body, stole all the air from his lungs. 

Azriel looked at his High Lord and through his tears spoke with so much pain and hatred in his voice, Rhysand believed that yelling would have been easier to endure. 

“You didn’t even look back. You didn’t even check on her.” Azriel cried out, holding his best friend even closer as Rhysand made his way over on shaky feet. 

Az yelled a broken ‘No’ when his High Lord got too close. He didn’t get this, he didn’t get to hold her after she spent spent her last moments watching him hold another woman. So he didn’t. Azriel, still holding onto her body, disappeared into the shadows before his brother could try anything.

As Rhysand fell to his knees in all consuming grief for who he lost and guilt for not being there, he felt even more shame at the way his body reacted to the warm touch Feyre provided, and at the breath he let out when he was reminded his mate was still alright.

[love-quinn]

— PARTIAL CREDIT

summary — when a new member of the waitstaff starts undermining you, you worry that your job might be in jeapordy. carmen knows you better than you think.

warnings — swearing, i think that's it

pairing — carmen berzatto x fem!waitress reader, semi (?) established relationship

pronouns — she/her

word count — 2.2k

note — i know i fully dropped off the face of the earth but unfortunately i was too busy channeling waitress reader a little too hard, i actually have to leave for work in a few hours but i really wanted to get something out. this 100% isn't inspired by true events or me projecting in any way, anyway i hope you enjoy!! <3

Being the only waitress at a successful restaurant is hard. During the dinner rush, between wiping tables, grabbing drinks and running food, you’ve slowly learned to be more adaptable to the Bear’s new clientele base. That’s not without its struggles, of course. 

Fortunately, Carmy and Natalie seem to understand that it’s a major handful to simply do your job. Which is why Richie thought it appropriate to call you in two hours early to meet the new waiter.   

Liam’s nice from what you’ve gathered. He’s been working with you at the Bear for about two months at this point, most of that has involved you and Richie training him, and he’s been very receptive to your instruction. 

Sure, sometimes he mutters under his breath when a customer asks him for something, but hey, they’re annoying sometimes. And sure, sometimes you find him in the walk-in on his phone, but you’d be lying if you said you were never on your phone at work. He’s had no complaints, and the work is always done to a standard that’s expected (he is still in training, you’re not delusional). 

You’ve worked at the Bear since they were still the Beef, right after Carmen took over. He realised Richie couldn’t keep up with the stuff at the front by himself, so he’d gone with the cheapest option available and thanked god every day that you weren’t awful at your job. You had just graduated from UofC and if you didn’t get a job when you had, you would have been pretty much out of options. You had no work experience outside of being a TA in college (which apparently didn’t have a lot of transferable skills, according to most of your potential bosses). You hadn’t been able to score an insane internship, you didn’t make super stellar grades, you’d been too busy being desperately poor and struggling to keep up.

You’d been really lucky that Carmen had taken a chance on you when he had, and you had been desperate to show him you were aware of that. Liam didn’t seem to have the same sentiment.

He was the same age as you, and he’d actually gone to UofC as well. He’d gotten a pre-med degree but wanted to take some time off before he went for his MD at Rosalind Franklin. 

He picked up on the work fairly easily, remembered when you showed him where the cleaning supplies were, showed him how to work the buttons on the till to ring in orders, and introduced him to all the staff. They were nice to him, nice enough. It took them a while to warm up to him, just like it took them a second to warm up to Carmen, to Sydney, to you. 

But now, several months in, they all got along enough that work was going well. You didn’t have to work six days a week if you didn’t want to now that Liam was there to lighten the load (you did, you made sure Natalie knew that). Now, you could actually take your lunch break without worrying they were being completely overrun. 

On the whole, things seemed to really improve. 

Until, of course, they didn’t. 

You started hearing whispers, soft remarks of “Oh, I did that for her,” to Richie about greeting table seventeen. Small “I wonder why that wasn’t done, I’ll just do it quickly.” 

“Not to be that person, but I noticed that a lot of the straws haven’t been stocked up. I feel like I have to do it every time. I just wonder what she’s doing when she’s back here…”

You do your best to not let it get to you. He’s never worked in the service industry before, he’s probably just doing his best to make sure that his efforts are being noticed. You were almost lucky, in that way, that you were the only real waitress they’d hired. 

It’s an unusually warm day as you slide in through the back entrance to work. You’re your usual twenty minutes early, lucky that there’s enough work to do that Carmen often encourages punctuality (and thus, fairly compensates for it). 

Liam is scheduled today, but he’s leaving after the lunch shift. You get your break while the kitchen does prep-work for dinner, and then you’re coming back for dinner as well. 

Marcus is in his corner, kneading bread dough with a concentrated look on his face. You brush past him with an airy hello that he returns with a half-hearted wave, not looking up from his task. 

Tina is on vegetables, and she stops you for a moment to ask about a shipment arriving. You assure her that you’ll check when you get to the other side of the kitchen, making your way to the front.

The chairs are already all down, table cloths clean and freshly washed. Sydney went down to the laundromat to get them all clean that morning; she’d texted you and asked if you wanted to come but you told her that you really, really didn’t. 

Your first job is a pre-opening sweep, then a restock, then a menu review. You have 87 minutes until service, and Liam should be here in the next fifteen minutes or so. You have just enough time to go and bug Richie into showing you more pictures of Eva’s last birthday party. 

You stick your head into the office just in time to catch the tail end of a sentence that you definitely weren’t meant to hear; “...doesn’t even stack the chairs? What is she doing here?”

Your work anxieties - the idea that every time something goes wrong it was your fault, that one missed drink or late appetiser would have you fired, that every time a customer berated you it was actually your fault - had definitely eased some in the six months you’d been working there. You’d stopped thinking that every time someone was complaining it was about you, but that meant that when they really were talking about you, you knew. 

Liam’s standing there, leaning up against a pile of papers that Carmen is staring roughly at. He looks tired - when doesn’t he? - and like he doesn’t really want to hear whatever it was that Liam was saying. 

“A lot more than you do,” Carmen grumbles. He runs a hand over his face from the bottom up, coming to a rest when it’s gripping onto his curls. 

“I’m always covering her sections,” Liam groans. “The amount of time that Rich’s given me her table’s drinks, it’s insane. We should start pooling our tips.”

Carmen wants to say a lot back to that. That his name is Richie, and calling him Rich doesn’t make him any more like the finance frat bros that Liam is so desperate to associate with. That tip pooling would be insanely unfair to you considering Carmy’s pretty sure Liam’s made less than what you make in a day. That he stacks the chairs because he likes to, and you know that. 

Instead, he settles on “you’re always covering her sections because she’s always covering up for you when you screw up.”

Liam looks like he’s unsure whether or not to go ghostly pale or beet red at the statement. “Wh- has my performance not been up to scratch, sir?”

Carmen stands. “I didn’t really notice it, at first, cause everything was going so well. She’d never tell on you, she knows what it’s like to struggle at a job.” He looks disdainfully down at Liam’s too-new dress shoes. Professional but impractical as a waiter. From what Carmen’s noticed, this is the second pair he’s ruined. “She’d never tell me that your silverware is never rolled, so she’s been staying late and rolling every single one of them. She’d never tell me that your tables are never cleared away. She’d never tell me that you had six meals comped in your first month because you couldn’t be fucked writing shit down.

So yeah, maybe you get her tables a refill when she’s too busy telling one of us one of your guests was coeliac because you forgot to, but that does not give you the right to look down your entitled fucking nose at her.” Carmen gets close, not close enough to the point where it could be uncomfortable, but much closer than he’d ever get to Liam if he could help it. 

“You don’t like picking up her slack? That’s fine, that’s fucking fine, because to be honest, it seems like you’re creating more work for her anyway. You’re done.”

He looks pointedly towards the door to the small office. 

Liam knows exactly what Carmy’s telling him. “Sir, I-”

Carmen raises a finger and points. “You’re fucking done.”

Liam scampers away so quickly he doesn’t even see you eavesdropping. 

Carmy knows, though. He seems to have a sixth sense for when you walk into a room. If you’re not planning on coming in to confront him about firing Liam then he has no intention of bringing it up with you. He sits down, putting his forehead on his fist. “Sir.”

You’re standing right in the door, it’s practically impossible for Carmen not to notice you. But he pretends, allowing you the chance to slip away and act like you hadn’t just witnessed him firing Liam for being slightly mean to you. 

He opens his eyes to see you standing there still. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” your voice is soft. The collar of your shirt is tucked underneath on one side, and Carmen has to resist the urge to reach up and smooth it out. He’s not quite sure why and he doesn’t feel like unpacking it. “He’s still learning, I don’t mind helping him out.”

Carmen doesn’t mince his words. “He’s a dick, don’t defend him.”

He swivels away from his desk and gestures for you to sit. After a second of hesitation, you perch yourself on top of the small surface. You’re not sure who moves first, Carmen to reach up and take your hands or you to reach down to let him. Neither of you have ever spoken about it, like a lot of things. How he always makes sure you get extra food and you make sure Carmen isn’t bothered while he sets up the dining room. 

You hadn’t realised how much Liam had been heightening your anxiety while he was there. “He’s not allowed to do that to you.” Carmy sounds genuinely pissed. “You do fucking everything out there, he’s not allowed to come in and treat you like some sanctimonious fuck. You… you should’ve come to talk to me about it.” He gives in. “You could’ve.”

“I didn’t want to be a problem.” You admit quietly. “You have enough without me.”

Plenty goes unsaid between you and Carmen. You don’t talk when he drives you home in the dark, in the snow. But he’d be naive to believe that the same rules applied to everyone else. The kitchen staff talks, none more than Richie. Carmy is surprised he hadn’t decked that pre-med asshole already. 

“You’re not a problem, honey,” he says gruffly. You stay silent for a moment before realising that’s probably all you’re going to get out of him. 

“I need to go prep dining for service,” you say after a moment, not wanting to speak too loudly. 

Camry’s grip on your hand tightens and for a brief second he feels panic set in. You clearly are feeling okay, so it’s not that he needs to check on you. You’re well ahead of schedule. There’s no reason for Carmen to keep his hand enclosed around yours. And yet he does. And yet you let him.

“Liam was just in here bragging about how dining room prep was already done,” he says after a short while. “You’re well ahead of time.”

“He is,” you point out airily. “I’d never want to take credit for his work.”

Carmen squeezes your hands once, eyes crinkling at the sides. You both know you need to go over everything Liam did in an attempt to make himself look better, not one hundred percent trusting him to have done it properly. There’s 56 minutes until service before Carmen finally lets you go (and only because he has prep he needs to get done).

Plenty goes unsaid between you and Carmen. You don’t say anything when he cracks his office door open for you when you need a breather. You don’t say anything when his station’s been cleaned for him miraculously while you’re waiting for him to finish paperwork.

Luckily for you, the rest of your coworkers seem to understand this time. Nobody mentions Liam or his absence. No one mentions the stars drawn on the band-aid on Carmen’s wrist. And, most surprisingly pleasant, no one mentions how Carmen has started calling you honey more than perhaps your real name.

It makes it even nicer when everyone heads out, leaving you and Carmen alone in the restaurant for the night. They seem to have miraculously developed tact over the last 24 hours, but you’re pretty sure nothing could have stopped Richie from telling everyone about the way that Carmen holds your hand the entire way to your apartment. 

[hxney-lemcn]

Late Night Chaos — Daisuke x gn! reader

summery: things aren't looking too good, so the crew decides to open the cargo hold and find out just what you were delivering.

tw: nothing that isn't in the game.

a/n: Updates might be a bit more spaced apart, but I'm gonna see this to the end. I refuse to give up on it.

wc: 2k

Master List

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine

“I didn’t even wanna do this stupid internship.”

An admission into the night you're sure you weren’t meant to hear. Your insomnia grew worse, unable to get Curly’s painful screams out of your head or the plight you all found yourself. Only two months have passed, and you weren’t sure if anyone was even looking for you. Did Pony Express even have any tracking system to see if ships were down? Would they search when it was already too late? 

Your pessimism was shining through, but you tried to keep it to yourself, not wanting to smother Daisuke’s hope. It seems even he was prone to dark thoughts, but you’d be more concerned if he wasn’t worried at all. 

“If I just told my mom no I could be home right now,” Daisuke continued to mutter to himself. “Who am I kidding, I could never tell my mom no.”

“I wish you did,” you replied, eyes still closed and curled up in a ball.

“Y-you’re awake?” Daisuke gasped, but you made no sign of movement.

“Hmm,” you hummed, pressing your face farther into your pillow. “I wish you weren’t here.” Your words were harsh, causing the brunette to hesitate. You had gotten harsher after the crash, becoming more blunt.

But you had also gotten softer somehow. Sending him mixed signals, your harsh words softened when you gently stroked his cheek, eyes finally opening to meet his own. Anger, fear, sympathy, regret, so many emotions spun in your jewel colored eyes he almost felt dizzy. 

“I wish we met before this,” Daisuke said, voice cracking as he felt pressure form behind his eyes. Shit, he didn’t wanna cry, he had to be strong, for you and the rest of the crew. 

Your fingers brushed under his eye, catching a tear that was threatening to fall. Your silence felt warm, inviting, your gaze broke him, the dam breaking as his wishes spilled past his lips.

“I wish we were back on Earth. Hanging out in my room and this all just ended up being a bad dream. My mom calling us for dinner and everything is okay.” 

He was crying now, fat tears falling down his cheeks as you continued to stroke them. Daisuke wrapped his arms around your form, burying his face in your neck as he let out strangled sobs, not wanting to wake the others.

“I’m sorry,” You murmured into his hair, gently running your nails up and down his back in a soothing manner. “You don’t deserve this, none of us do.” 

…

“We ain’t touching the damn cargo,” Swansea argued. “The hold is locked down for a reason. The only thing worse than dyin’ slowly is not gettin’ paid.”

The whole argument seemed redundant. It seemed that Swansea was the only one against opening the cargo hold. He was a stubborn old fool in your opinion. If your speculation is right, and you won’t be looked for until your ship doesn’t come on time, then you’ll all have died from either starvation or lack of oxygen. Both those options seemed terrible to choose from, but a long, drawn out death was worse than a short painful one. For all you knew, you all were shipping food, or water, or something that could keep you all going just a bit longer. Especially since the cryo chambers were out of commission (not like there were enough for the six of you anyway. Besides, Curly had no chance to survive the freeze due to his wounds). 

“But it could be something useful,” Anya argued back. “I think-”

“Could be what?” Swansea cut her off. “Hopes, dreams and marzipan? Hah!”

“Could be food,” You interjected, glaring at the oldest of the crew. “Protein bars, chips, hell maybe we’re lucky enough to be carrying canned goods.”

“If it helps us survive it’s worth it,” Jimmy added with a nod. 

“Man,” Daisuke spoke up. “Pony Express bosses really aren’t chill at all, huh? C’mon, a quick look won’t hurt.” 

You nodded in agreement before Swansea brought up a good point, “How exactly is this group therapy committee planning on gettin’ in there?”

“Oh, right here boss,” Daisuke pointed to himself with a smug grin. “You’re looking at the meanest swing of the regional junior baseball team! Nearly straight up corked a kid once! I can take the utility ax-” You couldn’t stop the snort that came out of you, hiding your face behind your hands as everyone looked at you with various emotions. 

“You were goddamn born fully corked,” Swansea glowered, face twisted in a harsh sneer. 

“That’s enough, Swansea,” Jimmy intervened. “There has to be an ‘in case of emergency’ way inside.”

“If I remember correctly from reading the safety protocols…” Anya trailed off. “The doors should have an alternate access code, but it can only be uncovered using a code scanner device.”

“And only the captain has access to the scanner,” Jimmy continued. 

“Of course! Go ahead, just ask him all about it then,” Swansea mocked. “Maybe he’ll sing ya the blues too.”

“We can just look for the scanner,” You brought up. “It’s probably either in the captain's quarters or the cockpit.”

“I’ll figure it out,” Jimmy waved you off. “For better or worse, I’m captain now.” You tried your best to hide the offended look that fell on your face, but it was hard to do so when Jimmy rubbed you the wrong way. Sure, it made the most sense for him to be acting captain since he was Curly’s co-pilot, but you didn’t like the way he acted like he had to do everything himself. It was giving you ‘I need to do everything my way and feel better about myself’. 

“Right on!” Daisuke cheered, before you all split your ways. Anya ran off to medical, Swansea stopped Daisuke from following him while Jimmy probably went towards the cockpit. That left you and Daisuke to sit in the rest area, the led screen shone an image of a warm sunset, permanently stuck after the crash. 

“You really think there might be food in the cargo?” Daisuke asked, resting his head against the top of the chair.

“It’s probably wishful thinking,” You grumbled, taking the seat across from him.

“Damn,” He sighed. “I was kinda hopin’ for something other than soup.” 

“You dissing soup?” You asked, raising your eyebrows. “I’ll take your portion too if you don’t want it.” Wait! No!” Daisuke exclaimed with a chuckle. “I take it back, I mean I love love love soup and want to eat it every day!”

“You’re such a dork,” You laughed, gently kicking his foot. 

The door slid open, halting your conversation as Jimmy walked up to you both. He stared at you both intently, and you felt a bit uncomfortable at the irritable stare in his eyes. You slowly realized he always looked that way.

“Looks like it’ll be soup again for dinner,” Daisuke spoke up first. “You wanna rock paper scissors for the chicken noodle?”

“That’s my favorite,” You pouted. Daisuke tended to make you feel more relaxed, no matter the situation.  “Ah, nevermind then,” He sighed. “It’s theirs.” Gosh, he never failed to make you feel warm either, even in your dire circumstances. 

“How much food do we have left?” Jimmy cut in, ignoring your banter altogether. 

“I’d say four months-ish,” Daisuke replied. 

“Hmm, less than the remaining air supply, but we can make it last,” Jimmy muttered to himself holding a hand up to his chin. “In theory. We’ll be poking new holes in our belts to pull that off.” The thought of starving unsettled you, but it was an unfortunate possibility. But then the question is how much air supply is left? That was something you couldn’t conserve…well, unless someone died…but even then it wouldn’t be much.

“Man, my mom will straight up stuff me when I get back,” Daisuke laughed, trying to keep the atmosphere light. “I’ll look like Swansea!” You chuckled bittersweetly, shaking your head amusedly. “We’ll have a rad story to tell,” Daisuke continued, looking between you and Jimmy with a strained smile. “They might even write articles about us. We could be on TV!” Once again there was a pit in your stomach. No matter the outcome, you were sure to appear on TV…

Jimmy also seemed uncomfortable, eyes shifting, and posture ridgid, “Uh, it’ll impress the ladies too.” You nearly broke out laughing at how awkward Jimmy was, coughing into your fist to hide it. Even funnier was it seemed he didn’t realize you and Daisuke were already in a relationship.

Daisuke looked confused, glancing at you briefly before uttering a confused, “Uh…yeah…the real problem is running out of toilet paper. Fatal stuff, man.” This time you couldn’t smother your laughter, hiding your face from the two men before you. 

“Seriously!” Daisuke emphasized, grin turning brighter at your laughter. “We should leave that part out for the press.”

“Totally,” You agreed. “Wouldn’t want the ladies to know.” This time Daisuke snorted, Jimmy nodding uncomfortably before leaving. The two of you cackled for a few more seconds before calming down.

“I thought everyone already knew we were dating,” Daisuke said, confused. “Not like we’ve been hiding it.”

“Just goes to show how much he cares,” You shrugged with a sigh. 

“You think he got the code scanner?” He asked, tilting his head slightly.

“I’d think so,” You nodded. “Wanna head to the cargo hold?”

“Yeah.”

…

Mouthwash. 

You were hauling fucking mouthwash. 

It felt like a tiny bit of your sanity slipped away. You weren’t the only one though, everyone looking at the contents of the box in disbelief. 

“Mouthwash?” Anya asked in a shaky voice.

“Un-fucking-believable,” Swansea cursed. 

“There’s gotta be an ocean of the stuff in here!” Daisuke exclaimed. “The room looks freakin’ endless!” You felt dizzy staring at the rows upon rows of shelves, boxes stacked to the brim on each one. 

“This is what they’d have six people hauling for over a year?” Jimmy scoffed in disbelief. “All of this…for mouthwash?!” You tensed slightly at his shout, but quickly focused on Anya as she spoke up.

“The sugar content probably offsets any potential as a disinfectant…” Anya informed, reading the ingredient content. Great, this was completely and totally useless-

“Disinfectant? What’re you-” Swansea grumbles. “Let me see that!” Snatching the bottle Swansea reads the contents as well. “Fourteen percent ethanol.” Suddenly he bursts out laughing, seeming a bit manic. 

“Haha?” Daisuke gave a confused laugh, clearly not understanding the implications. “I s’pose we’ll smell good at least…?”  “That’s right kiddo! You can bet your ass on that!” Swansea continued to laugh. 

“W-what are you doing?” Anya stuttered, eyes wide in concern. “Stop that!” Instead, Swansea starts to chug the blue liquid, causing your stomach to churn. 

“Whew-whee,” Swansea, sighs. “Ohhh, shut up. I’m just an ol’ codger taking care of his dental hygiene.”

“You hear that?” Swansea continues, glancing at you all. “That’s the sound of fifteen years of sobriety popping like a cyst. A glorious, magnificent, red hot cyst. Good riddance and cheers! To Captain Curly! Hear, hear!”

“Guess anyone could get seriously blasted off of this stuff,” Daisuke mutters loud enough for us all to hear. 

“Yeah, and give you a seriously bad stomach ache,” You grumbled. 

“And kill you in the process,” Jimmy huffed. 

“This can’t be real,” Anya bemoans. “I-There’s no way…”

“Now we can go out in style,” Swansea grins nihilistically. “Daisuke! Come here! Anyone ever teach you how to drink like a man?” 

You felt your stomach drop, one alcoholic was bad enough, you would be damned to let Swansea drag Daisuke down with him. 

“C’mon,” You muttered, grabbing Daisuke’s hand and dragging him past the rest of the crew, head down. 

“Somthin’ wrong?” Daisuke asks once you're both back in the main hull. 

