#but that's what you get for having parents that love to move countries every two goddamn years like besties.

[yourmidnightlover]

forever?

pairing: mob!bucky x reader

summary: after being forced into a marriage you didn’t want, you become very cautious of your new husband out of fear of what he’s capable of when one of his employees makes a move at a dinner meeting.

warnings: anxious reader, threat of domestic violence (reader is just worried abt it), groping, please let me know if i missed something or need to add anything!

a/n: reader is very timid in this. i know a lot of people like a reader who doesn’t take shit and stands up for herself, but i often find myself in situations where i just shut down and don’t know how to respond… so this is kinda inspired by that feeling

pt 2 -> control

two months out of forever.

two months of what seemed like wedded bliss from the outside.

in reality, that “bliss” included sleeping in separate rooms, never even seeing each other unless necessary to make appearances for either of your parents. 

the ones who arranged for this to happen in the first place. 

you were just glad you were able to have your time for yourself. you thought you would use the time to continue writing for your book, but you’ve hit a serious case of writers block. so lovely. 

on the bright side, he wasn’t as controlling as your few friends had made it seem he would be. 

they had painted this picture of a monster in your head. a man who would loom over your presence during every waking second. a man who was controlling and wouldn’t let you have a personal life or secrets.

so far, he’s been the opposite. 

for some reason, that still leaves you unsteady. 

because they also painted him in a very violent, angry, red light. 

but maybe he had a mistress. if that were the case, he truly didn’t respect you or your family. it didn’t seem like bucky to do that, though. he wouldn’t ruin a business deal that benefitted him so much. 

the reason you married him was because your father’s finance business was going under, drowned in debts while the only options were to sell to the barnes’ or the rumlow’s. the barnes’ seemed the lesser of two evils.

the only way to smoothly transition your father’s business to be under the barnes’ control without raising any question of your father’s capability was to marry. if any questions were asked about why your father sold his company, the not so good side of the finance industry would trample after your entire family. the barnes’ would get a new company and their many clients, while your family wouldn’t become entirely blacklisted by the entire country, would be putting your family under the barnes’ protection, and there would be less questions asked as to why the company had been merged.

you had a few months of “leaking” images of you and bucky together into the tabloids to prepare the public for the news of such a big marriage. some were photos of you and bucky holding hands while walking. a couple of you at a restaurant smiling. a few staged kissing photos… those may or may not have been your favorite.

those times spent with him, in all honesty, weren’t bad at all. going for walks together at sunset, dinner dates, feeling his lips against yours…

you had gotten to know more about his childhood that the tabloids didn’t feel was important to cover. his favorite subject in school and how he actually lost his arm so many years ago. you learned each others’ fears and worries in life. your favorite thing to learn about him, however, was what he truly wanted in life. 

peace.

a couple weeks after the wedding, a few photos of the reception were once again “leaked” in order to sell the “too in love to wait” bit that everyone had started assuming upon seeing the first few photos of you and bucky together. 

but all of your history with him flew to the back of your mind as bucky knocked on your office door. 

“come in,” you replied hesitantly, not sure what he wanted from you for the first time since your wedding. he stepped through the threshold and stood at the doorframe. 

“there’s a work meeting tomorrow,” his hand remained on the doorknob, so stiff you’d think he might rip it off the precious white wood in seconds. “the men are meeting at the house. i wanted to let you know. the men in this business, they expect marriages to be of the… traditional values.”

you nodded with understanding, turning to face him with a forced grin. “so i should play the part of the doting housewife, huh?” no smile in return, so you bit back your humor in turn for matching his serious tone. “what food should i prepare, then? and uh, how many guests will we be expecting?”

“whatever’s easiest for you,” he shrugged lightly. “there will be 9 of us there.” with one final look in your direction, he left the office and didn’t return to say goodnight. 

-

the next morning you got to work setting the house up for the 6pm meeting your loving husband was hosting. 

you had decided to set up a buffet-style table outside of the main dining room where the meeting would take place. for the menu, you settled on simple grilled chicken with quite a few side options. roast potatoes, asparagus, sauteed carrots, green beans, and rolls. 

you were putting the rolls in the oven when bucky got home, seemingly entranced by the smell of all the food, heading straight to the kitchen.

