#and the way you highlight all these little moments - really let them breathe and be special in their own right… is so so lovely
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౨ৎ in which you run into rafe’s arms whenever there’s trouble. not that he minds, of course.
being rafe’s girlfriend meant relying on him for everything. it made him feel wanted, and made you feel safe. so although it went against all your morals as a woman, it just felt right crawling into a cute boy’s muscular arms whenever you needed comfort or help. whether someone made your drink wrong, or a boy was hitting on you, or anything else really, rafe was there to help you out. you’d just grab his hand or pull him aside, and he’d mutter an “i gotcha, kid,” before going to handle it.
he’d assumed you’d be okay going to a friends birthday party. he wasn’t invited, it was a ‘no boys allowed’ kind of party. just gossiping pillow fights and giggles. and these were your friends, if you had any issues you’d sort them out yourself. but, spoiler alert — he was wrong.
rafe was at tannyhill, sitting on the couch on the balcony as he replied to his fathers email about the dumb cross that rafe wanted to sell. it was probably around two hours ago when you left, in your cute dress that he bought you, giving him a big kiss before leaving with a birthday gift in hand. the sun was setting, it wasn’t even that late. so he certainly wasn’t expecting a security alert that the front door was opening, nor your pouty face appearing at the balcony door as you opened it slowly.
your lips were red, matching the unnatural hue on your cheeks. little white lines stained from your eye down to your jaw. your eyelashes were droopy and had little wet drops on them. which leaves him to one conclusion; you were crying.
“..shit,” he mutters under his breath, drawling out the word with parted lips and sighing as you plop yourself down beside him. “what happened, baby?” an arm instantly wraps around your shoulder, pulling you into his side. you instantly cuddle into him, like you always do. right back in your lover’s arms.
“..anna,” you sniffle, voice soft and shaky. “i don’t get it. i don’t get why she’s so nice to everyone except for me. hates me for no reason, rafe, she hates me—“ a quick interruption on his part, quickly shutting you up because you’re not answering the question properly.
he finds it hard to believe that anyone could hate his girl. “what did she do?” he asks, making sure you’re looking him in the eyes so you really understand what he’s asking for. specifics.
“she’s just so rude. said my highlights were way too grown out, said my dress did nothing for my figure and washed out my tan, said that my nail polish was chipping..” you trail off and sniffle. “anything to prove im not perfect, rafe. like duh, i know im not, but she likes to point it out. then she always giggles like it’s just a silly joke,”
“..uh huh,” he hums along. “‘n you know thats not true, right?” he checks, as if it’s obvious.
“well it is true. haven’t gotten my hair done in months, and my nails are chipping, so..”
he sighs. “not that part, kid. c’mon,”
“…that was the only part, rafe,”
“talking about the ‘perfect’ part,” he clarifies. “you know you’re perfect, c’mon, don’t start saying you aren’t,”
“no one’s perfect,” you counter.
“i beg to differ,” he shrugs. “now c’mon, whaddya want me to do about this bitch, huh?” he changes the topic before you argue and he has to assure you more.
“nothing, rafe,”
“nothing?”
“mhm.”
he huffs and leans back on the couch. he knows you. you don’t want him to do nothing about this. “why the hell are you here then, if you don’t want me to do anything?”
“to see my handsome boyfriend ‘n tell him what happened,”
“..right,” he says after a moment. “sure thing, kid. i won’t do anything. whatever you want,” you can tell he’s lying through his teeth.
you smile softly at his agreeable attitude, his voice and touch alone comforting you more than anyone else could. so you cuddle into him more, doe eyes looking out at the sunset overlooking tannyhill, at the american flag waving in the humid wind. you’re perfectly content letting him dry the leftover tears and spending the night with him instead of your little friends.
but you and him both know he’s gonna be making an angry phone call to a certain girl after you leave.
#౨ৎ isa writes#obx#obx x reader#rafe obx#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron obx#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron one shot#rafe cameron prompt#rafe outer banks#rafe x reader#outerbanks rafe#rafe imagine#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe fic#drew starkey
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For Kinktober: anything with Jasper Whitlock, but preferably size kink (short reader), voice kink, hand kink, and some on top of the clothes action / sex in the clothes. Choose all of it or one, I don't care, just having a brainrot about him: my ovaries explode every time I see this gif
(A/n: Kinktober Day 6/15! I wanted to keep all of this year's kinktober fics below 2.5k, but this one got away from me ;v;)
Word Count: 3,842
Summary- Well, you HAVE to take on his challenge -I mean, experiment. It's only the responisble thing to do as his study partner.
Warnings: Strip game, Fingering, PIV, Creampie, Cocky! Jasper, Not proofread
Age Rating: 18+ Minors DNI
Jasper Whitlock x Fem! Reader: Study Buddy
----------------------
"Did you know that predators have front-facing eyes, but prey normally have eyes on the side of their faces?" You ask Jasper as you scan your textbook. He had agreed to help you study for an upcoming test. "It's because the prey has to be able to look out for danger."
Not only is evolutionary bio not your strongest subject, but your professor is an asshat so you really can't afford to fail this test.
"I did," he mumbles as he highlights a section that he thinks you should go through again. "Did you know that when two animals make eye contact, the first to look away is the submissive?" Jasper asks back.
"That's gotta be BS, right? What if one just doesn't want to look at the other's ugly mug?" Your retort is weak, but your tone has the confidence of a straight, cis, white man who's telling you what your own name means.
Jasper lets out a small, huffed laugh and finally looks up at you, warm gold meeting e/c. "I don't think animals think that way, darlin'."
"Are you an animal whisperer?" You snark, crossing your arms with a cocked eyebrow.
"Do you really think it's not real?" He gets back on topic. When you shake your head, he turns his chair towards you before doing the same to your own so you both face each other. "Really? Then, let's test that theory, hm? You seem pretty confident in yourself, so what's the harm?"
"I seem pretty confident because I am pretty confident." You mark your place and shut the textbook.
He chuckles with a small shake of the head. Leaning back in his chair with one arm thrown over the back, Jasper says, "Let's play a game."
"We're supposed to be studyin-" "It's a science experiment."
When you fall back against your seat, he continues. "We'll make eye contact, we'll stare at each other, and the first to look away loses. And if you lose..." he smirks a little, "you lose a piece of clothing. Best out of five wins."
You chew on your lip as you mull it over. You're confident that you can keep eye contact. And the submissive thing is bullshit, anyway, so it's not like your pride will take a hit. "So, strip poker but with a staring contest?" He nods.
"Exactly."
"...okay."
You meet Jasper's warm golden gaze, determination etched on your face. There's no way you're going to lose this little game of his.
"I know what's going to happen. You're going to give in; you can't take the pressure." You ignore him, zeroing on a small fleck of dark gold in his eyes to ground your thoughts.
As the seconds tick by, you resist the urge to look away, focused solely on holding Jasper's stare. His voice, low and smooth, sends shivers down your spine. "That's a good girl, keeping those pretty eyes on me."
Your breath catches at the sudden praise, your lips parting in a small, silent gasp. You won't let him distract you that easily, though. You're in it to win it.
Jasper's long, slender fingers drum lightly against his jean-clad thigh, drawing your gaze for just a moment before you force yourself to look back into his eyes. His lips curve into a knowing smirk.
It takes you a second to realize. "...fuck!"
"That's my round, darlin'." He goads.
With a small grumble and more force than necessary, you all but rip your socks off and throw them at his head. He catches them before they even get close. You're less coordinated in your attempt to dodge them, and all you can do is grumble more when they hit you square in the middle of your face.
"Stop looking so smug - there's still plenty of time for me to whoop your ass." You can't decide if you want to wipe that dumb-ass, unfairly charming smirk off his equally handsome face or if you want to pull him in and kiss him silly. Probably both... Yeah, both is good.
Jasper's eyes gleam with amusement as he watches your continued huffing and puffing. He leans back in his chair, his fingers still tapping against his leg.
"Don't be so sour, darlin'," he grins, his voice low and velvety smooth. "The game's just getting started."
You narrow your eyes at him, determined not to let his distracting voice and looks throw you off this time. "Just shut up and start the next round, Whitlock."
He chuckles, the sound rumbling deep in his chest, and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he holds your gaze. The air crackles with tension as you both refuse to back down, each daring the other to be the first to look away.
The seconds tick by, the only sound the quiet rhythm of your breathing. You can feel the weight of Jasper's stare, intense and captivating, drawing you in. Your pulse quickens, palms growing sweaty, but you refuse to lose again.
Just when you think you might actually win this round, Jasper's lips curve into a slow, predatory smile. "You know you want to look away. You want to give in, to submit; it's in your DNA. C'mon... Just look away, prove what we both already know: that when it comes down to it, you'd do nothing but roll over and show your belly..."
You roll your eyes in a subconscious attempt to ignore how his words, no matter how much they were shit talking, made your heart leap into your throat. With a triumphant smirk, Jasper declares, "My round again."
"That's not fair! You shouldn't be able to annoy me into losing!" You lie through your teeth about the true effect he's having on you.
Barking out a laugh, he says, "The only rule was that we can't look away. We never decided talking or touching were off limits. You lost fair and square, sugar, so lose an item."
"But-" "Three seconds before i decide which one," he interrupts with a cheeky grin. "and you might not like what I choose... Three. Two-" You let out a frustrated groan, quickly removing your shirt and tossing it to the side. His laughter only serves to further stoke the flames of your competitive spirit. "There we go! Good girl."
"I thought we're supposed to be studying." You try to feign nonchalance as you sit there, bra exposed and with only three items left. Technically, you're tied in terms of clothing remaining, but it's also not lost on you that it's currently 0-2 in Jasper's favor.
"We are studying; this is a science experiment, remember? Unless you're ready to admit that you're wrong AND that you're submissive. That would be quite the win on my end." Well, shit. Now you can't back out. You'll be damned if you let him have something to hang over your head.
"Just you wait, Whitlock," you snap, trying to regain your focus for the next round. "I'm just getting warmed up."
You narrow your eyes at Jasper, determined not to let him fluster you again. The stakes are higher now, but you've got this.
Taking a deep breath, you meet his gaze once again. The tension in the air is palpable as you both refuse to back down.
Jasper's lips curl into a challenging smirk, his long fingers still tapping a steady rhythm against his thigh. You force yourself to focus solely on his eyes, blocking out everything else.
Seconds turn to minutes as you hold his stare, your heartbeat thundering in your ears but you refuse to waver.
Just when you think you're finding a groove and might stand a chance at winning, Jasper leans forward, his voice low and sultry. "You're doing so well, darlin'. But I can see it in your eyes - you're starting to crack."
A shiver runs down your spine at his words, but you grit your teeth and push on. You will not lose this round, no matter what underhanded tactics he tries.
The room fills with an intensity that almost makes it hard to breath as you continue your silent battle of wills. Jasper's gaze is unwavering, a predatory gleam in his eyes that makes your breath catch and waver.
Jasper's hand suddenly moves, his fingers slowly inching up your thigh. Your eyes widen and your pulse quickens but you refuse to look away.
"Good girl," Jasper acknowledges, his cool touch burning through the fabric of your jeans. "Just keep your eyes on me."
His fingers continue their slow, tantalizing trek up your thigh, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. His gaze is electric, drawing you in despite your best efforts to maintain composure. Your heartbeat thunders in your ears, but you refuse to break eye contact, stubbornly holding his molten stare.
"Jasper…" you breathe, unable to keep the quiver out of your voice. His lips curve into a knowing smile, fingers inching higher.
"That's it, darlin'," his voice is low and velvety smooth. "Just focus on me. Don't look away. It should be easy for you, right? You're a strong, dominant girl, after all."
The temptation to give in, to let your eyes slip shut, is nearly overwhelming. But you dig deep, summoning every ounce of willpower to maintain the intense eye contact.
Jasper's hand reaches the waist of your jeans, his fingertips dancing along the sensitive skin just above. Your pulse quickens and a shiver runs down your spine.
"J-Jasper…" you stammer, grip tightening on the arms of your chair.
His eyes shine with a predatory gleam as he watches you. "C'mon, sugar. Just a little bit longer… You can do it. Keep those pretty eyes on me.
"Or you can look away, let me take these pants off." he adds with a self-satisfied smirk.
You know you're teetering on the edge, your resolve rapidly crumbling under the onslaught of his touch and his words.
The seconds stretch on, the tension in the room palpable. Jasper's fingers continue their torturously slow ascent, and you find yourself struggling to keep your focus on his eyes.
His fingers dance along the underwire of your bra, "And after that, I'll pull those panties off of you with my teeth; maybe dive right in and see if that pussy tastes as good as I think it does." Your eyes flutter shut as a white-hot spike of arousal shoots straight to your core. He pulls his hand away and when you reopen your eyes, you see a triumphant grin has spread across Jasper's face. "That's my girl." Your eyes widen as you realize - you've lost. Again.
"You've got two chances left. Still think you're going to win?" Jasper asks. "I'm sure you can do it. Right? You can turn it around. Round 4."
As you settle in for yet another round, he gets in another jab. "You're gonna break. You're going to and it's going to be really fast."
His hand returns to your thigh; this time it only takes a second for him to reach the hem of your panties, his fingers dancing along the elastic. You swallow harshly, but keep his gaze. "You're not even trying to fight it; you're just letting me touch you."
"You're gonna keep looking me in the eyes when I move your panties to the side and slide my fingers in, aren't you?" Your breath hitches. "No, don't lose yet. Come on, look at me. Don't look away, I don't want you to look away." It's hard to fight against the urge to hide your face but you manage. You can feel how hot your cheeks are, and you can only imagine the expression on your face.
"Good girl," Jasper murmurs. "Don't look away. Don't you dare look away." You start to squirm a little, clenching your thighs desperate for some friction. "Why are you turned on?" He teases, his fingers still threatening to dip under the thin fabric. "Is it because you're submissive and you like losing? There's fight and flight, but you... you freeze. And you're gonna let me take what I want."
He finally tugs your panties aside and dips two fingers into you. your teeth dig into your bottom lip as you try to focus. You're so wet you swear you can feel it dripping down towards your ass. Fuck this is embarrassing but you realize you'd rather die than stop now; you want this. You want to just let go and let him take and take and take.
You crave his touch, crave to be used by him.
Jasper's fingers crook up into a spot that has stars dancing in your vision. Somehow you manage to just barely keep your eyes on him.
"C'mon, don't lose. I only have three pieces of clothing; you can still win this..." he taunts. "Don't look away, don't look away. Don't look away. Don't lose. Come on, look at me in my eyes. Good girl- don't look away."
"There it is..." He muses, pressing his fingers into your g spot as your back arches away from your chair and a debauched moan rips from your throat. "You lose again, darlin'." He brings his hand up to his mouth to clean your arousal off his fingers.
You let out a frustrated whine, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. Jasper's smug grin only infuriates you further - he's clearly enjoying this power he has over you.
"That's not fair," you pant, your body still tingling from his touch. "You're cheating."
Jasper chuckles, leaning back in his chair as he examines you hungrily. "Darlin', I don't need to cheat to make you submit to me. You want this just as badly as I do. Like I said earlier- we never agreed 'no touching'."
You can only glare half-heartedly at him, knowing he's right.
"Hey," Jasper ducks his head to catch your eyes as you look at the ground to avoid his gaze. "You got one more. It's the last round. You're still in this; you can still win. You've got to get at least one piece from me. you can't lose every time - that would just be pathetic..." You go to smack his arm, but he avoids it.
With a resigned and frustrated sigh, you unhook your bra and let it fall to the floor. "Let's get this over with already." you grumble. you want this to end partly to stop the embarrassment of losing this badly, but mainly because the sooner this is over, the sooner you can fuck him.
As the final round starts, Jasper reaches up to grab your chin, tilting your head up to barely brush his lips against yours. His eyes never leave yours as he asks, "Why don't you just look away on purpose so I can take these off and fuck you?"
His other hand reaches down to press his thumb against your clit, causing your eyes to shut as you let loose a shaky moan. "Oh- you lost..." The grin he gives you can only be described as devilish.
Faster than you can process, he is picking you up by the thighs and setting you on the table.
True to his word, he drops to his knees between your legs and. after pressing a few possessive kisses along your belly and the apex of your thighs, he takes your panties between his teeth and starts to slide them off of you.
You shudder with anticipation as Jasper's cool breath ghosts over your most intimate area. With painstaking slowness, he tugs your panties down, revealing your glistening cunt. His eyes never leave yours, molten gold boring into your very soul.
A playful smirk graces his perfect lips as he tosses the flimsy fabric aside. Calloused hands caress the soft skin of your inner thighs, urging them to part further. You comply willingly, heart racing in excitement.
Jasper hums appreciatively, drinking in the sight of your exposed cunt. Leaning in, he trails feather-light kisses along your dripping folds, teasing you mercilessly. Just when you think you can't take the anticipation any longer, his talented tongue darts out, parting your swollen lips and delving deep.
An involuntary moan escapes your lips as pleasure courses through you. Jasper sets an agonizingly slow pace, savoring every twitch and tremble of your body. His hands grip your hips, holding you steady as he explores every inch of your most sensitive area. "Fuck, I knew you'd taste amazing..." His low groan vibrates against you and forces another small gasp to leave you.
Jasper's skilled tongue continues its agonizingly slow exploration, eliciting more breathless sighs and whimpers from you. His grip on your hips tightens as he senses your growing desperation for release.
With a low growl, he suddenly picks up the pace, licking and sucking with purpose. Your back arches as the coil of pleasure tightens, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.
Just as you feel the first tremors of your impending climax, Jasper pulls away, leaving you panting and aching. He gazes up at you with hooded eyes, a smug expression on his face.
"Not yet, darlin'," he murmurs, his voice dripping with dark promise. "I have other plans for you."
Jasper's hands grip your hips firmly as he effortlessly maneuvers your body, guiding you to bend over the sturdy table. A gasp escapes your lips at the sudden change in position.
With your upper body pressed against the cool surface, you feel impossibly exposed and vulnerable. The long-forgotten books and scattered papers crinkle under your weight as Jasper's powerful frame looms over you, his presence radiating a primal dominance.
A shiver runs down your spine as his fingers trail along your spine, eliciting goosebumps in their wake. Leaning in close, he places a series of searing kisses along the back of your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin before pulling back and undressing.
Trembling with anticipation, you arch your back, silently begging for more of his touch. Jasper growls low in his throat, the primal sound sending a shiver down your spine. His large palms slide up your sides, calloused fingers caressing the curve of your waist.
You whimper, desperate for him to finally fuck you.
Jasper chuckles, the deep rumble of his voice sending sparks of desire through your body. "So impatient," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "Don't worry, sugar, I'm just getting started."
Jasper's grip on your hips tightens as he slowly, teasingly, presses his body against yours. You can feel the hard lines of his muscles and you ache to have him inside you. His hands slide up your sides, caressing and exploring your body.
Finally, after what feels like ages, he lines his cock up with your sopping pussy and starts to press in.
You gasp, arching your back as the head of his cock teases your entrance. "Jasper!" You moan, shuddering with anticipation.
Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he slides into you, inch by delicious inch. You feel every millimeter of his legnth as he fills you up, stretching and claiming you. His grip on your hips tightens, and you can feel the way his forearms bulging as he struggles to maintain control.
"Fuck," he growls, finally bottoming out inside you. He holds still for a moment, his lips pressing against your neck as he regains his breath.
Then, without warning, he begins to move, pulling almost all the way out before plunging back in with a force that takes your breath away. Over and over, he thrusts into you, his hips slapping against yours in a rhythm that is both primal and possessive.
You drop your head to the table, letting out a long, keening cry as you feel his cock hit your sweet spot, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. "Jasper!" You cry out, your voice echoing in the room.
His hands move to your breasts, tweaking and pinching your nipples as he fucks into you harder and faster. You can feel the heat building between your legs, the sensation growing more intense with each passing moment.
"I knew you were a submissive little thing," he says between grunts. "We could've gotten here a lot quicker if you had just dropped the act earlier, darlin'." You can feel his shit eating grin against your shoulder.
"Really?" you gasp out, body sliding against the table with each thrust. "You want to argue about that now?"
His chuckle is low in your ear. "Just making a point, sugar." Jasper presses a kiss to the space just behind your ear before leaning back and fucking into you harder.
The rough wood of the table bites into your shoulders, but you don't care. All that matters is the feeling of him inside you, claiming you.
"Jasper," you moan, your voice filled with pleasure and desperation. "I need… I need you to cum inside me." You beg, your back arching impossibly more as he reaches around to toy with your clit.
He picks up the pace even more, slamming into you over and over again. "Almost there, doll," he says, his voice rough with lust. "Just wait for it."
You clench around him, trying to draw him deeper inside you. The sensation is almost too much to bear, but you're so, so close.
You feel your body tense and then release in a wave of pure pleasure. Your muscles clench around Jasper's cock, milking him as you experience your orgasm. A loud moan escapes your lips, and your hips buck against the table unconsciously. Sweat beads on your forehead, and your skin feels flushed with heat.