You blinked at him like he was dumb, “Seriously? This whole situation is wrong! And now Swansea’s out of commission if he’s gonna nurse that goddamned mouthwash!” You let out a frustrated sigh, running your hand through your hair. 

“And he’s trying to take you down with him.”

“I won’t drink it if that’s what you’re worried about,” Daisuke mumbles softly, eyes filled with concern. 

You side-eyed him, feeling anxiety claw at your chest, “And how do I know you’ll keep that promise?”

Daisuke opened his mouth, but nothing came out, confirming your fears.

[justwinginglife]

Helooooo!! can I please request Soshiro finally introducing his fiance to his Father and Brother? Or maybe they're already married and have a kid and they went to introduce the child!💕💕

Loud Love

Soshiro hadn’t shut up since you agreed to marry him.

He was always a talker, but your engagement to him sent him into a perpetual state of gleeful frenzy. 

He’d wake up everyday and immediately snuggle closer to you, murmuring how lucky he was over and over again. He’d brush his teeth, mouth filled with foam, and gush about how excited he was to marry you. He’d pick out his outfit for the day then ask you a million times what you thought you’d wear on the wedding day. You responded by telling him it was a secret to which he’d pout but then he’d grin and say “Okay baby, I can wait for you.”

And you were sure your friends and your coworkers were sick of him skipping around, drunk on love, as he told literally anyone and everyone who walked by that you were his fiancee. He talked of nothing else and everyone was done with it but you.

Okonogi, as sweet and as caring as she was, had already scolded the two of you many times, telling you to get a room before she barfed. She had even slapped Hoshina with a rolled up newspaper when he asked her if she’d help you pick out lingerie for the wedding night and then secretly tell him what you’d gotten. She said she absolutely did not want to know what you were going to wear when you got freaky with the Vice Captain. 

Shinonome had always been jealous that Hoshina was so much more verbal of his love than Narumi was, but after hearing him word-vomit for hours on end about how much he was obsessed with you, she was glad Narumi wasn’t a talker. 

Nakanoshima held out the longest- she was used to crazy antics, having usually been the one perpetuating them. But at some point, even she thought that Hoshina was way too down bad for you. “Is it even possible for someone to be that love crazy?? It’s not natural.” 

But you thought he was perfect. You thought it was so cute that when the mail carrier dropped by with packages, Soshiro dragged you over so he could show you off to the guy before he signed off on the packages, exclaiming “Isn’t my fiancee such a beauty??” (of course, when the guy agreed with him, Soshiro then proceeded to protectively pull you closer to him, saying “Yeah, but you can’t have her, she’s mine”). And when the takeout guy delivered your food, when the cab driver came to pick you up, Soshiro did the same exact thing, over and over again. He just couldn’t stop parading you around. He was in love, and this was how he showed it. 

He was so high on happiness, that even when he had to work, when he had to fight, his adoration and devotion continued. He’d walk right up to a Kaiju and say, “Now, the love of my life is going to kill you now, but it’s okay because it’s an honor to be killed by someone so gorgeous. I mean, I’d die by her hands too.” Then you’d bash its core in, giggling like a schoolgirl and he’d admire your handiwork, showering you with compliments about your form and your talent. 

Eventually, Captain Ashiro gave you both a week off of work, just to save the base from the cheesy, flirty banter the two of you so publicly displayed, so frequently. Even she had grown tired of the lovey-dovey routine, happy as she was for you both, and she hoped you’d take this small vacation far, far away from the rest of them. Give them a bit of respite, so that they could still like you when you came back. 

Soshiro took this golden opportunity as a chance to take you back to his hometown. He wanted to show you where he grew up, and to introduce you to his family. He’d even made preparations so his brother, the Captain of the Sixth Division, would be home to meet you. He was beyond excited, even “ecstatic” didn’t begin to cover the extent of his feelings. 

He couldn’t sit still through the train ride. At first, he tried to- he snuggled up to you and rested his head on your shoulder, letting the train shift you back and forth against him. But then he wanted to show you the view as they got closer and closer to his town and he’d run back and forth across both sides of the train car to point out different sights to you. And then eventually he got so giddy he couldn’t sit back down anymore, he would just hum to himself as he paced beside you. You weren’t surprised, you’d been with him in bed, you knew how much energy he had. He was like a little golden retriever and you adored him for it. 

Finally, you arrived at your destination. 

You thought that he would be in a rush to take you to his family, but to your surprise, he wanted to give you the entire tour of his town first. He showed you the tree he had tried and failed to climb when he was younger, breaking his arm when he hit the ground wrong. He had been scared it wouldn’t heal right and he’d never be able to wield a sword properly again. He showed you his favorite places to train, his favorite places to run away to and avoid his family, his favorite places to hangout. You met all his neighbors, you met the owner of a convenience store that Soshiro frequented a lot when he was younger, you even met Soshiro’s barber (and thanked him for making your fiance look adorable every single time). 

With all this socializing, you felt you had to be prepared to meet his family now, you were already in the groove of things. But as you stood at the doors to the Hoshina manor, you felt your nerves seeping in. You remembered how Soshiro would tell you that his father had wanted him to give up on joining the Defense Force because it wasn’t logical. If he didn’t bless this union, if he didn’t see a future for the two of you, would he ask you to give up Soshiro? He’d have to suffer through his disappointment if he did, because you would never give Soshiro up. You were selfish, you couldn’t live without him. And you were greedy enough to hope he couldn’t live without you either. 

So you took him by the hand, hopes and dreams piled high, as you stepped into his childhood home. You could face anything, as long as he was beside you. 

He must’ve felt the uneasiness weighing you down, because he pressed a kiss to your hand, whispering, “It’s alright, I’ve got you.”

His parents are the first to greet you (they explain that Soichiro will be joining later).

They welcome you more warmly than you imagined they would, and it allows you some slight respite from your fears, your breath coming more naturally to you now.

You notice he got his looks from his mom, and presumably his strength and his skill from his dad. As you talk with them more, you discover his skill actually mainly came from sparring with his brother, and his stubbornness was a result of losing those spars with his brother. 

You wish you could’ve seen little Soshiro, sulking after another lost round, demanding for a rematch over and over until his body ached. You’ve only ever known cocky Soshiro, smug Soshiro. Soshiro, who was never unsure that he’d prevail in a fight. Soshiro, who was never afraid to challenge those who were supposedly better than him, butting heads with even the famous Captain of the First Division. Soshiro, who upon first seeing you, immediately began pursuing you with a frightening amount of fervor. Or it would have been frightening if it had been anyone but you; in actuality, you thought his passion and intensity were endearing, or at the very least, intriguing. You couldn’t wait to see what he had up his sleeve next. And he kept entertaining you every single day until that entertainment became fondness and that fondness became love. 

And now, here you were, begging his parents to like you, to accept you, to bless your union. You knew it was usually the man asking the woman’s family for their blessing, but you couldn’t help but feel the need to reassure the Hoshinas that you would take care of him. You would love him all your days. You would treat him the way he deserved, and support him the way that he needed. You wouldn’t just move mountains for him, you’d move solar systems. You needed them to know that, and you needed him to know that.

So, as Soshiro and his parents enjoyed their tea, you thought you’d take advantage of the silence. 

“I love your son.” You blurted out, causing everyone at the table to turn to you. “I love him more than anyone ever has or ever will. I love him so much it hurts, I love him so much that the hurting is blissful. I love him more than I did yesterday and the day before, and tomorrow I’ll love him more than I do today. I love him in this universe and every other one. I love who he was, who he is, and who he will be. I love every version of him, every detail of him, everything that there is to love- I love it all. I love him so much that I came here, with hopes high, even despite my fears, to meet you all. Because I want to know him more. Because I want to love who he loves. And if you could find it in your hearts to allow me the privilege of marrying your son, I’ll love him to the ends of the earth and back and never stop. And if you somehow don’t approve of our marriage, I want you to know that I’ll keep on loving him regardless. I love him so much that I don’t physically know how to stop. And I’d never choose to stop. I’d choose him in a million lifetimes, without a second’s hesitation, without a single doubt in my mind, he’s the one for me. So. Anyway. Please let me marry your son.”

You ramble and you ramble, but suddenly, as you’re nearing the end of your rant, you find your confidence stumbling. You’ve said too much and you’re hoping they’ll still hear you out. You wonder if they stopped listening after the first few sentences. You wonder if Soshiro is embarrassed. You wonder if you’re brave enough to look at him. You’re not. You pick at your fingers and stare into your cup of tea, waiting for someone, for anyone to break the silence. 

“Well, I think that pretty much covers everything. Sounds like you’re a lucky guy, Soshiro.” A voice from behind splits the silence. You all turn to see Soichiro Hoshina sauntering towards you, excited to join in on the conversation. He grins from ear to ear as he slaps Soshiro on the back and ruffles his hair, calling him “little bro,” to which Soshiro responds by shoving him away, grumbling. 

With him here, and having so publicly approved of your little love declaration, his parents seem to relax more. They speak their agreement and your hands finally stop shaking. 

You did it. You got their blessing. And you also earn yourself the most loving gaze Soshiro has ever bestowed on you in the process. He squeezes your hand as he continues beaming at you. The man is practically overflowing with love for you and now it’s evident for everyone else to see. 

His family exchanges fond glances with each other before finally offering up their congratulations and best wishes to you both. 

His adoration gives you the confidence to say what you’ve been thinking for a long time now, and you’re so glad you can finally say it.

“God, I’m so excited to be a Hoshina.”

[reedles05]

The Responsible One

Michael had been odd ever since arriving in Santa Carla. Not a day went by where he acted like he did before the move. Being the oldest sibling meant a lot of things, one of which was taking care of the others when Mom couldn’t. During the entire divorce, you had been there to watch the other two, to make sure they were provided for while Lucy mourned her life moving on. 

And here you were witnessing the downfall of one of your brothers while the other was thriving. Sam had gone and even made friends that were as weird as he was, they had come by and gotten him to hang out while you were home. They were lovely boys, kind and respectful when meeting you. You had waved them off, telling them to be safe and have fun, the streets were dangerous after all. Normally, you would have advised against going out, but Sam needed time away from you. So, you had let him go, but not without something to have on hand in case something were to go awry. You had handed him a pocket knife, not something super dangerous, but something to fend off anyone with ill intent. He had shot you a look, the one where he was insinuating you were being overdramatic, but had taken it when you glared. You were relieved when his friends had awed at you giving him such a weapon, telling him how lucky he was for having you on his side. 

And that had put them in your good books. Sweet kids, Sam was lucky to have them. 

But Michael has been leaving in the night, not returning into early morning. You were worried, admittedly so. You were worried he was hanging around the wrong kinds of people, the kinds that had drugs on hand at any time. Even trying to confront him didn’t do anything, he only grew frustrated at being cornered by both you and Lucy. So, you did what any sane and concerned older sibling would do. 

Follow his ass. 

He wouldn’t get out of this so easily, making Lucy cry was on the list of ‘NO.’ 

And he knew that, so why was he going and doing things that were doing exactly that. 

Dressing yourself to avoid catching his eye, you listened to the tell tale signs of Michael leaving the house. The cracking of the window and the silence that followed. 

So you raced down the stairs and watched as he departed. He was quick, you’d give him that. You chased him all the way down to the Boardwalk. And watched as he met up with four men leaning on their bikes. He conversed with them, laughed and smiled until one of them wrapped an arm around his shoulders. A grimace crossed his face, and so you moved. 

Stepping with purpose, you strutted up to the men and pulled the blonde away from your lovely brother. 

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t get your nasty hands all over my darling brother, Micahel.”

Michael had tensed, eye widening once he recognized who had saved him from David.

He stuttered, trying to push you away before the others had really gotten a chance to take a look at you. But it was too late, and the men leered. Taking in your appearance, the vampires watched as you scowled at them, especially David. He had been the one to put his hands on Michael, and you had watched it as it happened. 

“I’m sorry, doll, but who might you be? I haven’t seen you around here before.”

David leered. And the rest watched as you remained as you were. Hand still in place on Michael’s shoulder, you scoffed. 

“I just told you, I’m Michael’s older sibling. And he was clearly unwanting of your hands being all over him. Fuck. Off.” 

And David laughed. 

Paul leaned in, eyes tracking every minute detail of you that he could.

“Older sibling, huh? Mikey boy never mentioned you, babe.” 

You looked over at Michael, trying to discern the look he was wearing at the moment. 

You nudged him, prompting him to speak.

“Any reason for that? I thought I was worth mentioning to your dearest friends. You do spend more time with them than you do us anymore.”

Michael opened his mouth, but was cut off by another one of the unintroduced men. 

David interrupted him, pressing a finger to his lips to shush him. 

“He was brushing off someone so hot just to hang with us? How cruel of you, Mikey.”

Marko had been the one to speak, pushing off his bike and approaching you. 

He had gone to reach for you, but Michael’s hand intercepted it. 

God, this was going to be an experience. 

–

David opened his arms, gesturing to his band of boys. Motioning to each one as he introduced. 

“This is Paul, Dwayne, and Marko.” 

You nodded, noting their names and pulling along Michael. 

“Great, we’ll be leaving now.” 

The one said to be Dwayne had stopped you, stepping in front of you and ceasing your escape. You looked up through eyelashes at him, a scowl overcoming your face once more. 

“I’m afraid I can’t allow you to leave without knowing your name, lovely.” 

Paul sauntered over, grabbing your arm and pulling you into him. 

“So..?”

“No.”

Michael went to speak but you glared, pointer finger held up to cease his talking. 

“I refuse to give you a name until you explain what’s going on with my brother and you all.” 

David smirked, eyes sharpening. 

“Alright then, we’ll explain everything. Let’s take a ride, boys.”

And that was all they seemed to want to hear, as their laughs started to sound out across the clearing. 

Marko threw out his hands.

“Who do you choose to ride with?”

“Preferably, none.”

But you had to admit, the boys were handsome, and roguishly charming. It was just the fact that they were somehow blackmailing Michael into staying near them. If not, you would gladly spend the night with any of them…or all of them. 

David laughed under his breath, but you saw the gesture. Sucking your teeth, you pointed to Marko. 

“I choose the wild curly blonde then.”

Marko looked shocked, pointing to himself before smiling wide. Cheering, he raced to your side before hauling you up bridal style. Screeching, you held onto his shoulders before slapping his back. He laughed the whole way to his bike, and once you made it, he dropped you on the back. Dropping in front of you, he looked back and smiled. 

“Hold on tight, gorgeous, we’re gonna be going fast.”

And that was all the warning you got before he took off faster than you’ve ever gone before. 

It was…

Thrilling. 

[13uswntimagines]

13 Eras of Us (Taylor Swift x Morgan!R): Era 1 - We Were Both Young When I First Saw You

Request: Taylor Swift x Alex morgan's little sister. They start off as friends and realize that there may be something more.

Chapter synopsis: 1 of 13: The era where everything begins. R and Taylor meet, and become friends. Composed of little moments between them, r and the Team and R and her sister.

Notes: Hey dudes, i'm really really stoked about this series, and i really hope you enjoy it. Let me know what you think.

July, 2015

We were both young when I first saw you

You sighed, gripping the rubber handles of your crutches, leaning more heavily onto the foam padding under your arms despite the ache it caused from the constant chafing. It was an annoying consequence of your injury. 

A secondary effect that the trainers hadn’t told you about when they convinced you that an Achilles tear wasn’t something you could walk off. When they swore up and down that the two other liniments in your ankle were holding on by threads and absolutely could not hold your weight for another 5 weeks. 

You still hadn’t gotten used to them, not that you really had the chance. 

They were a fairly new addition to your wardrobe, made necessary by one bad tackle only 20 minutes into your first game in Canada, effectively ruining your World Cup run (something you were still bummed about despite your team actually winning the World Cup- not that you would call yourself a World Cup Winner). 

You let out another breath, unable to stop the smile on your face as the lights shifted to highlight the woman on stage. 

She was absolutely mesmerizing in her shimmery silver dress, and it was nice to get to watch without the team lingering behind you. It was the only good thing about being injured. 

You didn’t have to go on the stage with them. 

Alas, you were lucky you got to come to the 1989 tour with the team at all. Taylor Swift had only invited the 2015 World Cup winners. 

It was one of the few benefits of being The Alex Morgan’s little sister you supposed. She sent a text and then you had been invited too. 

It strangely made you feel like a 10-year-old chasing after her and her new college friends, going to places where you just didn’t belong. But then again, you felt that way any time you spent more than an hour with your older sister since she left your sobbing form in the driveway as she headed off to Berkley. 

Things hadn’t been the same between you since, and all of her efforts just felt like a weird form of a twisted apology, even now. 

It was like you were her charity case or something, and that didn’t sit right with you. 

Still, you were grateful she had pulled the strings to get you backstage to one of your favorite singer’s shows. God knew you wouldn’t have survived well in the crowd, especially not now that you could barely stand on your own. 

“Pretty spectacular isn’t it?” 

You flinched at the voice, jerking away from the woman standing close enough to your left side to also be able to see the stage, but not too close. Just like she had been all night. 

She reached out a steadying hand as the crutches wobbled dangerously underneath you, an easy smile never leaving her features. 

You swallowed hard, trying to form words to say anything to Taylor’s mom. 

You weren’t big into fandom or social media, but you still knew who she was, and it felt weird meeting her (definitely not because you had a massive crush on her daughter- or the character her daughter pretended to be on stage). 

“She’s amazing,” You finally managed to force the words from your throat, turning back towards the flashing lights on stage and around the stadium.

Andrea hummed. “She is. You’re pretty amazing too,” 

She had heard about your… reputation but all she had seen from you tonight was a shy kid desperately searching for something. Exactly what that something was she couldn’t put her finger, but she suspected it had to do with the way you were watching your older sister interact all night. 

You shrugged, your shoulders collapsing in on you just a bit. “Right now I’m gimpy, and I couldn’t imagine having the control over an audience that she does,” 

Andrea made a low noise, thinking better than to argue with you. She didn’t know you well enough for a debate. 

She didn’t want to interrupt you any more than she had anyway. 

The way you were staring at the stage was a sight to behold, to say the least, your lip trapped between your teeth and your eyes filled with wonder. 

She had seen many fans in her days, but there was just something… different about how you watched the show. The tender adoration in your eyes was beautiful, and it made the mom in her wonder what the future would hold for you and her daughter. 

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as style came to an end and your sister disappeared below the stage. 

You smiled towards Andrea. “I better go before they think I tried to escape,” 

She raised an eyebrow at you. “Is that something you’ve done before?” 

You shrugged again, your grin turning impish.

 “I don’t kiss and tell,” You winked as you started to maneuver yourself back towards where you knew Alex would be coming out, and Andreas' laugh sounded from behind you. 

That had been the point after all hadn't it? 

Still, you were slightly relieved when your sister stepped through the curtain that separated the stage from the backstage area. 

While Andrea and the stage managers had been as welcoming as they could be, you still hadn’t felt like you belonged. You hadn’t been the one invited after all. It also helped that you would be getting out of the noise until Taylor got off stage and was ready for the mini meet and greet the team planned. 

“How did that crowd feel?” You asked as Alex approached you, and the crowd at the front of the stage cheered again, painting an interested smile across your features. 

It felt electric from the audience, so you could only imagine what it felt like being on stage, 

“Really good,” Alex smiled widely, wiggling the trophy in her arms just a bit. “Like World Cup good,” 

“It’s insane how she can control a room like that,”

Alex’s eyebrows furrowed. You felt her slow down beside you and her eyes searched your face. “Don’t even think about it,” 

“What?” You asked, your tongue poking out of your mouth as you focused on keeping up with the team. 

“I know you and I know that look,” She said seriously.  “She’s my age, and you’re not 18 for another 10 days,” 

You shrugged. “So?” 

You hadn’t been planning on hitting on America's top superstar, but you would never miss an opportunity to mess with your older sister. Plus, you didn’t see the harm in flirting. 

It was a fundamental part of your personality after all. 

“Y/n I’m serious,” 

Your lips pulled into a playful smirk, glancing up at her as she held the door to a small room for you. “And I’m committed to not being serious,” 

It was no secret that your… extracurricular activities had picked up since your injury, and you had done little to mask your enjoyment of the league's hookup culture since you joined in lew of going to college. 

What annoyed Alex more was that no one in North Carolina would step up and help her stop you. 

“Y/n,” Alex let out a suffering sigh, catching the crutch before you could hobble away. 

“Look, she’s out of my league, and it’s criminal to not tell a gorgeous woman how gorgeous she is,” 

“Kid’s got a point,” Kelley said, appearing at your other side and sending you a small wink. “Shooting my shot is how I landed you after all,”

“That’s true baby horse,” Cheney said, grabbing a coke off of the large catering table that dominated the room. “It’s also how Toby got Chris,” 

“How did we get roped into this?” Tobin groaned, her slightly red-rimmed eyes going wide, popping a grape in her mouth. 

Kelley snorted. “You got roped into this because you asked Chris out after you beat her in the college cup, while she was still on the field,” 

“You fucking proposed to Alex after your team beat her in a shootout,” Christen snickered, shaking her head. “You literally have no room to talk,” 

You chucked at Kelley’s blush, barely noticing the new body that had entered the room and was leaning up against the doorframe next to you. 

“Sounds like the field is a very active place for you guys,” The voice said, and you snapped your head to meet the most gorgeous blue eyes you had ever seen in your entire life. “Though your timing seems… questionable,” 

“Tay!” 

“That was an amazing show,”

“Dude, that crowd is nuts. It’s like they’re eating out of the palm of your hand,” 

Taylor smiled widely at the team, her eyes glimmering in the dressing room light. “Well thank you, it was an absolute pleasure to get to share the stage with you all tonight,” 

She pushed off of the wall, and your eyes followed her like she was a magnet. She looked so… graceful even in a pair of sweats.

“The pleasure was all ours,” Cheney grinned back at her. “it was a blast, thank you again for inviting us,”

“Anything to bring more visibility to what you guys do,” Taylor nodded, looking over the catering table and picking sparkling water from the selection. “It’s empowering to young girls everywhere,” 

You were drawn to her hands as they flexed around the bottle. To her lips as she timed her sips so she could continue her conversation with Cheney. She was so elegant. 