“it smells amazing in here,” bucky called from the archway of the kitchen. you jumped slightly from the surprise, but swallowed down the shock and another weak smile. 

“thanks,” you nodded to the edge of the island where a large chalkboard sat, your handwriting neatly displayed on the board that listed all the food to be had. “the menu. i figured a variety would be nice, and who doesn’t like chicken, right?”

“vegetarians,” if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was telling a joke. but you knew better than that. “the men are coming in a little less than an hour. do you maybe want to change before they get here?”

you looked down at what you were wearing, a pair of blue jeans and a loose t-shirt clearly not worthy of someone who had married a barnes man. “right, of course. i’m sorry,” you finished setting the timer on the oven and ran upstairs to get yourself put together before bucky saw the tears trying to seep past your waterline. 

you settled on a black cocktail dress you had worn to one of your dad’s company events before the downfall… quickly swiping some makeup on to cover the exhaustion in your eyes and pulling your hair up to a more respectable updo rather than your typical messy bun. 

luckily you had become an expert at quickly getting ready from your time in university, as you were back in time to pull the rolls from the oven, but not before pulling on your apron. you’d be dammed if you got this stunning dress dirty right before this prestigious meeting. 

t-5 minutes before the meeting was supposed to begin and you could already hear lots of rustling from the formal dining room. you knocked on the closed doors before bucky opened the door for you. 

the men went silent as their gaze rested on you in the doorway. 

“the foods ready. buffet style?” your eyes didn’t leave bucky’s pretty blues, too scared to do anything wrong in front of his men. 

“that’s perfect, my love,” his hands gravitated to your waist before pulling your body taut against his, one hand moving a stray hair behind your ear before leaning in to whisper. “you look ravishing…”

as he pulled back, you were sure your blush was evident across your cheeks. you tried to hide it behind a smile, shrugging with a shy ‘thanks’ leaving your lips. 

“what do you say to my stunning wife, boys?” his hand squeezed your waist once more before turning to the other men, ‘thank you’s being echoed throughout the room as they stood and made their way to the kitchen to make their plates. 

in a matter of minutes, all the food was gone. you figured it was best they liked the food, even if you didn’t get to try any of it yourself like you had planned. 

you got started on cleaning everything up with earbuds in your ears, starting with the dishes already in the sink from when you were cooking. then, you were sure to place the dishes that the food was in inside the sink for you to clean before starting on wiping the counters, then sweeping, then mopping, and then back to the dishes. 

you didn’t realize that bucky had called for a break in the meeting, however. you were in for quite the rude awakening when you felt a pair of hands on your waist, but not the ones you were semi-familiar with. 

you turned around with a gasp, shock evident on your face as you tried to piece together whoever this man was. blond hair, blue eyes… definitely not steve though. you knew steve well and had seen him often. 

you pulled your earbuds from your ears in attempt to better understand what was going on. his hands were still gripping your sides, but you couldn’t necessarily escape his touch. you were backed against the sink. even if you could fight him, you’d likely lose to his strong grip. 

“is the meeting-is it over already?” your voice was so much more cowardly than you’d ever expected yourself to be. 

“no, no,” he shook his head. “just a little break, some of the guys were getting antsy.” you leaned back further, trying to create some semblance of space between you. “i figured i’d say a special thank you, on behalf of all of us guys in there.” he let one hand cup the side of your face and neck, his other hand trailing down from your waist, firmly grasping your ass with a sqeeze before you jumped at the invasion.

“i don’t-i’ve got it…”

“john,” he smiled grossly, as if he could convince you to go to bed with him.

“no need for a thanks,” you tried to remind him. “i did this for bucky. for my husband.” your eyebrows rose, trying to emphasize that his boss was also your husband. 

“i’m sure he won’t mind you getting a little bit of extra special attention, don’t you?”

then, a growling voice cut through the fear running through your veins. 

“i think he might mind.”

you turned to face bucky with wide eyes before facing john, wishing the tears welling in your eyes would just go away. 

his hands slowly retracted, stepping back with a chuckle.