As your climax subsides, you feel a cool rush between your legs. Jasper's release. He groans deeply, his body shuddering against yours.
After a minute of him staying plastered to your back, keeping you bent over the table, you feel him slowly pull out of you, and you can't help but whimper in disappointment.
"Don't give me any of that, doll," Jasper gently chides. He scoops you up in his arms, cradling you against his chest. You wrap your legs around him, holding onto him tightly. The chill of his skin against your heated sex is comforting, soothing the ache.
He carries you to the couch, setting you down gently before standing up and pulling his boxers on and heading into the kitchen. While he's gone, you take the opportunity to catch your breath and compose yourself. When he returns, he has a damp cloth. He gently cleans between them, his touch soft and careful as he wipes up the remnants of your tryst. Neither of you speak as he cares for you, reveling in the comfortable silence that blankets the both of you.
Once your cleaned up, he helps you redress; he helps you pull your panties back on along with his shirt. He scoops you up into his arms again as he lays on the couch. As you curl against him once more, he kisses the top of your head. "There's my good girl," he whispers. "I've got you."
#jasper hale x reader#jasper hale smut#jasper whitlock x reader#jasper hale x reader smut#jasper whitlock smut#kinktober 2024
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star girl
summary: you were always in love with JJ and when he finally noticed you, someone had to appear to make him take his attention off of you.
warnings: nothing
word counter: 5403
author’s note: english is not my first language, unfortunately I don't know what's going on and i can't tag anyone.
The first time you realized you had a crush on JJ Maybank, you were nine years old. It was a hot afternoon on the Outer Banks, and everyone was at the beach. John B and the other boys were competing to see who could run the fastest to the pier. You, as always, were sitting on the sand, watching from a distance, knees drawn to your chest, wanting to be a part of his world.
You couldn't take your eyes off JJ. His carefree smile, the sparkle in his blue eyes, the messy blonde hair that seemed to catch the sunlight. Even at that age, there was something special about him, an energy that drew you in without you being able to help it. While John B protected you like the older brother he was, you dreamed that one day JJ would look at you the way he looked at the ocean waves: with admiration, with interest. But for years, that day never came.
To him, you were always John B’s little sister, a constant but almost invisible presence in his life. The girl who ran after the Pogues, who listened to their stories from the corner of the room, laughing when everyone else did, but who never got a special glance from JJ.
Until that night.
It was at one of those impromptu parties at the Routledge house, with the sound of the ocean in the background and lights hanging on the porch. The air was heavy with salt and laughter, and you had decided, almost without thinking, that tonight would be different. You had spent hours choosing what to wear, looking for a balance between casual and what might catch his attention. The short dress you chose was simple, but it knew how to highlight your subtle curves, the ones JJ had never noticed before.
When you got to the backyard, the party was already in full swing. Kie was dancing with Sarah near the fire pit, and John B was busy talking to Pope about a new adventure. But you weren’t looking for either of them. There was only one person on your mind.
You saw him leaning against the porch railing, a beer in his hand, talking to a blonde girl you didn’t know. Your heart sank for a moment. Sure, he was with another girl. He was always with some girl. But instead of turning around and giving up, something in you decided that this time you weren’t going to stay in the shadows.
You walked towards the group confidently, feigning a confidence you didn’t really feel, but that seemed to convince everyone. JJ saw you approach, and for the first time, his eyes stopped on you, not in passing, not as his best friend’s sister, but as someone who, for some reason, deserved his attention.
“Do you want a beer?” he offered, with that crooked smile that had always driven you crazy.
“Sure,” you replied with an equally confident smile, though inside your heart was pounding.
They spent the night talking, laughing, sharing glances you hadn’t imagined possible. It wasn’t just the beer; it was the way his fingers brushed yours as he passed you a bottle, the way his eyes roamed your face as if he were seeing it for the first time. He made you feel alive, wanted.
And then, close to midnight, when everyone was too busy to notice, he led you away from the hustle and bustle, to the back of the house, where the shadows met the moonlight.
“I always thought you were different,” he murmured, his voice low, his eyes fixed on yours.
“Different how?” you asked, barely breathing, afraid it was all a dream.
“I don’t know… I’ve never seen you like this before. But now I can’t stop looking at you.”
And then he kissed you. It was gentle at first, like he was testing something he had been waiting to discover. Your hands gripped his shirt, pulling him closer, afraid that if you let go, the moment would fade.
Ever since that night at the party, your relationship with JJ became a secret that throbbed between the two of you, hidden in the margins of your lives. When you were around others, he was still the same JJ: charismatic, carefree, the boy who joked with John B and made everyone laugh. But in those moments when his eyes met yours, there was something different. Something that only you two shared.
The escapades began to become more frequent. At first, they were small encounters: a furtive glance from across the room, the purposeful brush of your hands as you passed him a bottle, or a smile that disappeared as quickly as it had come. But over time, those stolen moments stopped being enough.
There were nights when JJ would send you a short, simple text: “Meet you at the dock.” And you, unable to resist, would sneak out of the house while John B slept, slipping through the shadows until you reached him. There, under the dim light of the stars and the sound of the waves crashing against the wood, JJ would wait for you. Always with that mischievous smile, always with the promise of making you forget the world for a while.
“Do you ever wonder what would happen if John B knew?” you asked one night, as you both sat on the edge of the dock, your feet dangling over the water.
JJ looked at you, his smile fading for a moment. He knew the question was going to come sooner or later.
“He’d probably kill me,” he replied with a soft laugh, but there was a truth in his words that made you shudder.
“I know,” you murmured, fiddling with a loose thread on the sleeve of your sweatshirt. It was the reality that always hung over the both of you, a cloud that never quite went away.
JJ slipped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. His fingers traced soft circles on your skin, as if he wanted to calm your thoughts.
“But I also know I can’t stop looking at you,” he whispered close to your ear. “I don’t want to.”
His words hit you with a mix of excitement and fear. Because even though JJ was impulsive, and sometimes he didn’t think about the consequences, you knew his feelings were real. He didn’t say it to make you feel good, but because he truly meant it.
There were always boundaries, though. They never talked about the future, never wondered what they were to each other. Everything stayed in the present, in what they could steal from each other while no one was looking. And even though you wanted more—more of his touch, more of his glances, more of his time—there was a part of you that was afraid to ask for it.
There were days when reality hit you harder. Like when you saw him flirting with other girls at parties, his easy smile and undeniable charm melting hearts in its wake. You knew he’d always been like that, and that, in theory, you had no right to feel jealous. It wasn’t anything serious.
But it hurt.
“Why does it bother you?” he asked you once, after you confronted him about spending too much time with a girl at a party.
“I don’t know…” you lied, but you both knew the truth.
JJ looked at you with those blue eyes that seemed to see right through you. He moved in slowly, his fingers brushing your cheek before he cupped your chin, forcing you to look at him.
“You’re the one who’s here with me now” he whispered, his lips just inches from yours. “Not her.”
And when he kissed you, all your thoughts faded away, at least for a moment.
But reality always came back.
Despite the doubts that lingered in your head, you kept looking at JJ. Because even though there were no promises, even though he never assured you anything, you were willing to settle for what he gave you. It was enough… or at least, that’s what you tried to convince yourself.
But then, she showed up.
Her name was Emma. She wasn’t the type that usually hung out in the Outer Banks, nor some random girl who showed up at parties. She was new to the island, with a dazzling smile and a carefree air that caught everyone’s attention… including JJ.
The first time you saw her was at one of those beach gatherings, where all the Pogues and a few Kooks mingled. You were sitting near Kie and Sarah, enjoying the warmth of the fire, when you noticed her. Tall, blonde, with the kind of confidence that seemed to light up the place she was in.
But what really made you tense was seeing how JJ looked at her. It was a look you recognized all too well. The same one he’d started giving you in those first few encounters. The same one that had made you feel visible, wanted.
And now, that look was directed at someone else.
You swallowed the lump in your throat and tried to ignore it, telling yourself it meant nothing. JJ had always been charming with girls, always flirted. But there was a difference this time. Emma wasn’t just another one.
“Are you okay?” Sarah asked you, noticing your silence.
“Yes, everything is fine” you lied, forcing a smile that barely managed to convince her.
That night, JJ spent most of his time with Emma. He helped her light a new fire, offered her a beer, and when she laughed at one of his jokes, you felt something snap inside you.
He barely looked at you.
You tried not to give it any importance, thinking it was just one night. That the next day, things would go back to the way they were. But they didn't.
From that point on, Emma showed up at every party, every impromptu get-together, and JJ always found an excuse to get close to her. It seemed like the whole world had shrunk to that girl… except for you.
There was one afternoon when everyone decided to go surfing. You were used to seeing JJ in the water, seeing how his smile lit up when he challenged the waves. But that day, instead of being by your side, he was teaching Emma how to balance on the board. She was laughing nervously, and he was completely focused on her, as if nothing else mattered.
You felt the air grow heavy, like you couldn’t breathe. And though you tried to stay calm, it was hard not to notice how your presence had ceased to be relevant to him.
Later, as everyone relaxed on the sand, JJ walked over to where you were sitting alone, drawing circles in the sand with his fingers.
“Hey, what’s wrong? You’ve been really quiet lately,” he said, his carefree smile on, as if he hadn’t noticed anything.
Of course he hadn’t noticed.
“Nothing. I’m fine,” you murmured, not meeting his eyes.
“Are you sure?” he insisted, leaning slightly towards you, as if he wanted to figure out what you weren’t saying.
“Yeah, JJ. I’m fine,” you said more firmly, even though you knew it was an obvious lie.
He looked at you for a second longer, as if he was about to say something, but then Emma called out to him from the shore. And without a second thought, JJ stood up and walked away, leaving behind a void that seemed to grow ever larger.
That night, there was no “See you at the dock” text.
You stayed in your room, staring at the ceiling, wondering when Emma became his center of attention.
The next few days were silent torment. Emma kept showing up everywhere, and JJ was still by her side, oblivious to you. Every time you saw them together, every time you heard his laughter mixing with hers, you felt like you might… you didn’t even know.
Until one night, when the tension became unbearable, JJ found you alone on the dock, the same place where it had all started. He sat down next to you, the sound of the water breaking the silence between you.
“I’ve noticed you’ve been distant,” he said, glancing at you out of the corner of your eye. “Is something going on?”
You looked at him, and for the first time, you couldn’t hold it in any longer.
“You really don’t notice, JJ?” you asked, your voice filled with a mix of frustration and hurt.
“Notice what?” he replied, genuinely confused, as if everything that was going on between you had been invisible to him.
And there, at that moment, you understood. JJ Maybank was an idiot.
“Forget it,” you whispered, getting up from the spot and walking in another direction.
JJ watched you leave for a second longer, wanting to understand, but in the end, he simply stayed silent. Because to him, everything was fine.
The next day dawned hot, and the beach seemed like the only logical place to spend the afternoon. The boys had decided to surf, while you, Sarah, and Kie settled down on the sand, towels spread out and sunglasses covering your faces. The sun was beating down, and although you tried to relax and concentrate on the light conversation your friends were having, your gaze inevitably sought out JJ.
You found him quickly. It wasn’t hard. He was in the water, near the waves, with Emma. She was laughing, splashing as he helped her stabilize on the board, like he’d done with you so many times before. There was an ease in the way JJ moved with her, like nothing in the world could interrupt them. And it hurt more than you were willing to admit.
“Are you burning?” Kie asked, breaking you out of your thoughts.
“Oh? No… I’m fine,” you answered quickly, adjusting your sunglasses to hide the frown you hadn’t been able to help.
You tried to stay present, to laugh at the right moments, to talk about anything but what was really bothering you. But your eyes kept returning to JJ and Emma, like they were impossible magnets to control. Every laugh from her, every smile from him, stuck in you like a needle.
After a while, you got tired. Tired of pretending you didn’t care.
“I’m going to the water to cool off a bit,” you announced, getting up from your towel and brushing the sand off your legs.
“I’ll join you in a bit,” Sarah said, but you were already walking toward the shore.
The water was cool, an immediate relief from the scorching heat. You waded in up to your ankles, letting the small waves splash against your feet as you stared at the horizon. You took a deep breath, trying to drown out that feeling of discomfort that had been haunting you for days.
The sound of footsteps approaching behind you made you turn your head slightly. JJ.
“Aren’t you going to go any further in?” he asked, with that lazy smile he always seemed to have.
You didn’t answer. Instead, you continued to stare at the water, as if he wasn’t there. As if his presence didn’t affect you.
JJ didn’t seem to be put off by your silence. He moved closer, until he was close enough for his feet to touch the water as well.
“Are you mad at me?” he asked in a nonchalant tone, as if it was all a game to him.
“No, JJ. I’m not mad,” you murmured, not looking at him.
But he knew you well enough to know that wasn’t true. There was a moment of silence, and then, you felt it. His hand brushing your back, his fingers playing with the thin strap of your bikini.
“What are you doing?” you asked, turning to look at him, but it was too late. With a quick, precise movement, JJ peeled off the top strap of your bikini.
“JJ!” “Oh,” you exclaimed, heart racing as you scrambled to hold the fabric to your chest, keeping it from falling. Your eyes filled with a mix of disbelief and anger.
He laughed, that carefree laugh that always seemed to come out of him so easily.
“Relax, no one saw,” he said, quickly looking around. It was true. Sarah and Kie were still talking to each other on the sand, and everyone else was busy in their own worlds. No one was paying attention… except you.
“Why did you do that?” you asked, your voice steady, trying to stay calm as you tied your bikini back up.
JJ shrugged, that mischievous spark in his eyes.
“I wanted to see how you tanned.”
The answer made you boil inside. What was a light joke to him was an invasion to you, a reminder of how he always seemed to take everything lightly, even when you were at the edge of an emotional abyss.
You stared at him, your eyes burning.
“Why don’t you check to see if Emma has tanned?” you shot back, an edge to your voice that you couldn’t hide.
JJ raised an eyebrow, surprised by your response. The amusement on his face faded for a second, replaced by something that looked like curiosity.
“Are you jealous?” he asked, tilting his head, studying you like you were a puzzle he hadn’t finished putting together.
Jealous. The word hung in the air, heavy, loaded with meaning. Of course you were, but you would never admit it to him. Not to him. Not after how he’d been ignoring you.
“Don’t make me laugh, JJ,” you said sarcastically, crossing your arms over your chest. “Why would I be jealous? What you do with Emma is none of my business, is it?”
You saw him tense, if only for a second. But JJ was JJ, and he quickly returned to his carefree facade.
“You’re right,” he said, a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s none of your business.”
The coldness of his words hit you harder than you expected. You felt a lump in your throat, but you refused to show him how much it had affected you.
“Exactly,” you said firmly, giving him one last look before turning and walking away from him, back towards the beach.
As you walked away, you could feel his gaze on your back. But you didn’t look back. Because even though a part of you wanted him to follow you, to say something, anything to show that he cared, you knew he wouldn’t.
After that day at the beach, something changed inside you. It was like you had finally crossed a line that had no way back. You could no longer pretend that what JJ did didn’t affect you, that his indifference didn’t hurt you. So you decided to stop trying.
You would ignore him.
Every time he came close, you would walk away. Whenever he made a group comment, you just looked away. And if he ever tried to start a conversation with you, your answers were short, curt, just enough for him to understand that you didn’t want anything from him.
But it was a lie.
You didn’t hate him. You couldn’t. Not when you still felt that flutter in your stomach every time you saw him smile, or when his laugh, the one that seemed to fill all the space around him, reached your ears. But you wanted him to think you hated him. You wanted him to feel, at least a little, the rejection you had felt.
The first time you deliberately ignored him was at a meeting. You were sitting on the couch, surrounded by friends, when JJ walked in, as always, with an energy that seemed to light up the room.
“Hey,” he greeted, with that easy smile that used to make you melt.
“Hey,” everyone answered, except you.
You didn’t even look up. You just kept looking at your phone, as if he wasn’t there.
He noticed. You knew because he paused for a second, like he was waiting for you to say something. But when you didn’t, he moved toward the group, his smile barely faltering.
Later, he tried to approach you again. You were in the kitchen, pouring yourself a drink, when you felt him behind you.
“Are you hiding from me?” he asked in a light, almost mocking tone.
“I don’t have to hide from anyone, JJ,” you replied without looking at him, your voice so cold it almost surprised you.
He leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched you. It was his classic move, the carefree guy one, but you weren’t willing to fall for it anymore.
“Why aren’t you talking to me?” he finally asked, his tone more serious.
“I have nothing to tell you,” you replied, focusing back on your drink.
“Nothing?” he insisted, taking a step closer. Not even to tell me why you're acting like I did something terrible to you?
You turned to face him, your eyes meeting his. It was hard to stand your ground when he was so close, when you could feel his presence enveloping you.
“I’m not acting. I just have no interest in talking to you. That’s all.”
“Are you sure?” JJ asked, a spark of defiance in his eyes. “Because it seems more like you’re avoiding me.”
You shot him a look loaded with intent.
“JJ, it’s not all about you. You’re not as important as you think.”
The lie came out more bitter than you expected. Because, actually, it was. He’d always been important to you, but you refused to admit it.
JJ fell silent, as if he were evaluating your words. Finally, he let out a low laugh, the laugh that used to enchant you but now only seemed to infuriate you.
“Okay,” he said, holding up his hands in surrender. “If that’s what you want, I’ll leave you alone.”
“Perfect,” you replied, turning your back on him and walking out of the kitchen before he could say anything else.
But it wasn’t as easy as you thought. Ignoring him took more effort than you anticipated. Because JJ wasn’t the type to accept being ignored easily. He was still looking for excuses to get close to you, to invade your space with his unmistakable presence.
There was one afternoon at the beach when you were with Sarah and Kie, laughing and enjoying the sun, when he appeared with his surfboard under his arm. He stopped near where you were standing, as if he was looking for something… or someone.
“You coming to the water?” he asked, addressing the group, but with his eyes on you.
“No. We’re fine here,” Kie replied before you could speak.
But JJ didn’t move. He just stood there, staring at you as if he was waiting for a specific answer. One that never came.
Finally, he turned around and walked towards the water, but not before giving you one last look, as if he was trying to figure out the wall you had put up between you.
The tension between you had grown like a storm about to break loose. Ignoring him had been your strategy, and JJ had played his part at first. But like everything involving him, it couldn’t last long. You were both too impulsive, too passionate to keep pretending you didn’t care.
The opportunity for it all to explode came at one of the parties that always seemed to bring everyone together. With loud music, flashing lights, and the beach in the background. The air was charged with energy, but you were tense from the moment you arrived. You knew JJ would be there, and even though you had spent days perfecting the skill of ignoring him, something told you that tonight would be different.
You leaned against a wall near the kitchen, holding a glass in your hand, watching the crowd dance and laugh. Sarah and Kie were nearby, talking to some guys, but you weren’t in the mood to socialize. Your gaze, as always, sought him out. And you found him.
JJ was there, in the center of the room, laughing with his friends and… with Emma. She was beside him, too close, laughing at something he had said. It was a scene you had seen repeated too many times in the past few weeks, and it hurt more and more each time.
You tried to ignore it, as you had been doing, but that night it was harder. Something inside you was on the verge of breaking.
“Are you okay?” Kie asked, coming closer.
“Yeah, sure,” you lied, giving her a forced smile.
She looked at you curiously, but didn’t insist. She didn’t want to talk about JJ. She didn’t want to think about him… but it was impossible not to.
A couple of hours later, the party was still at its peak. You had decided to go out to the backyard to get some fresh air. The cool breeze was a relief against the heat you felt inside. You were standing, staring at the waves in the distance, when you heard him.
“Are you going to keep avoiding me all night?”
JJ’s voice.
You didn’t need to turn around to know he was behind you. You could feel his presence, so familiar and so frustrating. You pressed your lips together and took a deep breath before slowly turning around.
“I didn’t know I had to talk to you, JJ,” you replied coldly, crossing your arms over your chest.
He looked at you, his blue eyes shining with that mix of confusion and determination that always managed to disarm you. But this time you refused to fall.
“Really?” he asked, taking a step closer. “Are you going to keep doing this? Because I’m tired. I’m tired of you ignoring me, of you acting like I don’t exist.”
You stared at him, your heart pounding. You had expected that confrontation, but now that it was here, you didn’t know if you were ready to face it.
“And what did you expect me to do, JJ?” you asked, your voice rising slightly. “Keep pretending everything was okay? Because it’s not.”
He frowned, crossing his arms.
“Pretending? What are you talking about? Everything was fine until you started acting like you hated me.”
The word “hate” made you shudder. It wasn’t hate, it never had been, but you wanted him to believe it.
“I don’t hate you, JJ,” you said, voice softer this time, but still laden with emotion. “What bothers me is that… you just don’t realize it.”
“Realize what?” he asked, genuinely interested now, his tone more serious.
That was the moment. You could feel it in the air, like everything around you had stopped, waiting for your answer.
“About how I feel about you.” The words came out before you could stop them, and once they were said, there was no going back. “I’ve had feelings for you for a long time, JJ. And every time you ignore me, every time I see you with Emma or any other girl… it hurts.” It hurts more than I can bear.