Even in your sexcapades, you had never been so… taken with someone. 

“This is my younger sister, Y/n,” You blinked away from Taylor and towards Alex, and back, feeling taken slightly off guard. You hadn’t realized you zoned out. 

The blonde singer nodded towards you, waving the bottle. “Hey. I’m Taylor,” 

“I’m Y/n,” Your lips quirked up, and you stuck your hand out for her to take, bringing it to your lips when she did. “And I’m your wildest dream,” 

“Very smooth,” Taylor chuckled, pulling her hand back, and you could have sworn she had a little bit of pink dusting her cheeks. 

“Smoother than a fresh jar of skippy,” You winked back, earning an ever louder giggle from the singer. 

The room erupted into laughter, and you sent a proud smirk toward your sister. 

She shook her head. “Don’t encourage her. She’s been practicing all week for this,” 

“Well I can’t practice soccer, so what did you expect?” You shrugged as much as you could over the crutches. “I need to use my talents for something,”

“I think it was amazing,” Taylor cut in, grinning. 

“See!” 

Alex rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. She had obviously been outvoted. It would be a fun story to tell your future significant other anyway. 

“It’s very nice to meet you Y/n,” Taylor said, sobering. “I was happy you could make it, even if you weren’t on the squad,” 

“It’s nice to meet you too,” You nodded, your dimples on full display. “Thanks for the invite,” 

“No way I would exclude one of my favorite players,” She hummed. “I was so sad when you got hurt,”

You felt heat in your cheeks, traveling up to your ears. Taylor knew who you were. She liked to watch you play. 

You swallowed hard. “I should be up and playing again within the next couple of months,”

Your PT promised you that as long as you followed the plan, you’d be back and playing by the end of the season. With the way Paul was pushing you, you knew you’d probably be back sooner. 

“Well, if you’re ever in New York let me know,” She said, pulling out her phone and opening the texting app before passing it to you. “I’d love to see a game,” 

You took the offered item, quickly typing in your number. “Yeah, I’m sure I can get you and the squad good seats,” 

She sent you one last smile before she turned back towards the team. “I’ve gotta go, but it was nice to see you all again,” 

You stared at her, as she waved and left, not actually believing what had just happened. 

Your bad pickup line had gotten you The Taylor Swift’s number, and she wanted to see a game. 

*****

September, 2015

We play dumb, but we know exactly what we’re doing

You never expect Taylor to actually text you. Hell, you weren’t convinced that the phone she let you text yourself from wasn’t a business phone. 

But as it turned out, Taylor did text you. 

First, it was a simple text asking about your recovery because a commentator had mentioned it. Then the conversation between the two of you just didn’t stop. 

And you realized very quickly that you never wanted it to stop. 

You found that Taylor was up at all of the weird hours you were and that no matter what she was doing, she was never too busy to say hello. Then texting turned into hanging out when you were in New York, Florida, or California, and before you knew it, it was a regular occurrence. 

“I fucking suck at this,” You groaned, letting go of the guitar strings and flopping onto your back. “And my fingers hurt now. I’m pretty sure they’re bleeding,” 

You held them up in the air pretending to examine them for the little flecks of red you were sure you would find there. 

“No, you just haven’t practiced enough to build calluses,” Taylor said, and you could hear the eye roll in her voice. 

“I got enough of them on my feet thank you,” You muttered, looking up at her through your eyelashes and wiggling your fingers at her.  “I don’t need guitar string scars on my hands too,” 

She caught your hand, smoothing it over her palm. “Don’t be overdramatic,” 

“Me!” You exclaimed indignantly, holding your hand to your chest in mock offense. 

“Yes,”  Taylor smirked. “This isn’t soccer where you can flop about,” 

You frowned. “I don’t flop,” 

She raised an eyebrow at you, and you pouted. “Fine. I don’t flop often, and not unless it’s necessary,” 

“Whatever you say,” She chuckled, shaking her head. “Sit up and I’ll help you,” 

You pouted but did as she asked, pushing yourself back to sit, crossing your legs so you could hold the guitar like she had shown you the first time you did this. 

Her lips ticked up at you, and she scooted so your knees were touching. 

“Alright so g,” She said, positioning her fingers on the string, waiting for you to copy her. 

You tried, moving each finger to the strings. “Like this?”

“Not quite,” She said, leaning forward and moving your pinky. “That one goes on the low e,” 

You nodded, trying not to blush at how close she was to you. So close that you could smell her coconut shampoo. 

“Now, strum slowly,” She said, leaning back and demonstrating. 

You did your best to copy her, slowly drawing the pick across each of the strings, but instead of making the beautiful chord she was, it made an off-key wamp. 

“I’m hopeless,” You said dramatically dropping your pick and flopping back on her fluffy carpet. “Worse than the whole Tom Sermanni debacle,” 

She sighed and took the guitar off, maneuvering so she was sitting next to you. “I didn’t know you were so easily discouraged. I thought with all the sports, you’d have some resiliency,” 

“I’m good at soccer,” You shrugged.  “My fingers aren’t long enough or sting enough for guitar,” 

“Were you good at soccer to begin with?” Taylor asked you softly. 

You scrunched your nose. The truth was that you had been playing soccer too long to remember when you started. It was always a part of your life. 

“No,” You said finally, biting your lip. “Alex absolutely destroyed me any time we practiced. She even stepped on my neck one time with her rain cleats and gave me a scar,” 

You pointed to the small dimple just below your chin. Sure it had been an accident, but it ultimately was the reason you were a midfielder instead of a forward. 

When you were young, Alex had always been better than you. More competitive, more ruthless, and she didn’t go easy on you in practice. It’s what made you such a good player. 

“But you still play?” Taylor pressed, and your eyes were drawn to how her lips formed a thin line. 

“Not as a forward,” You admitted easily.  “Mom got tired of all of the bickering,” 

Once you switched positions, you and Alex could work together instead of going head to head. It made you a lethal pair and let you both show off your talents. 

It also saved your mother’s sanity. 

“That’s not the point,” Taylor chuckled. “If you can change positions, you can play a chord on a guitar. You just need patience,”

“I wasn’t born with that,” You smirked. 

She rolled her eyes. “Try for me?” 

“Fine,” You sighed, pushing yourself to a sitting position yet again. 

It was kinda scary how easily she could bed you to her will. All she had to do was ask. 

“Put your fingers in position,” She said, leaning forward and checking to make sure they were on the right strings. “And then play each one individually,” 

You grabbed the pick from the floor beside you and very slowly brought it across the strings. All of the strings sounded right except for the pinky. 

“Press down a little harder,” She said, her tongue caught between her teeth as she reached over to help you. “And try again,” 

You did as she asked, and this time, the G chord sounded through her apartment. 

“Great job!” She cheered, and you felt heat rushing to your cheeks. 

“Thanks,” You cleared your throat and looked away.  “Couldn't have done it without you, literally, but um… can we be done with me playing? I think my fingers are going to fall off,” 

You turned towards her, not realizing how close you were, and nearly brushed her nose with yours. You pulled back, trying not to look at her lips, or her burning blue eyes, focusing on a very small freckle on her forehead because it felt like the safest option. 

The two of you hated a lingering breath, and the air between you felt electric. You would have sworn that her eyes flickered to your lips, just as her tongue poked out to wet her own. 

But she couldn’t be into you. 

She was America’s favorite pop star, she was a fully-fledged adult while you were still basically a kid, and most importantly, she was straight. 

“Yeah, we can do something else,” She hummed, reaching for the guitar and carefully pulling it over your head. 

“Can you play something for me?” You asked, scooping Meredith up and settling her in your lap when she nudged against your leg. 

For a cat that didn’t like being picked up and cuddled, she was very attached to you, except when you were playing the guitar. 

“Sure,” She nodded, grabbing her guitar and plucking out some chords. “Any requests?” 

You shook your head, smiling down at the cat as she kneaded her feet into your thighs and finally plopped down with a short purr. “Whatever you want,” 

“Now that’s no fun,” Her lips turned up, and her head ticked to the side and she reached over to scratch the cat's head. “Come on, what’s your dream surprise song?”

Your shoulders lifted and fell, and more red bled into your cheeks. “Um… I don’t suppose you have the 10-minute version of All Too Well available?”

She chuckled and shook her head, a playful smile pulling at her lips. “Unfortunately, it was a rant that I don’t currently have memorized,” 

“Hey, you asked for the dream song,” You held your hands up in defense, unable to stop yourself from laughing with her. “I think a lot of fans would agree to have that on their list,” 

She shrugged, half in agreement and half in amusement. “I just think it’s funny that it came from a line I said in an interview almost 4 years ago,” 

“Honestly, I think if a demo version of it did exist, it would have been leaked already. Some of your sleuthy fans are obsessed,” You said, your dimples popping out. “I couldn’t not ask for it,” 

She snorted “Trust me, I know. It was a good shot, and if it did exist, I’d totally play it for you. I trust you not to be secretly recording,” 

You hummed, trying not to think too hard about how she trusted you. How she would have played one of her most secret and tightly kept songs for you “But alas it does not,” 

“No, not in a playable form,” She shook her head, her blue eyes shining. “Pick a new one,”

You bit your lip, rolling through the list of songs in your head. “What about State of Grace,”

The piano version had always been one of your favorites, and you so often got the intro stuck in your head. 

“We can do that,” She smiled widely at you and began picking out the chords. “Only if you promise to sing along?”

Your nose scrunched. “You don’t want me to sing, I sound like a dying walrus, just ask Alex,” 

You knew Alex would agree, even if it wasn’t entirely true. You didn’t do music anymore. 

“Hum then,” She conceded, and you nodded. 

You could hum- just not in tune, but you didn’t have to be in tune with Taylor. 

You just had to be yourself, and you had never experienced that with anyone else. 

******

December 2015

Barefoot in the kitchen

Sacred new beginnings 

That became my religion, listen

You eyed the oven warily from across the island, leaning into the cool stone countertop as Taylor flitted around you, pulling out various ingredients. 

It wasn’t that you were afraid of the oven, it was just that you were not known for being a good cook. Actually, you were known for being a very not good cook. 

You were banned from making anything in any of your sister's kitchens, and you rarely ventured to make more than Dino nuggets (which you still burned) on your own. 

As long as you didn’t touch the controls, everything should be fine. 

“You alright?” Taylor asked, setting a stick of butter on the counter next to you, her hand landing gently on your forearm. “You’re staring at the stove,” 

“Yeah,” You blinked away from the copper appliance and towards Taylor, painting an easy smile across your lips. “I’ve just never made cookies before,”

She frowned. “Never ever?” 

You shook your head, biting your lip. You didn’t want to tell her that any time your sisters had tried, it ended in charcoal (and an oven fire… twice) instead of ooey, gooey deliciousness.

“We were more of sports people than baking people,” You explained with an easy shrug. “Plus after a hard game, the precut square ones always do the trick,” 

Her nose scrunched adorably. “But they don’t sell peanut butter chocolate chip cookies in the little squares,” 

“Kelley likes to bake. Jerry too. I’m not usually involved,” You answered with ease, taking the wooden spoon she passed you. “When Alex and I get together we usually get distracted trying new tactics and tricks,” 

You didn’t want to say that you were always banished from the kitchen, at least until the oven was off. 

A thoughtful look crossed her face.

This was the first time you had mentioned Alex by name and not followed it with a remark about something terrible she had done. The first time you hadn’t breezed by her existence in the greater context of the team. 

She wanted to pry, to ask why there was a strange tension between you and your older sister, but she wasn’t sure you would give her a straight answer. 

You were a master at spinning questions around (and running interviewers around in circles) when you wanted to, so the only way she would get the story was if you wanted to tell her. 

And she so desperately wanted you to want to let her into your personal life. 

 “Austin doesn’t like to cook either, but we usually chat while I get everything ready,” She said. 

“Alex and I talk better on the field,” Your head bobbed gently as you began to stir the ingredients in the bowl. “Soccer is our best communication method, and Kelley likes to feed us when we’re done,” 

She opened her mouth to ask more, to try and understand why the only place you really opened up was the field, but your phone buzzed obnoxiously on the counter. 

Your eyebrows furrowed as Emily’s contact photo popped up on your screen. 

“You can answer it,” Taylor hummed, grabbing the spoon and bowl from you and carefully measuring in more ingredients. 

You sighed. “It’s probably not important,” 

“But what if it is?” Taylor shrugged. She didn’t want you ignoring your other friends to hang out with her, even if she was slightly flattered that you always gave her your undivided attention (except when you watched movies). “Answer it,” 

“Sup loser,” Emily’s voice filled Taylor’s kitchen as your best friend’s face filled the screen, a wide smile showing off her dimples. 

You rolled your eyes. She would never let you live down how the thorns had beaten the red stars. Badly. Even if you had gotten a banger of a goal on her yourself. 

“Don’t rub it in,” You muttered, balancing the phone against a vase so you could keep stirring the batter, careful that you were the only person in the shot. “What do you want?” 

“Just figured I’d see if you’d seen the roster for January camp yet,” She hummed, shifting forward as if she was trying to see what you were doing, just as Taylor’s hands plopped a stick of butter into the bowl.  “Are you baking? Should I call the fire department?” 

You glowered at her, beginning to mix the thick batter, your tongue poking out the side of your cheek in concentration. 

You hadn’t had time to read your emails yet, not that you were worried. You just got so… distracted with Taylor. You wanted to be in the moment. You wanted to savor every second you got with the person slowly becoming your best friend. 

“No, yes, no,”  You said, eyes flickering towards Taylor and then back to the phone.“I’m supervised,” 

She raised an eyebrow at you. “You’re supervised? Are you clothed?” 

Red filled your cheeks at the implication, and you did your best to ignore Taylor’s raised eyebrow. 

She had heard about your reputation, but having one of your friends bring it up right in front of her still made you blush. You didn’t want her to think that you had some endgame. That you were playing her. 

You weren’t (even if the fluttering in your chest when you were with her made you want something… more). 

You cleared your throat. “I’m with a friend Sonnett,” 

It came out more biting than you meant for it to. More defensive. 

She rolled her eyes, holding her hands up in surrender. “Whatever you say, just be safe,” 

“Fuck off,” You bit back, your teeth clacking, even as Taylor dumped the chocolate chips into the bowl. 

“I love you too Y/n,” She cackled back, unphased by your sudden moodiness. She had seen it hundreds of times before when things in the pitch didn’t go your way. “See you in a few weeks,” 

“Bye loser,” You muttered, unable to resist returning her jab. 

A devilish smirk broke across her face, and you knew you would regret trying to tease her. “Bye y/n and y/n’s friend,” 

“Bye Sonnett,” Taylor added, as you clicked the end call button, and from Emily’s furrowed eyebrows just before the screen ended, you knew she didn’t know who had said goodbye to her. 

You anxiously rubbed the back of your neck, avoiding running your hand through your hair so you didn’t have to wash them… again. “Sorry about her,” 

“She’s charming,” Taylor hummed, taking the bowl of cookie dough from in front of you. “Is she always like that?” 

“No,”  You muttered, as she carefully scooped out a bit of dough with a spoon and transferred it to a baking sheet. “She can actually be pretty sweet when she wants to be. It’s why Rosie loves her so much,” 

Taylor’s head tilted to the side as she tried to follow your train of thought. Despite how much you talked about the team, you rarely ever mentioned the relationships within it. The team was intensely private in that way, and she respected that. Still, it didn’t mean she wasn’t curious… and you had technically mentioned it first. 

“Are they dating?” 

“No,” You snorted, shaking your head. They were two blind idiots in love, terrified of messing up a friendship. “They mostly just make moon eyes at each other right now. But hopefully winning a gold will give one of them the balls to finally make a move,” 

“Like she thought you had the balls to bake naked,”

She knew there had to be a story there, but getting you to actually tell her would be a bigger challenge. 

More red colored your cheeks, traveling up to your ears.

“It would be more likely for me to be naked, than for me to be baking,” you murmured, rubbing harder at the back of your neck. “That comment was probably more about the supervision. The last time she called I was sneaking out of a girl's apartment,”

Her eyebrow raised nearly to her hairline. “And you answered?” 

It was hard to wrap her head around how commonplace your hookups were. She didn’t like how casual you and everyone around you were about them, especially since you were so young.

“She wanted to check in,” You waved a hand dismissively. “We lost pretty badly,”

She didn’t quite know how those two pieces fit together. “But she asked if you needed the fire department,” 

You cleared your throat and looked away. “I… distracted a girl one time while she was cooking,” 

Taylor swallowed her grimace. She wasn’t allowed to be jealous. Not yet anyway. 

She was your friend. 

She scooped a small bit of batter with her finger and reached out to smear it on the very tip of your nose. “Sounds pretty dangerous,” 

Your eyes crossed as you tried to see the little blob, and Taylor laughed loudly at the expression. 

“You didn’t just do that,” 

Taylor sat back, smirking at you widely. “Oh, but I did. What are you going to do about it?”

You reached across the island, grabbing a small scoop of flour. 

“This,” You said, rubbing the flour into her cheek with a grin. “It’s a little lighter than your normal highlight, but it suits you,” 

She paused for a second before reaching for the flour container, dipping her hand inside. “Oh, it’s on now,” 

She didn’t give you time to duck as she tossed a handful of flour towards you, and you caught a stick of butter still out on the counter as you dove for cover. 

More flour powdered around you in a cloud as you peeked up from your hiding space, throwing a bit of soft butter towards her. It skidded across the counter, mixing with the sugar and flour smeared across the surface. 

It almost made you feel bad, but you would help her clean it up. 

“Missed me, loser,” 

Your nose scrunched at the name, and your eyebrows furrowed. 

You would not be a loser. 

You crawled towards your left, sneaking around the island until you saw her right foot, and a smile broke across your face. 

You dove for her, catching her around the waist, sending the bag of flour flying around you as you both fell, her peels of laughter echoing across the kitchen. 

“I don’t lose,” You chuckled into her neck as flour fell around you like snow. “Flour fights and otherwise,” 

Taylor rolled off of you, propping herself up on her elbow so she could look at you. “You’ve got a little bit of flour there,” 

She gestured towards your nose, and you lifted your shirt to wipe the area she indicated. You felt the way her eyes were immediately glued to your exposed abs, and you took an extra second to wipe your face so she could look. 

Her face was red when you dropped your shirt. 

“Thanks,” You winked, and the red bled from her cheeks down her neck. 

She snorted and shook her head. “That just made it worse,” 

You wiggled your eyebrows and licked your lips for good measure. “That’s ok, I’ve gotten way dirtier anyway,” 

“You’re too much,” She said, still giggling, watching your shoulder as she sat up. “Let’s get the cookies in the oven and we can clean up while they bake,”

You pouted dramatically. “What if I want to stay dirty?” 

She rolled her eyes, already pushing herself to her feet. “You don’t get cookies,” 

You wrinkled your nose. “Bummer,”

“Come on,” She held her hand out to you, and you took it, letting her pull you up. 

She stole a hug before she let you go, directing you towards where the broom was. 

And you couldn’t help the small smile pulled across your features, both at Taylor and the sight of the cats staring safely at you from the kitchen archway.

You would tolerate baking if it was with Taylor. 

*****

March, 2016

If you’ve got a girlfriend, I’m jealous of her. But if you’re single it’s honestly worse.

You were never good at sneaking. You hadn’t even tried in high school because you knew you would be caught, and after you moved out, there was no one to sneak from. 

Your North Carolina roommate didn’t care how late you were out. She barely even spoke to you at all. 

You were pretty sure she hated you, but which of your Courage teammates didn’t? 

Maybe the newfound freedom made you wreckless, or maybe you just didn’t care about changing your behavior when you were visiting your sister in Florida. 

But whatever the case, Alex was waiting for you when you stepped back into her house, her arms crossed and an annoyed look on her face. 

Part of you wondered if she had been standing there all night, or if she heard the door of your UBER shut and came down to greet you. You wondered if they turned the porch light on as soon as they got home, or if you just hadn’t noticed it when the car pulled up. 

“Where the fuck have you been?” 

You slowly turned towards her, kicking off your shoes, neatly placing them in the rack by the door, and pulling your sweatshirt over your head. “Out? Why?”

“It’s almost 2 am,” She grit out, her eyes flashing dangerously, but it did nothing to dissuade you. 

You shrugged, hanging your sweatshirt on the hook right next to her. “I got distracted” 

She scoffed, following you as you tried to brush past her. “You didn’t call or text, I was worried sick about you,”

You rolled your eyes. 

It wasn’t like you texted her often anyway. The two of you barely spoke as it was, nothing besides Hey how was your day messages and one-word responses on your end. 

It was weird to you that she was still trying to look after you. That she was still trying to be the protective older sister, when clearly your relationship had evolved. 

You weren’t the toddler crawling after her wherever she went, or the 4-year-old tripping over every soccer ball she passed you. 

You were a just barely adult trapped in the shadows of everyone’s expectation of you. 

“OK mom, chill out. I was just… busy,” You snarked, wiggling your fingers at her as you headed towards the kitchen. “I had my hands full,” 

She made a face at you. 

There had been a time when she was more like your mom than your mom was. A time when you were closer to her than anyone else. 

Now it felt like she barely knew you. 

“Just your hands? I thought you had more game than that,” Kelley said from the couch. 

“Trust me, I do,” You cackled, fist-bumping Kelley as you passed her, headed for the kitchen. 

“Don’t encourage her,” Alex grumbled, nudging her as they both followed after you. 

You again rolled your eyes, pulling out one of the stools at the island, settling into it, and running your hand through your wild curls. “Chill out Al, I made it here, ok?”

You didn’t like it when your hookups messed with your hair, but it seemed everyone was obsessed with it. 

“Good argument kid,” Kelley chortled, grabbing a plate of rock shaped objects from next to the stove and holding them out to you. “Cookie?” 

Your nose scrunched at the offered items, but you took one anyway, letting your shoulders relax as the tension between you and Alex mellowed. 

She had been acting as referee for the two of you for a very long time, almost as long as they had been dating, and she was an expert at this point. It helped that you would open up to her more than you ever would to Alex. 

You knew your sister and her girlfriend didn’t like your… relaxation method, but as long as your partner was into it and you were into it, you didn’t see a problem. It was better than some of the things you could be doing. 