“sorry, sir,” he smiled before turning to face your husband. “she was just telling me how she wanted some extra attention, weren’t you, toots?” he tilted his head expectantly.

your mouth opened, nothing leaving in spite of your brain screaming at you. what would bucky do? would he take his side? would he believe you? would he hurt you? 

you’ve embarrassed him now… humiliated him in his own home. surely he’ll take action against you for this. 

your mind replayed stories your old friends had told you about him. how he would lash out at men that betrayed him. how he never took shit from anyone who showed him any disrespect. how he was the kind of man to shoot first and ask quesitons later.

and now, in a way, you’ve both betrayed and disrespected him. or at least, that’s what he’ll think. 

you didn’t even realize tears were flowing down your face until your sobs were interrupted. 

“enough!” you finally looked at bucky before his eyes softened for a second before walking closer to you. “go to the room.” he ordered sternly. 

“but the dish-”

“i’ll take care of it,” he interrupted gravely, “go. to. the. room.” 

“yes, sir,” you nodded and swiftly left the room entirely, collapsing against the door once you had shut it, sobs wracking your body. you held your knees against your chest before trying to regulate your breathing.

he won’t hurt you.

he has to protect his image.

you’ve embarrassed him.

you’re his wife.

you’re his business deal.

you’ve humiliated him.

he’ll hurt you.

you didn’t know how long it had been since the incident. 

your sobs had subsided. you had, at some point, moved to your bed. you were still rocking your body back and forth, trying to self sooth. 

and then there was a knock at the door. 

your body instinctively jumped at the sudden noise, although it wasn’t harsh in any manner, at least not one that you were expecting. 

he twisted the knob, slowly opening the door with slow movements. 

“i-i’m so sorry,” you began apologizing as soon as he stepped through the threshold into your room. “i swear-i swear i didn’t tell him that. i didn’t even realize he was there, i promise. i wouldn’t lie to you. i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry. please believe me.” your body was still rocking and you didn’t even notice he was as close to you as he was until you saw his hand moving by your head.

automatically, you assumed the absolute worst, your head ducking into your body like a fucking turtle, the meekest squeal leaving your lips mixed with a sob. your arms went over your head protectively, as if a bomb were about to go off.

“sweetheart,” his voice sounded so broken, so torn, so unexpectedly soft. 

you finally looked at him for the first time since he came in your room. his flesh hand was holding his metal one as if it were something that could kill. in ways, it was. 

“you-there’s no need to…” after looking at him for a second longer, you noticed that his eyes had tears that almost mirrored your own. “i would never, ever lay a hand on you. i’m so sorry for scaring you. i can’t…” he sighed. “i can’t believe i made you believe i’d ever hurt you.”

“i’m sorry,” you pleaded with him once again. 

“you have nothing to apologize for,” he hesitated to reach for your hands before settling on simply grabbing a spare pillow. “i came up here to apologize. for my tone earlier… i know john. he never knows his boundaries. i should’ve… you never should’ve been put in that situation. that’s my fault. that’s on me. and i will spend the rest of forever to make it up to you.” 

“you don’t have to-”

“no, my love,” he shook his head. “can i-can i hold your hands? please?” you, without hesitation, grabbed his hands yourself. “i need to make it up to you. you’re mine. you’re my wife. it’s my job to protect you, to keep you safe. and to have someone ruin that? to touch what’s mine in my own home? i’m so sorry.” he brought your hands to his lips, pressing at least ten kisses to each hand. he was so gentle and careful it was a good thing you knew better than to think it actually meant anything.

you were surprised, to say the least, at how tender he was being with you. 

how could you have ever thought he would hurt you? that he would raise his hand and swing? that he would cause you harm? he was here declaring that he would make up this incident for the rest of eternity when it wasn’t even his doing… 

“will you stay with me tonight?” his eyes lit up at the request.

“are you sure you want that?” he became a touch more reserved. “i don’t know if it’s a good idea since you were worried i would…” his voice trailed off.

“i’m sure,” you nodded before scooting over in the bed. 

sure, your marriage was arranged and didn’t stem from true love. you may not have talked outside of when absolutely necessary. you might have even been terrified of him at one point. 

but now, the thought of forever with bucky barnes didn’t seem half bad. 