JJ stared at you, as if he was processing every word. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, and that silence was worse than any answer.
“I didn’t know…” he finally murmured, his voice seeming softer, more vulnerable.
“How could you know?” you said, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “You never looked at me like that. I was always John B’s sister, or just another friend. I was never enough for you, was I?”
He shook his head, taking a step closer. He was in front of you now, so close you could feel his heat.
“Don’t say that. It’s not true.”
“No?” you asked, challenging him with your gaze. “Because that’s how you’ve made me feel.”
JJ raised his hand, hesitating for a moment before gently placing it on your cheek. The contact was electric, as always, but this time you weren’t about to let that confuse you.
“You are more than enough.” You always have been… but I’m the idiot who didn’t see it.” His voice was sincere, full of something you hadn’t heard before: regret.
“JJ…” You whispered his name, your eyes searching for his, but this time there were no barriers. Everything was there, exposed.
And for the first time, there were no more games, no more lies. Just the two of you, face to face, with the truth finally spoken.
JJ looked at you with an intensity you had rarely seen in him. His blue eyes were fixed on yours, and for an instant, everything around you disappeared. It was just the two of you, with the truth floating in the air, no masks, no games.
“I’m sorry,” he finally said, his voice low, but full of emotion. “I never wanted to make you feel that way.”
Despite the emotions bubbling in your chest, a part of you still resisted. You had spent so much time building that wall between you that letting it fall suddenly made you feel vulnerable, exposed.
“JJ…” you started, but he didn’t let you continue.
“Listen to me.” His hand was still on your cheek, and his thumb traced a light circle on your skin, sending a shiver through your body. “I don’t know when I started feeling this… the way I feel about you. But it’s there. I know it now, and I don’t want to ignore it anymore. I don’t want to lose you anymore.”
Your heart skipped a beat. You had dreamed of hearing something like this so many times that it seemed unreal now.
“What about Emma?” you asked, your voice still heavy with caution. “You seem pretty interested in her lately.”
JJ frowned slightly, as if the mere mention of Emma was irrelevant at the moment.
“Emma doesn’t mean anything.” His answer was firm, sincere.
His words made a wave of heat run through you. For a moment, you wanted to believe him, but there was still a part of you that wanted to hold on to the resentment, to the distance you had kept. It was easier than giving yourself over completely.
JJ noticed your hesitation, and with a mischievous smile that you knew well, he added:
“You know, I like it when you ignore me… but I prefer it when you talk to me.”
You couldn’t help but laugh a little, shaking your head. His ability to disarm you with a simple sentence was still intact.
“Don’t get used to this, JJ.” Your eyes met his, a spark of defiance flashing in them. “I may go back to hating you. It was more fun.”
He laughed, genuine and carefree, as if your words were exactly what he needed to hear.
“I doubt it.” He leaned in slightly, getting so close that his breath brushed your lips. “But if you do… I promise I’ll find a way to make you like me again.”
The world seemed to stop for a second. The air between you was thick with tension, but this time it wasn’t the same tension you’d been carrying around for weeks. This time it was different. It was something new, something real.
And when JJ finally closed the distance, brushing your lips against his in a slow kiss filled with everything that had been left unsaid, you knew that no matter how hard you tried to resist, there was no turning back. You were lost in him, as always, but this time he was lost in you too.
#fanfic#oneshot#imagine#x reader#jj maybank#jj maybank x routledge!reader#jj maybank fic#jj maybank x y/n#jj mayback imagine#jj mayback x reader#jj maybank x you#jj maybank x reader#jj obx#jj maybank x pogue!reader#obx fic#obx fanfiction#jj obx fic#jj obx imagine
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In love with you - part 2
Pairing: Powder x fem!reader
Warnings: friends to lovers, SMUT, kissing, fluff
Synopsis: Powder had been your best friend for years, the two of you met when she was running from the cops when she and her brothers broke into and blew up an apartment in Piltover and you helped them escape. What you never imagined, is that the love of your life was always right there in front of you…
A/N: This is a fic about Powder from the alternate universe, it has nothing to do with Jinx.
🌟 English is not my first language, so I apologize if there are any mistakes.
Part 1
💙 @brocoliisscared @bbybubbles @cattjull
Powder was in her workshop working on a project with Ekko when you walked in, making her stop working and look back, she smiled when she saw you. You walked past Ekko, giving him a quick hi, and went to your friend. “Working too hard?” you asked as you wiped a grease stain off her face. Powder felt her skin crawling at your touch near her mouth. “How about a break? Movies, sleepovers, braids on hair? What do you say, huh?”
Powder just couldn't say no to you, how could she? After all, you were her best friend and the person she secretly loved, all she wanted was to keep you close, if not in a romantic way, then she would still have you as her best friend and could simply look at you, dream about you, touch you even if in a subtle way, a friendly way... That's why she never revealed her feelings, she didn't want to lose you, above all you were her best friend, she needed you as a friend too. “Ok, you got me with the braids,” Powder joked. “How stupid of you,” you said with a laugh. “You’re the one who said baby.” You always ignored whatever flared up inside you every time she called you pet names because it shouldn’t mean anything.
“Movies?” Ekko’s voice echoed from the other side of the room, you looked at him, “I don’t want to miss this, can I go too?” You knew that what he really wanted was a chance for a second date with Powder and maybe she wanted that too, but she was just being proud. In reality, you couldn’t know the dissatisfaction she felt inside when you happily agreed to let him go with the two of you.
˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔
Powder was sitting on your bed watching you as you put on your makeup, Ekko was sitting in an armchair in the corner of your room flipping through a physics book he took from your shelf. You took advantage of the heat to wear a short dress that showed off your thighs and highlighted your curves. Powder tried not to look too much or at least be as discreet as possible, but it was getting harder and harder. You took your cherry lip gloss and applied it to your lips, pressing them together to spread the lip gloss. Powder looked away and took a deep breath. God, how she wanted to taste the cherry on your lips.
“Hey Pow Pow, can you tie my dress, please? The straps are loose,” you asked as you sprayed on your perfume. She approached you from behind and pulled the ties of your dress to undo the bow and then retied it again, tightening the ties tighter this time. Her fingers brushing against your skin made your skin shiver, she on the other hand, made a point of touching your soft skin. She always thought about what it would be like to undress you, those thoughts drove her crazy.
“I love the smell of your perfume, it’s so good,” she said finally, resting her hands on your waist and nuzzling your neck to smell you. This was much more intimate than a best friend’s affection, Ekko would have noticed if he hadn’t been too focused on your book. Moments like this weren’t uncommon between the two of you, it happened sometimes. You ignored the signs because Powder was your best friend and this was just her way of showing affection and if you thought otherwise, it was because you were too needy and you knew it. Powder was nothing more than a caring friend who liked to compliment and touch a little too much.
You smiled and put your hands in hers only to remove them from your waist. "You should wear it once in a while since you like it." You said, moving away from her and grabbing your bag. Powder laughed a little to herself, either you were playing dumb or you were simply a fucking dumbass and didn't understand her advances on you or maybe... maybe you just didn't notice it because you didn't want her like she wanted you and that specific thought always brought her back to reality, that she was an idiot in love with her best friend.
˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁
You arrived at the cinema and bought your tickets and popcorn. Powder as usual, bought a strawberry and cream milkshake. She sat in an armchair between you and Ekko. Of course he wanted the seat next to her. “When did this become a date between them and I was the third wheel?” You thought and laughed to yourself. “What are you laughing at?” Ekko asked, tilting his head to look at you. “Nothing,” you replied, pursing your lips. You looked at Powder and noticed that she was tense. You thought about making an excuse and leaving them alone, but you wanted to watch this movie too much for that.
The movie was about comic book heroes and the three of you shared this passion, so as soon as the movie started you were all very apprehensive and entertained. Or at least that's what you thought. You were the only one entertained by the movie, you only moved your hand to grab the popcorn and bring it to your mouth, your eyes never leaving the big screen. You didn't notice that Powder was looking much more at your legs, now very exposed by the dress that rode up when you sat down, she imagined herself between them. "Damn Powder, focus on the movie", she thought to herself. When she finally pushed her dirty thoughts away and focused on the movie, she felt Ekko's hand on hers and his gaze fixed on her. She understood what he was getting at and immediately pulled her hand away from his and kept her eyes on the movie. He snorted and adjusted in his seat to go back to watching the movie.
After a while, you rested your head on Powder's shoulders and your scent that she loved completely infested her and she had difficulty concentrating on the movie again. She wrapped her arms around your neck and you snuggled even closer to her. This gesture wasn't strange between you and not even to Ekko, he knew you were close and took it as a friendly gesture, just like you. Just like Powder knew it was, but wished it was something more.
You crossed your legs, making your short dress ride up even higher. This didn't go unnoticed by your friend and she tried to look away and focus on the movie, but it was too difficult, especially since your skin was crawling from the cold air conditioning in the movie theater. She thought she could make your skin crawl too. God, how she wanted you... She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She felt her insides aching. Was she really getting horny now?
Powder tried hard to change the focus of her thoughts, but it was very difficult with your breathing close to her neck, she looked at you and you were focused on the movie, she wanted to be able to hold your face and kiss you. What would you do if she did that? “I need to go to the bathroom,” she whispered and you pulled away from her. “The movie is almost over, are you going to miss the ending?” you asked in a whisper, but she shook her head.
˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁
When Powder reached the bathroom, she entered an empty stall and locked the door by leaning against it. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying not to think about you too much, but it was too difficult and she needed to relieve herself.
She felt dirty every time she did this, but this was stronger than her. She closed the toilet lid and sat on it, she slipped her hand between her pants and panties and began to play with her own throbbing clit. She closed her eyes at the sensation and bit her lip to keep from moaning as she thrust two fingers inside herself. She sped up the pace of her fingers more and more as she thought about you, your smell, your damn short dress, your legs, she touched herself and imagined herself between them, eating you, fucking you with her fingers, just like she was fucking herself. Nothing would make her come stronger than that.
And then she thought about kissing you and tasting the cherry lip gloss on your lips while your pussy squeezed her fingers and that was when she came, cumming hard on her own fingers.
“Fuck,” she whispered when she was done, removing her fingers from her pants and wiping them with toilet paper. This wasn’t new to her, she’d touched herself plenty of times while thinking about you. But touching herself in a movie theater bathroom, that was new.
You were at the exit door of the cinema with Ekko waiting for Powder to return, the two of you were talking about the movie when she finally appeared. “What took you so long? You missed the end of the movie”, you said when she stopped next to you. “I don’t think milkshakes go with popcorn”, she said massaging her stomach.
˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁
After the movie, you guys went to Zaun and stopped at Vander's bar and ordered some not-too-strong drinks. Gert wasn't working the night shift that day, which Powder was grateful for, so she wouldn't have to see her flirting with you again.
However, Powder's joy didn't last long. Your hexphone vibrated on the table and she could read the message that Caitlyn, your ex-girlfriend, sent you,
"Hey sweetie, I miss u. I can't wait to see you again ❤️".
Powder never really liked any of the people you dated, but she tolerated them all. But with Cait it was different, she really couldn't stand her and never hid it and for some reason, Cait was the only girlfriend of yours who didn't like your best friend. Maybe she noticed something that the others didn't? You couldn't say, but the hatred between them was mutual and it only got worse when Cait cheated on you with Maddie, she always had a soft spot for younger girls.
You broke up with Cait as soon as you found out about her cheating on you and you were devastated by it. You saw her again two months after the breakup and didn't tell Powder because you knew she would get mad. Not that she was wrong, but you were too needy and afraid of breaking up alone, when in reality you just needed a little self-love.
“Y/n,” she practically screamed, “I can’t believe you’re dating her after everything she did to you.”
“Pow, I didn’t get back together with her, I only went out with her once after that and we text each other sometimes, we’re just…”
Powder sniffed and shook her head in disbelief, “Unbelievable,” she said softly before leaving the table, leaving you and Ekko alone. You looked at Ekko and before he could say anything, you went after Powder.
Ekko finally realized something that only you didn’t notice…
should I continue? 👇🏻👇🏻
merry christmas to all ❤️🎄
#arcane#jinx arcane#jinx x reader#jinx x y/n#powder x reader#lesbian#jinx league of legends#powder arcane#jinx#jinx x you#jinx x fem!reader#powder x jinx#arcane league of legends#arcane x reader#arcane x y/n#arcane x female reader#arcane x you
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Cabin Fever - Pt. 3 // LH44
Lewis Hamilton x Y/N
Warnings: Swearing, Alcohol Consumption, Angst, Lewis being an ass, allusions to mental health struggles, 18+ MINORS DNI, not edited
Word Count: 5.3k+
Summary: He's your Sister in Laws best friend, you shouldn't even have to deal with him. Always seeming like a cocky arrogant prick, and now here he is crashing your family Christmas. Can you handle a full week of Lewis Hamilton? Or might he not actually be as bad as he seems?
Notes: A bit more drama for you guys tonight but this is nothing compared to what we've got coming up, oopsie lol. Hoping to get the next part out quickly so it kinda aligns with the holidays in real time! I would also formally like to start an important conversation about why the hell this man only seems to own winter jackets the color of a highlighter (im sure it's for safety when snowboarding but pls). I love you all and I'm so happy you guys are enjoying our angsty little Christmas fic!
As always, I am not a professional writer and all of this is a work of fiction and is strictly for fun. Enjoy!
**italics are a jump back in time**
The moment you make your way downstairs the next morning you are ready to turn and run back up to your room. You can hear everyone in the kitchen already, much to your surprise. Their voices are much louder than you would have wanted but you carry on, aware that the only way you’re getting coffee is by showing your face in there.
“Well good morning sleepy head! I was wondering when you’d show up.” Your dad greets you warmly.
“Hey I was up long before any of you yesterday.” You argue as he pulls you into a side hug.
“I do believe I was up before you.” Lewis pipes up with a smirk.
“Yeah yeah, whatever,” You grumble, trying to conceal the roll of your eyes but when you meet Lewis’ gaze you know you’ve failed, “I need coffee, lots of it.”
Tom laughs from over at the coffee bar where he seems to be making himself some sort of fancy espresso, “Coming right up.”
You thank him, taking a seat next to your brother at the island, watching the chaos ensuing on the other side of the kitchen. Your mother, Beatrice, and Vanessa are in what seems to be party planning mode. They’re rummaging through cupboards and running back and forth to the fridge, Vanessa has a notebook out creating some sort of list, Beatrice is loudly reading some recipe from her phone.
“How long has this been going on?” You ask the men at the counter, trying to keep your voice low.
“About twenty minutes, they’ve probably got another twenty in them.” Lewis says, picking up his coffee and watching the scene himself.
You let out a deep breath, already exhausted by the amount of energy flowing through the room, praying you don’t somehow get sucked into it as well.
“Y/N, thank goodness you’re up!” Vanessa says excitedly, finally noticing your presence on one of her trips around the kitchen.
“Good Morning.” You respond softly, trying not to allow any chance of being roped into whatever is going on.
“So,” Vanessa's voice comes out chipper and matter of fact as she puts her palms down on the counter, evidently ready to give you the full run down, “I felt so bad yesterday, I had so many things planned for a fancy breakfast and the weather just had to ruin it all so I really want to make up for all of it today. Thank you again for pulling that off yesterday, I was so grateful, but I want a big fancy family brunch, we haven't had one in so so long and I’ve been thinking about it since I started planning this trip. And I don’t want it to be our Christmas morning brunch, I want it to be its own special moment, ya know?”
You can tell that your eyebrows have gotten higher on your forehead with every word that she has said, speaking faster than you could ever comprehend at the early hour. You hear your brother take a deep breath from next to you as Lewis chuckles lowly.
“I’m sure it will be wonderful, very talented ladies doing the cooking.” Tom tells his daughter before setting a delicious smelling cup of coffee down in front of you, “Here you go Y/N.”
“Thank you, it smells fantastic.” You say sincerely, happily wrapping your chilly hands around the warm cup.
“It better, I brought my own beans and everything. That should be the best cup of coffee you’ve had in your life.” He tells you proudly.
“It was a phenomenal cup of coffee.” Lewis says with an amused smile on his face, one that Tom seems to read as more genuine than you think it really is.
“Very good, very very good.” Dylan is quickly agreeing.
“Now listen,” Vanessa’s voice is quick to grab your attention again, “you did such an amazing job yesterday with breakfast and then helping with all the storm cleanup,”
Before she can finish Lewis lets out a sound halfway between a laugh and a scoff, cutting her off, “I don’t know if I would call whatever she was doing yesterday helping.” His voice is muffled by the rim of his coffee mug but you can hear the cheek to his voice, more teasing than the jabby tone it usually carries for you, you assume it's because of the current company.
You open your mouth to defend yourself but your brother is joining in quickly, “I mean she made a valiant effort but I do think I have to agree with Lewis on this one.” He’s laughing as he pinches at your side.
You try to find the right words to argue your defense but you realize you really can’t, thinking back to your ways of helping the day before.
You had started strong, initially heading out after breakfast to try to clean up all the branches that had been blown into the yard, that lasted for only twenty minutes before Lewis and Dylan were getting the plow and skidoo out of the garage. Once the big toys were out you had no more interest in your handheld rake and shovel. You had gone over to inspect the new fun equipment but were quickly shooed away by both Lewis and your brother, both claiming you were going to get in the way and possibly end up hurting yourself. You had accepted defeat, heading back to your sad pile of branches before once again getting quite distracted by the fun sound of the engine on the skidoo. You had done your best to act as if you were still working but you had ended up watching Lewis zip around the yard for much longer than you would have liked to admit. There was something about his level of both control and chaos behind the handlebars that scratched your brain just right and it irked you and brought you immense satisfaction all at once. Once your brother had gotten into the swing of plowing, Lewis following him down the hill to keep Vanessa's mind at ease, you had gotten back to your sad attempt at branch removal, by the time they made it back up to the house you were collecting your armful.
“Y/N you do know that it’s been a full hour and you don’t even have enough sticks to make a mouse a campfire, right?” Lewis had taunted you when he saw you walking across the driveway as he removed his goggles, your brother laughing as he hopped out of the plow.
“Oh fuck off, at least I was doing something, you were just joyriding.” You said sassily, quickly changing course so you weren’t walking directly past him.
“I,” He started, his voice long and drawn out to dramatically make his point, “was keeping your brother safe. The buddy system is very important, you know.”
“A knight in shining,” You started to say but before you could get the whole sentence out you were falling flat on your ass, your abysmal stick pile flying everywhere.
“Woah Y/N, shit you alright?” Your brother was quick to react, leaving his open truck door to run over to you.
“You’ve gotta be kidding.” Lewis huffed out, also quickly making his way over to you.
They had both been there within an instant, squatting next to you to make sure you were alright. Your brother was handling you like fine china even though he could tell you were okay, Lewis however was immediately giving you shit.
“You do realize we’ve been here for like twelve hours and this is the second time you’ve fallen in front of me, right?” The tone of his voice was unamused despite offering you his hand to help pull you up.
“I did not fall last night.” You had tried to defend yourself as he got you to your feet, your brother still giving you a worried look like he thought you had secretly broken something.
“Because I caught you.” He had quickly pointed out.
“Whatever.” You grumbled as you bent down to collect your stick pile, admittedly leaving a good half of them behind before once again heading toward your brother's brush pile off by the shed. Before you could even make it half way, a very well aimed snowball was colliding with your ass cheek, once again knocking the sticks out of your arms.
“I am going to fucking kill you.’ You had exclaimed loudly, quickly gathering a large armload of snow to form into your own snowball before turning around and whipping it in their direction. You ended up hitting your brother, immediately feeling a little bad because you assumed it had come from Lewis in the first place. Lewis let out a cackle when the snowball hit your brother, evidently pleased that he hadn’t been the one to get in trouble.
“Oh hell no, that was meant for you.” Dylan had said, also laughing but incredibly serious, his own snowball already being packed tightly to whip at Lewis. Much to your pleasure, Dylan was much closer to Lewis and was much stronger than you so you could tell the impact didn’t feel amazing when it finally slapped into his chest.
“I just thought you should put some ice on it after that fall, I was trying to be helpful.” Lewis laughed as he put his arms up to guard himself from any further snowballs being sent his way. You and your brother exchanged a look, both of you loading up again, hurling snow in Lewis’ direction.
He screamed as he turned to run, his snow gear making him much less agile than he would normally be. He had finally found steady footing, his own snowballs being sent in both of your directions, all three of you in a fit of laughter. Somewhere along the line your alliance with your brother had crumbled, his snowballs being sent your way as well, no longer reserved for just Lewis. By the time you finally called truce you had all been absolutely soaked, your stomachs hurting from laughing so hard and your pile of sticks long forgotten. When you made your way back to the house you had found yourself very surprised at how playful and fun that time with Lewis had been but you decided that it must have been a bit of a fluke, knowing it wouldn’t last the rest of the day.
You try to think of a way to argue your defense but you have to admit to yourself that you really can’t, you truthfully didn’t do any actual storm cleanup yesterday.