“You know, eventually you’re going to have to stop this,” Alex muttered, sitting down at the counter beside you.

“Why?” You asked, examining the cookie. 

She laid her phone on the counter and slid it towards you, “Because the team aren’t the only people who have picked up on it now,”

You glanced down at the device. 

It was a Twitter feed of pictures of you and the girl you had just left. You reached out and scrolled, frowning when you saw all of the text tweets below it. 

@randomy/nfan: it’s unfair how ridiculously hot she is. 

@randomy/nfan2: no one needs to wipe their face that many times during a game

@randomy/nfan: Did you see how she stuck her tongue out each time she ran her hand through her hair? It should be criminal. 

@randomy/nfan3: she totally winked at me after she gave me her jersey. Too bad I wasn’t the one she took home after. 

@randomy/nfan5: can confirm she winked after she took her jersey off. She even flexed for the photo. 

@SoccerUpdates: Y/n Morgan spotted with Orlando rookie Sam Witterman after the game. 

“The fans need to mind their own fucking business,” You grumbled, sliding her phone back. “I didn’t flex for her either,”

Alex raised an eyebrow at you. “If it wasn’t for her, who was it for? Because Sam wasn’t even paying attention,”

You looked back at the cookie, using it to hide the sudden heat in your cheeks. “I’m an adult and I can do whoever or whatever I want,” 

You hadn’t been flexing for the fan. You had been flexing in case your favorite singer was watching the game like she said she would be. 

It was frustrating how obsessed the media was with you sometimes. The fans didn’t know the line between who you were on the field and in interviews and who you were off the field. They didn’t understand the concept of privacy.

“You can,” Kelley agreed, ignoring the glare Alex sent her way. “But aren’t you concerned that you give a part of yourself away each time you sleep with someone?” 

Your shoulders lifted and then fell. “It’s not like I receive,” 

“What?” Kelley frowned. 

“Half the time, I don’t even take my pants off. It’s not like they notice,” You mumbled, taking a bite of the cookie and wrinkling your nose at the crumbly texture of oats and coconut. “Why is everything in your house vegan?” 

“I never pegged you as a stone top,” Kelley breathed out, shaking her head. “And my cookies are vegan because your sister is vegan and enjoys being able to eat the things I make,” 

“You just don’t like that she won’t let you kiss her when you’ve had anything that actually tastes good,” You hummed, taking another bite of the too-dry cookie. “It’s just easier,” 

Alex’s eyebrows furrowed, a warning bell sounding in the back of her mind. “Easier?”

You nodded, swallowing the sand-like texture in your mouth. “It’s hard to find clothes in the dark without waking anyone up, and that makes sneaking out more difficult,”

“You don’t even stay long enough to say goodbye?” Alex grimaced. 

“No,” You said dismissively, reaching for another cookie and taking a bite. “Then they’d have a chance to try and get me to stay,”

Alex could only stare at you, wondering where the shy kid who had been terrified to ask your high school crush out went. When had you gone from sweet and reserved to a Fuck boy who didn’t even tell the person they were sleeping with goodbye?

 “Jesus,” She scoffed, running a palm across her face. “You’re only 18, you shouldn’t be participating in hookup culture,”

“Like you weren’t when you were at Berkeley,” Kelley chuckled. “Y/n is just having her frat boy era without a frat. Let the kid live,” 

“Yeah Alex, let me live,” You intoned, copying Kelley. 

Alex glared at the side of your head, much like she did when you were young and being a brat. “Fine then. Was she good?”

You tilted your chin toward her incredulously. “You really want to hear about my hookup?”

“Well you wanted me to let you live,” She sat back in her chair, crossing her arms. The stance that always made younger you cower. “So tell me, was she good? Did you enjoy yourself?”

You raised an eyebrow at her, staring for a long second before shrugging and taking another bite of your cookie. “She was fine, like the others,”

“Just fine?”

“Her nails were really long, so she gorged my back,” You said, turning and pulling the collar of your shirt down so she could see the angry red marks at the top of your back. “I was worried I was going to bleed all over my shirt,”

Alex’s eyebrows furrowed. You had to be the good one to get marks like that, and the idea that you were… talented in that area almost made her want to vomit. As did the notion that your… skills probably came from… practice. 

Lots of practice.

“So you ditched us for a just fine hookup?” Kelley asked, and it made the guilt bubble in your stomach. 

That was the only good part about playing Orlando… that you got to spend time with your sister (something that was rare after she left you for Berkeley).

It was the only real hope you saw at mending the bridge that covered the crater that her departure left in your relationship. 

And you sighed, sinking on the stool, your shoulders hunching. “I didn’t think I was going to be out as late as I was. I’m sorry,”

“Ok, but why go for a hookup anyway?” Alex asked, her hand finding your back and rubbing circles. 

You took another bite of your cookie, chewing it slowly and swallowing hard. 

You weren’t sure you wanted to open up. That you wanted to accept her comfort or her touch, but pushing her away felt… cruel. 

“Paul is trading me to Chicago. He said I’m not progressing, and I don’t fit his scheme. I went out because I needed to blow off some steam. I found out right before the game,”

The words felt like lead in your mouth. He hadn’t even had the guts to tell you himself. Instead, you found out from your manager, with his comments on your performance. 

“That sucks,” Kelley reached across the island to take your hand. 

“Paul is a fucking asshole,” Alex grit out, her hand falling from your back. “You’re better off honestly,” 

There was something else in her voice that you couldn’t quite place. 

“Chicago is going to be lethal with you and Chris,” Kelley hummed, squeezing you three times, before turning towards the cabinets and pulling out a plastic bag. “These have eggs and milk. I made them for you. You deserve it.” 

You instantly dropped the cookie in your hand and reached for the bag of peanut butter chocolate chip goodness. “Why didn’t you pull these out sooner?” 

“Because you snuck into our house at 1:30 am,” Kelley shrugged, leaning on the counter. “After ditching us,” 

“I wasn’t trying to ditch you,” You mumbled, pulling a cookie out of the bag and biting into it. Your eyes slid closed as the chocolaty peanut butter played across your tongue. 

They were nearly as good as the ones Taylor had made you the last time you saw her. 

“You were just trying to get laid so you could forget your problems,” Alex finished for you, frowning. You rolled your eyes, grabbing your phone out from your back pocket and snapping a picture of the cookies. 

Alex sighed heavily, reaching over and brushing a curl from in front of your eyes. “I just worry about you,” 

She promised your parents and older sisters she would look after you when you decided to forgo college and join the league(even if the 2 of you weren’t as close as you once were). She didn’t think letting you sleep your way through the teams was healthy, and she couldn’t help but wonder if it was a sign of something deeper going on with you. 

You were always so shy growing up. Even after you told them that you were into women, you had never been so… overt with your interactions. You were so sweet with the girl you took to your senior prom, so nervous around any girl you really liked. 

She wasn’t sure when that changed. 

“I’m doing fine,” You said, taking another bite of the cookie. “You’d be the first to know if I wasn’t,” 

“Promise?” She asked you, more softly. 

Every time she looked at you, she would see the tiny 4-year-old running after her, telling her you were fine after you skinned your knee or elbow. Or 7-year-old you swearing you were good to go after you broke your arm surfing a too-big wave. 

“With my pinky,” 

You held your finger up for good effect, and she linked hers with yours. 

“You guys are disgustingly adorable,” Kelley hummed, sliding you a glass of milk. “Now eat up, I want to actually sleep tonight,” 

OoOoOoO

Twitter wasn’t one of Taylor’s favorite social media apps. It was a pit of anxiety-inducing posts and hateful opinions, and she genuinely made an effort to stay away. 

But after watching your soccer game, she couldn’t help herself. 

It had been a humid night in Florida (according to the commentary team). You kept lifting your shirt to wipe the sweat out of your eyes, and your curls had been wild by the end of the second half. 

The grainy stream hadn’t been clear enough for her. It hadn’t done your abs justice so Taylor had relented to the bird app. To pictures taken by people who were actually at the stadium, and things spiraled from there. 

It should have made her feel… shameful that she was scrolling through photos of you, looking for one that showed the moment you lifted your shirt and maybe when you gave your jersey away. She should feel bad that she was looking for the moment you put your abs on full display. 

But she didn't. 

She had been slightly obsessed since you sent her a bathroom mirror picture after the game the US had played against Canada, your shirt pulled up to your chin to show off the perfect impression of a cleat on your skin. And getting to see them in person in her kitchen had only made things worse.

Maybe it was slightly more than slightly…

If you didn’t want her to look, you certainly wouldn’t have sent her the picture, but still. With the parade of women that always seemed to be surrounding you, she wasn’t sure that you had really given it that much thought. 

She sighed, scrolling through the feed, pausing on a picture that had been taken of you after the game. 

She really shouldn’t be this invested in you, not when your reputation was that of a player. 

She didn’t want to be played. Not again. 

But you were different with her. You weren’t the arrogant soccer player posing for photos, or winking at fans. You were sweet and charming and it took almost no effort to make you blush. 

And… she groaned, swiping to the next picture. 

Your arm was slung low across a girl's back as you guided her into a car, a wide smirk pulling at your lips. It left nothing of your plans to the imagination, but maybe that’s why you had done it. 

You wanted to world to think you were a fuck boy. You wanted them to believe that you had an impenetrable shell. 

She rolled her eyes. 

She knew differently. 

That didn’t mean that it didn’t send jealousy through her veins when she saw the pictures, even if she didn’t really have the right to be jealous. 

She sighed again, scrolling past the pictures. 

At least she knew that you were still technically single (though that might have actually been worse). 

Her phone buzzed in her hand, and she grabbed the message from the top of the screen. 

It was a picture of a bag of cookies.

Soccer Hottie: Kelley made me cookies. They weren’t as good as yours

She smiled at the screen, her jealousy melting. Though she was slightly disappointed a picture of your face hadn’t been included. 

I can make you more when you visit me

Soccer Hottie: I’d like that 😘. I’ll have to check my schedule. 

At least she got a part of you that none of your hookups did. She got to see the things you cared about. She got to see your likes and dislikes. 

That was more than any of your hookups would ever get, and that made it easier to be your friend. 

*****

June 2016

I watched from a distance as you Made life your own

“You know I hate this game,” You sighed, resting your chin on your hand and staring at the Scrabble board. 

It was the same expression you made when you stared at the stupid app Taylor made you download so you could play her, except no one was ever there to heckle you while you tried to figure out what your next move should be. 

She also didn’t rush you or set a timer so you couldn’t take all day. 

“It’s better than Monopoly,” Emily shrugged, extending her legs so her feet were resting in Rose’s lap. “Last time we played there was a fistfight,” 

Rose hummed, squeezing Emily’s foot and shifting the tiles on her little ledge. “That’s why we switched to monopoly deal,” 

Board games were a staple during the downtime at camp, and this one was no different. With Rose (and Emily by default since they started dating) as your roommate(s), you had been roped into a quick Scrabble game while you all waited for team bonding. 

She reached out and placed 4 of her pieces, forming the word Focus around your word Cracker.

You frowned. You had been planning to make the word cutter, but now your c was gone and there was no way for you to connect to Emily’s R on the other side (though you weren’t sure exactly what word she had created considering the two center letters kept flipping in your head). 

You liked Monopoly better. It didn’t make your head hurt so much. 

Plus it was one of the few games where you always kicked Alex’s ass. 

“I still think you two have an unfair advantage over me,” you muttered, puffing out your cheek and pulling out your phone. You smiled as you scrolled to a very familiar contact. 

Emily’s eyebrows furrowed. “What are you doing?” 

“Leveling the playing field,” You shot her a wide smirk, as the ringing of the FaceTime app stopped and the little boop that meant your favorite person had answered sounded through the room. “Hey Scrabble queen,”

“Hey, what’s up?” Her lips ticked up in a smile that she only used when she was with you, and you saw an unfamiliar painting and a microphone behind her.

She must be at the studio. 

You knew she was working on an album, though you’d been reluctant to hear any spoilers. You didn’t want to hear about a new… love interest. You didn’t think you could take it, and you needed to focus if the team was going to do well at the Olympics. 

“I need your help,” You pouted at the phone, making your eyes as big and innocent as you could. “Im shitty at scrabble and I don’t want to lose to Rosie and Emily,”

Taylor rolled her eyes at you. 

“Hey! Why do you get to phone a friend!?” Emily exclaimed, reaching for the phone, and the semi-familiar voice on the other end. “Is it the person who was with you last time I called?” 

You shrugged nonchalantly, shifting so she couldn’t steal your phone without looking at your tiles (thereby disqualifying her). “Because I’m dyslexic,” 

“You’re getting better actually. You got a triple word last week,” Taylor said, and your eyes darted back toward her. You hadn’t told her it was really Kelley who saw the triple word yet. “Can you show me the board and your letters please?” 

“You didn’t answer my question, is this mystery girl?” Emily cut back in, even as Rose held her foot so she didn’t try to tackle you to see who you had called. 

“She’s not a mystery,” You scrunched your nose and flipped the camera, giving Taylor a good view of the board. “She’s my friend,” 

Rose raised her eyebrow at you. “Then what’s her name, you know so we can call her something else?” 

“Taylor,” You answered with an easy shrug, not really thinking about it. 

You doubted they’d make the connection anyway. 

Not unless Taylor said something incriminating, and you doubted she would considering how careful she was. 

“Ok, I think I’ve got it. I’ll text you the next couple of moves,” Taylor said, looking sideways over the phone and nodding. “I’ll talk to you later, I’ve gotta go,” 

“Thank you!” You flipped the camera around and sent her a goofy smile.

“Anytime,” She mirrored your smile and blew you a little kiss. “Talk to you later babe,” 

You caught the kiss and waved, staring at the phone for a very long second even after it had gone back to your Lock Screen. 

It made your chest feel warm that even when she was busy, she answered your calls. That she always made time for you. 

“If she’s your friend, then you have one hell of a crush,” Emily said, drawing you back to the moment. 

You blinked back up at the pair, the warm feeling in your chest replaced with sudden anxiety. “What?” 

“She called you babe,” Rose supplied, her voice very soft like she was afraid to startle you. 

They all knew of your… reluctance to settle down, and she couldn’t help but feel like there was a deeper reason behind it that they were all overlooking. 

Emily snorted, not catching the hesitance in Rose's voice. “And you stared at the phone after you hung up for a solid 30 seconds,” 

Red immediately flooded your cheeks, and your hand clenched at your side. “We’re just friends,” 

Even if you enjoyed the flirting and your feelings were slowly surpassing the boundaries of friendship. She would never want someone like you. 

You were just a kid compared to her, bumbling your way through your career and fucking it up at every turn. 

Plus she was straight. 

It was too cliche for you to handle. 

“Ok,” Rose conceded, shooting Emily a very serious look to not push you more. 

It never turned out well when they pushed. 

“It’s still your turn,” Emily said, her voice also going soft, gesturing towards the scrabble board. “Let’s see how good the mystery Taylor really is,”

You hummed, pulling up the text, and ignoring the little Good luck 😜 that accompanied her instructions. 

Your tongue made its way between your teeth as you read the step-by-step text, each letter separated by a double space, and you slowly reached for the letter tiles and slid them into place, forming the word Resonate with the help of two of Emily’s words and one of Roses. 

“Ha, a quadrupole word,” You cheered, typing out a thank you text to Taylor as Emily groaned. 

Rose rolled her eyes, still smiling softly at you.“And let me guess, it’s the easiest one she sent you?” 

She hadn’t seen you this… engaged in a long time. She hadn’t seen you so… happy, not since you started playing at North Carolina, and she hadn’t seen you show more interest than a quick one-night stand. 

“Yep,” You popped the p and smiled wickedly at them. “read it and weep losers,”

“You’re only winning because of the mystery scrabble queen,” Emily pouted. “What, does she have an entire empire made of word blocks too?”

“She’s not a fucking mob boss. She’s just a friend, and I told you, it’s fair because it levels the playing field,” You shrugged, failing to mention that the butterflies Taylor sent swirling in your chest were much more than friendly. 

It wasn’t like they hadn’t beaten you each time you played this game before. “Now make your move before I sic the time turtle on you and you have to draw a wicked wango card,” 

Rose raised her eyebrow at you. “Since when did you watch Friends? 

“Yeah! I thought you hated anything remotely scripted besides superhero movies and Indiana Jones?” Emily added, crossing her arms indignantly. “It’s how you get out of literally every movie bonding night,” 

Your shoulders lifted and fell, and red bled into your cheeks. 

You hadn’t really minded the comedy eating kettle corn with Taylor in a massive pillow fort, though Meredith and Olivia pawing at your bowl while Taylor pouted at their adamant ignoral of her had made it all worth it (they had been very unhappy about the quick baths she made them take because they were covered in flour from your little food fight). 

Plus you thought that Bamboozled was probably the only game show that wouldn’t put you to sleep (you agreed with Joey that it wasn’t that complicated). 

“Friends doesn’t really have a plot,” You muttered, looking down at your phone and moving your tiles around so you didn’t have to think about your next move. “And it’s funny so it’s not so bad,” 

Rose made a low noise, poking Emily with her toes, telling her not to push.

She had a feeling that your sudden interest in the show had more to do with who you were watching it with than the comedy. And she wouldn’t be the one to meddle in what was your first real relationship. 

She wouldn’t let Emily either. 

The wrath that would meet them from all the vets and your older sister was not something she wanted to deal with. 

“Come on Sonny, make your move,”

******

July 2016

But I stay when you're lost, and I'm scared, and you're turning away

2016 was the summer of the apocalypse. 

There was no other way to put it. 

You never thought a singular PK could turn your team and the rest of the world against you. But it did. 

You only got to play the last 10 minutes of the game, and your only job was to make the penalty. 

But you missed it. Badly. 

Jill made it clear before you were even back in the locker room that you would need to earn your way back. Roary had benched you as soon as you returned to Chicago. But the worst was the media, and the slew of hate that had been unleashed on you the second your foot left the ball. 

It rivaled the hate Hope was getting, and that was saying something. 

You blew out a long breath, took another swig of your lukewarm beer and slowly kicked the ball back toward the PK spot. 

One of the few benefits to Chicago was that the high school soccer field was within walking distance from your shitty apartment. The other was that the high school soccer field stayed open all night and had good lighting. 

You took another swig before gently setting the bottle next to four of its already empty friends, and setting up for the kick. It should have concerned you that the ball was slightly blurry, or that you were a bit wobbly on your feet, but it didn’t.  

Not when you so clearly saw your path to regaining your future. 

You rolled your neck, squaring your shoulders and looking from the ball to the net. You could imagine the thousands of people screaming, and the keeper jockeying in her line, waiting for you. 

You took another breath, leaning forward. You shuffled your feet, starting the countdown in your head. 

5

4

3

2

But just before you got to 1, your phone buzzed in your pocket, pulling your focus from the upper right corner of the net just as you fell into step for the pk. The ball connected with your foot at the wrong angle, and was sent flying into the stands instead of towards goal. 

“Fuck,” You muttered, running a hand through your hair and pulling the offending device from your back pocket. 

Blondie👱🏻‍♀️🎤: Hey, you ok? They said you weren’t on the bench, but didn’t give a reason.

You couldn’t help the small smile that pulled at your lips when you saw Taylor’s contact on your Home Screen, even if you had to squint to make out her message. 

She was one of the only people who was still talking to you after the Olympics. One of your only friends who hadn’t ditched you. 

She liked you for you, and what you did on the pitch didn’t change that. Maybe that was why you were so drawn to her. Why the hangouts had gotten more frequent? 

Maybe you just liked hanging out with her.

You took three steps back towards your drinks, plopping down and grabbing your beer. 

I’m good. Cosch bwndnwd me bdcajwe hd thihls I zuck.

You swallowed the last of the sudsy liquid as you hit send, lining it up with the others and reaching for a new one as 3 little dots appeared. 

Blondie 👱🏻‍♀️🎤: ???

You sighed, cracking the bottle open with your cleat and typing out your response. Your fingers slipped across the screen, and it took you a second to find the send button. 

Hd said I’k not aolowed badk pn the vrncn until I deserve to bd a profrsakonal spcver player abIN/

The message instantly went to read, but the three little dots didn’t appear again. 

You shrugged, taking a long sip of your beer (nearly downing the entire thing) before you placed the bottle next to its partners and began to kick a new ball toward the penalty spot, your phone dangling dangerously between your fingers. 

You let out a long breath, lining up for the shot, your eyes lifting from the fuzzy ball to the equally fuzzy net. 

But your phone buzzed in your hand before you could step into the kick. You lazily held it up to your face, clicking the accept button when you saw the FaceTime logo. 

“Whad upp T-Swizzle,” You smiled dopily at Taylor’s face as she appeared on the screen, the stadium lights glinting off of your glassy eyes. 

“Hey, are you ok? Your texts were kinda crazy,” She asked, her eyebrows furrowing with worry at your slurred speech. 

“‘M great!” You cheered, spinning in place as if to show how great you were. 

Her frown deepened. “You sound drunk?”

You rapidly shook your head. “‘M nottt,” Your voice caught on the last t, and you quietly stared at her for a long second before your dopey smile was back.  “‘M practicin’ PKs. Wanna see?” 

“No, Y/n,” She said, trying to sound stern. But it was too late, you had already flipped the camera around to face the goal. 

“Those arrr the ones I made,” You slurred, the camera shaking violently as you tried to focus on each of the balls that had made it to the back of the net. 

The camera then suddenly jerked, panning towards the bleachers. “And those arr the ones I missed. I missed a lot. I suckkkk,” 

Several balls were haphazardly strewn across a set of rusting bleachers and lying by a dilapidated fence. But what really caught Taylor’s attention was a silver and gold cardboard box and a pile of empty bottles sitting at the gate.

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. She knew that things had been difficult for you, but she never expected you to get drunk and go to a random field at night. Or to make your way through a case of beer like she was sure you had. “Y/n turn the camera around,”

It took you a second to flip the camera back around, but your now somber face met her when you finally got it. 

She tried not to think about how adorable your pout was (an expression you rarely ever used when you were sober). 

“How many beers have you had?” She asked you seriously. 