[nerdy-novelist017]

A Date (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader Pt 3)

Thank you so much for all your kind words, likes and reblogs on my last two posts! You guys are keeping me so entertained with the comments!

Ugh I rewrote this like 3 times :( I just couldn't get it right and I'm still not sure how I feel about it OH WELL

Benny x Bunny Masterlist

Word Count- 2.2K

Summary- You were sure you'd never see Benny Cross again. . . you were wrong.

******

“Benny’s been asking for ya.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you nearly dropped the receiver into the bowl of cake batter. Kathy’s statement came out of left field, the two of you having been discussing the latest news on the block – what kind of lipstick Sheryl Dickie uses that somehow always lasts an entire night of bar hopping. “What?”

“Yeah, says he’s real desperate to ask you somethin’,” Kathy’s tone was flippant, but you’ve known her long enough to hear the excitement she’s hiding in her voice.

“What could he possibly have to talk to me about?” You asked as you set the whisk down and moved around the kitchen counter to peak down the hallway towards the living room where you knew your father sat in his large recliner, watching a rerun of Bonanza. 

“I dunno, maybe you should come to another meetin’ so you can find out.”

“No, I’m not going to anymore of those.” you declared firmly, yanking the cord so that the phone was up to your other ear. “I don’t know how you can stand being around those guys.”

Kathy laughed, the static spiking. “C’mon, they’re fun, and you know it. Did you tell your parents how you got to ride on the back of a Vandal’s bike, and not just any Vandal!”

“No!” you squeaked. “And they’re never going to know. It was a one-time thing.”

“It doesn’t have to be. They’re having another meetin’ tonight. I’m sure Benny could pick you up–”

“Well, I can’t tonight,” you cut her off. “I have plans.”

“What plans?”

“My date.”

“Date?” Kathy asked, voice lowering dubiously. “With who?”

“Pete,” you said quietly. 

“Who?” she asked again.

You sighed. “Pete? The guy from Mama’s church?” 

Pete was introduced to you last week by your mother who was introduced to him by his mother. It was a train of people who wanted to matchmake, to see young love blossom before their eyes, even if it was forced. Pete was nice enough and he had kind eyes that sat behind wide-rimmed glasses. You’d been on one other date with him. He was an engineering student in his first year and he talked a lot about his school. He liked school. And he liked to golf nearly every weekend (his family belonged to the country club on the upper side of town). And mostly – he talked a lot about himself. He seemed to really like himself too.

“Oh, okay.” Kathy sounded unimpressed.

“My family really likes him. My dad likes him.”

“Yeah?” 

At her unenthusiastic response, you added quickly, “And I’m excited!”

“Is that why you’re stress-baking?” Kathy inquired as if she could sense it.

You glance down at the bowl of cake batter. No, it wasn’t, actually. You weren’t nervous to go on your second date with Pete; he didn’t make her nervous, didn’t fill your belly with those pesky butterflies. Pete was . . . just Pete. No, you were stress-baking because of a certain blonde Bikerider whose ocean blue eyes wouldn’t leave your thoughts all night. You were up, tossing and turning, replaying every moment with him like a broken record. It was one ride, the logical side of your mind had to say, and you’ll never see him again. You allowed yourself the rest of the night to think about him, and then you wouldn’t set aside any more time. 

In theory, it was a nice strategy. But when you woke up today, your thoughts were absolutely clouded with him and his incredibly direct eye-contact and his deeply rich voice and his hand touching your thigh and his lips encasing the cigarette—

You were doing it again! It had been one ride! One ride and a few hours. One ride where your arms wrapped so tightly to his solid form. One ride where he showed you places you’d never seen before, from a point of view you’d never been before. One ride where you felt as though you were seeing the world in a whole new light. One ride that you couldn’t get out of your head.

“Yes, because of Pete,” you replied evenly. “And I’m going to have a good time with him tonight.”

There’s a smile in her voice when she says, “Okay, sure. Say, what restaurant did ya say he was takin’ you?”

********

Thanking the driver, you stepped out of the cab, your heels connecting softly with the concrete of the sidewalk. Taking a moment to smooth any wrinkles on your pink dress, your gaze fluttered across the street to the restaurant Pete told you to meet him at. 