“It’s the thought that counts, I tried.” You grumble into your mug as the two men laugh.
“Well, either way, you absolutely slayed it with breakfast and putting up with them,” Vanessa gives you a smirk, trying to take away their ammunition, “so I want you to just relax this morning, Moms and I will take care of all things brunch, you just enjoy the pretty scenery and your amazing coffee.”
You smile at her, mouthing a thank you, grateful that you are not expected to be part of the brunch circus that is unfolding in the kitchen before you. Your mother and Beatrice are still frantically figuring out if they have everything for some recipe that they have selected. You sit back, watching as Vanessa returns to her chaos with your mothers, seeming weirdly at home within it. Tom and your father begin loudly discussing just where Tom is sourcing his coffee beans, raising the volume of the kitchen just that much more. You go to turn to your brother, only to find him standing from his seat to rinse out his coffee cup. Lewis is grabbing his phone and eagerly taking a call, leaving the room rapidly. You let out a sigh, choosing to make your way into the den with your coffee, hoping for some level of peace in there. The room is cozy, a fire already going and a light snow falling outside the large windows. You try to settle into one of the plush couches but as you sit there you feel yourself growing more and more aggravated. On one side you can hear your family in the kitchen, all talking loudly about different subjects that don’t even meld together into anything coherent, on the other side you can hear Lewis’ muffled voice on the phone. You can’t actually make out anything that he’s speaking about but the low timbre is enough to be disruptive. You find it hard to believe that in a house of this size you can’t find any silence, yet here you are, you shouldn’t be shocked with it being your family. You decide you can only take so much and come to the conclusion that you would rather be out in the cold and quiet than in here with the chatter. You take your coffee and head off to the foyer to find your winter gear to bundle up, the better idea of just going to your room nowhere to be seen in your head. You get as cozy as possible, grabbing a blanket out of the den before heading back to the kitchen.
“I think I’m just gonna go sit out back for a little while and appreciate the view while I have my coffee.” You awkwardly announce as you make your way to the backdoor, raising your blanket in your hand as you do.
“That sounds absolutely lovely, enjoy yourself!” Beatrice exclaims, overly enthusiastic about your plans.
When you first step out of the house you begin to question your plans, the cold air immediately hitting your face and wrapping you in an unforgiving cocoon, but the moment the door closes behind you, you’re at peace. The door seals your family and their loud chatter away wonderfully, just the gentle howl of the wind and small noises of things falling in the forest left to be heard. You make your way across the covered deck, settling into one of the luxurious outdoor couches overlooking the large backyard and forest. You snuggle as far as possible into your blanket, trying to keep as much of your body heat as possible. You can feel a deep sigh leave your body as you take in your surroundings, admitting to yourself that as much as you hate winter, you do love the beauty of the blanketing of snow. You sit in silence for a while, just sipping your coffee and enjoying the peaceful way the world is waking up, the snow falling gently. It sadly doesn’t take long for your silence to be interrupted, the door opening behind you. You let out a huff when you see who is making their way outdoors.
“Ocupado.” You say sassily as you turn your attention back out to the view in front of you.
Lewis just scoffs, making his way over to sit on one of the couches near you.
“Seriously, I just need some silence. Do you have nowhere else to go?” You groan childishly, seeing him settling into his seat.
“I let you get warm in front of my fire yesterday, I think you can share the silence of your deck with me now.” He says, his voice just as sassy.
You go to argue with him, wanting to tell him that it’s not the same and his fire was in the den, a common area, but you quickly realize that this too is a common area that you have no monopoly over. You decide to bite your tongue, rolling your eyes as he settles deeper into the couch, pulling his phone out. You decide to do the same, feeling awkward staring into the trees now that you have company. It doesn’t take long before the first post from a friend is popping up on your feed. She is back in California, a small party dress on that would have you getting hypothermia here. The post is about a party that you had known would be happening, a fun Christmas get together with a bunch of your friends that you would have loved to have been at, carefree and ridiculous fun. You let out a huff as you scroll through her post, the fomo eating you alive as you do so.
“Thought you wanted silence.” Lewis grumbles from his spot at the sound of your huff, his voice already laced with annoyance.
“So sorry to disturb you, your highness.” You fire back at him sarcastically.
“It’s just sir, I’m a knight, not technically royalty.” He replies, his voice so cocky that it makes you want to smack him, only stopping when you see the slightly teasing smirk on his face.
You roll your eyes again, not even having the energy to come up with something witty to say back to him in the moment.
“Seriously though, what’s got you in such a mood?” He asks, sounding genuinely curious, much to your surprise.
“I’m not in a mood.” You mutter, burrowing further into your blanket, your attention back on your phone.
He lets out a chuckle at your response, “Yeah the huffing and puffing really sells that narrative well.”
“Oh shut up, you know I don’t particularly want to be here, just let it go.” You say quietly, not wanting your family to hear your disdain for your surroundings.
“I know, and me being here probably isn’t helping that, but it seemed like there was something else going on. Thought you saw something that was upsetting you.” He says casually, shrugging like it’s a normal conversation for the two of you to be having.
You’re taken aback by his casual and genuinely curious nature, not being used to anything like this from Lewis. It takes your guard down, quicker than it should. You let out a sigh, deciding, against your better judgement, to confide in him a little bit. You know he could come back with some level of snippy remark but you were prepared for that, maybe he would actually have a normal conversation with you for once.
“Don’t get me wrong, I love my family, but seeing everyone enjoying their lives as adults and doing what they want, where they want, I don’t know, it’s just driving me a bit insane.” You divulge, not getting your point across in quite the way you meant to.
He raises an eyebrow at you, evidently rather confused by what you mean, “I mean, you’re an adult, you spend 99% of the year doing what you want, where you want. What’s the problem?”
You just shake your head, deciding to instead show him the post that caused the initial huff. You watch as his brows furrow while he scrolls through the instagram post you handed him. Quickly his face turns from curious to judgemental. It’s his turn to roll his eyes as he finally hands you your phone back.
“So you’d rather be back in the smog of LA where you can’t even tell it’s Christmas, dressed in a skimpy dress with your friends? You’d prefer that to fresh mountain air, a white Christmas, and your family that loves you?” His tone is belittling as he reads the situation completely incorrectly, his questions coming out more as statements, as if nothing that you say now will change his mind.
Your jaw drops at the accusation, a loud scoff leaving your throat as you snatch your phone back from him, “How dare you, that was not the point I was trying to make.” You begin to argue before he’s cutting you off.
“You see those people all the time Y/N, how often do you see any of your family?” He raises his brow in challenge but doesn’t give you time to formulate a response before he’s carrying on, “We all know you don’t want to be here, just suck it up, a little bit of winter mountain air and family time isn’t going to kill you.” He doesn’t wait for a rebuttal, he just stands from his seat as if he’s just finished reprimanding a child and walks away, back inside.
He leaves you in your seat, silent and fuming but also leaving you feeling a tad guilty. He is correct, you don’t want to be here, but it has nothing to do with you preferring to be out in a skimpy dress in LA, it’s about your freedom. Having the freedom to do as you please and be where you want, something you haven’t had a ton of in your life. You hate that everyone knows that you would prefer to be somewhere else, making you feel as if you’re almost a burden. You hate that Lewis feels that he has the right to make such deep assumptions about you and treat them as fact and you hate even more that he feels he has the right to lecture you based on those assumptions.
You end up staying out on the back deck much longer than you had originally planned, only finally making your way back indoors when Vanessa announces that brunch is served. You do your best to ignore him, not even looking in his direction. Instead you spend most of brunch quizzing Vanessa on things about her brunch that in all honesty you aren’t particularly interested in, but listening to Vanessa explain how he gets her eggs to fluffy is much better than having to even think about dealing with the man sitting at the other end of the table.
It irks you that you can hear him chatting so freely and happily down the table, as if he hadn’t accosted you on the porch mere hours beforehand. You find yourself already making a plan for escape before you’ve even cleared your plate.
Avoiding him throughout the rest of the day ends up being shockingly easy. You take an extra long time getting ready before helping Vanessa and your mom with some last minute gift wrapping. You can’t help but laugh when you see that Vanessa's “last minute stuff” actually appears to be a majority of her gifts, but you don’t complain, knowing it will take up more of your time, and in turn help in your game of avoidance. You can hear Lewis chatting off in the distance, your father quizzing him eagerly on his car collection after hearing he added something new. Lewis gushed with ease, thoroughly entertaining your fathers questions and while it could be considered a nice conversation you felt like it sounded arrogant, flashy.
“Boys and their toys.” Your mom muttered with a laugh, also listening to bits of the conversation, your father now seemingly showing Lewis photos of a car he had back in the nineties.
“Tell me about it, I couldn’t for the life of me get Dylan out of that plow truck when we first bought it and the snow hadn’t even fallen yet.” Vanessa exclaims, shaking her head.
You just laugh as you lean back to stare out the window for a moment, admiring the way the world is beginning to turn blue as the sun goes down. As if he’s noticed it getting dark at the very same moment, Dylan is bursting into the room talking about Christmas lights.
“Get out, we are not finished in here Mr.” Vanessa is quickly squealing, throwing her body in front of the few remaining unwrapped gifts.
“Okay, okay,” Dylan laughs, throwing his hand over his eyes before continuing, “What I was saying is the lights in the forest look like they stayed up through the storm! It’s getting dark so I was hoping we could all take a walk out there, it’ll be beautiful.”
“That sounds nice Dyl, give us just a little time to get ready.” You say softly, eager to see the lights that have your brother so excited.
“Sweet, I’ll go let the guys know.” He says like a little kid, whipping around to go inform them of the new plans.
“He made an absolute wonderland out there, you guys are going to love it.” Vanessa says, already standing up to collect the remaining wrapping paper, shoving things away like she’s now on a time crunch.
You take that as your sign to go change and get ready for a winter walk. When you go to head upstairs you finally cross paths with Lewis who seems to be headed to his own room, you pause for a moment before flicking your gaze away and trying to move past him.
“Joining us on the walk?” He asks, his voice cold, sounding like he’s expectant of a no.
“Uh, yeah, of course.” You waver slightly, caught off guard that he had any words for you at all. You wished your voice had come out stronger, not wanting him to feel like he had any sort of upperhand, that he had gotten under your skin.
He does actually look surprised, his eyebrows twitching up in a certain judgemental look of disbelief before he is once again turning on his heel. He doesn’t say a word, just walks away to his bedroom.
When you make your way back downstairs, everyone is there and waiting. Dylan is animatedly explaining how he set up with power for the lights and how they follow all of the groomed paths in a certain pattern. Once he notices that you’re there he is directing everyone to follow him to the back yard, still explaining his tree lighting process on the way. You can’t help the grimace that leaves your body when you step outside, the temperature having dropped drastically since you were out here earlier. You try to just burrow further into your coat, not wanting to complain after being made so aware of your attitude earlier today.
As you wander the paths you find yourself mesmerized, Vanessa was right about the absolute wonderland of it all. The glittery lights look like stars, spanning higher up trees than you would like to think about your brother being, but regardless they are breathtaking. You find yourself falling away from the group a bit, too caught up in admiring the gorgeous trees and trying to keep as much of your warmth in as possible. Your family carries on walking, unaware of your sudden slow pace, Lewis however seems to notice and slows down himself. So much that you almost trip over him, having been blissfully unaware of his presence.
“You okay?” He asks you when you’re steady on your feet.
“I’m just fine Lewis.” Your voice is as cold as the outdoor air as you avoid looking in his direction.
“Well, from where I’m standing, you’re shaking like a leaf.” His tone has lost its earlier harshness but still carries that bit of arrogance as you catch him smirking at you out of the corner of your eye.
“Just wore the wrong jacket, I’ll be fine.” You argue, keeping your voice short but still pulling your thin jacket tighter. You're mentally cursing yourself for not having worn your puffer.
“Do you want to head back? I’ll walk with you.” His offer catches you off guard, his voice sincere and almost kind as he continues to stare at you, the smirk gone.
“I’m fine,” You say yet again, your voice slightly quieter now, “Dylan worked hard on this, I’ll survive.”
Just as you once again reiterate your argument a gust of wind comes through, picking up the loose snow and blowing it around you sending yet another chill directly down your spine. Lewis evidently notices the cold seeping deeper into your bones, taking it upon himself to make the decision.
“Y/N and I are gonna head back to the house, she’s getting a little too cold, gonna get her something warm, we’ll see you guys in a bit.” He yells ahead to your family against your will.
“Oh, hun, are you okay?” Your mother is immediately concerned.
“I’m fine, I’m not going back.” You start to insist but Lewis is stepping in yet again.
“She’s fine, just wore the wrong jacket. The lights look amazing Dylan, well come see them when she’s warmed up.” Before you can say anything he’s starting to usher you back down the path, Dylan is thanking him and Vanessa is telling you where to find more blankets.
Lewis is guiding you down the path, his body close against your back and his grip firm on your waist as if you don’t know the way. You hate the way he is manhandling you but you have to admit you are relishing in the warmth coming from the proximity. You don’t allow it to go on for too long, wrenching yourself out of his grip once you’re far enough away from your family. You pick up your pace, both in a show of defiance and actually quite wanting to get back to the warmth of the house. You hear him let out a scoff behind you as you throw your little tantrum.
The heat of the house is immediately welcoming, wrapping around you like a hug the moment you open the door. You take a moment to let the heat sink into your bones before even moving to remove your jacket. Lewis stands there watching you for a moment, just shaking his head before taking off his own large puffer.
“What?” You groan, assuming he has a comment to make.
“You know sub zero temps usually require a little more than a flimsy fashion jacket from the mall, right?” His voice is laced with judgement again, the kindness from the forest long gone.
“Oh, would you just fuck off!” You finally properly snap, whipping your head to face him.
““I’m just saying you’re a grown adult and you’re acting like winter is gonna kill you, you can’t even prepare for it” His response is quick, his tone just as snippy as yours, dripping with arrogance.
“I have a fucking parka in my room, I didn’t know how cold it was.” You throw back at him.
“Mmm sure, or you just wanted to look good for the little walk.” He accuses you, his tone condescending.
“Look good for who? I’m in the middle of fucking nowhere!” You fully yell at him, finally done with his jabs.
He ignores the question, his voice raising but not yet actually yelling, “Have you ever considered that maybe it’s good for you to be in the middle of nowhere once in a while?”
“I do not need some asshole who doesn’t even know me giving me fucking life advice, thank you very much.” You snap, no longer yelling but your voice is harsh.
“Well maybe you do because from where I’m standing you would rather be back in LA partying with your friends to post on Instagram than at your brother's beautiful new house with your whole family that loves you. They fucking want you here and you get to fucking see them, stop acting like its pulling fucking teeth for you to be here.” He actually yells this time, momentarily stunning you.
“Why do you even fucking care so much?” You just about scream, praying that your family is still far away from the house. The two of you haven’t even made it out of the foyer yet.
He just stares at you, his eyes hard and his chest heaving slightly. He opens his mouth before quickly snapping it shut, finally letting out a long, deep sigh. “Ya know what, I guess I fucking don’t. Go take a hot shower before you get fucking hypothermia.” He finally mutters harshly as he storms out of the room, his bedroom door slamming shut not long after.
You stand in the foyer, staring down the hallway where he disappeared, still dressed in your winter jacket. You can feel the tears pricking in the back of your eyes, immediately pissing you off that they can be caused by even Lewis. You bite lips, willing the tears to stop, but then you realize, there it is.
It finally feels like Christmas.
#lvis44#lewis hamilton#lh44#lewis hamilton fanfic#lewis hamilton imagine#lewis hamilton x reader#f1 x reader#f1 drivers#driver x reader#team lh44#lewis hamilton smut#lewis hamilton one shot#lh#lh44 merc#lh44 x reader#f1edit#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#formula 1#f1
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no. 1 party anthem — chapter I
PAIRING: drew starkey x tennis player!reader
CHAPTER WARNINGS: high school au; banter between drew and reader; one (1) suggestive joke (? if it even counts lol); reader and drew love frank ocean lol; minor swearing
WORD COUNT: 2.4k
EDITH SPEAKS: I hope you all enjoy reading this! let me know any thoughts you may have :) I hope this chapter gives a good insight into what reader and drew’s dynamic is like LOL, anyways all kinds of reblogs and feedbacks are always highly appreciated!
series masterlist / join my taglist
— APRIL, 2012
The chatter fills the inconveniently tiny dressing room, students in extravagant costumes and extravagant makeup to match their clothes frantically running around, trying to get everything ready at the last minute. Some are mumbling their dialogues over and over under their breath as if it’s some mantra, some are practicing their specific actions for their role, and some are simply chill.
Like Mr. Joseph.
Drew sits in front of his vanity flipping through his script casually, as if he really doesn’t have the most important role in the play, the warm glow of the bulbs around the mirror only highlighting his makeup more.
“Romeo!”
He looks up, his lips morphing into a smile on their own when he sees you.
You reach up to him and give him a firm slap on his back – something he’s used to, and would never admit to your face that it’s actually hard – a big grin on your face.
“Here to wish you to break a leg,” you say, resting your arm on his shoulder as you look at him sitting as you stand next to him.
“Yeah thanks,” he smiles back, keeping his script on the table in front of him.
“You excited? You’re playing your dream role,” you say back, looking at his reflection in the mirror of him, eyeing his Romeo outfit.
“Uh huh yes I am,” he says, looking at his reflection too, and once running his hand through his hair to fix it.
“Bet you’re excited more about kissing Ms. Cindy on the stage,” you tease, flicking his ear.
His smile falls and his cheeks begin flushing a pink at your words, and what sucks even more is that he can’t even deny it.
“Shut up,” he mumbles, distracting himself with his script again.
You laugh, snatching the script from his hand and ignoring his protests by keeping it out of your reach.
“Oh come on,” you drawl, “I know you are.” You move closer to him, your lips almost brushing his ear as you grin wickedly at his reflection. “You know, even some girls wouldn’t mind getting a taste of her,”
“Yeah okay that’s enough,” he says almost immediately, abruptly standing up from his chair as he clears his throat.
You can’t control your laughter as Drew begins to make his way towards where all the actors required for the first act are assembling, you right on his heels.
“Okay leave that,” you say, “but did you even think about how your parents, and all your little siblings are out there, and are going to watch you get a lip action with Ms. Queen Bee?”
Drew’s walking immediately stops and he turns around to look at you. He can’t get mad at you; ever, actually, but there’s something about that annoying smirk on your smart mouth that’s getting to him.
You can see he’s getting flustered, so you take the bait, of course. “You didn’t, did you?” And you laugh that same laugh each time you tease him: which is almost every minute of every hour you spend together.
“Ugh shut up,” he groans, shutting his eyes and tipping his head back. “You know those little nasty buggers won’t ever stop teasing me, ever,” he mumbles under his breath.
“I know, that’s why I’m going to feed this bit of information that it’s also your first kiss to them,” you grin.
Drew’s eyes widen, a fair hint of warning in them, but before he can say or do anything, you’re rushing to the exit of the dressing room.
“Alright that’s it, good luck!” You say out loud, your voice carrying a sing-song tone as you slip out the door.
Drew takes a moment to regain himself, shaking his head at your antics. He knows you like to mess around a lot, and he also knows about how much you value loyalty in friendships, so even though you said you’ll tell his little siblings about his first kiss being on the final play of his senior year in front of a massive crowd, you actually won’t do it. The thought relieves him immensely, before he redirects his focus back at what he’s actually here for.
He can hear the chatter of the crowd reducing and slowly reaching a bare minimal level, meaning the play is about to start.
Their teacher gives them some final instructions, giving them all words of encouragement as her last words, before allowing the first act to begin.
Drew lets out a deep breath.
Alright, here goes nothing.
⊹₊⋆.˚୨୧⋆.˚₊ ⊹
“There he is! Our superstar!”
Drew’s family’s cheers only get louder as they watch him come into the crowd from the backstage. All the actors are with their families now, greeting them and receiving gifts and compliments, and Drew definitely isn’t going to get something less.
He laughs as he joins everyone, his parents being the first ones to hug him.
“You kissed a girl on stage,” his youngest sister teases, a big grin on her face and his other two siblings giggle with her. He rolls his eyes at them, grumbling a small ‘shut up’ under his breath.
His eyes find yours, seeing you silently laughing at the entire scene. He shakes his head at you and sticks his tongue out, walking closer to you.
“Joseph that was great,” you smile, and you give him the bouquet you got for him.
“You got me flowers?” He grins, taking the bouquet of fresh white lilies and sniffing them. “Why, aren’t you a softie?”
“Shut up,” you mumble, smacking his arm playfully. He only laughs at you.
“Well, thank you sweetheart,” he grins, the nickname slipping out with a gentle ease. It doesn’t happen often, but when it does, it just always seems so natural the way it rolls off his tongue.
You only playfully roll your eyes at him, ignoring the gentle tingling feeling in your tummy from how perfect that nickname sounds in his voice.
After that, he’s quick to be by your side, his arm around your shoulders as you two walk out the theatre.
“So, you up for a drive?” He asks you, “I talked to mom, she’s okay with it,”
“Oh yeah,” you say, “sure,” you smile.