“Few?” you shrugged, squinting towards where the box was and biting your lip. “Almost gone,”

“I can see that,” She breathed out, trying to stay calm. “How big of a pack did you buy?” 

Your grin returned, and you threw your arms out wide, spinning in a circle. “The biggggest,”

“Y/n,” Taylor sighed again, waiting for you to get back in frame. “Where are you? I’m gonna send a car to pick you up,”

“No. I gotta clean up annd practice so I can play,” You said, looking away from the camera, biting your lip. “I gotta nooot suckkk,” 

“You don’t suck,” Taylor said, already pulling up her contacts. “Tell me where you are, and I will help you clean up before the car arrives,” 

The line went quiet for a long second, and she looked up to see your eyebrows furrowed. She wasn’t sure if you were just trying to think, or if you were trying not to cry (it was hard to tell with how red and glassy your eyes were). 

“Y/n?”

“I don’ suck?” Your bottom lip wobbled. 

She shook her head. 

“No. You missed a shot. It happens to everyone,” She repeated your own words back to you, ones she had heard you speak hundreds of times. Ones she meant with all of her heart. “Now tell me where you are. I’m worried about you,” 

You buzzed your lips. “The high school field by my apartment,” 

“Ok,” She said, feeling the knot in her chest loosen as she scrolled through her contacts and sent a frantic text to her security. Jason would send someone to get you. Someone who would keep you safe. “I have someone coming to get you,” 

“I gotta clean up,” You poked your bottom lip out, stumbling over to the ball bag and struggling to get it open one-handed. 

“I’ll stay on the line with you while you do,” Taylor said, keeping her voice soothing, and calm, even as she sent more frantic texts to her security and assistant moving her schedule around for the next few days. “And Tony will help once he gets there,” 

You paused, from where you were sloppily gathering up balls and looked at the camera with wide eyes. “Iron man?” 

Taylor resisted the urge to roll her eyes or coo at the adorable expression (though she did store it away in her memory bank for later recollection). “No, not the same Tony,” 

You frowned, stumbling towards the stands and using a foot using push the balls to the bottom so you could gather them. 

You tripped as you stepped up onto the silver seating, intent on getting the stray ball you had sailed to the top of the stands. “Nashatasha wass cuter anyway,” 

“Yeah,” Taylor said slowly,her eyes scrunching as you nearly tumbled down the open side of the bleachers. “Why don’t you sit down? Tony is almost there to help you anyway. He can get the rest of the balls,”

All she needed was for you to fall out of the stands and hurt yourself. 

Your tongue poked between your teeth like you were thinking before the phone shook violently as you plopped down onto the bleachers and rested your chin on your hand. “Kay,”

She blew out a breath as you blinked lazily at her. “Don’t worry, Tony will be there soon,” 

She said the words for herself as much as she said them for you. She didn’t like the idea of you being drunk and alone on a random high school field in the middle of the night. 

She needed you to be safe, and ok. It was a protective instinct that curled around her chest in a way that it had only for one other person. 

Tony would be there soon, and they would get you back to your apartment and she would be able to breathe again. 

OoOoOoOo

“Alright, I think I’ve got her all settled,” A salt and pepper-haired man said, as he tucked your Arsenal blanket under your chin as you snorted softly on the couch. His mirror-finish aviators hung from his v-neck shirt, something more casual than anything Taylor had ever seen him wear before. 

It was a testament to how quickly he had abandoned his vacation to help her (and you by extension), and for that, she would be forever grateful. 

“Thank you, Tony,” She said softly, keeping her voice down so she didn’t wake you. “Really,” 

“It’s no problem ma’am,” He waved her off, his southern drawl calming whatever worry was still left in her chest. “I was happy to help when Jason contacted me, and Ms. Morgan is a very cooperative drunk,” 

You had been incredibly well-behaved when Tony arrived, allowing him to guide you into the back of the SUV and then giving him your apartment address and your keys with no arguments. You didn’t even complain when he basically carried you up the stairs because you were too wobbly to walk. She wasn’t sure if it was because she was on the phone with you, or if you were just too tired to fight.

“Hopefully we don’t have more of these encounters to compare it against,” Taylor said, glancing at the text from her personal assistant. “Casey texted me, my plane is ready, so I should be there fairly soon,” 

Tony made a low noise of agreement, placing a glass of water and an Advil on the coffee table next to your sleeping form, and taking a few steps back to sit on one of the stools, shifting so he could check that the three distinct dog bowls below him also had water. 

The three huskies had refused to leave your side as soon as he got you laid down on the couch. 

“I’ll stay outside her door until you arrive in case there are any issues,” Tony said, looking around your tiny apartment yet again to make sure that there wasn’t anything else he could do so that you would be comfortable when you woke up. “Would you like to stay on the line?” 

Taylor nodded. “That would be great,” 

Even though he was there, she wanted to stay too. She needed to be present in case you woke up. She didn’t want you to feel alone, especially when it seemed your team had abandoned you. 

Tony stood, plugging in your phone and setting it up on the coffee table so that Taylor had a clear view of your sleeping face. 

“I’ll be just outside the door, and my phone is on in case you need me,” He said, squatting so he could look into the camera, and send her a small smile. “I’ll see you when you get here,” 

She sent him a wave as he disappeared, leaving the two of you alone (save for the gray huskie who had wiggled under your arm and the black one who was curled up behind your head). 

She let out a long breath, watching the slow rise and fall of the edge of your Arsenal blanket. 

You looked so young in your sleep.

You were young, she had to remind herself. You were barely 19, even if you wanted to act like you were so much older. Even if you had more responsibilities and people scrutinizing you than most other people your age. 

You shifted, pulling the blanket closer to your face, one eye sleepily blinking open. 

“Tay?” 

She hummed, keeping her voice soft. “Yeah, I’m still here,” 

You shifted, wrapping your arm tighter around the gray husky in your arms. 

“Don’t ever leave,” You murmured the words into the dog's fur so softly that Taylor almost didn’t hear them. “I like you too much. Even if I don’t deserve you,” 

“I like you too,” She smiled gently at the words that sent butterflies swirling in her chest. “Go back to sleep,”

She had liked you too for a very long time, even if she was still hesitant to admit it. 

“Noooo,” You pouted, forcing your eyes further open to look at her. They were breathtakingly blue, just like your older sisters. “I like you like Alex likes Kelley, but I’m not supposed to. You’re too good,” 

Her eyebrows furrowed. 

Why weren’t you supposed to like her? What did you mean that she was too good? 

“And you’re straight,” You added, shifting so your nose was hiding behind the dog in your arms. 

“You can like me Y/n,” She murmured, wanting nothing more than to reach out and brush your messy curls from in front of your sleepy eyes. “I like you too,”

It wouldn’t be worth it to argue with your assumption of her sexuality now anyway. You were too drunk to remember in the morning. 

Your eyes blinked open wider in an adorable doe-eyed expression. “Really?”

“Yes,” She nodded, her lips ticking up impossibly more at your adorableness. “Now sleep. I’ll see you soon,” 

You made a low noise, your eyes sliding closed as you snuggled your nose into the dog under your arm. 

She waited for your breathing to even out, (and several minutes after that) before she clicked off the call to catch her flight. She could watch your sleep for the rest of your lives, and still not get enough. 

She wondered if you were dreaming of her, or of soccer balls and shots that you didn’t miss. Or maybe you were dreaming of a world where one kick didn’t have your teammates and friends turning their backs on you. 

Maybe one day she would ask you. 

OoOoOoO

The first thing you noticed as you came into consciousness was that your mouth felt like it was full of cotton and your head felt like Ashlyn had used it as a ball during punting practice, or like Megan had used it to practice her perfect PKs.

You groaned, shifting on the couch, accidentally displacing the three dogs that had cuddled in around you at some point. 

You had no idea why you were sleeping on the couch, instead of in the king-sized bed you had purchased so the 4 of you had room. 

Come to think of it, you didn’t actually remember how you got here. 

The last thing you remembered was cracking open your 4th beer and gathering your balls so you could shoot more penalties. You didn’t exactly like how the sudsy liquid tasted, but it did an excellent job at dulling the ache in your chest that had settled as soon as you took that fucking PK. 

The ache that went ignored by your sister and your teammates who were too wrapped up in their own grief to even check on you. 

You groaned, running a hand through your hair. At least you remembered to close the blinds, and put out Advil and water for yourself? 

You pushed yourself up, closing your eyes when your apartment spun around you, and pressing your fingers to the bridge of your nose. 

Three cold noses nudged your skin, and you slowly worked your eyes open and reached for the tall glass. 

“I’m ok guys,” You mumbled towards the three dogs sending you worried looks and took a large sip of the still-cool water. “It’s like when I give you guys too many treats,” 

The gray huskie on your left wined, butting her head into your arm. You reached over with your free hand to scratch behind her ear. “I’m ok Art, nothing a good cup of coffee can’t fix,” 

The red dog to your left also nudged you and you rolled your eyes, setting the glass down so you could scratch his head too, and you eyed the black dog still contently cuddled into your left leg. 

He was always the most chill of the floof pack, happy to just be in your presence. 

You would be happy to stay here all day. To let them love away the empty feeling that lingered after you like a bad cough. 

You blinked as a knock sounded at your door, the levity in your chest deflating like a popped balloon. 

It was probably one of your teammates coming to scold you for not sitting in the stands at last night's game. For ditching it instead of taking your punishment.  

The knock sounded again, and you blew out a long breath as you forced yourself to your feet. “I’m coming,” 

Artemis and Apollo trailed after you, stopping by the counter like they had been trained, and Orion stayed on the couch, watching over the living room like a centennial. 

You rolled your eyes at him, running a hand through your hair again, trying to at least pretend you were presentable, as you grabbed the door handle (barely even bothered that the deadbolt wasn’t latched)

You froze when you saw a head of blond hair and the bluest eyes you had ever seen instead of one of your teammates. 

“Taylor? What are you doing here?” You frowned, opening the door wider with one hand and rubbing your tired eyes with the other, hoping it would quell the dizziness that actually standing brought on. “Don’t you have a recording thing today?”

“I have a recording thing every day,” She said, stepping closer to the door. “You scared the shit out of me and I needed to come to check on you myself,” 

Your eyebrows furrowed. 

How had you scared her? Did you call her? 

“Sorry. I don’t really remember the details of last night,” You opened the door wider, your hand lingering in your curls. “Do you wanna come in?”

Taylor nodded, stepping closer to you. “I’d like that,” 

Took a step back, looking behind you towards the dogs. 

“The gray one is Artemis and the red one is Apollo. Orion is black and probably hiding out here somewhere, he’s not a big fan of meeting new people,” You gestured towards the husky’s two waiting for their release command. “Do you want to say hello? They won’t jump, but I know you’re more of a cat person,” 

She looked over your shoulder, nodding. “Yeah,” 

You turned towards the dogs, waving across your waist. “Vale, saluda,” 

Art sniffed at you as she pushed herself up and slowly waltzed past you, Apollo close on her tail as they made their way over to Taylor. 

She tensed like she expected them to tackle her, but they didn’t. Apollo politely sniffed at the hand she had extended as Art circled her twice before nudging gently against her leg, asking to be pet. 

“They’re so well-behaved,” Taylor said softly, her fingers winding their way into the soft fur of Art’s neck. 

“Thanks,” You said, watching carefully as Apollo pressed his into Taylor’s other leg, indicating he wanted to be pet too. “They’re pretty mellow for huskies, as long as they've had their exercise,”

Art paused as Taylor’s other hand began to scratch Apollo's back, and you sighed, pointing away from the two of you. “De,”

Yes, they were well-behaved, but their relationship was also similar to the one you shared with your sister. Apollo liked to rile his older sister up, just like you loved to get a rise out of Alex. 

You didn’t think that Taylor would appreciate a play fight breaking out. 

Art sniffed at you, but did as you asked, her nails tapping as she trotted off towards the living room with Apollo at her heels. 

Maybe they would go find Orion and show him the visitor wasn’t so scary. 

“Want a drink?” You asked, awkwardly scratching the back of your neck with one hand and gesturing to the small bar in your kitchen with the other. “I think I have coffee somewhere,”

It was mundane in comparison to Taylor’s full marble kitchen. Small and disheveled on all accounts. 

The linoleum blue counter had a crack running down the center and you knew that both wooden stools wobbled dangerously when they weren’t in the right spot. But Taylor didn’t complain as she followed you. 

“Coffee would be great,” She hummed, and the stools squeaked as she settled onto one and placed her bag on the other. “I think you could use some too after the night you had,”

You shrugged, turning your back on her, pulling the coffee out of the freezer, and settling up the coffee maker. “What happened last night?”

You didn’t turn to look at her, busying yourself in grabbing 2 coffee mugs and a glass and getting the milk and a carton of orange juice from the fridge. You would have offered her a glass too, but considering how often you drank directly from the carton, you didn’t think it was a good idea. 

“Well,” She drew out the word, and you felt her eyes on you as you moved through the kitchen. “I texted you because you weren’t on the bench, and you responded mostly with self-deprecating gibberish, so I called you,” 

You made a low noise in the back of your throat, grabbing your sugar jar and sliding it towards her, but not meeting her eyes. “I was probably a couple beers deep at that point,”

“Just a couple?” You could almost hear her raised eyebrows, and you finally turned to look at her, placing the coffee pot between you. 

You shrugged, smiling impishly as you poured yourself a cup of coffee. “A few more than a couple,”

“Try a 24-pack,” Taylor scoffed, pouring herself her own cup of coffee. “You’re lucky you didn’t get alcohol poisoning,”

You set your coffee on the counter, sucking all the warmth you could from your mug, your blasé mask cracking. 

“I didn’t drink it all last night,” You said, finally meeting her eyes. “I only had like 13 left,”

She sighed, reaching out and catching your hand. “Still,” 

You paused, blowing out a very long breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you, or make you fly all the way out here and waste a day,”

Her eyebrows furrowed at the end of your sentence. The rapid turn in conversation. 

“I’m not wasting anything,” She said slowly. “You obviously needed someone and I’m happy I could be here for you,”

You grimaced. You didn’t deserve to have someone there for you. 

You were the one who fucked up the team. The one who ruined everything. 

“Hey,” Taylor squeezed your hand again, drawing your eyes back to her, like she could read your thoughts. “No time I spend with you is a waste,”

Red flooded your cheeks, up to your ears, and you tried to hide it with a sip of your too-hot coffee. 

She smiled gently at you, looking at the microwave clock behind you. “But we can talk about that later. You have to get ready for practice,” 

“I’m not going,” You scoffed, taking another sip. “There’s no point,” 

“Y/n, avoiding practice isn’t going to fix what’s happening,” She said, her voice patient.  “It’ll only make it worse,” 

A dark look crossed your features. 

“It can’t get worse,” You said, your voice too calm. Too dangerous. “I’ve already been told I won’t be fielding for the rest of the season, and Mallory Pugh has been called into camp to replace me. My soccer career is over at the ripe old age of 19,” 

Despite your efforts to hide it, she could still hear the misery in your voice. The utter defeat. 

Her head tilted to the side, and she took a strategic sip of her coffee. “I thought you didn’t lose?” 

You shook your head. “This is different,” 

You couldn’t fight the system. Not when it was so dead set on driving you out. 

If only you could be like your perfect older sister. 

“Is it though?” She asked, too nonchalantly. “Prove them wrong. Show up and shove it in their faces,” 

You sighed. You knew exactly what she was doing. You always responded better to challenges than to comfort. 

Plus if you left, you weren’t sure Taylor would be here when you returned, and you preferred spending time with her over a useless practice anyway. 

“And I’ll be waiting here for you after practice,” She added as if sensing one of the reasons for your hesitation. “We can grab some dinner and hang out. But first, you need to go kick some ass. It’ll make you feel better anyway,”

You took another long sip of your coffee, before nodding begrudging. 

She was right. Skipping practice would only make things worse, even if going would suck anyway. 

OoOoOoO

“Rough night?” Christen smirked at you, bumping your shoulder as you jogged onto the practice field, fixing your practice jersey. 

You shrugged, sending the striker a half smile. “Something like that,”

She caught the collar of your practice jersey, peeking at the skin underneath it. “I don’t see any hickeys so it couldn’t have been too bad,” 

You batted her hand away, unable to stop the smile that accompanied your rolled eyes. “I don’t have any. I didn’t hook up last night,”

She raised her eyebrow at you. 

It was rare you skipped a team thing unless it was for a girl, even when you weren’t on the bench. She knew that you had been bedhopping more to cope with the loss at the Olympics and the tenuous situation with both the national team and Chicago that you found yourself in. 

She supposed it was a way for you to distract yourself, even if she didn’t think it was what was best for you. 

“Roary was pissed you weren’t at the game,” She said instead of pushing. You were an adult, and what you did off the field was really none of her business. 

“I know,” You mumbled, stepping into line behind Huerta, scratching the back of your neck, a strange look crossing your face. “I already had a meeting with him. It’s why I missed activation,” 

Christen frowned. “He wasn’t too hard on you, was he?” 

He had a reputation for being… abrasive, and Christen was aware of how many times he had been so with you. 

You shrugged again. It wasn’t like Christen could do something about how awful he was. Plus you knew Christen would report anything you said right back to Alex. 

“No more than usual,” You said, sounding uninterested.  “We actually talked about how I’ve improved since coming back from Rio,” 

While he had assigned you 8 laps after practice, overall the meeting hadn’t gone as badly as you feared. Considering how awful the Red Stars were performing with you not even allowed on the bench, you shouldn’t have been so surprised that he was sticking you back in the starting 11 for the midweek game. 

So despite his critique of your personality and playing style, he had conceded that Chicago scored more when you were on the field to service Christen. You would take it as a win. 

Christen’s eyebrows furrowed, not quite believing you. “That’s good I guess,” 

You made a low noise, watching Sofia run the drill so you knew what was happening. 

It was a simple give-and-go with the midfielders, and a shot on goal. 

It would be easy. 

And frankly, it was easy. 

Your fingers wiggled as you watched Sofia launch the ball just over the crossbar, waiting for the goalkeepers to swap so the striking coach would send you the ball. 

You let yourself sink into the drill, and just as he passed you the ball, it was like your brain turned off. You easily tapped it to Colaprico, skirting around Krueger and turning just in time to receive the through ball the midfielder sent back. 

It only took a little flick of your heel to get past Naeher, and send the ball into the back of the net, and head to the back of the other line with little fanfare. 

“Nice shot,” JJ reached out her hand for a low five as you passed her, and you tilted your chin at her as you passed, a smile playing on your lips. 

Taylor had been right, playing did make you feel better. 

And you didn’t have to think about the butterflies her presence sent flying in your stomach. 

“Maybe you have the Morgan gene after all,” Roary said gruffly, stepping onto the practice pitch, his hand landing heavily on your shoulder.

Your back went straight and the hint of a smile slid off your face. 

“I might be able to make an acceptable attacking midfielder of you yet,” He continued, oblivious to how rigid your posture was. 

Christen cleared her throat, casually stepping between the two of you and forcing him to let go. “That was a really good goal. I bet you and Al could make that work for the national team too,”

“Hm,” You made a low noise of agreement, looking away from her. 

You didn’t want to say that with your reputation, you doubted you would ever get a call up again. You were pretty sure Jill already blacklisted you anyway.

“We’ll have to see about that,” Roary chuckled, and his hand found your shoulder again, squeezing tightly. “A few extra film sessions could help,” 

A shiver ran down your spine. You hated film sessions, especially with Roary, but you nodded anyway. 

It wasn’t like you had a choice. Roary always got what he wanted.

He squeezed your shoulder one more time before heading off to harass someone else, but you knew he would be back. You were one of his favorite targets. 

“You know you don’t have to do sessions with him,” Christen said when he was out of earshot, and you looked away. 

She could never understand that you couldn’t say no to him. That your precariousness with both the Red Stars and the USWNT meant that you couldn’t piss off a coach. It meant that you were at his mercy, even if you didn’t want to admit it. 

“He’s an asshole, but he has some good insights,” You said, watching as JJ ran the opposite side of the drill with Huerta. 

Christen used a finger under your chin to force you to look back at her. “That’s not what I asked you,” 

“I know Chris,” You said with too much force, jerking away from her. “I can handle Dames. Right now, I need all the help I can get to show Jill that I deserve my fucking spot. If he wants to help, then so be it,” 

She paused, her hand still hovering in the air where your chin had been. 

“Ok,” She said slowly, her eyebrows furrowing while she tried to decipher your overreaction. “I just wanted to make sure,” 

You swallowed hard, moving up in line. “I know. Sorry, I snapped. I was up late,”

Her lips tilted into a teasing smirk. “Ah yes, you got fucked to get over how Roary fucked you out of your starting spot,”

You threw your head back and groaned, red coloring your cheeks as the line around you erupted in giggles. 

You would never outlive your… reputation, but that was ok because at least it stopped Christen from asking too many questions. Questions that would make their way back to your sister.

They would never believe that the girl who had distracted you wasn’t one you were currently sleeping with anyway. 

“Morgan, you’re up,” The striking coach said, his voice sobering your teammates. “Let’s see if you can do the other half of the drill as well as you did the first,” 

You easily stopped the ball he passed your way, winking towards McCaffrey. “I’ll do better. There’s a reason I’m a midfielder after all,” 

You would have to thank Taylor for making you practice. She was right, it did make you feel better, and you were on your way to proving why you were one of the best in the world.

OoOoOoO

“I can’t believe you’ve never had a burrito before,” You said, biting into your chicken and queso concoction. 

It had been an easy decision to grab Chipotle after practice, one you hadn’t really thought about until the text came through that Taylor didn’t know what to order. 

That she had never been to one of your favorite post-practice restaurants. 

“I’ve just never gotten around to it. They’re not common in Nashville,” She hummed, delicately biting into her own streak and bean creation. “How was practice,” 

You scrunched your nose but decided that pointing out that Chipotle was a national chain (and that you and Emily had eaten at one when you played Australia in Nashville) wasn’t worth it. You felt like there was something… off about her relationship with food, but you didn’t know if you were close enough to be able to bring it up. 

You honestly didn’t know if you were just friends, because the way she looked at you felt like you were edging on something more. 