Ricardo’s was one of the most expensive restaurants in town, somewhere you never found yourself frequenting, but Pete absolutely gushed about their food. Coming from old money, Pete had no hesitation picking here for your second date. Pete’s family was well off, that’s what your mother liked to point out. He was a good boy with good money. He would provide for you, buy you a nice house with a picket fence in the front yard. A safe bet for the same routine life that nearly all the women of your family had spanning back several generations.

You made your way across the street, eyes taking in the lineup of expensive cars parked out front: Mercedes, Rolls Royce, Cadillac . . . Harley-Davidson motorcycle. You did a double-take at the shiny metal glinting underneath the streetlamp, eyes traveling upwards to the figure leaning casually against it. He was looking at the restaurant, head turned to give a generous view of his profile, and he hadn’t noticed you yet. For a split second, you considered taking advantage of that and booking it into the front door before he had a chance to stop you. But some deeply intrinsic part of you yearned to memorize every detail of him and you simply couldn’t look away. As a moth drawn to flame, you were drawn to him, to the golden streaks of his hair, down to the strong slope of his nose, the curve where his top lip sat so perfectly against the bottom – even with the cigarette tucked between. He wore long sleeves under his club jacket and the same distressed jeans from your last encounter. Half shrouded in the darkness of night, with the orange glow of the streetlight nearest to him, he looked like a beacon of mystery. Abandoning your previous course, you turned and approached him.

“What are you doing here?” You asked once you were close enough for him to hear you. 

Benny turned and a smile broke out over his features, eyes sweeping down your figure. “Do you dress like that all the time or only when you’re gonna see me?” He asked, nodding to your dress and heels. 

You stopped about 6 feet away from him (a reasonable distance), hopping up onto the sidewalk. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” 

“What a chance encounter,” he proclaimed with a secretive wink that sent your stomach on a roller coaster ride. 

“Chance encounter, or Kathy’s loose lips?” you quipped and he rubbed a hand over his mouth to keep from smiling, fingers grazing through the blonde, recently-trimmed facial hair.  

“Why are you here?” You asked again, this time a touch quieter.  

“Well, I have a coupon,” he replied simply.

You couldn’t stop the smile from tugging at your lips, your brows raising incredulously. “A coupon? To Ricardo’s?”

“Mm-hm,” he nodded, straight-faced.

You rolled your eyes at his antics. He had a coupon, your ass. A well-dressed elderly couple walked past you both on the sidewalk, each shooting a look of disapproval toward the dirty young man leaning against his death machine. Benny seemed not to notice them, his gaze still on you. 

“Why are you here?” he questioned.

“I–I have a date,” you replied and desperately tried to ignore the heat rising to your face at the admission. “But something tells me you already know that.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, looking down to the ground for all of five seconds before his gaze flashed back up to you. “Wanna go for a ride, Little Bunny?”

“What? No.” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Why not?”

“Well, I just told you I'm here for a date,” you replied with a tilt of your head. 

Benny shrugged. “So?”

You shook your head but he continued, “Why are you wastin’ your time with dates when we’re gonna be married anyway?”

Your mouth fell open in surprise. The nerve on this guy! Part of you was surprised that he still had it in his head of marrying you. You thought maybe he had a few too many beers last night or was just smooth-talking you so that you’d let him sleep with you. But here he was, showing up on the sidewalk, giving you those puppy eyes. You’d already denied him once. Could he not take a hint?

“I don’t recall you ever asking.” you pointed out, feeling emboldened by his casual attitude. 

He perked up at that, tossing the remainder of his cigarette to the ground. “You want me to ask?”

You fought to remain neutral-faced at his playfulness. “No, thank you. Now, if you’ll excuse me . . . I have a date.” One that you were excited about before you caught sight of Benny and your train of thoughts completely derailed.

Benny held his hands up in a conciliatory way and you turned on your heel, leaving him out on the streets as you made your way inside.

******

The clock on the far wall seemed to be mocking you, minutes ticking by mercilessly. You resisted looking at it, instead planting your chin in the palm of your hand as you watched the door, waiting for Pete’s familiar face to appear. It had been over an hour. He was over an hour late for your date. 