You walk out to the parking lot, where your car is parked. You toss your keys to Drew and he sits in the driver’s seat, you next to him in the passenger’s seat. He drives out of the parking lot of the school, making his way onto the main roads.
You and Drew like to take drives together often. He takes control of the wheel and just drives around roads, your favourite music playing and you both talking about everything. Or sometimes, instead of talking, you opt to stay quiet, which is needed at its own times.
“So, tell me,” you say, your car’s windows rolled down, allowing fresh air to whip past you two inside. “How was your experience playing Romeo and kissing Cindy on stage,” you grin. Your phone – which is connected to the car’s speakers – plays Blonde, right from the first track.
Drew groans, his focus on the road in front of him. “You know, you really need to drop that entire Cindy thing. It was just a peck,” he says.
“Peck? A peck? Mister you were making out! You weren’t starring in some adult version of Romeo and Juliet mind you,” you shoot back, but your grin doesn’t wipe off.
“Ugh whatever,” he mumbles, his gaze not wavering from the view in front of him. You sigh quietly, relaxing against the seat.
“No but seriously, Drew,” you begin speaking, your voice taking a softer tone, “you were really good. Like, seriously, you were… amazing. That was really some Broadway level acting right there,”
Drew remains quiet and you look at him, watching how his lips slowly curve into a small smile.
“Is that so?” He asks, his own voice slightly soft.
“Yeah,” you smile, “I was… amazed. You’ve done so many plays for the school and I always tell you how good you’ve been, but this one… you were exceptional,”
A bashful expression takes over Drew’s face, and you watch how a soft blush sprinkles his cheeks and a gentle smile only widens on his lips.
“I… I worked hard for this one,” he says, taking a glance at you before focusing back on the road, “like, I really did. We used to have 5 hour rehearsals for days on end and…” he lets out a deep breath, a small silence falling over you two, only Frank’s voice to accompany you, “yeah.” He chuckles softly. “It was draining, but it was fun,”
“You know what I think?” You begin speaking, and he hums in response. “I think you can make it. Like, to Hollywood, or Broadway, or maybe both. I really think you can,”
Drew lets out a small laugh at your words. “Hollywood? Broadway? I have a one in a million chance to make that, you know,” he chuckles.
“I know, and I really do think that one chance is all yours,” you speak. Drew can hear the conviction in your words, the way you’re still saying how you believe he can make it even when he made a small joke to lighten the mood.
Drew catches another glance of you before focusing back on the empty road in front of him. “You really think so?” He mumbles softly. “I can make it? I can be a Hollywood star?”
There is a hopeful glint to Drew’s voice, as if what you say is what always turns true.
“Yeah,” you smile softly, “I really think you can. Just think: Joseph Starkey, biggest actor of all time. I can imagine your face plastered on billboards everywhere,”
He laughs at your words. “Joseph Starkey sounds dorky. I think I’ll let my name be Drew Starkey instead,”
“Okay okay, Drew Starkey does it too,” you laugh. “But, whatever the name will be, trust me, if you work for it, you’re gonna get it,”
Drew smiles at you, and you lean back against your seat, looking out as you watch all the houses and trees whip by, Solo playing on the speakers.
“You know,” he begins speaking after a moment or two of silence, and you turn your head to look at him, “you’re probably the only one who really believes in me that way. I mean, yeah, my family does too but, it’s different with you,” he says softly, “which, is why I want you to be the first person who I tell this to,”
You furrow your brows at his words and sit up straighter in the seat, looking at him. “Yeah what is it?” You ask.
“When the play finished and all of us were backstage,” he begins, and you watch him speak from his side, “Ms. Lydia bought this man there. He is the owner of this huge film camp that he organises each year for the summers, and… along with a select few, I was offered to attend this camp,”
Your eyes widen at his words. “What? Oh my god dude that’s insane!” You exclaim. “Tell me you’re going, you have to go!”
Drew softly laughs at your excitement, catching a glimpse of your elated expression. “Well, missy, it’s not here, it’s in Boston, so that means I’ll be away for the entire summer,”
For a moment, Drew doesn’t hear anything from your end. He turns to look at you, and when he does, he realises he can’t really pinpoint the expression on your face. Your lips are slightly parted: but besides that, there’s no other emotion present.
“What?” He chuckles, now looking back at the road. “Don’t go all mute on me, say something,”
“So that’s… three months in Boston,” you say slowly, almost cautiously, as if you’re testing the words on your tongue.
“Yeah, three months in Boston,” he repeats. “Oh come on, don’t say you’ll miss me or some shit. Such a sap,”
“What? No, who said that?” You retort back immediately, and Drew chuckles at your attempt to deflect facing your actual feelings. “It’s that I’m worried, you know?”
“Uh huh, how so if I may ask?” He asks amusedly, shaking his head at your antics.
“I’m worried ’cause uh… A: you’ll be going so far from home on your own for the very first time,” you begin, “and… and B, you won’t know how to do your… laundry,” you finish lamely.
“Laundry?” Drew chuckles amusedly. “I know how to use a washing machine, you know? I think me and my laundry will be absolutely fine,”
“Okay, well that’s… that’s good to know you have all that in check,” you mumble under your breath, turning to look back out the car. You can hear Drew silently laughing to himself at your ‘concerns’ regarding him, and you force yourself to keep on ignoring it.
“Well,” Drew is the one to break the silence. Your ears perk up at his voice but you don’t turn to look at him. “I’ll miss you, a lot,” He says, and his voice is toned down, and is incredibly tender.
Drew knows what you’ll do: you’ll take his words and turn them into your advantage, a sinister smile curving your beautiful lips, and you’ll laugh that pretty laugh, and call him a ‘softie’ or a ‘sap’ and tease him endlessly.
But, you don’t.
“I’ll miss you too,” are the words which leave your lips instead, and Drew is taken aback. He keeps his emotions in check though, keeping a straight face as he keeps on driving.
You both fall silent yet again, and all that’s accompanying you this time is Self Control playing. The melancholic rhythm along with its soulful lyrics and Frank’s voice really isn’t doing much to subdue the sudden awkward silence between the two of you.
“But…” Drew begins to speak, “I still don’t know if I’ll attend it, you know? I mean, I still have to consider it with my parents and… and yeah, all that jazz,” he says with a short chuckle.
“Uh yeah, yeah yeah that makes sense,” you say, trying to uplift the mood in the car. “But… you should go, it’s a very good opportunity for you,”
Drew catches a glimpse of you and passes you a small smile, which you return. He focuses back on the road, and you opt to look back out of the car, your head resting back against the seat.
Usually, he sometimes yearns for this kind of silence with you, because it’s comforting, and even when he knows something’s bothering him, realising you’re by his side automatically makes the problem seem smaller.
Each other’s presence, the weight of the unsaid words and Frank’s singing is all you have with you, as Drew continues to drive on your usual route.
⊹₊⋆.˚୨୧⋆.˚₊ ⊹
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tagging a few moots: @runningfrom2am / @zyafics / @ilyrafe / @nemesyaaa / @ladyinbl00d / @jjsbank444 / @b1mb0slvt / @maddsxfall / @congratsloserr / @oceandriveab
#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey fanfiction#drew starkey fanfic#drew starkey imagine#drew starkey fluff#drew starkey x you#drew starkey x y/n#drew starkey series#drew starkey oneshot#drew starkey fic#𓂃𓏲 ⋆˙ ₊˚⊹ written by edith ꒷ ᵎᵎ#𓂃𓏲 ⋆˙ ₊˚⊹ edith writes drew starkey ꒷ ᵎᵎ#𓂃𓏲 ⋆˙ ₊˚⊹ divider creds: plutism ꒷ ᵎᵎ
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Yandere! Serial Killer
♢ Yandere! Serial Killer whose on the run from the police, "she" had been careless with one of "her" victims, a rare slip-up for someone who prided "herself" on precision. Evidence left behind, a single, damning thread now had the authorities breathing down "her" neck.
Yandere! Serial Killer who isn’t new to the game. "She" had been turning victims into works of art for years, taking people who were in horrible accidents barely clinging onto life before "she" takes them and turns them into dolls.
Now "she's" forced to lay low, with a disguise. A wig cascaded down "her" back, pastel highlights blending effortlessly.
Dainty hands adjusted the straps of a tight pink corset while "she" checked "herself" in the mirror. Thick thighs hugged by stockings, soft pink lips curling into a knowing smirk.
The police would never suspect "her." No one ever did.
Yandere! Serial Killer wandered into a coffee shop one day, and spotted you. Instantly remembering you as "her" high school crush, never really spoken a few shy 'hi's' here and there. "She" mainly just observed from afar since you was always surrounded by people.
You was a senior and "she" was a sophmore, so when you graduated and left the school it broke "her" heart. Never able to confess to you about "her" feelings or even managing to court you.
Yandere! Serial Killer who thinks this was fate, a second chance and was about to walk over to you until "she" froze. All of a sudden remembering "her" current situation, you wouldn't even recongnize "her" because of the disguise.
It's not like "she" could walk right up to you without it either "she's" a wanted criminal. And "she" highly doubts you haven't seen "her" actual face on the news.
Yandere! Serial Killer who scans your face with the same precision "she" uses to memorize her victims’ features. But you’re different. You’re not a victim. You’re special. There’s a maturity to you now, a depth that makes "her" want you even more.
Yandere! Serial Killer who bit "her" lips, and decided to take this chance, "she" can’t let you slip away again. Not this time.
Yandere! Serial Killer approaching you and striking up a conversation, "she" felt a familiar shiver down "her" spine when you had stated "she" looked familiar to someone you remembered in high school. Asking if "she" had a brother.
Yandere! Serial Killer who dreamt of this moment over and over finally able to have a real conversation with you, instead of shying away. Feeling very giddy unable to hide "her" excitement.
Yandere! Serial Killer who suddenly felt hot beneath the tight corset, feeling how "her" body betrayed "her". "Her" plush thighs pressed together as "her" mind wandered to places it shouldn’t, not here, not now. The pink lace of her stockings suddenly felt too tight, feeling a familiar pressure between "her" legs.
Pretty manicured fingers gripped the coffee cup a little too tightly as "she" forced "herself" to focus. "She" couldn’t scare you away, not yet.
Yandere! Serial Killer who nearly combusts when you exchange numbers. You think "she’s" just a bubbly, harmless old acquaintance from high school. How could you have known the truth?
Yandere! Serial Killer who as soon as "she" got back home "she" needed to take care of "her" growing problem. "She" couldn’t stop thinking about you. Replay after replay of your conversation danced in "her" mind as "she" stroked "herself", soft moans of your name muffled by "her" pillow.
Yandere! Serial Killer who after coming down from "her" high decided on that day "she" won’t lose you again. This time, "she’ll" do it right. "She’ll" worm "her" way back into your life, just like "she" always dreamed of in high school.
Yandere! Serial Killer who becomes your best friend. "She’s" bubbly and sweet, always making you laugh. "She" agrees with everything you say, knows just what you’re thinking before you say it. You’re amazed by how connected you feel to "her"—like "she" knows you better than you know yourself.
You didn’t know it yet, but your other friends were disappearing. They were vanishing. And "she" was collecting their pieces—literally and figuratively.
Yandere! Serial Killer who was thinking about courting you and make "her" feelings known to you, but remembered "she" was playing a character and not as "herself" due to unfortunate circumstances which never fails to piss "her" off.
Yandere! Serial Killer often wondered if you would still like "her" if "she" came clean, wondering if you’d call "her" insane if you found out the truth. Would you turn "her" in? Would you scream? "She" dreams about it sometimes, imagined your tears, your pleas.
Yandere! Serial Killer who finishes stitching up "her" latest "doll" a person who dared flirt with you and sighs. Blood smearing on the cigarette "she" lit, taking a long drag. "Her" mind drifts back to you. The thought of losing you again terrifies "her" more than the police ever could.
Yandere! Serial Killer who finally snaps when "she" stalked caught you going on a date with someone else. The sight of you all dolled up for them. Smiling, and laughing, made "her" heart shatter into a million jagged pieces.
Yandere! Serial Killer's face twists into something hideous, a snarl that looks entirely out of place on the delicate, doll-like face "she’s" crafted. This wasn’t just jealousy—it was betrayal. An ultimate, unforgivable sin.
"You’ll regret this," "she" whispers under "her" breath, "her" voice dripping with venom. "I’ll make sure you never even think about leaving me again."
Yandere! Serial Killer who dragged your mangled unconscious body out of your destroyed car after the brakes mysteriously failed.
Yandere! Serial Killer who immediately got to work, "her" fingers expertly weaving through "her" collection of needles and threads. The crazed grin on "her" lips only widened as "she" stitched up the injuries, "her" blood-streaked hands steady.
Yandere! Serial Killer who smiled when "she" saw your eyes flutter open, the haze of confusion clouding your gaze as you took in your surroundings. Noticing you was sitting on "her" oddly broad lap.
Yandere! Serial Killer who laughed as "she" cooed at you, as you tried to sit up, only to realize how weak you were.
"Aw, don’t overexert yourself, dear," she cooed, "her" voice now much deeper and malicious. "You’ve been through so much already."
Yandere! Serial Killer who cradled you on "her" lap, ignoring your weak protests as you squirmed against "her". You froze when you felt it. A hard, unmistakable pressure pressing against your ass.
Yandere! Serial Killer who’s playful facade cracked as "her" hands reached for "her" pastel wig. "She" tugged it off in one swift motion, revealing short, messy blonde hair. "Her" expression darkened, "her" once-cheerful smile now replaced by something dead.
Yandere! Serial Killer who wordlessly reached into his bra, pulling out the fake silicone breasts with a quick flick of his wrist and tossing them aside like trash. His movements were stiff, irritated, his patience thinning. He stared at you with a mix of boredom and contempt.
Processing how his face was bare, but he was still sadly pretty his androgynous features seemed to have helped him go unnoticed. All the pieces finally clicking together.
"Recognize me now?" he muttered, his voice low, almost a growl. "You should. They’ve been plastering my face all over the news."
Yandere! Serial Killer who motioned toward the table in front of you, a silver platter gleaming under the warm, pink light of the room. Your stomach churned as he lifted the lid with a dramatic flourish, revealing the severed head of the person you’d been seeing.
Yandere! Serial Killer who grinned as your eyes widened in horror, tears streaming down your face as the realization hit you like a freight train. Their severed body parts were arranged grotesquely around it, the intestines draped like an awful decoration. The sight sent a wave of nausea rushing up your throat.
"Thought we’d have dinner together," he said mockingly, "I couldn’t let them come between us, after all."
Yandere! Serial Killer who sweetly kissed your cheek seeing the look of dawning horror on your face. This was pure madness. Your heart hammered in your chest as tears welled up in your eyes.
Now noticing the overwhelming stench of death, sweat, and something sweeter like rot; clung to the air...coming from the dolls around his room. Some were disfigured, their faces distorted, stitched up where the skin had been torn or burned.
The worse part is how stiff you felt gazing at your hand you see your wrists stitched up, lifting you shirt you see large lines long, jagged stitches, crude and uneven.
You realized with sickening clarity...you were another one of his creations.
"You’re mine now," he purred, leaning in so close his breath ghosted over your skin. "And nothing, no one, is going to take you away from me."
#male yandere#yandere#yandere oc#yandere scenarios#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere headcanons#cw: gore#horror#yandere drabble#yandere male#yandere tendencies#yandere serial killer
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𝚂𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚂𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚂𝚘𝚏𝚝 𝙻𝚒𝚙𝚜
𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: On the most romantic night of the year—December 24th—what should’ve been a simple mission leaves you walking home through snow-dusted streets with Gojo Satoru, a boy you’ve had a hopeless crush on for as long as you can remember. The falling snow and quiet glow of streetlamps set the perfect scene… until he casually asks if you’ve had your first kiss.
𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 — teen!gojo satoru x gn reader
𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 — fluff
𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 — really shy reader, pining, reader has a crush on Gojo, first kiss, romantic setting.
𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 — 1,5 k
𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 — Just a mini special! Consider this a small Christmas gift from me to all of you. I hope this brings a little joy your way. Thank you for being here, and Merry Christmas! c:
𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎 — sia - snowman
𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝
"What a pain..." he groaned, his voice cutting through the stillness "Why’d we even have to do that mission tonight? Christmas Eve, seriously?"
The snow crunched softly beneath your boots, muffling the sound of your steps as you walked beside Gojo. The mission had taken longer than expected, and now the two of you were making your way back through the quiet streets. A thin layer of snow blanketed the ground, dusting the branches of the trees lining the road. Street lamps cast faint halos onto the snow, their warm light stretching out in pools along the empty path.
Gojo let out an exaggerated sigh, stuffing his hands deeper into his coat pockets as he tilted his head back, staring dramatically at the falling snow.
You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, feeling the way your cheeks warmed up despite the chill in the air. It wasn’t unusual for him to complain - if anything, it was part of his charm - something about his tone always made your heart flutter.
"It wasn’t that bad." you said quietly, your breath curling in the frosty air.
He shot you a sideways glance, his glasses lowered, white hair speckled with snowflakes. His scarf, sloppily thrown around his neck, billowed slightly in the wind.
"Not that bad? We could’ve been in warm beds right now, drinking hot chocolate or something. But nooo, we’re out here fighting curses in the snow like in some tragic drama."
You suppressed a smile, biting the inside of your cheek.
He had a point. The mission had been cold and tiring, and you were already beginning to feel the weight of exhaustion creeping into your legs. Still, there was something... so nice about this. Just the two of you, walking side by side in the quiet winter night.
And the imagine of you with him, under a blanket, sharing hot chocolate as snow gently tapped against the window. Dreamy, to find yourself in such a scenario with him.
Well, it wasn't surprising, you had a crush on him since forever.
Gojo’s breath puffed out like soft clouds as he spoke again "Everyone else gets to be at home, watching movies or doing couple-y stuff." he nudged you lightly with his elbow, his tone turning teasing "Bet you’re sad you’re stuck with me, huh?"
Your heart stumbled in your chest, you gripped the edges of your scarf tighter, as if it might somehow hide the heat blooming on your face.
"N-no." you mumbled, hoping your voice didn’t betray the way you felt.
"Aw, come on." he leaned closer, peering at you with that mischievous glint in his eye "Don’t tell me you’re enjoying this."
"I—I just think the snow is pretty." you deflected, focusing intently on the snow-covered path ahead. The way the street lamps lit up the flakes made them look like falling stars. Anything that might help turn his attention away from you.
Gojo hummed thoughtfully, falling quiet for a rare moment "Yeah." he said softly after a beat "I guess it is."
His voice had lost its bratty edge, settling quieter, almost thoughtful. When you glanced at him again, you noticed the way his gaze softened, lingering on the snow-laden branches overhead. The orange glow from the lamps highlighted the curve of his jaw and the faint smirk tugging at his lips.
You catch yourself looking at him, heart squeezed in your chest at the realization. You quickly looked away, afraid he might catch you staring.
"Hey." Gojo’s voice broke the silence again, but this time his tone was playful "Have you had your first kiss yet?"
You nearly tripped over your own feet "W-what?!"
Gojo snickered, clearly enjoying the sight of you flustered "I’m just curious. You seem like the type who’d get all red and shy about it."
"I—I don’t see why that matters!" you stammered, feeling your face heat up more with every word.
He grinned, watching you with that, stupidly handsome amused expression of his "Ohhh, I’ll take that as a no."
You huffed, pulling your scarf higher over your face, but the warmth in your chest lingered despite your embarrassment. You desperatly wanted to hide you face from him.
Suddenly, Gojo tilted his head, his voice dropping to a low, teasing murmur "Want me to change that?"
Your eyes widened in shock, your heart racing painfully in your chest "W-what?! No—I mean, I—"
The more you tried to respond, the hotter your face felt, your words tangling over themselves hopelessly. You became a blabbering mess. Gojo burst out laughing, his breathless chuckles filling the cold air.
"Relax, I’m just messing with you." he said with a grin, though the glint in his eyes suggested otherwise.
You slowed your steps, letting him pass you by just slightly. The sound of his footsteps continued ahead as you lingered behind, your breath visible in the cold night. You glanced down at the snow, your breath curling like smoke as it left your lips. The quiet was heavy, but it felt like the kind of silence that could shatter with just one word.
And it did, with one sentace.
"I... I want you to change that." you said softly, barely above a whisper, more to yourself than to him.
Gojo stopped mid-step, the snow crunching softly beneath his feet. Slowly, he turned around to face you, his expression unreadable under the dim light of the streetlamp.
Then, with a devilish grin, he leaned slightly forward.
"Oh? You really just said that? Bold of you. What if I’m terrible at it?" he smirked wider, tilting his head playfully "But~ I could go all out – twirl you under the streetlamp, dip you low, and make it look like a scene straight out of a cheesy romance movie. How’s that sound?"
Your face burned hotter than ever, and for a second, you couldn't even look at him. The thought of Gojo actually doing that- of his hand gently reaching for yours, his face inching closer under the soft glow of the streetlamp - felt like too much to bear. You think you're on a verge of heart attack.