“Fine,” Your shoulder lifted and fell as you took another bite and swallowed. You grabbed a chip from your bag, shoving it in the top of your burrito. “Apparently I’m starting tomorrow,”

Taylor frowned. “That feels like quite the jump from being left off the roster,” 

She wasn’t entirely sure how the whole selection process worked for roster and starting lineups (despite her recent research into the topic), but it felt very weird for you to go from essentially not on the team to one of the people who would carry it through the game. 

You made a low sound of agreement, swallowing. “I have a feeling it was ownership’s call,” 

Taylor raised an eyebrow at you, clearly asking for a more comprehensive explanation. 

“We lost like 6-0,” You explained. “And our media guy said that the attendance dropped by 40% because I wasn’t on the bench,” 

It was one of the few concessions that Roary made. The team hadn’t been able to break through North Carolina’s midfield without your creativity or ability to draw defenders. They hadn’t been able to supply the forwards or stop the line-breaking balls Zerboni kept sending through, and ultimately it led to a complete creaming of your team. 

They needed you on the field, no matter how loath he was to admit it. That’s why you assumed Armin had overridden the coach's judgment. 

The team brought in less money when they lost. 

Taylor nodded in understanding and the two of you lapsed into silence, slowly munching on your respective burritos. 

“I can’t believe you have a game 2 days apart,” She said after a few minutes. “Doesn’t seem to leave you a lot of time to recover,”

You tilted your head. “The league wants to squeeze in as many matches as they can before the international break,”

“That seems reasonable,” Taylor said, seemingly agreeing with you. 

It didn’t, but the league (and the owners) weren’t really concerned with your health. You were basically a trading card designed to bring them more money. 

You played with the foil around your burrito, biting your lip. “I um… I have an extra pass if you want to come watch,” 

She paused, her grin dipping into a frown. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Going out somewhere isn’t always easy,”

Not that she was sure anyone even knew she was in Chicago. So far, there hadn’t been any talk on social media of her impromptu trip, and she had no intention of that changing. 

She didn’t need the space in front of your apartment becoming a circus. Not with the horrible things the press had been saying about her. 

“The seat is in a box, so no one would see you if you decided you wanted to go, and you can use the player’s entrance,” You explained, trying to seem like you didn’t care what her answer would be. Trying to pretend like you wouldn’t care if she decided not to one. “No cameras are allowed in the tunnels,”

Her lips pressed very tightly together, seemingly seeing through your facade. “I just don’t want to take away from your game,” 

“You can’t distract from the match,” You shrugged. “There will already be crazy speculation because I’m on the roster, and the Camp call-ups haven’t been made public yet,” 

She hummed. She knew that the media that you dealt with was different, but still vicious nonetheless. 

Instead of picking apart your outfit choice or your performances on stage, they tore apart your play. They ripped your soccer skills apart and compared you to your sister at every turn. 

“I think it’s horrible that they’re focusing so much on one play,” 

It was still difficult for her to wrap her head around how a singular moment had seemingly derailed your entire career, but then again a single misconstrued phone call had derailed hers. 

You shrugged. It was nothing when compared to what Taylor was dealing with. “At least they’re attacking me for something I actually did. I ended my soccer career with a single kick. You’re being punished for a man’s lies,”

Taylor nodded slowly, taking another bite of her burrito. 

She didn’t think either circumstance was fair, but that was the position that you were both in. You were trapped by your coaches and she was trapped by perception. 

The only thing either of you could do was control the things you could, and enjoy the ride. Everything would even out eventually. 

“I’ll come to your game,” She said, not just because she knew it would make you happy, but also because she wasn’t ready to leave yet, and going to the game would mean spending more time with you. 

Plus, there was no way she would miss seeing you so in your element in person. Not when it was so ridiculously attractive on screen. 

Your whole face lit up. “Really?”

She couldn’t help but smile too. “Yeah, it should be fun,” 

Even if the paparazzi got wind of it, seeing you look so happy for the first time since you returned from Brazil would make it worth it. 

“It’ll be great. I’ll even make sure to score for you,” You said, wiggling excitedly as you cleaned up your burrito wrapper and held the bag up for her as Art and Apollo both sniffed at it (she was shocked they hadn’t even begged for scraps earlier). 

“If you do, you’ve gotta do the backflip celebration,” She chucked, tossing the aluminum wrapped from her burrito into the bag. “That one’s my favorite,” 

You paused, your grin morphing into a mischievous smirk at the mention of your very famous goal celebration. 

“For sure,” You said with your signature wink, and Taylor couldn’t help but burst into laughter. “I’ll do a double if I get a hat trick, just for you,” 

It took a second for her peels of laughter to dissolve into shorter giggles and for her to catch her breath. It was so strange to have the look you always sent fans directed at her. The look she was sure had landed you most of your famous hookups. 

Though it kind of melted her heart that you only used it on her in a comedic sense. That it shifted back to the look she liked to think you saved just for her as soon as her giggles filled the air. 

“Do you want to watch something before dinner?” You asked, sobering and shifting awkwardly on the couch. “The pups and I thought a pillow fort would be cool,” 

Taylor hummed, leaning her chin on her hand. “I think that sounds incredible,” 

The little fist pump you gave was adorable, as was the way the dogs hopped around you, and in that moment she knew. 

When she looked back on this moment, it would be the one she would point to as the moment she knew she was in love. 

OoOoOoO

Taylor had been to a lot of places in her life. She had played down the road from Seat Geek Stadium in Chicago many times. 

But she had never gotten to see this side of the city. 

She had never gotten to be normal and watch a game without hordes of people screaming for her attention. She hadn’t even needed to use the special player entrance. The stadium attendants had escorted them to the box with zero fanfare, and she felt safe sitting in the open area of the box with the promise that the cameras rarely panned it. 

She didn’t even regret not bringing extra security like she thought she would. 

Her heart also fluttered each time you glanced up at the box, smiling impossibly wider each time she waved.  

It was like the little lanyard pass you had given her (and Tony) was an invisibility cloak.

It was an addictive feeling to be so… free. To be hidden to the rest of the world but so visible to you. 

“She’s really on fire tonight,” Tony said, glancing over at the game clock. 

You had only been on the field for 15 minutes, and you had already scored twice. 

“She’s got a lot to prove,” Taylor hummed, leaning forward in her seat as you slotted another better ball between the two opposing team’s defenders. “This is the first time she’s gotten to play since the Olympics,” 

You had already told her that you probably wouldn’t get to play the full first half anyway. Your coach was stuck on the penalty you took in Brazil just like the rest of the world was, even if Taylor didn’t see a point in basing your playtime off of it. 

That meant you had limited minutes to prove to them that you deserved to be on the pitch. To make them regret not starting you in other games, 

Tony’s head tilted as number 23 played a quick pass back to you and the ball buried itself into the back of the net with just the tap of your toes for your 3rd goal of the evening. 

It looked easy. Fluid. Even when he knew it was anything but. 

You smiled as the crowd went absolutely wild, tipping an invisible hat towards the bench. 

“I think it has more to do with who’s here,” Tony countered, gesturing towards where you winking towards the player's box was replaying on the Jumbotron. 

She shrugged, ignoring the slight red creeping up her cheeks and his sideways glance. “The team has so much more energy when she’s on the field,” 

Even as the teams got ready to reset, you bounced on your toes, twisting your hips in a way that reminded her of the shake it off dance  and saying words Taylor couldn’t hear to your teammates. Words she was sure were organizing your offense. Words she knew would help you continue to shred your former team, even if she herself wouldn’t understand them (watching a game with you had been like listening to a foreign language as you yelled at the screen, unwilling to translate until it was over). 

“She’s the focal point of their offense,” Tony agreed, deciding not to comment further on Taylor’s blush. “But tonight she’s playing more flashy than she normally plays,” 

Taylor hummed. He was right. 

From what she had seen, you were not generally a selfish player. You liked to serve balls on a platter to make your team look good. You liked to pull defenders and set your strikers up. 

Tonight you hadn’t done that. 

Tonight you had taken the chances for yourself, putting them in the back of the net and making sure the league knew exactly what you were capable of. You wanted to show them how dangerous you could be. 

“She’s proving a point,” Taylor reiterated. 

“I don’t disagree,” Tony said as you slotted a very nice through pass past the first defender, and the second just barely poked it out for a corner kick. You glanced up towards the box as you took your position, a little smirk on your face. “I’m just not sold that she’s only proving a point to the coaching staff, her teammates and the reporters,” 

Taylor’s head tilted. 

It was true that while you didn’t play flashy, you did like to tease the fans (and whoever had caught your eye that week). You knew their obsession with you, and you never missed an opportunity to play it up. 

But this felt different. 

You hadn’t been winking at anyone on the field, or in the stands. The only place you kept looking was over towards the coaching staff and up at her. 

“She doesn’t have anything to prove to me,” She said, sitting back in her chair as your header landed in the keeper's hands. 

Tony smirked. “I know that and you know that,” 

Taylor made a low noise, her eyes flitting to the sideline where the 4th official was getting ready with the sub-board. “I think she knows that too,”

You trudged to the sideline when your number came up, using your jersey to wipe your mouth (flashing your abs to the crowd) and glancing up at the clock. 

Taylor followed your eyes, frowning at the large 25 on the screen. 

It was stupid to take you off when you were playing so well, and the booing from the crowd echoed her sentiment. The fans were about as happy as you looked about coming off, even if it was already expected. 

You ignored your replacement and brushed off the coach's hand, glaring at him as you took the pinny from one of the equipment managers. 

There was an odd friction between you and the man, one that brought out a fierceness and an anger that countered your normally sunny personality. But then again, your personality was much different when you were on the field anyway. 

There was a confidence and swagger about you that made butterflies erupt in her stomach. That made her want you in a way that should make her feel uncomfortable. 

But even now, the way you signed autographs for the fans behind the bench reminded her that you were still you. You were still the sweet and shy, not the cocky character you played on the field (even if she was rather sexy). 

This version of you was the one that melted her heart. 

“She might know that, but I think she wants to impress you anyway,” Tony said, drawing her attention back to him. “It’s cute,” 

Taylor raised an eyebrow at him, clearing her throat and trying to ignore the warmth that moved from her cheeks up to her ears. “Shut up,” 

He chuckled, settling back in his seat, ready for the rest of the game (even if it had considerably slowed down now that you weren’t playing). He had a feeling that he would get to witness many more of your interactions in the future and that he would get to see your insane footwork on the field again if the look on Taylor’s face was anything to go by. 

Getting to see the two of you actually interact together had to be just as adorable, and he was looking forward to it. 

OoOoOoO

You sighed, leaning back on the couch, scratching Orion’s head where he rested it in your lap, just above your air therapy boots, and changing the channel for the 30th time. 

You weren’t actually watching the television, but you thought that some background noise would help alleviate the odd emptiness that had overtaken your apartment. It was quiet in a way you hadn’t expected now that Taylor (and Tony) were gone, and it made you feel like there was a little piece of you missing. 

Post-game recovery was always your least favorite part of the process. It always gave you too much time to think and to worry. To dissect every movement you made on the field. 

But now it also gave you too much time to miss Taylor. 

You understood why she had to leave after a quick congratulations after the game. You knew she was busy and that she needed to be in New York to record. 

That didn’t mean that a part of you didn’t wish she had stayed. 

You shook your head, shifting on the couch (much to Orion's annoyance). 

You weren’t supposed to get attached to Taylor. To people in general, really. 

Experience taught you that they would all leave eventually, no matter what they said or how much they promised you they wouldn’t. 

Your parents forgot about your existence when Alex started getting called up to the U20 team. Alex left you for college and was too wrapped up in her new life to remember you existed either. Your friends all left when they realized that you weren’t worth the effort.

 And Taylor…

She would leave too when she found out about the feelings you harbored for her. 

She would write a song about how you ruined your friendship because you were too selfish to accept that she would never feel like you did. Even if she didn’t, she would leave once she saw how fucked up you really were. 

Still, the little voice in your brain fixated on the chemistry between the two of you. On the moments where you caught her staring at your abs during the game, or how you would swear she was staring at your lips when you met her in the tunnel afterward. 

But she couldn’t like you that way, and if she did it was something more than a sexual curiosity. 

You blew out another breath. 

It wasn’t that you hadn’t crossed that line with your friends before, you had, but you didn’t want it to be like that with Taylor. You didn’t want her to be a fuck buddy or a one night stand that she would regret later. 

You couldn’t cross that line without her leaving you, but you weren’t even sure if there was a line to cross. Hell, you had never had a real relationship so you weren’t even sure if you had already crossed it. 

Did friends do the things you and Taylor did? Did friends fly cross country to help? Did they cuddle in pillow forts? 

You were just… lost. 

You had never felt so… attached before. 

You let your head fall back on the couch with a low thump. You didn’t know what to do, and you couldn’t call the person you normally would (Kelley) because she would tell Alex. 

You grabbed your phone from the edge of the couch, scrolling through your contacts until you found one of the few who weren’t ignoring you for missing the PK. One of the few who you trusted (even if you would get the shit teased out of you). 

You paused, your finger hovering over Emily’s picture. 

She would know what to do. She always knew what to do. 

It took you another second to gain the courage to actually press the call button, and you worried your bottom lip as it started to ring. 

She was definitely going to make fun of you. 

“I need your help,” You said as soon as Emily’s face appeared on the screen. 

“Hello Emily, how are you? I’m fine, thank you so much for asking,” 

“Emily,” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose, but she just raised her eyebrows expectantly in response. Your shoulders sank. “Hello Emily, how are you?” 

“I’m doing great,” She smiled cheekily back at you. “Now what’s up?”

You ran a hand through your hair, rubbing over the short curls at the back of your neck, trying to mask how nervous you were. 

“I..-“ You stuttered, looking away. “There’s a girl, and I like her, but I have no clue what’s happening or what’s supposed to happen next,” 

She squinted at you. “Are you dating this girl?”

“No,” You breathed out, dragging your hand from your hair to press into your forehead. “I don’t think so. She’s my friend. She’s straight, but there’s all this weird tension, and I’m not sure if she would ever want to date me. I doubt it, cause like I said she’s straight. But she’s really really pretty and we cuddle and I like her a lot but i-“ 

“Y/n,” Emily said, cutting you off mid-ramble, a playful smile pulling at her lips. 

You blinked at her. “Yeah?”

“Let’s just start at the beginning,” She leaned forward, towards the phone, accentuating each syllable. “And talk at a pace where I can actually understand you,” 

“I…I got drunk and missed a game,” You swallowed down your blush and looked away from her raised eyebrow.  “She flew to Chicago to see me because she was worried, and I bought her her first burrito-,” 

“She’s never had a burrito before? What kind of person hasn’t had a burrito?” Emily snorted, and you felt the tension in your chest relax a little. 

You shrugged. “She said she never had one before. She liked it a lot,”

Emily’s head tilted in question, but she waved her hand. “Ok, carry on with your story,” 

You swallowed hard, focusing on how your fingers dug into the spot at the back of your neck“She came to check on me and convinced me to go to practice. I bought her a burrito, and we had Thai for dinner. 

“Did she sleep over?” She asked you, her pointer finger tapping her bottom lip. 

You nodded slowly. “Yeah. The huskies cuddled up with us in a pillow fort and we both fell asleep to survivor,” 

Emily sighed, sending you a pointed look. That wasn’t what she had been asking. “But you didn’t sleep together?” 

Red instantly colored your cheeks, and the pads of your fingers dug further into the muscles at the base of your skull. “Not in the um… traditional sense,” 

You looked away from her, unable to meet her eyes. You couldn’t have Taylor in that way. She didn’t want you. 

And if you crossed that boundary (like you had with only one other person who was a friend) then you knew you would lose her. 

You weren’t ready for that. 

But at the same time, you didn’t know how to not cross it. Not with the feelings still bubbling in your chest. 

Emily’s eyes narrowed. “Is she still there?” 

“No, she had to go back to New York after the game,” You shook your head. “And we’re going to meet up again while you all are at came because there’s a break,” 

Despite how much you didn’t want her to go, you understood that she had responsibilities and music to record, but that didn’t stop the way your chest ached now that she was gone. 

It didn’t stop the confusion racing around your brain. 

Emily stared at you like you had grown 3 heads. “A girl flew to Chicago for you, waited at your shitty apartment while you were at practice, let you bring her lunch and take her out to dinner, then attended a shitty Red Stars game and you still don’t know if she’s into you,” 

You sighed, weaving your fingers through the too-long curls at the base of your neck and tugging. 

“She’s my friend, Emily,” You grit out. 

She raised an eyebrow at you. “The same friend who answers every time you call her,” 

You tugged harder. “You don’t understand,”

Taylor was like that with all of her friends. She made everyone feel like they were the only person she could see. The only person who mattered when she was with them. 

“I understand just fine,” She snorted. “You’re such a dumbass,” 

You sent her a withering glare. “Emily be serious, please,”

She held her hand up in defense. “I am being serious. You’ve been on at least 2 dates, and she invited you to her place. All before the two of you have hooked up. If that doesn’t scream dating, or the desire to be dating, then I don’t know what will,”

You shook your head, dragging your fingers up through your hair and down your face. 

This was why you hadn’t wanted to call Emily. Why Kelley or Alex would have been a much better option. 

“This is not why I called you,” You mumbled. 

“Then what is?” She asked, sounding amused. 

“I…-“ You bit your lip and finally looked up at her, meeting her eyes through the phone. “I don’t know how any of this works, and I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do next,” 

“Well, at some point a conversation should happen where you define what you two are doing,” She said slowly, her voice turning soft but serious. “but other than that, I think you just go with it,”

You squinted. “Just go with it?”

What was her brilliant advice to your crisis? To just… let whatever was going to happen happen. 

“Yeah, if you’re into it and she’s into it, just be into it, together,” She shrugged. “It doesn’t have to be complicated,” 

Part of you wanted to yell that it already was complicated. That you couldn’t cross a line and lose her like you’d lost everyone else. But you didn’t. 

“Ok,” You said. “Thank you,” 

Emily smiled brilliantly back at you. “No problem, I’ll see you soon,”

You stared at the black screen of the phone as she ended the call. 

Maybe she was right. Maybe you just had to go with it and trust your gut. 

Maybe it would all be ok if you didn’t overthink it. That’s why you were good at hookups after all wasn’t it? 

[hyunsvngs]

kinktober !

kink: pegging

pairing: seo changbin x fem!reader

wc: 2.7k

pegging: in which someone penetrates another person's anus, usually with a strap-on dildo.

Excited was an understatement.

You were well-known. When you’d first started, you’d only been a camgirl recruited by the agency and had never had sex with another person on camera. It was liberating managing to do that, and even more liberating when the money started flowing in. You started having sex with bigger and bigger stars, and the amounts of money got unbelievable. However, today was the day you’d been waiting for.

Seo Changbin was another star in your agency. You hadn’t gotten the chance to film with him yet, because your schedules were always too packed, but you were a resident viewer of his videos. He wasn’t quite dominant, more of a passionate lover when he put his co-stars in a headlock with his muscled arms, but it made your clit throb nonetheless. You couldn’t wait to have him.

Except, not everything worked out the way you’d expected - that’s not to say it wasn’t in your favour. The agency had decided on a Halloween shoot, two of their biggest stars fucking on camera while dressed up in some raunchy costumes. You’d heard the premise and agreed on the script, but when you heard the plans they had for you… well, that was really a game changer.

A Playboy bunny skit was one thing, but a skit where you weren’t the bunny, but Changbin was? Now, that intrigued you. It had you flipping through the script to imagine it differently. He’d be in a pretty little black bodysuit, pushing those muscled pecs up and with cute ears perched on his head atop a headband. It sounded perfect. All you had to do was play the part of his dominant, the woman who was going to fuck his brains out with her biggest strap-on. It was easy.

It didn’t seem easy when you saw him. You thought you were going to go insane. Prior to the shoot, you’d been put in a pink satin dressing gown, soft ivory cotton adorning the wrists and the hemline. Obviously, you had nothing on underneath, and Changbin stood by the doorway to your dressing room, all muscled arms bulging over his bodysuit and a cut-out in the fabric showing some very appealing cleavage. Your jaw dropped.

“Hi,” He was shy, embarrassed despite bouncing over to you like he really was a little bunny. His ears shifted and he huffed, pressing the headband down onto his dark, curly hair. Your makeup artist fiddled around with your own hair, trying to get it perfect for the shoot. “I thought I’d introduce myself. We’ve never really crossed paths. I’m Changbin.”

You licked your lips, nodding to ground yourself. Be yourself. Be cheeky, be nice. “Hello. It’s so nice to meet you. It looks like we’ll be co-stars today, huh? Are you excited?” Damn, did you have to sound so formal?

Changbin hopped from one foot to the other, eventually settling on crossing his broad arms over his just-as-broad chest. “I’m a little nervous, to be honest. I’ve, uh… I’ve bottomed before, been pegged and whatever, but never on camera. I guess I just wanted to ask you to go easy on me.”

“I’m not going to go easy on you,” You blurted. Even your makeup artist paused. Changbin’s eyes widened. “No. No, what I meant was, like- you look good. You look hot, Changbin. I’d be lucky to peg you. I am- I am lucky to peg you.”

It’s just sinking in. You’re going to peg him, and you’re terrified you’re going to cum untouched. You’ve already forgotten the script.

“Oh! Heh,” He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, staring at the floor with a smug, downturned grin. “Right. You’re hot too, by the way. Really hot. I’ve been looking forward to shooting with you, and since I found out the premise, well… I’ve kinda been looking forward to it even more. Is that weird?”

“Not weird at all, me too,” You gushed. Changbin finally reverted his eyes to you, a real, toothy smile adorning his face when he saw how excited you really were. “Have you- um, have you… y’know. Prepped?”

Changbin blushed, a crimson shade covering his cheeks. He was so cute, you thought you were going to have a heart attack before the cameras even switched on. “It’s a surprise. You’ll like it. The surprise, I mean.”

“I’ll like everything else, too,” You nodded solemnly. Changbin giggled, a chiming overtaking the room. You blinked when he turned around and bounced out of your dressing room, and your makeup artist sounded like she was choking back a laugh. You groaned. “Don’t.”

She grinned. “I didn’t say anything, honey.”

When you arrived at the set, Changbin was already there. The set was cute, at least, fairy lights adorning the walls and bed sheets a blush baby pink. He looked cute too, laying on the bed scrolling through his phone as if he wasn’t dressed like the best bunny you’ve ever seen. You fucking loved Halloween.

You crawled onto the bed regardless, making Changbin jump and drop his phone. “Hi again,” You murmured, one finger running down his side. He jolted, giggling like it tickled him. “You really do look cute, Changbin.”

“Bin is fine. Even- even Binnie. I prefer Binnie-”

“Alright, quit the flirting,” Hyunjin chirped. Hyunjin was the best director you’d worked with. He didn’t mind if you went off-script, so long as it was all authentic and real. No fake orgasms, obviously. The sex had to look like art. Jeongin was his cameraman, and when you first met him, he’d been awkward and blushy - now, he looked at you with indifference apart from a cute grin on his pouty lips. You were so proud. “I know we sent you the script, but I’ve changed my mind. I want you to just kiss first, be natural, lead into whatever. Sounds good?”

That was another thing about Hyunjin. He loved to change the plans. You nodded, before briefly looking around the room. “Where’s the dick?”

“What do you mean?” Jeongin questioned, looking at Changbin. His eyes ran down to his crotch. “It’s there.”

“No, the strap-on, you idiot,” You huffed. Hyunjin giggled, before nodding towards the floor. Oh. There it was, clear as day, a bright pink strap-on that looked way too big to fit into someone comfortably. You hoped Changbin’s surprise helped him out with that.

Unsurprisingly, it did. Changbin rolled over onto his tummy and shook his ass at you teasingly with a grin, and you caught sight of a white fluffy bunny tail sticking out of a hole in his bodysuit. Oh. Oh, right. It’s a plug.

“Are you kidding me?” You gasped, reaching down to immediately grab it. Changbin jolted, eyes widening, and you took your chance. You yanked his face towards yours, pressing your lips against his in a dirty exchange of lips, teeth and spit. You briefly recognised Hyunjin and Jeongin mumbling to each other, and then the cameras switched on. You pushed Changbin back, letting his toned back rest on the bed and then you were in his lap, ignoring his whine at feeling the plug pressing in further.

You kept kissing him, unable to stop. His lips were so saccharinely sweet, and you could feel one folded-up bunny ear from his headband tickling your head. His tongue darted around your mouth and he let his hands grab at your waist, clothed erection grinding up into your naked pussy. You pulled away, smirking at him as you ran your fingers through his hair affectionately, before standing up and walking away. The cameras stayed on, recording every step you took as you crossed the room to examine your strap. You had to get to the point, or you’d be kissing him forever.

“The plug’s very cute, bunny, but do you want something bigger?” You muse, running your finger over the strap. Changbin nods, lips kiss bitten as he looks at you with teary eyes. “You want my strap, baby?”

“Y-Yeah. I- Hnng. I want your cock, please, mommy,” Changbin gushed, thick thighs spreading to allow you between them. You could see the bulge of his cock, hard and fat and pressing against the black satin of the bodysuit. You raised an eyebrow, however. The mommy kink was definitely not in the script - was he this far gone already?

You smiled and let yourself get back on the bed, strap in hand. You moved your free hand to his side, thumb tracing across his clothed hip bone. "Mommy’s going to give you what you want, sweetheart, you don’t need to beg.”

Leaning in, you pressed your lips against his once more and guided his mouth open with your tongue. You pulled away, letting out a low hum of arousal as he watched you with anticipation. Changbin’s eyes stayed glued to you, and you ignored the wetness accumulating on your folds as you let the pink robe drop, fully naked underneath. Your nipples were pebbled against the cold air, and Changbin’s gaze dropped to them, eyes widening.

“You like them, baby? Maybe you can suck on them while mommy fucks you nice and deep, yeah?” Changbin nodded, reaching out to you to pull you on top of him. You pressed your hand on his tummy softly, pressing him to the bed to calm him down. “I have to get the strap on, baby. Why don’t you take that bodysuit off for me?”

God, that was the best sentence that ever left your mouth. Changbin wriggled out of his bodysuit and he was left naked, all muscled, honey-toned skin revealed to you. His nipples were hard upon his broad chest, dark dusky peaks that begged to have your tongue running circles over them. His cock was hard against his soft tummy, short and thick and anticipating some attention - but your eyes immediately went to his cheeks. The plug stayed firmly inside his tight hole, fluffy material peeking out from tanned planes of skin. He really was the best bunny you’d ever seen.

Once the strap was firmly set on your hips, bright pink silicone alarming to the eye, you reached down to play with the plug inside his hole. He jolted, whining and spreading his thick thighs further for you, cock twitching in desperation.

“Please, please,” He huffed, chest heaving. “Please, mommy. I need something bigger, need something bigger in there, ‘s not enough, bunny needs-”

You cooed, running your thumb over his cheekbone. “Okay, okay. I’ve got you, bunny, spread nice and wide for me.”

He obliged, letting his thighs hang over his hands in a pliant, open position, and then you reached down to pull the fluffy pom-pom tail out of his hole. It slipped out, still slick with lube, and you groaned lowly at the sight.

“C’mere,” You ushered Changbin, and when he moved to come closer, you let the fake cock hang in his face. “Spit on it, bunny. We’ve got to get it wet or it’ll hurt, huh?”

Changbin moaned, nodding with urgency, and then he was sucking the tip past his lips. Oh. That’s not what you meant, but you were absolutely loving the view. He sucked half of the length into his mouth, moaning around the silicone as if it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. He was putting on a show for the cameras, you realised - you’d honestly forgotten they were there, too engrossed in the pretty bunny on display for you on this set.

You pulled the strap out of Changbin’s mouth, slapping the head a few times on his full, doll-like lips, before you were moving backwards to press it against his hole. The tip pushed in with no resistance, stretching his tight, little hole back out around the silicone. It was the rest of it that was an issue - Changbin thrashed around as the flared shaft entered him, stretching him further than the plug did and making him whine.

“‘S- ‘S big, mommy, bunny feels so good,” He huffed, cheeks blazing red. You could tell he’d lost all sense of coherence, and you understood why he’d never bottomed before on camera. He got way too into it. It stopped being porn, and started being more authentic - but then, Hyunjin liked that after all. You let your hips start to move against him, slapping against his skin, and he whined with approval.

You had to amp up the ante, though. “You’re like a bunny in heat, Binnie,” You mused, positioning yourself on your forearms above him. Changbin moaned, a guttural noise that made your pussy clench sadly around nothing. Maybe you could convince him to fuck you again after this, off camera. You thrusted into him a few more times before pulling out, making him whine at the loss. “Come and ride me. Hop on my cock like a good bunny, yeah?”

Once you were positioned on your back, Changbin scrambled to press his hole above your strap. In this position, you could see him properly, bunny ears askew and his cute cock bouncing against his tummy. He gasped as he sunk down on your strap again, the fake cock filling him up beyond belief.

“Oh. Oh, mommy, ‘s deep, deep, pressing against my, my-“ He cut himself off with a whine, hands coming to rest on your tits while he bounced. You cooed softly, hand rubbing over his thighs where they clenched with the exertion. He was quite literally bouncing like a bunny - he couldn’t stop his own movements, bunny ears flopping over his eyes and whines flooding out of his mouth. “It’s never felt this good. Oh, God, it feels so good, I need’a cum. Need to, oh, bunny needs to-“

“Ssh, ssh,” You mumbled, hand wrapping around his cock. It leaked beneath his foreskin, drippy and pearlescent as you started to pump it with a tight fist. You wanted him so bad - but this was about him. The cameras too, which you had forgotten about again. “Cum for me then. Cum on my tits, bunny, c’mon.”

Changbin wailed, hands moving to find purchase on your thighs. The change in position had him bouncing quicker, and you accompanied it with pumps of his cock at the same pace.

“G’na cum for mommy,” He mumbled, cheeks blazing crimson. It took two more bounces and you rubbed your thumb over his slit. When he keened, fingernails digging into your skin, you took that as your cue and aimed his cockhead at your tits. “Cumming! Bunny’s cumming, cumming, fuck!”

You watched in awe as his cock spurted out thick ropes of white cum, smothering your tits in the warm liquid. He gasped and writhed on the strap through his orgasm, hips slowing to a soft grind and eyebrows furrowing. You pumped him a few more times, letting him ride out his orgasm, and then you let his softening cock go for some reprieve. With one finger, you swept up his cum from your skin and sucked it into your mouth, humming at the salty taste.

Changbin huffed out a breath, collapsing on top of you unceremoniously. His headband slid upon his dark hair again and you giggled, pulling it off of his head altogether to run your fingers through it.

“Okay, wow,” Hyunjin huffed. You blinked hazily towards him, seeing him and Jeongin stood there with dropped jaws. “Okay. Okay.”

Jeongin giggled, pressing a few buttons on the camera. He grabbed Hyunjin’s wrist, starting to drag him out of the room despite the fact that the elder man seemed rooted to the spot. “I’ll take him away. You guys did great, just chill for a minute.”

Changbin giggled against your neck, and then he shifted his hips, letting the fake cock drop out. On autopilot, you rubbed your thumb over his gaping rim, grinning when he jolted and gasped.

“You really didn’t take it easy on me, huh?” Changbin said, shaking his head in disbelief.

You burst out laughing, chest shaking. “I did warn you,” You began, and then you felt awkward. He was snuggled up to your chest, sated and relaxed as if it was home, so… could you ask him? “Bin. Do you want to, like… go on a date sometime?”

Changbin perked up at that, looking at you with his usual downturned smile. “I’d love to.”

[nadvs]

love the basketball!rafe blurbs <333 I was wondering if I can request a blurb where the reader and rafe are still dating and he’s in the NBA, but reader numbs into max like running errands and he tries to hit on her only to find out that she’s still with rafe. whether she has to tell him or rafe comes around the corner mid convo 🌚

thank you so much!! OMG LOVE THIS 🤭

based on this fic

» au masterlist

“they raised the price on this,” she whines.

“on what?”

she points her phone to her favorite snack in the campus grocery store aisle. tomorrow’s the first day of the school year and she’s loading up on food for her dorm.

“so annoying,” she mutters.

“need me to send you money?” rafe offers, his voice low in her airpods. she looks down at her phone screen, meeting his eyes again over facetime.

“i can take care of myself, but thank you, sugar daddy,” she says sarcastically.

“call me that again,” he says slowly.

“shut up,” she laughs.

“how much is it?”

“i shouldn’t have said anything,” she sighs. she puts the box in her cart, because she knows the transfer notification will inevitably come up on her phone.

her boyfriend was already well off before, but now that he’s signed with the nba, he’s even more generous with how much he spoils her.

they’ve been long distance for nearly five months. she’s starting her final year of college while he plays ball states away, but they’ve gotten into the groove of making sure they talk on the phone enough.

long distance was hard at first. but she feels like they’ve finally figured it out.

she turns into the next aisle, then meets eyes with someone she’d really rather not see.

“hey,” he says.

“max.” she only says his name so rafe knows who she just ran into. “hi.”

“still your guilty pleasure, huh?”

her ex points at the box of snacks in her cart. she must have mentioned it to him when they were dating. funny how he remembers, but she doesn’t.

“not really guilty,” she says. she looks down at her phone. rafe’s clear irritation is kind of entertaining. “just a pleasure.”

“right,” max says. “how was your summer?”

“great.” she’d rather keep this short. “i’m in a rush.”

she tries to wheel her cart away but he stops her.

“hey,” max says. “listen, i wanted to say i’m sorry. i know when we broke up, things got kind of tense.”

“tense,” she repeats. “you mean when you started talking shit about me to anyone who’d listen?”

she hears rafe’s chuckle in her ear. she was already a no-nonsense type of person, but being with rafe has made her even more confrontational.

she hated that max told the whole team what a traitor she was for hooking up with rafe. he even turned some of the girls on her squad against her.

max looks away nervously.

“yeah,” he says. “i messed things up with you and i was bitter about it. i didn’t deal with it so great.”

“sure didn’t.”

“is there a chance…” he shuffles in his spot. “this is out of left-field, but could we… go for coffee or something? maybe try this again? i’m not an asshole anymore. i promise.”

she stills, blinking at max.

“oh, my fucking god,” rafe laughs in her ear. “did he just ask you out? put me on speaker.”

she wordlessly disconnects her airpods.

“i’m on the phone,” she tells max, holding it out with the screen facing out. “with my boyfriend.”

“oh,” max says awkwardly, eyes wide when he sees rafe. “i didn’t know you guys were… uh…”

“you done hitting on my girl, hammond?” rafe says.

“i’ll see you around,” max says, pushing past her.

“hope not,” rafe mutters.

“god,” she whispers with a laugh, connecting her airpods again. “that was so awkward.”

rafe smirks at his screen as he lounges on his couch, listening to his girlfriend’s sweet laughter over the phone.

he’s had a hard day. training killed him. his coach was relentless. tomorrow’s only the second game of the season and he’s still feeling the pressure to prove himself. on top of everything, he misses his girl so bad it hurts.

but he has something a lot of guys would kill for. and this was a good reminder of how lucky he is.

[marymary-diva17]

My son my boy

loak x mom reader + sully family

Lo'ak sully had always felt like he was the black sheep of his family, or maybe his father less favorite child as she could never do anything the way his father and mother wanted. He was always messing up and will never be like his golden brother neteyam or his wonderful sisters. There were a little few that saw him for himself and one of them is you his mom, you knew your sons struggles and the times he tries to be the perfect son for his father and mom. He had always tried to be the perfect child for the clan and everyone else but it always seem to fail. As he had never did it the way they had wanted he was not up to their standards. This patterns of being called the less perfect child and freak will follow him into his teen years.

Y/n " Jake can we talk for moment"

Jake " yes my love I always will give up time for you"

y/n " thank you I need to talk with you about something important"

Jake " what is that about"

y/n " lo'ak we most talk about him" Jake soon looked and you and sighed heavily, this had gotten you attention.

y/n " look Jake I wish you will just hear hime out for a bit and understand him, verse looking down on him and down playing his actions"

Jake " his actions always lead to trouble or failure"

y/n " Jake he is your son"

Jake " well I'm being honest y/n that boy is nothing but trouble at times and dangerous, always dragging his siblings into dangers or trouble he nearly got neteyam killed twice and his sister kidnapped and hurt"

y/n " he means well you have to see that Jake"

Jake " well we are lucky enough his actions didn't get us and our clan kicked out after he put tsireya, aonung, and rotox lives in endanger for saying that outcast"

y/n " that so called outcast saved our sons life and is his spirt brother, and dear friend as well"

Jake " well if I dear son knew well he would listen to what tonowari and all these other oloeythans told him and saved away, from payakan because of him we nearly lost neteyam and many other lives as well ... because of him we all had to flee our homes and now the reef navi have lost their creatures and some of their homes"

y/n " Jake that our son you are speaking about like that, don't you hear yourself"

Jake " you don't understand we have to stop letting him get away with everything he does he bring shame to the family"

y/n "he bring shame to you but never to me"

Jake " I have no time to fight with you on this I have to meet up with neytiri, because we have more important stuff to do verse causing problems" Jake soon walked away from you and you were standing there mad, it was good that all the other kids were away at the moment.

later that day

tuk " mama mama"

y/n "tuk baby what the matter"

tuk " there trouble on the beach come on" tuk soon dragged you towards the beach where you saw lo'ak standing alone as everyone was looking at him.

y/n " lo'ak what happened" you ran to lo'ak aid and you were now looking at him.

lo'ak " hey mama"

ronal " that boy was caught with payakan once again out on the water"

y/n " yes I knew that he told me he was going to see payakan"

ronal " you knew of this behavior and actions and encourage it"

y/n " yes payakan is friendly and harmless his actions in the past shouldn't reflect him now"

tonowari " your son was seen with payakan and some other tulkun is seems, like he was trying to get payakan accepted again"

y/n " lo'ak"

lo'ak " well mama you said some people should be given a second chance, and I was hoping that will apply for payakan he shouldn't be hated forever"

y/n " oh lo'ak"

navi women " so it the mother fault not raising her son right"

y/n " my son mean no harm just hear him out and let him explain"

tonowari " that boy has done enough damage getting my daughter kidnapped by the demons, along with my sons hunted down as well nearly killed"

y/n " they all went to save payakan lo'ak was not going to let payakan be hunted down and saved him ... in the end payakan saved all the kdis lives"

ronal " that boy cares about no one she but himself he nearly got his brother killed twice I have been told, and he could of gotten more killed as well"

y/n " he a child he mean good"

jaek " enough"

lo'ak " if you all will listen to me for chance you will see payakan is good and fought for a good reason he, didnt mean to get anyone killed or hurt all those years ago"

Jake " I said enough" Jake was soon looking at you and lo'ak and he was mad.

Jake " enough both of you bringing shame upon me and neytiri, disrespecting everyone and their wishes"

y/n " Jake "

Jake " I said enough"

lo'ak " dad please you have to understand I was trying to help be like you a god warrior and leader"

neytiri " you are far from that boy I pray to eywa I don't have the mood to rip out the eyes of my youngest son"

y/n " you will not do that neytiri"

navi male " now I see the issue the boy mother allows him to be like this, because she as well lack discipline"

navi women 2 " the boy is like his mother there no lying their"

y/n " Jake and neytiri are you going to let them speak to our son like that, lo'ak if you son as well"

neytiri " he is your son I have my children neteyam, kiri, and tuk your son keeps on causing trouble nearly got mines killed all because he selfish"

lo'ak " mom I'm sorry I ..."

neytiri " no enough Jake will speak with you" neytiri soon turned around and walked away she was upset and mad.

Jake " I'm sorry everyone for my son behavior I will speak with him, and make sure this doesn't happen again I swear it"

tonowari " we will hold you onto those words Jake sully lets hope your son can see sense soon" soon everyone else had slowly started to leave Jake didn't say anything else he walked away shaking his head.

lo'ak " mama I"m sorry now I brought you into my mess"

y/n " it okay my son I'm proud of you my warrior" lo'ak soon smiled towards you the rest of the kids wish to come near, but were ushered away by kiri and ronal.

The next day

Jake " lo'ak will be extra task given to him by myself and the other olo'eythan to make up for his actions of yesterday and past months"

y/n " Jake that unfair he already has enough on his shoulder"

lo'ak " mama it okay dad spoke to me about it yesterday and I want to do it"

y/n "lo'ak"

neteyam " I will go with you baby bro and we can ask others to help"

Jake " no it will be out on the water and he will be doing it on his own"

y/n " Jake"

lo'ak " it will be okay mama I will be fine"

Jake " come on boy you will be leaving now and come one once it done"

lo'ak " yes sir" you ahd followed Jake and lo'ak outside towards where the others leaders are waiting, they were speaking with Jake and soon looked at lo'ak.

olo'eythan " your father spoke for you on us trusting you with this task and we hope you do all, and just maybe this will make up for what happened"

lo'ak " yes sir I will not let anyone down"

tonowari " I hope not"

Jake " lets get on with it"

y/n " lo'ak"

lo'ak " I will be okay mama no need to worry I will be home, I promise you everything will be okay and I will come home and make everyone proud"

y/n " okay just know you make me proud and if you see payakan tell me I say hello"

lo'ak " yes mama" you soon hugged lo'ak tightly fearing the worst but you soon let him go. Soon the other children had come to say goodbye to lo'ak along with neytiri and ronal.

neteyam " we will be wait to see you later baby brother

lo'ak " I know everything will be fine" soon lo'ak was gone on his IIu as you saw him getting smaller and smaller as, he was getting away from home.

Jake " he will be fine nothing bad will happen this plan will go well" before you could say anything else against your husband Jake was gone. You stood there watching hoping and praying that lo'ak will be okay and come home safe.

Later that day

y/n " the sun starting to set and he not home yet"

aonung " dont worry y/n lo'ak will be home soon it take all day"

y/n " thank you aonung"

neteyam "yes mom he will be home soon there no need to worry"

Jake " you are worrying again"

y/n " yes I'm why are you not he out there all alone"

Jake " he is safe he needs to do this alone he doesn't need his mom treating him like a baby, he safe out there the rda will not find him"

y/n " jake please can we send someone"

Jake " no yet he will be fine when it dark we will send someone to go find him, that finally no more fighting me on this" Jake soon stormed off the children had kept you busy, until night fall had come. You were alone in the house and were wondering where lo'ak was at right now. You soon walked towards the water hoping to see lo'ak, no one else was around gone in the village.

y/n " lo'ak ... lo'ak ... lo'ak" you soon heard a loud splash as it got your attention, you soon walked into the water hear the sound of IIu call but sound bad.

y/n " lo'ak ... lo'ak" you soon saw payakan but what made you panic the most was that there was someone laying on payakan back, it was lo'ak.

y/n " lo'ak" you scream you son name as your swam towards him soon getting towards his body, and it was bad it seem he was in a bad fight but you soon saw the RDA hook on his IIU.

y/n " no please no lo'ak"

lo'ak" m... m ... mama"

y/n " I'm here lo'ak I'm here"

lo'ak " m.. mama"

y/n " help someone help"

???? " mom what the matter ... lo'ak" you soon looked and saw neteyam with rotxo, aonung, and spider and all four boys looked horrified to see lo'ak in this type of state.

y/n " help me take hime to norm and max now and go tell the others"

the boys" ...."

y/n " now" you soon yelled and the boys soon went into action aonung and rotxo raced off while neteyam and spider helped you. You were carrying lo'ak body with neteyam helped toward norm and max while spider ran ahead.

norm " what happened"

y/n " he was caught be the RDA and hurt that what happened now we have to safe him"

max " take him into the tent we can save him" you and neteyam soon placed lo'ak on a mat on the bed, as norm and Max race to get everything they need at the moment.

neteyam " mama"

y/n " stay outside and keep watch okay" neteyam said nothing as him and spider looked scared about everything that was happening lo'ak looked bad he was more hurt then neteyam.

lo'ak " mama... mama"

y/n " hush kiddo it okay I'm her with uncle norm and max we are going to make you feel better" you had placed your hands on lo'ak comforting him while norm and max put IV in him along with other stuff. Neteyam had yelled out in pain as everything hurt so badly, it seems like he had broken bones, cuts and bruised on his body along with some burns as well.

lo'ak " mama is hurts"

y/n " I know baby I know just a few more and then we can see what the matter"

norm " lo'ak kid you are going to feel some pain for a bit"

lo'ak " yes sir" Max had sticked lo'ak with some more thing making the boy scream again.