"Forget it!" you blurted, your voice higher than intended. So many emotions mixing under your shy shell. You stared walking again, embarrassed.
Gojo laughed again, hands behind his head as he strolled ahead.
After a few steps, he slowed, letting his arms drop to his sides as he turned and stepped closer to you. You also stopped your steps.
His face hovered just a little too near. Intense gaze lingered on yours for a heartbeat too long, his bright blue eyes glimmering under the faint light, framed by delicate white lashes that catched the falling snow.
Slowly, he even stepped closer, his hand gently curling around your wrist as he pulled you toward him, the soft fabric of his coat brushing against your arms. Your breath hitched in surprise, but you didn't pull away. You couldn't grasp what was going on.
His breath warmed the space between you. Then he leaned in, the tip of his nose grazing yours for just a split second before his lips met yours.
Oh wow.
He kissed you.
It was so shy, so soft, that it almost doesn't resemble his style at all. You dreamed of tasting his lips, which proved to be warm, plush and faintly sweet, like the lingering trace of candy or the memory of laughter shared on a quiet afternoon. The brushes of his pink lips sent a shiver down your spine, and you found yourself leaning in without realizing it.
Gods, you're kissing him.
The heat from that though spread through your chest, making your heart hammer loudly in your ears, drowning out the world around you. His white lashes fluttered faintly as his eyes half-closed, and for a second, you thought he might pull away.
But no, instead, his hand slid gently to your lower back, pulling you impossibly close, and his kiss grew more assured. A little more intense. You rested your hands against his chest for stabilization, fingers curling into the fabric of his coat. His heartbeat thumped faintly beneath your touch. Your head began to spin and you knees slightly bend from the sensation of his tongue against yours.
His arms tightened around you, as if he could feel you melt in his embrace.
You pulled away after a while, breathless, hearts racing wildly. That was the best first kiss ever.
"How'd that go?" he asks, his voice low and playful, but still mesmerized as if he was still savoring the kiss as much as you were.
You, completely captivated, red and mushy, manage a soft.
"Amazing." your voice wavers slightly, betraying the lingering breathlessness he left behind.
He chuckles, the sound warm enough to melt the snow between you, and reaches out to adjust your scarf with a gentle touch. His fingers brush against your neck for the briefest moment, sending a ripple of warmth through you despite the chill in the air.
"How about more of that… and some hot chocolate when we get back?" he suggests, his signature boyish grin on place, yet there’s a bit of softness in his expression that makes your heart flutter all over again.
You nod, unable to suppress the big smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.
© noira-l | all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, or redistirbute my work without permission
#satoru gojo x reader#gojo x reader#satoru gojo x you#gojo satoru fluff#jjk fluff#jjk x reader#gojo fluff#satoru gojo x y/n#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen fluff#gojo x y/n#gojo x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujustu kaisen x y/n#teen gojo
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Tw: female reader, slight dub-con to con, degradation, sex toys pt.1 Happy Valentine's 💞💞💞
Bitchy mean girl, who basically forces you to come to her house every weekend with the pretext that she needs tutoring - and who's more fitting to help her fix her grades than her favourite little nerd?
You actually come prepared too, pink cutesy backpack stuffed with textbooks, footnotes, highlights and colourful markers. But the moment you step inside her house and Jess sees the sheer academic arsenal you've prepared, she burst into torching, mocking laughter. She flicks at your forehead, wiping off a single tear.
"You really thought we were going to study?" She scoffs, dragging you into her lap - smirking as she watches you panic and whine to be let go. She kisses you roughly, determined to get your lips fully wet and shiny, saliva dripping down your chin once she finally pulls away. "You're more stupid than I thought." The cheerleader grins with endearment. "You're lucky you're so cute."
She takes hold of both your thighs and spreads them apart, leering at the lacy white panties peeking underneath your skirt.
"Looks like you came prepared after all." Jess taunts, playing with the flimsy, frilly pink lining - toying with the little ribon in the middle of it. "Maybe deep down you knew this would happen." She grips your jawline, forcing your head up - eyes set on her lips. "Or ma-aybe... you were actually hoping it would." Her hand slips to your neck. "Which one is it, little slut?"
"N-no, it's not like that!" You try to defend yourself, cheeks heating up by the second. "I-I, I wasn't, I didn't-" You stumble all over your words - but your body betrays you, back arching wantonly as Jess brushes a single finger across your clothed slit. Giggling with content at your desperation, she starts rubbing you over your panties, enjoying the way you squirm and shake your head as if fighting the pleasure.
"You weren't what, nerd? You weren't trying to get yourself fucked like a proper whore?" The girl all but hisses down your throat, biting at your jugular - letting her lips soothe the initial sting. "You weren't trying to be all slutty and cute, making me want you?" You can feel her fingers finally, finally make their way down the elastic band, cupping your mound before the first digit slips inside you, forcing a lewd, breathy moan out of you. "You're so wet for me, yet you keep acting like you don't want it."
Her lips stretch into a thin, self evident smirk as she reaches for something in her pocket you can't make out from beneath her. You suck in a sharp breath, eyes still glassy from her teasing - both anxious and excited to see what's next.
"I have just the right thing for a little bratty bitch like you." Jess pulls you into yet another messy, sloppy kiss, grinning at the sight of your chin stained all over by her bright red lipstick. It makes you look so... hers. "Let's see how long you can hide your true feelings once I have you coming your brains out." She says, teeth bared with a sadistic little gleam in her dark blue eyes. You hear a buzzing sound - and then your vision fills with blurry lines and stars and raw, red - hot pleasure you can feel deep in your guts.
The cheerleader nests the small vibrator snugly against your clit, setting your nerves on fire. It's all too much - her soft, delicate hands touching you all over, the dirty whispers in your ear egging you on, the waves of ecstasy flooding your body each and every second. You try to catch your breath, but every time you open your mouth, the sounds that come out are all whiner and needier than the last.
"Aww, you're already doing so good for me, baby." Jess coos, head resting against your shoulder - holding you down tightly as your body writhes and jumps as if devoid of any control. "See? It's so much better to be honest." She presses the vibrator down once again, watching your button swell and twitch in overstimulation. "Let go completely." She licks your neck, driving you even wilder. "Let me make you mine, m'kay?"
And you think, hell, you might as well.
#yandere#yancore#female yandere#female yandere x reader#yandere smut#yandere oneshot#yandere x you#female yandere x you#female yandere x female reader
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Halloween night~Jude Bellingham
Wearning: +18, smut, english is not my first language
The Halloween party at Kylian’s house was in full swing, but despite the colorful music and lights, the atmosphere between you and Jude was tense. You had a big fight just before you arrived, and now he couldn’t take his eyes off you, irritated by the way you ignored him.
You were dressed as a sexy cop: your tight uniform, high boots and provocative badge left nothing to the imagination. Jude, on the other hand, was the "prisoner" of the evening, with a striped suit and handcuffs that, ironically, you had chosen to keep. Your naughty laugh with his teammates and friends of Kylian seemed to only make Jude’s mood worse, who watched you with a raised eyebrow and an increasing tension in his eyes.
"You really want to ignore me all night?" she whispered in your ear as she stopped you against the kitchen counter. "Or do you think it’s enough to ignore me and flirt with anyone to make me nervous?"
But you just smiled innocently. "I’m not ignoring anyone, Jude. Maybe it’s you who’s taking everything too seriously."
He closed his eyes, clearly trying to keep calm. "You are really testing my patience."
With a mischievous air, you pulled the cuff from one of his hands and attached it to his wrist, making him laugh ironically. "Very funny, officer," she whispered in a husky voice. "But don’t think you’ll escape me so easily."
When Jude gave you that look of irritation and possessiveness, you stared at him with a smirk that said it all: you didn’t believe for a moment that he was really angry. With a shrug and an innocent expression, you walked away, leaving him there to puff out of frustration.
As he watched you move away, his gaze fell upon your police costume. The very short skirt barely touched your thighs, highlighting your legs and leaving little room for imagination. Every movement you made seemed to draw attention, and Jude found himself biting his lip as a growing jealousy crept into his chest. The way the fabric adhered perfectly to the curves of your hips and your butt made him rise a mixture of anger and desire.
When Jude finally returned to the main hall, he immediately saw how the boys around you were looking at you. Some cast you stared in obvious admiration, others smiled at you, looking for any excuse to talk to you and earn a little of your attention. But what really made him angry was that you weren’t ignoring them at all. On the contrary, you answered with that provocative smile of yours and let their looks follow you as you moved around the room.
Jude clenched his fists, breathing deeply to try and calm down. He could not believe how you were behaving. Every gesture, every light laugh, every mischievous look you threw at the guys around you seemed calculated to provoke him.
At last, he approached you, whispering in a low and possessive tone: "Do you really think that you can continue to behave like this without consequences? You’re a little bitch, but you know you’re still mine."
You smiled without losing your provocative attitude. "Oh yes? Because it doesn’t seem to me that you can handle the situation, Jude..."
His eyes darkened. "Be careful, because when we get out of here, I’ll remind you who’s in charge."
And there he was on his bed, naked with your ass up while you were already coming twice but Jude didn’t care, he pushed hard his cock inside you while holding your wrists locked in which were in turn locked by the handcuffs.
You can’t look at him but you could feel his anger and possessiveness as you felt your sore pussy as Jude banged his cock inside of you ignoring your pleading to slow down. The more you told him to slow down, the more he’d push and slap you on the butt
"You had fun teasing me all night, didn’t you?" He murmured with a deep tone, the warm breath near your ear as he was fucking you hard. A shiver ran down your back as he pulled your hair to one side and lowered his head, starting to bite your neck. His bites were sensual but at the same time possessive, alternating with sensual kisses, but always with that possessive touch that made you feel completely in his hands.
He kept fucking you while you felt that you were coming on his dick for the third time that night, you felt overstimulated but Jude did not seem to care. You tried to move but the cuffs were tight, reminding you that Jude was in control. You felt his fingers exploring the curve of your back, going down your hips, while he kept biting you, leaving little marks as if to claim every inch of you and push you inside.
"This is the punishment for your naughty behaviour," he whispered at one point, his voice slightly hoarse as his hands brushed firmly against you. "Now there is no one to admire you... but me."
Under the weight of his cock that was destroying your pussy as your apology started to come out in a broken whisper, while he kept on keeping control without any intention to slow down.
"Sorry... Jude, please..." you murmured, the voice trembling, but he did not want to stop. On the contrary, you felt a low and provocative laugh slip from his lips.
"Ah, now do you mind?" he said amused, as he approached his ear to whisper in a smug tone. "It doesn’t seem enough. Say it louder, love."
You felt the warmth of his hands as he held you still, his heavy breath near your neck. Every time you tried to move or resist, his impulses became more pronounced, leaving you breathless.
"Sorry, Jude," you whimpered, your voice choked at the intensity of the moment. But he chuckled again, as if your pleading were only an incentive to push you further.
"I can’t hear you, love... I want you to say how sorry you are for teasing me tonight." His voice was a mix of authority and fun, and you felt he wouldn’t give up until he got exactly what he wanted from you.
With a combination of frustration and desire, I finally decided to give in. "Sorry, Jude," I said in a louder voice, trying to sound like the "good girl" he wanted. "I’m really sorry that I made you angry."
At those words, his smile widened, revealing a satisfaction that made your heart beat. With a gentle gesture, he took your chin between his hands and turned your head slightly towards him. His eyes fixed on yours, conveying a mixture of authority and affection, as he bent down to kiss you softly. His lips touched yours with a gentle touch, as if he wanted you to feel how much he wanted you, but at the same time he wanted to keep control.
As his urges diminished, your sighs grew deeper, and each touch seemed to wrap you in a mixture of pleasure and release. His hands slipped from your hips, slowly climbing up the back as he kissed you tenderly. "Here, that’s better," I murmured against your lips, the gentler tone but always full of that tension you had learned to know.
"See? It wasn’t that hard, was it?" he continued, stroking your skin with his fingers, giving you a shiver of pleasure. "But now that you’ve apologized, we need to make sure you never forget who’s in control here."
His lips moved back to your neck, while his gaze was fixed on your face, to make sure that every breath you took was a reflection of his dominion and affection.
As Jude kept pushing, his thrusts began to be a little sweeter,but each movement was loaded with intensity. Your groans mixed with deeper sighs as you tried to get closer to him, wanting to hear him even more. But the handcuffs that locked your wrists and his hand that held you still prevented you from moving as you wanted.
"Jude..." you murmured, your voice a mixture of frustration and longing. You felt a conflict between the desire to get close to him and the impossibility of doing so. Every movement of his seemed designed to make you feel every moment of that moment, every push became a way for you to feel the power he had over you.
He smiled, noticing your desire to free you. "Do you want to get closer, huh? But how can I let go when you look so... Funny like this?" he said in a warm, provocative voice. His words were a game, a way to make you feel both vulnerable and wanted.
"You should know that this is exactly where you want to be," he added, continuing to move gently, making sure that every contact was as pleasant as it was frustrating. His gaze was fixed on you, watching your every reaction, every sigh, as if it were the most important thing in the world.
Trying to keep control over yourself, you let yourself go to pleasure, savoring every moment, even if your mind screamed for the desire to feel closer. Jude seemed to understand your torment perfectly and enjoyed prolonging it, making that moment even more intense. "Sorry, love. But tonight you’re mine," she whispered, as the rhythm increased again, every push that seemed to respond to your desire, while her hand kept holding you in place, ensuring that you couldn’t get away.
Frustration and desire mixed in a vortex of emotions inside you. Feeling the need to get closer to Jude, you began praying. "Please, Jude... take off my handcuffs. I just want to feel you closer," you begged, trying to keep your voice still despite the pleasure you felt.
Jude smiled, amused by your request. "Oh, love, you’re so adorable when you beg. But I can’t let you go so easily," he replied, continuing to push with a rhythm that alternated sweetness and intensity. His expression was of pure satisfaction as he enjoyed the power he had over you.
"Think how much better it’ll be when I take off your cuffs. You’ll have to earn it, you know?" he said, almost provocatively. Every word of his seemed a challenge, but the way he moved was a promise of pleasure.
Your desire to get close to him grew second by second. "Please... I just want to hear you. I can’t... I can’t resist," groaning, trying to express how much I needed him.
"You’re so irresistible when you ask," she continued to amuse herself, her voice warm and sensual. "But remember, tonight it’s your turn to show how willing you are to give in."
With every push, his words resonated in your mind. The urge to get rid of the handcuffs increased, but every movement it made you forget for a moment your frustration, wrapping you in a mixture of pleasure and desire. Jude kept looking at you with burning eyes, his smile was a reflection of your vulnerability and submission at the time.
"Don’t worry, honey. There will be time to enjoy freedom," she whispered, as she kept making you feel all her love and possessiveness, holding you exactly where she wanted.
As your body began to respond to Jude’s increasing pace, you felt the pleasure of again accumulating more and more, bringing you closer to that much-desired release. Each push seemed to bring you one step closer to a summit you had longed for, and at that moment, I decided to act as he wanted. You gave up all resistance and let yourself go completely, welcoming the moment and all its sensations.
"Here, that’s good," Jude whispered with a smug smile. "You see it wasn’t so hard? You’re such a good girl when you want to be." His voice was full of approval as he looked at you with a mixture of desire and pride.
In that moment of vulnerability, you felt a deep connection with him. Every whimper and sigh seemed to resound in the air, amplifying the intimate atmosphere charged with electricity. The handcuffs were blocking you, but now it felt almost liberating; you felt safe in his arms, knowing he was in control.
"Yeah, so, love... let go," he continued, his smile widening as he saw you react. Each movement became more sweet, as if he was in perfect harmony with your body. Your surrender to his urges and the pleasure you felt seemed to fuel his own excitement.
The tension in your body grew, and you could not help but let go of the deepest groans and longing sighs. Jude seemed to appreciate every moment, enjoying your response and vulnerability. "Yes, love, I want to hear how good I make you feel," she muttered, continuing to push softly as her gaze fixed on you, completely absorbed in your expression of pleasure.
With every passing moment, you were getting closer and closer to the final release, and you knew that Jude was there for you, ready to take you to that climax you so desperately wanted.
With two more pushes you came and he smiled as he finally took off the handcuffs and you immediately tried to hold him closer to him smiled as he changed your position, By making you spin with your belly all the way up as she tied your legs on her waist and started pushing softly as she began to kiss you and you moaned.
"you’re so beautiful" whispered on his lips while and you moaned as you held him closer to you while you scratched his back and he groans and came inside you.
You groaned as you felt its warm seed inside your walls while Jude leaned his head into the hollow of your neck, sighing as he felt your hands caressing his hair.
#jude bellingham smut#smut imagine#real madrid#p links#jude bellingham#jude bellingham x reader#jude bellingham imagine#jude#hey jude#jude bellingham x you#judes hoe😚
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✰ ✰ ✰
ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Gods & monsters by Lana del rey
↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺
The silence in the house was comfortable, yet filled with small sounds that kept you present. The creak of the floor beneath your bare feet, the soft hum of the ceiling fan, the flick of a lighter breaking the monotony. Billie was sitting on the couch, one leg crossed beneath her body, her posture relaxed but her mind clearly elsewhere.
The air had a hint of tobacco, mixed with the sweet scent of the candles she had lit earlier. In the dim light, her hair seemed darker, the reddish highlights at the tips barely visible. You didn’t look at her directly, but you could feel her presence, magnetic as always.
“Do you think this makes sense?” Her voice broke the silence, soft but carrying something more. She wasn’t looking at you; her eyes were fixed on the ceiling, as if the answer was written there.
“What do you mean?” you asked, putting down the book you’d been pretending to read.
“All of this.” She made a gesture with her hand, encompassing more than just the room, more than the house. “The fame, the expectations, the people who think they know me just because they’ve heard a
You took a second to process her words, but before you could respond, she let out a sarcastic laugh. “It’s like being a god on an altar. Everyone worships you, but no one really sees you. It’s exhausting.”
You stood up from the couch where you’d been sitting and moved closer to her, sitting on the edge of the sofa. “You don’t have to be a god with me,” you said, your fingers brushing lightly over her arm.
Billie lowered her gaze to you, and for a moment, her impenetrable façade seemed to crumble. Her eyes, as intense as always, were filled with something you recognized: fatigue, fear, a desire for something real. “You say that now,” she murmured, bringing the cigarette to her lips, “but in the end, everyone wants something.”
Letting go of my tightly pressed lips, which hurt as I separated them, I took the cigarette from her, which was about to damage her lungs, and extinguished it on the table next to the couch. She didn’t even move a muscle. It’s not that she liked smoking that crap… It was just that she was running out of ideas on how to push away her overwhelming feelings.
“Not me.”
“Not you?” The hint of humor in her response made your heart tremble a little.
You shook your head, and before you could say anything else, she moved her head, and her body followed as she left her pathetic lounging position on the couch, leaning toward you. “Then why are you here?”
It wasn’t an accusatory question. It was pure curiosity, mixed with that insecurity that sometimes slipped into her words. “Because with you, I feel something different,” you said, your voice dropping. “Like, for once, I don’t have to try to be enough. Like I can just be… me.”
Billie let out a sigh, leaning back against the couch as she closed her eyes. Her hands, calloused from years of touring and playing guitar, rested on her knees. You could see the tension in her shoulders, the way she breathed deeply as if trying to release a weight she’d been carrying for far too long.
“It’s weird,” she said after a while, her voice lower, like she was speaking to herself. “I never thought I’d find something like freedom here, with you.”
“Why not?”
She opened her eyes and looked at you again, this time with a small smile that didn’t quite erase the melancholy in her expression. “Because freedom is dangerous. It’s easy to get lost in it.”
As you looked at her, something in her posture seemed almost unreal, as if she wasn’t a real person but a carefully composed image, a character from some movie you didn’t even know you were acting in. The way her hair fell over her shoulders, the curve of her mouth as she exhaled the smoke; everything seemed designed for chaos, to entangle you in the mix of art and life that had always surrounded her.
You knew she wasn’t perfect. You knew the Billie everyone saw wasn’t the Billie who was now in front of you, barefoot and disheveled on the couch, but still, there were moments like this when you wondered if you could ever reach her level. Not in terms of fame or talent, but in that overwhelming presence she seemed to fill every space with.
“When you speak,” you thought, not daring to say it aloud, “it’s like everything around you is a movie, and I’m just trying to learn my lines.”
It wasn’t insecurity, not exactly, but there was something that made you question every little detail about yourself when you were with her. Like if you were a little prettier, a little more interesting, a little more something, you could fit better into the role she seemed to have written for you without realizing it.
“You know?” you began to say, breaking the silence without realizing you’d spoken. She looked at you with that intensity she always had, like her eyes could pierce you.
“What?”
“Sometimes I think that this, you and me… it’s too much to be real.” You lowered your gaze to your own hands, unsure how to finish the sentence. “Like, I don’t know, I’m waiting for something to ruin it.”
She studied you for a few seconds, her expression changing slightly, becoming a bit softer. “Do you think life is that hard?”