Lo'ak " they found me mama ... I was with payakan and some other tulkun we tried to escape ... then fight but it didn't work mama I don't know if the others are okay to much happened"

y/n " hush now you need to save all the energy you have"

lo'ak " mama I'm sorry I let everyone down I didn't do well I...."

y/n " don't speak like that I'm prpud of you my son you did well" you had kissed lo'ak forehead, but he still in pain. It hurt you to see your kids in pain but now it hurt more as there was nothing you can do.

???? " lo'ak lo'ak"

neteyam " dad over here he in there with mama" soon Jake came into the room with neytiri behind them, both of them look horrified to see Jake. They were soon followed by the other sully kids and tonowari kids as well.

kiri " lo'ak"

Jake " kids go wait outside"

neteyam " but dad"

y/n " everyone stop please we need clam right"

mo'at " what has happen is my grandson ... look"

y/n " mo'at we are going to need your help" mo'at soon entered the tent and started helping where she could. You soon saw Jake and neytiri still by the entrance looking, you soon went towards them.

Jake " wait can we do to help"

y/n " stay outside and out of the way" you soon closed the tent door on them and went back to your son, who was in need of help right now. Soon enough all four adults had gotten lo'ak stable and placed him on a new bed to sleep on for the night.

mo'at " you should stay with him tonight he will need a parent with him, and attention If anything bad happens"

y/n " thank you"

norm " it will take some time for him to deal but he has broken bones, burns on his legs and arms, with some cuts and bruises as well he had lost blood as well"

y/n " oh lo'ak"

max " he lucky to be alive but we will need to keep an close eye on him"

y/n " thank you all for helping"

max " the others are still waiting outside you can go speak with them, I will watch over the boy until you all come back" you had nodded your head saying nothing else as you soon left the tent with mo'at and norm. That when you saw everyone else waiting outside it seems like they been waiting for a while.

neteyam " mama" neteyam soon saw you and came running with his siblings and his cousins along with their friends.

y/n " hello kids"

kiri " mama how is lo'ak"

y/n " he if stable at the moment and now resting"

mo'at " thanks to the efforts of norm, max, and your mama we were able to get him stable"

tuk " can we see him mama"

spider " yes can we see him please aunt y/n"

norm " kids clam down lo'ak is resting right now and not taking any visitors"

tuk " aww"

y/n " you know lets make a deal tomorrow you all can go see him, if he wake by then"

tsireya " yes ma'am"

y/n " where is everyone else"

aonung " they are holding a meeting"

rotxo " we don't know about what we couldn't hear and we wanted to see how things were going for lo'ak"

y/n " thank you all for staying"

neteyam " can we spend the night here mama we can make a camp here"

kids " yes please for lo'ak"

mo'at " children y/n is overwhelmed with lo'ak right now and we should give them space, you all should be heading home"

the kids " yes ma'am"

y/n " go on home now I will see you'll tomorrow my loves and kids" the children had nodded their heads and soon left, but not before giving a goodbye to you and lo'ak. Your children had hugged you and it was easy to tell none of them are taking this whole situation well.

mo'at " I will let you deal with Jake and my daughter first and then I will deal with them later"

norm " I have some words for them as well... there are some blanks and bed for you y/n that you can use ... Max will be staying in human hut that a fee feet away along with me as well"

y/n " thank you all" soon norm and mo'at had left to go attend to the children and make sure they got home, you were waiting outside when you heard footsteps coming toward you.It was Jake and neytiri along with tonowari and oloeythans.

Jake " how is he can we see him is he talking"

y/n " he is stable for now and resting"

neytiri " then we will go see our son"

y/n " no is resting

Jake " then we will be quite we wish to see him and care for him"

y/n " I said he resting leave him be for now"

neytiri " one of us can stay with you for the night and be there for our son"

y/n " the children at home need you right now I will stay here with lo'ak and you deal with our kids at home"

tonowari " y/n we are greatly sorry for ...."

y/n " your kdis need you at home as well tonowari I will see you all tomorrow" you soon left saying nothing else as you soon looked at lo'ak as he was resting tears falling down your face, there were some words that lo'ak shared with you that you will deal with in the morning. You soon started humming the song that lo'ak and his siblings love, it seem to make matter better. You are praying deep down that lo'ak will get better as he resting in bed healing. There was so much that happened last night that will affect everyone later on, that might break relationships forever and cause damage that can't be healed so easily.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Helloooooo

I'm newer to your page ive been slowly reading your amazing stories.. are you still doing your prompt list stories?? I seen 3 that could work.. 40,42 and 43.. and it made me think or something possibly like this..

Eddie and (maybe plus sized) reader have been together for a while.. she sees a pretty girl/groupie flirting with him after the show (but she doesn't see him walking away from her or telling her that hes taken/not interested.. Reader just gets feral when they get home.. not realizing she's ovulating or something.. and just like gets her frustration out by begging Eddie to claim her fully or something..

sorry my brain has been all over the place.. I just can't get enough of him amd some stories have brought out some sides of me that i didnt know i had haha)

Hope that made sense.. I have a hard time getting what I have in my brain out.. which is why I don't write haha

Hello, lovely! Welcome! Thanks for the request!

Not proofread!

Eddie x fem!shy!plus size!reader

cw: MDNI 18+, smut (p in v), unprotected sex, fingering (f receiving) oral (f receiving), mention of pregnancy

Ever since you and Eddie had gotten together, he had made your relationship his entire personality. He would mention you every chance he got, letting everyone know that he was a taken man and that he was very lucky to have you. Whether it was in an interview, he talking about one of the many songs he had written about you, or introducing you to someone, it didn’t matter. He was so obsessed with you and had to let everyone know just how much he loved you.

Amongst his many nicknames for you, “my girl” was by far his favorite. He used it so often, so much love behind the words that it was clear to everyone that he was head over heels for you. He’d even go as far as singing the song to you while you made breakfast together, spinning you around the kitchen as the lyrics fell from his lips.

“This? Oh, my girl got it for me.”

“The next song is about my girl. I hope you enjoy it.”

“Everyone, I’d like you to meet my girl.”

You were his favorite topic of conversation to the point where it seemed that everyone knew that he was taken just by how much he brought you up in conversation, often unprompted. And anyone who didn’t know or did and flirted with him anyway, he would shut them down so quickly once he realized what was happening. He already had the best thing and wouldn’t have dreamed of ruining it.

You entered the concert venue as everyone was packing things up for the night. Corroded Coffin had just finished a show which you hadn’t been able to get to until after your shift at the bar down the street. You felt horrible for missing it even though Eddie had insisted that it was okay. He just appreciated that you were going to be there at all with your very busy schedule.

You were let in through the back doors and made your way down the hallway to find the all too familiar mop of hair. He was usually waiting right by the door for you, but he wasn’t there. You were starting to panic, but tried to calm yourself down, telling yourself that maybe he was in the bathroom or grabbing his belongings.

You looked all around the building until you spotted him outside his dressing room…talking to a girl. She was beautiful and she was making him laugh. She reached up and touched his hair and instead of stepping in like you knew you should have, you just turned on your heel to leave. You couldn’t watch another second.

What you hadn’t seen when you turned your back was Eddie removing the girls hand from his hair before dropping it. Now he understood what was happening. He took a step back from her until his back almost hit the door.

The thing about Eddie was that sometimes he wasn’t even aware that he was being flirted with. That was something that he still wasn’t used to after years in the industry because of the treatment he had received back home. He just thought they were being friendly until the touches came into play and that was always telltale sign. And then he’d let them down easy, not wanting to hurt their feelings, letting them know that his girl was waiting for him back home.

“Oh,” his eyes widened. “I’m so sorry. I have a girlfriend.” The girls face fell and she almost seemed disgusted by the fact that he was in a relationship.

“Oh,” she pouted. He always felt bad, letting the girls down, but he knew that one of his band mates would be happy to take them off his hands.

“But you know what? I heard that Gareth is looking for someone to take home, if you’re interested,” he winked and her face lit up again.

“Really?”

“Really,” Eddie nodded and opened the dressing room door where the other members of the band were hanging out. “Go get ‘em.”

The girl entered the room and Eddie let out a sigh of relief before turning to his left only to see you turning the corner. He didn’t know where you were going. You always waited for him so he didn’t understand why you were walking away.

He took off, racing after you so he could catch up. He almost tripped a few times, but he got to you, draping an arm over your shoulder as he fell into step with you.

“There’s my girl,” he let out a contented sigh before pressing a kiss to your temple. He tucked you into his side but couldn’t help but notice that you weren’t grabbing a hold of him like you usually did. You always had to be touching him so something was clearly off.

“Nothing to say, hm?” he asked, his lips still pressed to your skin. You weren’t usually talkative after work because you were usually overstimulated, but you would normally at last give him some sort of greeting.

Had he forgotten an important event? Maybe your birthday? No, that had already passed. Maybe your anniversary? No, that wasn’t until next month. Whatever it was, he definitely needed to apologize.

You and Eddie didn’t fight often, but when you did, it didn’t take very long for you both to make up. He was normally the first to apologize, hating to see the angry look on your face. He just wanted to make everything right so you could cuddle up in your bed. He just wanted you to be happy and hated when he was the one to be the cause of your unhappiness.

But he wanted to wait until you brought up what was bothering you. He never wanted to pry and hoped that you knew that he was willing to listen to whatever was going on in your head, no matter how ridiculous it seemed.

So, you spent the whole walk to his van and the whole ride home talking about your nights. He listened to you tell him about what happened at the bar and he told you how great the show went, not leaving out any detail.

It almost seemed like a normal night except for the obvious tension between the two of you. Neither one of you were going to be the first to bring it up, so it sat between you, like a jack in the box and you both were afraid to crank it first, not wanting to see the thing pop up.

Eddie rested his hand on your thigh like he normally did and even thought you were upset with him, you weren’t going to deny his affection. You loved the way his rough skin felt on yours and you felt like you needed him to show you just how much he wanted you.

You wanted him compliment you as he pounded into you, causing you to let out countless moans. You wanted to feel his lips everywhere. Your neck, your tits, your pussy. You just needed his head between your thighs so badly that you were getting wet just thinking about it.

Eddie pulled up to the house that you shared and was quick to help you out of the van, still keeping a hold of your hand as he opened the garage door. You pulled your hand out of his as soon as the door was open and headed inside.

He needed to beg if he wanted to get lucky. Not that it would take much for you to give in. You would have done anything he told you just by him flashing his million dollar smile, his dark brown eyes shining.

Eddie followed you into the house and up the stairs, noticing how loudly you were stomping as you took each step. He usually liked pissing you off just to get the reaction he liked, but never to this level. He had really fucked up and he didn’t even know what he had done.

You got to your shared room and slammed the door once you were inside. Eddie winced at the sound and decided that he finally had enough. He had to get to the bottom of the problem.

“Alright.” He opened the door, not even bothering to close it. He couldn’t go any longer without knowing why you were so pissed at him. “What’s on your mind?”

How could he not know? He was laughing with another girl then acted like it was nothing? Maybe he wasn’t into you as much as you thought. Maybe what you had wasn’t as special as you had assumed. Maybe this was just the beginning of the end.

“Nothing, Eddie. Let’s just go to bed.” You really weren’t in the mood to start another fight with him.

“No, we’re gonna talk about this.” He put his hands on his hips. Wayne always told him to never go to bed angry and he intended on sticking to that advice.

“Fine, you wanna know what’s wrong?” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“Tell me, angel,” he stepped forward. “Please.”

“I saw you with her.” His eyebrows furrowed, trying to figure out who you could have been talking about.

“With who?” He had no idea what you were referring to and just wanted you to come out and say it.

“The groupie outside your dressing room.” Oh. He had completely forgotten about her as soon as she entered the dressing room. He couldn’t believe you were jealous of her. You were always the only girl on his mind.

“You’re jealous,” he chuckled and you just scoffed. You couldn’t believe that he was laughing at your pain.

“So what if am?” He wasn’t expecting you to admit it so easily, but he appreciated the honesty.

“There’s no need to be jealous, honey,” he rested his hands on your shoulders, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “You’re the one I love, remember?”

He had always said the word so easily, so matter-of-fact, as if he was telling you the weather forecast.

“You love me.” You crossed your arms over your chest, needing a little more than that to be convinced.

“Of course I do.” He gave your shoulders another squeeze before sliding his hands down to yours, holding them.

“Prove it.” You raised an eyebrow, challenging him. You wanted proof, needed it in fact.

“What?” He let out a scoff at your words. It wasn’t like you to have so much confidence in your words. You were usually so shy and quiet, but he liked seeing this new side of you.

“Prove it,” you repeated and he just let out another chuckle.

“How am I supposed to do that?” He stopped laughing once he saw you weren’t joking. You meant what you said, but he was going to do whatever you asked. He just wanted you to not be upset with him anymore. He needed to see your pretty smile.

“Beg.” Your eyes darkened as you spoke and Eddie’s widened at how authoritative you had become. You were so hot like this.

“Beg?”

“Beg,” you removed one of your hands from his and pointed to the floor. “On your knees.” He didn’t know why he was finding your bossy behavior so hot, but his dick was definitely hardening.

Eddie lowered himself to the floor, your hands still in his. He looked up at you and you loved seeing him from that point of view. He looked so small unlike his usual tall stature.

“I love you so much, angel,” he said, bringing your hands up to his lips. “So so much. You’re my girl and I’d never even think about cheating on you. You have no reason to be jealous, I swear.”

He grabbed a hold of your waist, burying his face into your stomach. Your hands found their way into his hair, giving his scalp a scratch. You figured he had suffered enough, but just needed one more thing.

“I’m so sorry. I wish you had told me how you were feeling sooner so I could reassure you.”

“I know how you could reassure me.” You were trying to sound flirty, but weren’t sure if you were doing it right. Flirting was always Eddie’s thing.

“How?” He asked, pulling back to look up at you.

“I need you.” Eddie was quick to stand up, trying to understand what you mean.

“I’m right here, honey.” He pulled you into his arms, giving you a tight hug. His hand rubbed your back in a comforting manner and normally, you would have taken that, but not tonight. You needed more. You needed to feel his skin against yours. His cock inside you.

“No, Eddie. I need you.” Your eyes darkened again and he was finally catching on to what you were meaning.

“Oh,” he let out a laugh. “That was all you had to say.” He hands wrapped around your waist and he pulled you into a kiss, capturing your bottom lip between his two. He took no time to lick into your mouth while his hands reached for the bottom of your shirt. He pulled it up over your head and let it fall to the floor.

You unbuttoned his shirt and threw it behind you before attaching your lips to his, taking no time to plunge your tongue into his mouth. You backed him up to the bed and pushed him down onto it before straddling his waist.

“You’re so hot,” he breathed as your lips moved down to his neck, giving it a suck before moving back up to his mouth.

“You’re hotter.” Eddie quickly flipped you over so you were the one on the mattress and you let out a gasp at the sudden movement. He straddled your waist and pinned your wrists to the bed before going straight for your shoulder.

“No, baby. You’re the hottest. Your body is fucking killer.” Eddie loved your body. You weren’t skinny by any means, but that just gave him more love on. He loved pressing kisses to every inch of skin he could find, loving to give special attention to your stretch marks. He thought they were cute and that they made you unique.

“You think so?”

“I know so, honey,” he pulled back to look at you. “Want me to show you?” His face lit up as he said the words and it made you even more wet knowing that he was so happy to show you just how much he liked your body.

“Please,” you whined and he kissed his way down to your chest, pressing a kiss right in the center of it, right above the middle of your bra. “Take it off,” you commanded.

He pressed another kiss to the skin and moved his hands behind your back, unhooking it as slowly as he possibly could. He could hear your sighs of frustration and tried to hold back his chuckle. He very slowly undid each hook and removed the bra completely, letting it clatter to the floor beside the bed.

Eddie then pinned you back down to the mattress and looked down at you with a devilish grin. He was always such a fucking tease.

“You’re even hotter than I remember,” he complimented as he stared down at your tits.

“I got hotter just from last night?”

“Sure did. Now hush, honey. I’m about to do my best work.” He moved one of his hands to your nipple, massaging it with the pad of his thumb, just enough for to make it hard before he brought his mouth to it. He licked a stripe across it before giving it a suck.

“Oh,” you let out a moan and he took that as an invitation to bring it between his teeth giving it a little nibble. “Oh, Eddie.”

He did the exact same thing to the other nipple, eliciting more pretty sounds from you and he was eating it up. He loved that only he could get that reaction from you.

Eddie kissed his way down your stomach and stopped once he got to your waist. He pressed a featherlight peck to each of your stretch marks before looking up at you.

“Can I remove-“

“Yes,” you cut him off, getting desperate for him to get it over with.

“Needy,” he chuckled.

“And you’re a tease. I need your mouth on my clit.” You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Whatever the princess wants, the princess gets.” He unbuttoned your pants and pulled them off of you in one quick more before letting them fall to the floor in a messy pile behind him. He then reached for your underwear and slid them off before tossing them behind him. He lowered himself onto his knees then spread your legs and let out a whistle as he got a look at your pussy.

“Already wet for me, hm?” His fingers lightly grazed your cunt and you gave him that look that he knew all too well. You hated when he messed with you like this, but he did it just to see that angry look in your eyes. It never failed to make him hard. 

“I think we both know the answer to that.” Eddie liked you best when you were like that, all angry and bothered.

“Wow, doll,” his fingers stayed where they are, moving back and forth so you got a little sensation but not the full thing. Eddie liked it when you begged. “That just might be a record.” 

“Stop fucking around.” You usually liked the little games he liked to play, but not tonight.

“Someone’s eager,” he teased with a smirk and you were honestly on the verge of pleasuring yourself since he was taking too long. This was always how it went so you didn’t know why you ever expected anything different.  

“Of course I’m eager, I’m-” your words were cut off when Eddie thrusted his fingers into your pussy. “Oh.”

“That’s right, doll.” His fingers pumped in and out, causing you to let out a moan. 

“Eddie,” you whined and he just smirked. 

“Say my name, honey.” He continued, thrusting them harder and faster as you let out another moan, grasping as the bedding underneath you, needing something to grab onto.

“Need your mouth, Eds,” you mewled and he removed his fingers before draping your legs over his shoulders. He pressed a kiss to each thigh before diving into your pussy and you let out a gasp. He licked a stripe from your slit to your clit before shoving it into your pussy, swirling it around as your hands dug further into the bedding.

You let out a loud moan and Eddie only buried his face further into your cunt, grazing the thing with his teeth and that drove you wild. You almost screamed at the sensation and Eddie did it once more to hear the sound again. Your thighs tightened at the feeling, causing them the press against the side of his head and he spread them, removing himself from your cunt.

You let out a whine at his absence and he ripped off his pants, desperate to be inside you. He moved to his bedside table and reached for his box of condoms, only to find that it was empty.

“I’m okay with it if you are,” you told him, seeing what the issue was. And you were okay with it. You suddenly liked the idea of feeling his bare cock inside of you.

“You’re sure? What about-“

“If I get pregnant, I get pregnant,” you shrugged. The two of you had talked about having a baby and even discussed trying, but he didn’t think it would be so soon. He couldn’t have been more happy, though. He loved the idea of having a baby that was a product of the two of you making love to each other.

“You want to have a baby with me?” His face lit up. Sure, being a rockstar was cool, but he was convinced that being a father and husband were the roles he was convinced he was put on this earth for.

“I’d be honored to have a baby with you, Eds.” You didn’t know why he was asking since you had talked about it at length.

“Well, there’s no time like the present,” he smiled, ripping off his underwear. He lined himself up with your pussy and slowly slid his dick into you. You let out a small noise as the sensation. You never had unprotected sex before so it felt a little odd at first, but you had to admit that you liked the way it felt, that there was no barrier between his cock and your pussy.

Eddie slowly thrusted into you, wanting it to be nice and sweet for once. He wanted this to be a sweet moment between the two of you. Something you’d remember for the rest of your lives.

His hands gripped your hips as he pumped in and out, paying you compliment after compliment, showering you with the sweetest words as he thrusted inside you, assuring you of his love for you.

You let out moan after moan as he pumped into you and you grabbed onto him, pressing your face into his neck. His thrusted a little harder and your fingers dug into his back, but not enough to actually hurt him.

“Taking me so well, honey,” he said, pumping a little faster and harder. He was just testing the waters to see what you liked without the condom.

“Eddie,” was all you were able to say, your words getting slurred as your head leaned back.

“I know, princess,” he brushed some sweaty hair out of your face. “Got one more for me, hon?”

“One more,” you repeated. He gave a couple more thrusts, these ones harder and faster than before and you let out the most pretty moans he had ever heard come from your mouth. He hadn’t thought you’d liked it rough, but he supposed his was wrong.

He pulled out and lowered you to the mattress before cleaning you up and getting you some fresh pajamas from the drawer you had them tucked away in. He helped you change into them then got into his own before getting you both under the covers.

You turned over to face him and you wrapped your arms around each other, tangling your legs together as you did so. He couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he looked at you, the love of his life. God, he was so fucking lucky.

“I love you,” he smiled, bringing one of his hands up to your face and you smiled as well.

“I love you too.” He pressed a soft kiss to your lips in response.

“You’re going to be a great mom.” His thumb rubbed back and forth along your cheek and you closed your eyes, loving the way it felt. You could tell he meant the words, not only because he never said anything he didn’t mean, but also because of the way he looked when he said it, his eyes all soft and sweet.

“And you’re going to be a great dad.” He felt himself tearing up at your words and yours teared up too. He pulled you in for another kiss and the two of you drifted off to sleep, thinking of nothing but cribs and high chairs and the extra bedroom you had that would have made a perfect nursery. Maybe if things went right, you’d actually be parents.