You didn’t know what to say.
“Because it’s not.” Billie leaned forward, her eyes locking onto yours. “It’s complicated, sure, but you don’t have to make it harder than it already is.”
“Easy for you to say.” You tried to sound lighthearted, but your voice betrayed something deeper.
“It’s not, really.” She leaned back against the couch, her tone softer, almost whispering. “But if you let things consume you, they’ll devour you. No one will take your soul unless you give it to them.”
Sounds logical, you thought. But it wasn’t that simple, not when you were sitting in front of someone who seemed to have it all while you were struggling with your own fears. “And if I’m not enough…”
“It’s not about that,” she interrupted, with a firmness you didn’t expect but needed. “It’s not about being enough for me or anyone. It’s you. And if you can’t see that, then it doesn’t matter what I see.” She had already stood up abruptly from the heat under the sharp lamp.
・❥・・❥・・❥・
The silence in the room was thick, almost palpable. Billie was sitting at the edge of the bed, her elbows resting on her knees, hands clasped together, staring at an invisible point on the floor. The soft light of the lamp created shadows on her face, accentuating the weight she seemed to carry on her shoulders.
You approached slowly, noticing how her fingers tensed at the sound of your steps. She didn’t look up, but when you sat beside her, her body leaned just slightly toward yours, as if seeking your closeness without daring to ask for it.
Her calloused hands now rested on her thighs, her knuckles white from gripping so tightly. You lifted one hand, touching hers carefully, and the ease with which she exhaled almost broke your heart. She didn’t say anything, but her fingers interlaced with yours, a silent anchor in a sea of chaotic thoughts.
You looked at her, waiting for her to speak, but she only closed her eyes for a moment, her lashes trembling as if she was fighting something she couldn’t put into words. Instead of speaking, her fingers brushed against yours more firmly, a small gesture but full of meaning.
Her other hand found your face, caressing your cheek with a clumsiness you hadn’t expected from someone so sure of herself. When she finally lifted her gaze, her eyes were a scribble of emotions: pain, regret, something that seemed like a plea.
“Don’t let this change you,” she murmured at last, her voice so soft it was barely audible.
Confusion crossed your face, but before you could ask, Billie leaned forward and rested her forehead against yours. The contact was gentle, almost reverent, as if she were afraid that one wrong move would break something.
Her lips moved, but the words got stuck in her throat. Instead, she let her actions speak. The way her hand traveled to the base of your neck, how her fingers traced the line of your collarbone, as if she were trying to memorize every detail.
When she finally spoke again, she didn’t look you in the eyes. “I didn’t want to lose what I was before this.”
A knot formed in your throat as you heard her, because you knew exactly what she meant. She, the woman who seemed to have everything, felt like she had nothing to give you except her flaws, the broken pieces she was trying to put together.
Billie lowered her gaze, as if embarrassed for having said too much. But her hands, which never stopped touching you, told another story. They wanted you to know she was there, that she always would be, even if she couldn’t say it with words. Her fingers grazed your skin with a mix of fear and need.
There was something in the way her eyes kept avoiding yours, as if looking too deeply would make her vulnerable, as if she feared you might see everything she was trying to hide.
Suddenly, she let go of you, but not to pull away. With a slow, deliberate movement, her hand slid to your jaw, tilting your face toward hers. There was no rush, no urgency; just a moment of pure connection, as if everything else had disappeared.
Her lips met yours with a delicacy you didn’t expect. It was a kiss full of meaning, a silent language that said everything she couldn’t express out loud. She held you as if you were something precious and fragile, but at the same time, her kiss was firm, sure, conveying a silent promise that she wouldn’t let you fall.
Her fingers gently buried themselves in your hair as she deepened the kiss, letting out a barely audible sigh against your lips. It was as if she was trying to etch you into her memory, as if she wanted to make sure that this moment, this instant, would be marked forever.
When she finally pulled away, it was slow, as if it hurt to let you go. Her eyes finally met yours, and what you saw there took your breath away: honesty, vulnerability, love.
“I don’t know how to say it,” she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. “But I hope you can feel it.”
And you did. In every touch, every kiss, in the way her hands continued to touch you as if you were her only anchor.
Porque en ese momento no hacían falta palabras. Lo que compartían era algo que trascendía el lenguaje, algo que sólo se entendía a través de cada pequeño gesto y de un beso que, sin necesidad de hablar, lo decía todo.
"Esto es el cielo, lo que realmente quiero" Es la inocencia perdida
okay soo.. that was my first writing everr..the song deserved a damn interpretation
#billie eilish#billie eilish fic#billie eilish x female reader#billie eilish x reader#billie eilish x you#billie eilish x y/n
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☆•° SHADOWMILK FIC BELOW!!! °•☆
k so this is my first time posting my fanfic onto tumblr. farts. lmk if i need to do anything special or not
Content; soul jam freakery, pwp, non-penetrative sex, switch shadow milk, switch pure vanilla, cookiefucking ig, brief mentions of purelily(?), 3k+ words :3
Pure Vanilla stood in a glade of flowers. As far as the eye could see, there were hills lined with hundreds and thousands of flowers. A shy moon peered over a hilltop, stars winking playfully across a picturesque, midnight-blue sky. For a moment, he just observed them.
On one hill surface, it was all coated in brilliant yellow and white petals. Yellow carnations, baby’s breath, chamomile, daisies, honeysuckle, white hyacinth, white roses. A beautiful cloud, light shining through each split where the sun kissed the feathery vapor.
Another swath of blue flowers lined another hill. Hydrangeas, irises, delphiniums, hyacinth, and morning glories. As Pure Vanilla heaved a relaxed sigh, inhaling the sweet scent of the floral arrangements around him, he noticed but a single flower at his feet.
A forget-me-not.
The rest of the flowers in the field burnt up, despite there being no fire present. They simply crumbled on their own, squeezing into themselves and turning into blackened char. The sweet smell of pollen and nectar and the midnight stars was replaced by the acrid stench of strawberry jam and burnt leaves. Ah. This must be a dream.
"Y'know, my silly little Vanilly, this has been in your cards for a loooong time coming," came a playful voice, an idle teasing to it, as if it were a conversation between old friends. Pure Vanilla didn’t bother to turn around towards it. In a way, it was really a reunion of sorts. “Have you missed me?”
Pure Vanilla stayed staring, fixedly, almost mechanically, at the single, twinkling flower before him. He wouldn’t give Shadow Milk the satisfaction of seeing him look startled, or even seeing his face at all. “Not in the slightest,” he replied with a sigh, the forget-me-not dancing in the painfully burnt nighttime air.
Hands wrapped around his eyes.
He resisted the urge to immediately elbow the foe behind him, or thrash out of the (admittedly gentle— why was it so gentle?) grasp of Shadow Milk, but he steadied his will, staying perfectly still. A warmth, a slow embrace, spread across his back as Shadow Milk pulled himself flush with the back of Pure Vanilla’s robes.
“Vannilly…” Shadow Milk cooed in a drawn-out tone. “If you want to look at anything ever again, look at me. You know that I can hear what you’re thinking. You can’t ignore me forever!”
Pure Vanilla sucked in a breath. He knew reading cookie’s minds wasn’t impossible— he himself could do it if he tried. Yet, he wasn’t sure if Shadow Milk truly knew how, if he was bluffing, or if you even could read one’s mind inside of a dream.
He wasn’t sure he wanted to risk it.
“That power is not yours, beast.” Pure Vanilla didn’t utter another word, keeping his lips drawn tightly together. Shadow Milk simply wouldn’t earn it from him, no matter how much he toyed with him.
When the ravaged flower field disintegrated around him, and reformed into a chapel, and Shadow Milk vanished from his back to reform in front of him, Pure Vanilla felt almost let-down, as ridiculous of a notion that it was, that Shadow Milk hadn’t tried harder to make him speak. Two rows of pews lined the rectangular room, highlighted by the beautiful moonlight coalescing through the windows. It streamed through blue, stained-glass windows— no doubt, they bore imagery of the wielder of the Light of Deceit.
Pure Vanilla felt a tightness about his limbs, and suddenly he noticed tendrils creeping around the floor, darkness forming and deforming vague shapes of tentacles as they wove between the pews. As he glanced towards the throne, between his bangs, there was a beast hovering above him, a sadistic grin twisting his cutesy, mis-matched features into a mockery of a cookie's face. Shadow Milk cookie, a tyrannical creature born of lies and falsehoods. There were many ways to end a dream, so Pure Vanilla quickly shuffled through his options, mentally. He didn’t want to even give this creature a chance to speak more. There was a war to fight, and it needn’t be distracted with silly things like dreams.
"Now, quit it with that look. We all know you can't do anything to escape from this dream, now! Stupid 'Nilla!" Shadow Milk cackled, as if he really could hear Pure Vanilla’s thoughts, and sure enough, more mysterious darkness rose from the floor, binding Pure Vanilla by the ankles. They slithered up Pure Vanilla’s slender legs, tracing his figure, wriggling across each inch of his dough. "Hey, didn’t you say you were going to protect everyone? That you didn’t have things like nightmares? You're the worst liar of us all. Which is why I'm going to take my Soul Jam back from you, Vanilly.”
Pure Vanilla glowered at this foe. He may have a point-- Pure Vanilla was not always the most truthful, as much as his jam implied it. Yet, every time he lied, it was in the name of justice. In the name of keeping the peace, and ruling over what he needed to protect. So, that was different. It certainly wasn't the shameful secret that Shadow Milk was making it out to be. If it was leveraged against him, though... he wasn't sure what he'd do. He just had to escape the dream before it got to that point.
Then, of course, in his moment of distraction, Shadow Milk took it as an excuse to approach Vanilla, looking down on him as the tendrils suddenly squeezed around his dough, crumbling the surface ever-so-imperceptibly. It burned. There was truly nowhere he could go, as far as his eyes could see, no way to fight against this darkness— he was caged in like a feral animal, and felt merely inches away from being provoked to fight like one.
Shadow Milk stepped towards the altar, finally lowering himself to standing height instead of floating. The porcelain tiles hissed as his feet touched them. With a gentle motion, he ascended the half-stairs, and settled atop the marble altartop. With one hand, he beckoned to Pure Vanilla, and he was dragged forward and onto his knees by the shadows binding his legs. Shadow Milk gazed down at him, cooing softly as one might to a stray animal. Pure Vanilla resisted the urge to growl at him in response.
"Don't worry, silly. This won't hurt a bit, okay? I'm gonna warm your jam up... bet no one's ever done that before, hmm, tightwad? Ahaha!" Shadow Milk cackled, and slowly rolled his sleeve a bit further back up his arm. His forearm was littered in hundreds of tiny scars that Pure Vanilla elected to ignore. This psychopath's sob story was worthless to him; he had probably just gotten into fights, or ran through brambles in boredom.
It was just as meaningless as the rest of his deceitful actions.
The shadows yanked Pure Vanilla upwards, suspending him off the floor by their grasp on him, and giving his knees an air-borne surface to rest upon. Being pulled forward so that his chest was level with Shadow Milk’s knees, he glanced up at the beast who held him in place. “Oh, my. Now that’s a sexy face on you, Vanilly. You look so angry…! What, going to crumble me with your teeth?” Shadow Milk offered with a smirk that only surfaced more and more suggestions in Pure Vanilla’s mind.
Shadow Milk’s hand found the side of his face, and it cupped his cheek. Without missing a beat, and keeping eye-contact with Shadow Milk, Pure Vanilla parted his lips and put his mouth around Shadow Milk’s hand, as if to bite it open. If this went as planned, Shadow Milk would surely become distracted and lose his grip on Pure Vanilla’s dream. What he didn’t expect, somehow, was the look of sheer masochistic elation that crossed Shadow Milk’s features, like a cloud crossing over the path of the sun and darkening a summer day.
“Does that feel good?” Vanilla asked in utter disbelief, whispering the words across Shadow Milk’s dough, far more sensually than intended, as he fixed him with a stare. “Ah, you’ve always been strange…” he continued, “but truly, I could never have expected to what degree.” He just had to keep throwing Shadow Milk off of his game. Then, he’d be able to slip away.
Then, unexpectedly Shadow Milk brought his other hand (not the one cupping his cheek) up to Pure Vanilla’s upper chest, and began to toy with his Soul Jam, grazing his finger crossed it’s blue surface. It was an overwhelming sensation, causing him to cry out— ah, why was that so sensitive? Vanilla knew they were connected to their senses, as his own had flickered when he was in pain, but he didn't expect it to literally feel like his soul was being stroked along the edge by Shadow Milk, a wanton noise peeling itself from his lips. It was a tightness and blossoming in his chest, all while Shadow Milk's multi-colored eyes, on his face and on his body, seemed to be watching the faces he was making with curiosity raptly.
Pure Vanilla did try to reign in his expression, concealing his faint noises of surprise by biting his lower lip. It was made vastly more difficult by the fact that his legs were restrained and he couldn't simply run from this.
Normally, the moment before the villain could enact their awful plan, a hero would come bursting into the room, and save the hostage just as it started to look hopeless. Well, it seemed futile to resist, to Pure Vanilla, and there was yet to be another cookie within sight. No, it was all those piercing, mis-matched eyes.
Mis-matched eyes that were gobbling up eyefuls of Pure Vanilla's pathetic condition greedily, lustfully. "I just love how this looks on you," Shadow Milk whispered, sultry, to the distressed monarch before him. It was a new thrill to have this brilliant leader finally subjugated before him, finally brought (literally) to his knees by Shadow Milk's plans. It's not as if he couldn't have potentially seen it coming, but there were so many possibilities for losing or capturing Pure Vanilla every day that Shadow Milk cookie had simply taken to ignoring them.
He stroked along the edge of the Soul Jam with one pallid blue hand, the other halfway covering the flustered face of Pure Vanilla.
"Shall I keep going?" Shadow Milk offered with nothing short of a insane grin, just feeling the waves of pleasure rolling off of his body from just the blonde’s expressions. Yet, that grin was just the sort of thing that would perfectly throw Pure Vanilla off his game. "Seems like you're plenty ready for the warm-up, needy-Nilly.”
"Don't do this," Pure Vanilla said, eyes furrowing— though, it just looked like he was relaxing into the pleasure even more, "I'm not going to do whatever you want." Oh? Shadow Milk smelled a Class A lie around those words, like curdled milk atop an otherwise perfect latte. All it took was a little teasing to bring out the deceitful side of the blonde, and Shadow Milk had yet to tell even a single lie. Frankly, he knew which one of them deserved the Soul Jam more, based on that.
Teasingly slow, Shadow Milk reached a blue hand deep into the jam on Pure Vanilla’s chest, sinking into its substance like a cushion; the tone of his dough and the surface of the soul were the same color, as if they were always meant to be put together this way. He slowly pushed in, first inching in his fingers, then his palms, and then the beginnings of his wrist. It pulsated around him— it wasn't meant to be touched like this, but nevertheless, it burned in a way that was both painful and pleasing. It seemed almost to him as if he had stuck his arm into a pocket dimension somehow contained within Pure Vanilla's body. He would’ve been curious as to how it felt, if he hadn't tried such a thing with his half of the jam. And by his own experiences, he knew exactly how overwhelming it was.
“How’s that…? You know, this is why you’re mine. Without me, you wouldn’t be able to feel this way. Without my Soul Jam on your body, you’d never have known this pleasure,” he cooed, leaning down to speak into Pure Vanilla’s ear as he slowly began to swirl his hand and the tips of his fingers around inside of Pure Vanilla.
Pure Vanilla suppressed a strangled moan at the intrusive feeling, immediately attempting to further cover his mouth with one of his own hands. Not that it lasted long, with one of Shadow Milk's tendrils quickly ripping it away, but an effort had been made to at least save himself part of the humiliation. "Please..." Pure Vanilla whispered, not being quite sure what he was begging for, other than that Shadow Milk was sure not to provide it, if he asked.
Shadow Milk made a satisfied grin and hum as Pure Vanilla's mouth was re-uncovered, wriggling his fingers inside the goopy substance of the jam until Pure Vanilla couldn't help but moan out again. It felt like someone had reached directly into his chest and was playing harp with his bare nerves; too overwhelming to form words, but still amazing.
"Oh, wow!" Shadow Milk giggled, tensing his fingers to squeeze the surface of the Soul Jam's glistening tension. "I can feel it, pulsing. It wants us to do this, doesn't it? Just think of how powerful we'll be together, Nilly..."
Pure Vanilla full-body shuddered at the nickname, feeling a familiar, aroused tingle in his back from the jester's rough voice; somehow, that managed to be almost more intimate than Shadow Milk's fingers inside of his soul. "It's too— too much," he finally managed, squirming away from Shadow Milk.
That's when it happened: Shadow Milk curled his hands through the jam, grabbing it like a handle from the inside, and yanking Pure Vanilla forward by it. The utterly debauched sound that fell from Pure Vanilla's mouth was both a shriek of pain and a guttural cry of pleasure: he wasn't sure which part was more earnest. "No running away, now! We've only just started, Vailly!"
With that, he pulled Pure Vanilla up against him into his lap, still holding him by the inside of his jam. This time, Pure Vanilla managed to keep it at a controlled yelp, but it did nothing to diminish the lustful burning he felt in every inch of his dough. He saw his Soul Jam faintly flicker with burnt out light— he was suffering, and he couldn't help but feel as though his perverse pleasure derived from it was a betrayal of everything his Light stood for, everything that he and the others like White Lily had fought for.
Just as he made the thought, Shadow Milk tsked aloud. “Don’t think of her. I can see it on your pathetic face— she doesn’t own you, I do. She wouldn’t make you feel like this, right…?” he asked, relaxing his grip on Pure Vanilla’s jam and returning to stroking it gently from the inside. It felt like stepping into a hot room on a cold, winter’s afternoon— it tingled all over Vanilla’s body, causing him to emit a soft squeak as the feeling bubbled up into every square inch of his vanilla dough.
"Now that you're up here..." Shadow murmured into Pure Vanilla's ear, pulling him closer to his chest. Vanilla couldn’t help but smell the faint aroma of blueberries on his skin. He managed to grasp onto Shadow Milk’s shoulder, bracing himself through his panic at being pulled, and steadying his pleasure. "Let's try something, okay? This'll feel even better than just my hands," Shadow Milk promised, and then their Soul Jams gently touched together as he pulled Pure Vanilla up closer into him, engaging him in a sloppy kiss.
Pure Vanilla could suddenly feel everything in Shadow Milk’s body and nothing in his own all at once. He was somehow two sets of lips, locked in an embrace that smeared frosting lewdly across faces, he was the future, he was the past, he was Blueberry Milk and he was being torn apart in luxurious torment and lust.
After either all of time, or just a second, Shadow Milk shoved him away with a sudden gasp, multichrome eyes going wide. His face was brushed in a dark blue flush, giving him a healthy looking bake, for once. He panted, licking his blue lips, causing Pure Vanilla's smudged off-white frosting to smear slightly across them both. "Woah there, Vanilla! Getting ahead of yourself!" Shadow Milk chuckled, his eyes slightly too wide for it to really come across as a properly controlling order. Had he really not predicted what this would do? Had Shadow Milk truly been unable to predict how this would feel?
That, or he was simply more sensitive than Pure Vanilla. When was the last time Shadow Milk had touched another cookie, dough-to-dough, after all?
Shadow Milk was overwhelmed. When he had touched his own half of the Jam, it hadn’t felt even half that intense. No, that was a splash of cold water, and this was a dunk in the ocean. Oh, God, he felt so one with Pure Vanilla. What had he been thinking? He needed… Vanilla to become him, not the other way around…!
Pure Vanilla's grasp on Shadow’s shoulders tightened, sensing his weakness like blood in the water. "Isn't this what you wanted? Isn't this what you forced me to do?" Pure Vanilla spoke forcefully, his voice carrying more venom than he ever let it have. Vanilla was purity, he was a figure of angelicness, forgiveness. Yet, now that he had felt what it was like to be him, he had a taste of being like Shadow Milk, feeling how Shadow Milk felt; a lingering flavor of blueberry and strawberry jam on his tongue.
He found he liked it.
He found it was the bit of Deceit inside of him, that sort of sadistic joy he found at Shadow Milk's startled expression, the nervous twitch to his pupils as they raked over Pure Vanilla's body. Glancing down to where Shadow Milk's eyes were fixed, he saw that his Soul Jam was... slightly melted, in appearance. Bits of it dripped loosely in comparison to its typically crystalline appearance, and Shadow Milk eyed it with trepidation, yet enthusiasm.
"Again," Pure Vanilla found his voice demanding, despite originally being the one who disagreed with this whole arrangement. Surely, it was the pieces of Shadow Milk's Soul Jam that were simply combining with his own. They were extended body parts, nervous systems— as if a second brain purely to use magic existed in the beasts and the ancient heroes.
After all, this was just a dream. Pure Vanilla could do whatever he wanted with this blue freak; he had given up on escaping. He’d have fun until Shadow Milk had enough and ended the dream. It was his domain, after all— it’s not like Vanilla could do anything that Shadow Milk couldn’t escape from at his very own will. Besides, when was the last time that Pure Vanilla was allowed to have fun?
With a sudden lean forward, Pure Vanilla caught the dough of Shadow Milk's neck in his mouth, dragging their Soul Jams into another gooey connection. Devouring him, tasting the faint flavor of blueberries and darkness and sweet, fresh milk, on his dough. It made a frankly lewd sound, and Pure Vanilla could feel himself losing his purity yet again, slipping into the body and mind of the insane man before him as if it were his fine Sunday clothes. A gratuitous moan rippled from Shadow Milk's lips. "Oh, Vanilla..." he managed, trying again to pull back from their embrace.
No, that wouldn't do. Pure Vanilla ran his hand up the back of Shadow Milk's head, feeling emboldened by the Light of Deceit that was flowing through him, the contradicting nature of the powers within him. He grabbed a fistful of Shadow Milk's hair, and gave it a harsh tug as he bit down more harshly on his neck. The resulting sound was something Pure Vanilla wished he could hear for the rest of his life. A debauched shriek, rough in the quality of the jester's voice, of his own name. "N-Nilla...!"
Pure Vanilla paused for just a moment, teeth in Shadow’s dough, paralyzed by the intoxication of lust. With that, he was giving Shadow Milk another chance to struggle against him, but it was futile in earnest. Shadow was only doing it for the fun of it: both of them knew he could run whenever he wanted. Two-toned eyes gazed up at Vanilla in all of their sex and pain-tinged glory. "No running away. We're just getting started." Shadow Milk’s expression grew even more lustfully destroyed with the idea of Vanilla echoing his words, his earnest expression, with just the faintest hint of a smile on his blue-smudged lips.
☆°•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~●°☆
OKAY BYE THATS ALL THANK YOU
Gasoline Cookie OUT !! (feel free to send me requests in asks!)
#shadow milk cookie#shadow milk crk#shadow milk x pure vanilla#switch shadow milk#switch shadow milk cookie#pwp#pwp fics#3k words#3k#fanfic#fanfics#fanfiction#tumblr fic#tumblr fanfic#full fic#oneshot#drabble#pure vanilla cookie#pure vanilla crk#pure vanilla x shadow milk#pure vanilla#pureshadow#truthless recluse#vanilla milkshake#vanillamilk#shadowvanilla#smilk#pvanilla
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You're Lucky I'm into Older Men (1600 Follower Raffle)
Our second prize winner was @imcobaltastronomer! They asked for from fluff with Time and such. Enjoy.
Masterlist
Content under the cut!
You had never thought you would have found yourself in this situation.
You found yourself with a group of rowdy but well meaning boys who were more or less destined to save the world. And you found yourself loving each and every one of them no matter how much their stubbornness tried to drive you up a wall.
The eldest of them though had really caught your attention. He was more reserved than the boys of course, but you had found yourself at peace in his company. He was a good listener and remembered the little things you rambled on about even when you thought no one was paying attention to you.
He took care of you in ways that you hadn’t anticipated.
They called him The Old Man but the Hero of Time was another name that got tossed around every now and then. His given name though was Link. You strived to call him by his name at every given opportunity you could.
Soon you saw him softening to you and you felt yourself slowly being drawn to him in turn.
There’s a steadiness to him that you didn’t think you would have found among anyone else. He could keep his head on his shoulders. You appreciate a man like that.
Not to mention that he was also drop dead gorgeous. The man had a jawline that could glass and the bluest eyes you had ever seen.
The fact that he was even older than most of them seemed to guess was not at all a deal breaker for you. If anything it only made him more attractive.
You sighed and tilted your head into the palms of your hands. The fire was gently crackling away as you took your watch for the night. The boys slept quietly around you as you entertained your thoughts. Time slept not too far away from you. The light from the campfire danced over his features in an agitated pattern- highlighting his scar and permanent war paint.
You sighed again and let your eyes close for a moment. This wasn’t so bad. This moment of stillness in the quiet of night.
Suddenly, someone jolts up. You know it from the immediate rustling of blankets and rough footwork on the dirt beneath you.
Your eyes snap open and stand without question.
Time is awake and looking at you with wide eyes. He looks shocked, stunned even.
You put your hands up. You’ve never seen his other eyes open. You get the faintest impression of something other looking at you through those eyes.
“Link?” You whisper for the sake of the boys around you. “Is everything alright?”
He takes a moment to breathe and shakes his head. The other eye closes once more. “Yes.” He says. His voice is gruff and low. It sends a tingly feeling all the way down your back and down to your toes. “I had a nightmare. I’m alright.”
Your heart is squeezed painfully. You sit back down and pat the spot next to you. “Do you want to talk about it?”
He hesitates a second too long and you’re ready to drop it entirely to go for a different tactic when he sits down next to you. “I thought I lost you.”
You suck in a breath.
Time runs a hand through his hair and you’re inclined to follow the movement. Briefly, your mind begins to imagine what it would feel like if you did the exact same thing but his exhausted expression as he looks down to the log stills your otherwise impulsive thought. “I’m sorry.”
“What for?” You whisper, leaning closer to him. “You did nothing wrong. It was just a bad dream. I’m right here.”
You take his hand and hold it to your chest, over your heart. You don’t know what he saw in his own head, but you know that you have never seen him so panicked upon waking up. And the fact that he admitted it, was a great deal of trust on his part. You weren’t about to throw it back in his face by not attending to this.
“I know.” He takes another deep breath. You think you see his shoulders shake slightly from the strength of it. “I know… I just… I couldn’t do anything. I’m sorry. I tried-”
“Shh…” You scoot closer to him. “I’m sure you would have done everything within your power to save me from whatever it was. I trust you with my life, Link. There’s no one else I would hold out hope for. You’re special to me. I forgive you for your dream.”
A small subtle smile cracks on his face. “You forgive me for my dream?”
“I forgive you for your dream.” You repeat yourself. “It’s over now. We’re ok and safe.”
Time hums and removes his hand from your chest, reaching over instead to take your hand. “You sure have a strange way of viewing things, my dear.”
Your heart flutters. The pet name is new. But he says it so easily. You wonder if he’s practicing or if he’s been saying it in his head all this time. You gulp. “I suppose that’s one way to say it.”
The Hero of Time doesn’t respond. You both sit in silence for a moment, letting only the night’s natural symphony and the fire fill in the lull that transcended over the passing time. A deep breath. A small sigh. He squeezes your hand. “...You’re special to me too. It would be foolish of me to not acknowledge or recognize it at this point. The very thought of you leaving me has shaken me.”
“Link…” You breathe and find yourself leaning closer. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
He leans in, a rare smirk on his face. He looks so boyish and young at that moment. “And what is it that you think I’m saying?”
You tense up, hoping that he thinks the heat on face is caused by the fire next to you. You stare in silence and his smirk grows. Not wanting to be bested this easily and willing to blame it on your exhaustion from the night’s watch should it go awry, you lean in and kiss his nose.
You both pull back in shock at the moment. You wait impatiently for his response.
Time goes completely still for a beat before you see his eyes dip down to your lips. “...You kissed me.”
“I did.” You gulp quietly.
He smiles a little stiltedly. It’s tense and awkward as if he’s shutting himself off from you before anything else can escalate. “...I’m not as young as you think I am, Darling. You should know that I’m not exactly a young man any more and I will never be again.”
“I can live with that.” You say without missing a beat. “I’ve always liked older guys anyway.”
He chokes on his own spit.
You startle and are quick to invade his personal space again, patting his back to settle him down before he wakes up any other of the remaining boys. You are not willing to explain what caused Time to fall into such a state. You would rather eat your own foot.
Suddenly he starts laughing. It’s hearty but dampened. No doubt for the sake of the very same boys he nearly woke up all at once. Time rubs his face and roughly ruffles his hair. “I… was not expecting that.”
Somehow, despite your nervousness at confessing your intentions without words, you can feel yourself gain confidence and reach up to settle his hair back properly into place. “We both know you’re the type of guy that needs to be kept on his toes.”
He looks at you with a soft look. Your breath was nearly torn from your chest at the sight of it. Time brings a hand up to your cheek and cradles you gently. Without warning he leans in, guiding you into position and kisses your cheek. “Very well, Darling. You should know I don’t always play nice. I’m more than willing to tease in return.”
“Say what you want, you love it.” You grin, feeling buoyant and happy. You can feel yourself grinning from ear to ear, positively beaming from his little act of affection. Still, you can hear a little bell ringing at the back of your head that he was still having a rough night. You clear your throat and lower your voice again, trying to be mindful of your volume once more. “Feel better?”
He takes another deep breath before leaning in and picking you up, dropping you directly onto his lap. His arms cage you against his chest and he rests his head on your shoulder. You think you feel him teasing the sliver of skin by your neck with butterfly kisses but you’re too flustered to pay attention to much else after his bold move.
“I am now. How about you?”
“Oh, you are so lucky I like you.”
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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?
#uswnt x reader#uswnt imagines#uswnt imagine#taylor swift imagine#woso x reader#taylor swift x reader
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“He kept on the proper face all the way to his rooms, and was proud of himself for it. Then he stepped inside and found an empty nothingness. His were the quarters of a highlord, supposedly luxurious and spacious. He had little furniture though, and that left it feeling hollow. Dark, the sole light coming from the balcony. Every honor he’d been given seemed to highlight how vacant his life really was. Titles couldn’t fill a room with life.
Still, he turned and closed the door with a firm push. Only then did he break. He didn’t make it to the chair. He sank down with his back to the wall beside the door. He tried to unbutton his coat, but ended up bending forward with his knuckles pressing his forehead, digging into his skin as he hyperventilated, gasping in deep breaths of air while he trembled and shook.
Exhaustionspren like jets of dust gleefully congregated around him. And agonyspren, like upside-down faces carved from stone, twisted and faded in and out. He couldn’t cry. Nothing came out. He wanted to cry, because at least that would be a release. Instead he huddled, knuckles pressing against the scars in his forehead, wishing he could shrivel away. Like the eyes of a person struck by a Shardblade.
In moments like this—alone and huddled on the floor of a dark room, tormented by agonyspren—Moash’s words found him. The truth of them became undeniable. Out in the garish sunlight, it was easy to pretend that everything was all right. In here, Kaladin could see clearly.
You’re just going to keep hurting.…
His entire life had been a futile effort to stop a storm by yelling at it. The storm didn’t care.
They’re all going to die. There’s nothing you can do about it.
You could never build anything that lasted, so why try? Everything decayed and fell apart. Nothing was permanent. Not even love.
Only one way out …
A knock came at his door. Kaladin ignored the sound until it became insistent. Storms. They were going to barge in, weren’t they? Suddenly panicked that anyone should find him like this, Kaladin stood up and straightened his coat. He took a deep breath, and the agonyspren faded.
Adolin pushed his way in, a treasonous Syl on his shoulder. That was where she had gone? To fetch Adolin storming Kholin?
The young man wore a uniform of Kholin blue, but not a regulation one. He’d taken to having embellishments added, regardless of what his father thought. While it was sturdy—a little stiff, starched to maintain neat lines—its sleeves were embroidered to match his boots. The cut left the coat longer than most—a bit like Kaladin’s own captain’s coat, but more trendy.
Somehow Adolin wore the uniform, when the uniform had always worn Kaladin. To Kaladin, the uniform was a tool. To Adolin it was a part of an ensemble. How did he get his hair—blond, peppered black—so perfectly messy? It was both casual and deliberate at the same time.
He was smiling, of course. Storming man.
“You are here!” Adolin said. “Rock said he thought you were heading for your room.”
“Because I wanted to be alone,” Kaladin said.
“You spend too many evenings alone, bridgeboy,” Adolin said, glancing at the nearby exhaustionspren, then grabbing Kaladin by the arm—something few other people would have dared.
“I like being by myself,” Kaladin said.
“Great. Sounds awful. Today, you’re coming with me. No more excuses. I let you blow me away last week and the week before.”
“Maybe,” Kaladin snapped, “I just don’t want to be around you, Adolin.”
The highprince hesitated, then leaned forward, narrowing his eyes and putting his face up close to Kaladin’s. Syl still sat on Adolin’s shoulder, her arms folded—without even the decency to look ashamed when Kaladin glared at her.
“Tell me honestly,” Adolin said. “With an oath, Kaladin. Tell me that you should be left alone tonight. Swear it to me.”
Adolin held his gaze. Kaladin tried to form the words, and felt of the ten fools when he couldn’t get them out.
He definitely shouldn’t be alone right now.
“Storm you,” Kaladin said.
“Ha,” Adolin said, tugging him by the arm. “Come on, Brightlord Master Highmarshal Stormface. Change your coat to one that doesn’t smell like smoke, then come with me. You don’t have to smile. You don’t have to talk. But if you’re going to be miserable, you might as well do it with friends.”
Kaladin extracted his arm from Adolin’s grip, but didn’t resist further. He grabbed new clothes—tossing aside the ones he’d been fighting in.
He did, however, shoot Syl another glare as she flew over to him. “Adolin?” Kaladin said as he changed. “Your first thought was to get Adolin?”
“I needed someone you couldn’t intimidate,” she replied. “That list at best includes three people. And the queen was likely to transform you into a crystal goblet or something.”
Kaladin sighed and walked out to join Adolin, lest the highprince think he was dallying. Syl eyed Kaladin as she walked in the air alongside him, keeping up with him despite her dainty steps.
“Thank you,” Kaladin said softly, turning his eyes forward.”
- Rhythm of War
#the stormlight archive#rhythm of war#cosmere#cfsbf#root#correct cosmere quotes#kaladin stormblessed#syl#adolin kholin#sylphrena#brandon sanderson
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Not Exactly Cinderella Part 1
WC: 1350
CW: mildy raunchy talk
Dick/Danny/Wally
Wally still didn’t really get why Dick hated galas so much. The outfits were a little stuffy, but Dick always looked amazing in them and these days he found ways to have fun with the looks. The people could be stuck up, sure, but there were always lots of Waynes and other supes to talk to. And the galas could drag on a little, but Dick was amazing at finding dark corners to duck into and make out in.
The worst part, really, was the photos going in. That was mostly because Wally felt so utterly inadequate standing next to Dick, but he doubted Dick had any issue with that part. Still, every time that Dick begged Wally to come along with him to one, he acted as if he was going to his execution. For a guy who fought crime and had literately been at his own attempted executions before, it felt a little extreme.
“You know, we could still have the driver turn around,” Dick suggested hopefully.
“Put those baby blues away because we really, really cannot,” Wally said, but he softened his words by reaching out to twist their fingers together. “You have to be at this one, babe. Part of what they’re trying to raise funds for is your idea.”
Dick groaned and let his head fall back against the the black leather seat. It made Wally want to lean over and kiss along that length of neck as beautifully highlighted by the passing neon lights as it was, but he managed to resist. Dick really shouldn’t be marked up before photos.
(Which was a shame.)
“Hey, I’m with you at least?” Wally offered. He knew it was paltry compensation, but it was at least something.
“You are. Thanks for coming,” Dick said. He lifted their hands to press a kiss to the back of Wally’s hand. “I know—”
“Hey, I’ve said it lots before. I don’t mind coming to the galas with you at all. Where else am I going to get to eat so many tiny foods?”
“Tiny food is overrated.”
“It’s the best.”
“Speedsters,” Dick said, rolling his eyes.
Wally elbowed Dick for saying ‘speedsters’, even if the driver wasn’t supposed to be able to hear them right then. Dick, of course, was completely unrepentant and just stole a quick kiss instead as the car rolled to a stop.
Dick took a deep breath. “Okay, time to look pretty, Wally.”
Wally’s ‘easy for you to say’ was lost to the sounds of flashing cameras and shouted questions as the door opened and Dick stepped out. Wally tamped down the urge to fidget and took Dick’s hand, joining him in the lights and noise.
-
For the most part, Wally was glad that he wasn’t expected to contribute to the conversations as they made their rounds at the gala. He got the basic ‘how are you’ or ‘so what is it you do’, but really no one wanted to know, not unless he ran into other scientists. Wally knew he could be a bit… much to talk to, so he let Dick lead for all the important conversation. Wally figured he could slip off to talk to the other nerds later, if they were around, but he’d stick by Dick for the first part at least. This obligation would probably wind down soon, even those coming in fashionably late had arrived by now.
Wally scanned the crowd as they headed up to the second floor to make sure they had caught everyone they needed to. Ah, there were some people he recognized from WE Research, as well as some new faces. They looked like they were having a good time. The group laughed and one of the people Wally didn’t know, turned with the act and looked over the crowd too. For just a moment his eyes and Wally’s caught.
His smile was brilliant.
Suddenly Wally found himself tipping forward, toe caught on the step. Only Dick’s quick reaction time saved Wally’s face from meeting the marble.
“Shit, Wally, you okay?” Dick asked, clutching Wally tightly to him.
Wally buried his blushing red face into Dick’s shoulder. “I’m fine.”
“Okay,” Dick said, drawing the word out. He guided Wally upstairs and into one of those dark corners, not taking his bracing hand off Wally’s back. Voice quiet, he asked, “Is it something from the… work issue earlier today?”
“No,” Wally said, but his word was muffled by the his hands pressed over his warm face. “I didn’t get hurt.”
“Okay,” Dick said again.
“Stop saying okay. It’s nothing. I’m just being… ugh.”
“Walls, sweetheart,” Dick pried Wally’s hands away from his face, holding them gently, “you’re worrying me a little here.”
Wally sighed. “I tripped because a cute guy smiled in my direction, alright?”
“What?” Dick asked. He covered his laughter with their clasped hands.
“I tripped because I’m an idiot and got flustered when a cute guy smiled my way.”
Dick pouted, still snickering. “You’ve never tripped up because of my smile.”
Wally just stared at Dick.
“What?”
He couldn’t believe it. “Do you really not know how many walls I ran into because of your smile, Dick?”
“No.” Dick was grinning now, bright and wonderful. “Give me a number here. Ten? Twenty?”
“So many, Dick, so many. So no getting jealous, you’re still way in the lead.”
Dick sobered instantly. He reached out and caught Wally’s wrist again, running his fingers along that too fast Speedster’s pulse. “Hey, no, you think I’m being jealous?”
Wally just shrugged. He did and he didn’t. He really didn’t know what to think. He didn’t think Dick was the jealous type, but it hadn’t exactly been put to the test. When this thing between them had turned from fooling around into something more they had agreed on an open relationship and worked out the details. And Wally would talk about someone being hot, sure, but they were always someone unobtainable. It’s Dick who had actually gone out and dated, or at least slept with, other people.
“Oh sweetheart, no,” Dick murmured, closing the distance between them to nothing. “I was just teasing. I think it’s adorable that his smile made you stumble— and at a ball too! That’s some real fairy tale stuff right there.”
“Okay, but fairy tales usually ended pretty horrifically,” Wally pointed out, though he could feel his own smile tugging at his lips.
Dick rolled his eyes. “Alright, a Disney style fairy tale then.”
Wally’s nose wrinkled. “Too wholesome.”
“Picky, picky, picky. An adult film knock off of a Disney story?”
“Dick!” Wally laughed and gave the other a little shove. The bastard didn’t even budge.
“Sorry,” Dick said without sounding sorry at all. “Come on, let’s go talk to him.”
“What?!” Wally squawked. “No! Dick, no, why?”
“Because you thought he was cute. It can’t hurt.”
“Yes it can! He’ll talk to me and…”
“Walls?”
Wally looked down at their feet, scuffing his banged up toe around. “He’ll, I don’t know, get bored of me? Or at least it won’t go anywhere.”
Dick ducked down so he could see Wally’s eyes. “Hey, no, sweetheart, why do you think that? You’re a catch.”
“I’m pretty sure only you think that,” Wally said.
“Lies,” Dick said, giving Wally a peck. “I’ll prove it. Come on, let me be your ‘wing man.”
Wally snorted at that.
“You know I’m a great ‘wing.”
“You are,” Wally said, unable to help the fond smile.
“Then come on. I know all your virtues, including how good you are at blow jobs. Let me extol them.”
“Dick! You are not telling a stranger I’m good at blow jobs!” Wally hissed.
“But you are.”
“Yeah, I am, aren’t I?”
Dick backed up, tugging Wally out of the nook. “We’ll do a quick pass up here and then go find him. See if we can’t get you lucky.”
“I was supposed to get lucky with you tonight,” Wally reminded him.
Dick just shrugged, still smiling. “I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. I’ll still be around after you have some fun.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
--
AN: So I didn't really have anything else that fit Tooth-Rotting Tuesday in my current wips (not where they were at least) and somehow this got in my brain soooo.... hopefully you enjoyed it?
I love how gung-ho Dick is about getting his boyfriend laid. His plan is to get them started flirting and then just slip away. But will he be able to pull that off?
Sorry for any mistakes. A pressure migraine on top of my other migraine rolled in with the front yesterday so I am KOed.
Stay delightful darlings!
#dp x dc#danny fenton/dick grayson/wally west#rocket fuel#we're going with that ship name here personally lol#cause somehow I'm writing more of these three#tooth rotting thursay#not exactly cinderella
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