Each time the waitress returned to fill your glass of water, you told yourself a new lie. He was just stuck at work, he’ll be here soon. He was running behind getting ready, he’ll be here soon. There must have been an emergency, he’ll be here soon. He wouldn’t stand you up, he’ll be here soon. 

But as the seconds passed, you sunk further and further into your seat, humiliation forming a ball in your stomach. Surely, he had gotten his days mixed up? He really seemed to enjoy your first date, so why was he nowhere to be seen. Every time someone walked through the front door, the little bell chiming above, you glanced up, certain it would be him. But it never was. At first, you were angry. How could he have the audacity to leave you hanging without so much as calling you before he left if he knew he wouldn’t be able to make it. Then a bitter thought came to mind: what if he stood you up because he didn’t want to go out with you again. What if you weren't good enough for him. You had spent your whole life on the never ending hamster wheel of trying to be good enough for everyone else. Was your hard work even noticed?

Recognizing the sting of unshed tears, you looked down at the napkin folded neatly in your lap, blinking rapidly in an attempt to get control of yourself. The bell chimed over the front door, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look over at it, not wanting to feel the crushing disappointment of another wealthy customer walking inside and not your date. 

Then a flash of dark clothing popped across from you and you looked up just as Benny Cross slid into the empty seat. You opened your mouth, but no words came out. He leaned forward, elbows of his leather jacket propped over the tablecloth.

“Pete not show?” he asked, expression solemn. 

Your ears burned and you shook your head. Too preoccupied by your embarrassment, it didn’t even occur to you that you had never told him Pete’s name. 

He frowned and he genuinely appeared upset. Unable to maintain his direct gaze, you glanced away and caught the eyes of everyone else in the restaurant staring wide-eyed at the two of you. You realized that it was Benny who they were gawking at. And you didn’t seem to notice until now that he looked totally out of place with his worn clothes and dirty hands. As if sensing their not-so-subtle staring, Benny turned and looked about the room.

“What’s with all the stiff shirts in here?” he asked, sending you a conspiratorial glance. “I think they might be intimidated by you.”

“Me?” You furrowed your brow. It definitely wasn’t you they were looking at. In fact, the only person who was staring at you was Benny. 

“Yeah, I bet they’ve never seen anyone as pretty as you. Most people haven’t and they don't know how to act when they do.” He grinned and you had to look down at your lap as heat rose to your face.  

“I guess Pete wouldn’t agree,” you muttered quietly, feeling the anger in your heart fizzle out to meer disappointment. 

“Fuck Pete,” Benny said passionately, causing an elderly woman behind you to gasp and you giggled, shocked at his language. Benny was bad, he was trouble . . . but he was also fun, and you couldn’t hide your eagerness as he leaned his arms across the table, moving closer to address you privately. 

“You wanna get out of here, Bunny?” His question sent a gust of anticipation through your veins. 

“Yeah,” you admitted, smiling shyly. 

He stood quickly and you followed in suit. Then he did something that caused a wave of butterflies to roll through your stomach; he reached out and clasped his hand with you, interlocking fingers tightly. You grinned, excitement making you feel light and airy as he pulled you through the restaurant, past all the staring faces and harsh whispers and out the door into the night which felt alive with a whole new feeling of possibilities. 

*Tag List*

@imusicaddict @elizabeth916 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @dudii4love @ironmooncat @beebeechaos @astrogrande @pearlparty @themorriganisamonster @sillylittlethrowaway @ughdontbeboring @penwieldingdreamer @charmingballoon @eugene-emt-roe  @sunnbib @semperamans @groovyangelkisses @killerqueenfan

[sweetdispatch]

Attention seeker - M. Rempe

pairing: Matt Rempe x Hughes!reader

summary: You and Matt are together. Quinn and Luke are cool with that but Jack? He's furious.

warning: swearing

words: 1.7k

note: thank you lovely anon for this request! hope you don't mind that i've made a whole fic instead of short blurb💋

hughes!reader masterlist

---

All your life was about hockey. Your brothers play it, your parents played it and you used to too. Although, for you the journey ended up when you got a nasty injury during one of the games and couldn’t compete anymore. You felt sad at first, but this opened plenty of opportunities for you. When you graduated high school, you decided to leave Michigan. You didn’t want to follow Quinn’s steps there. 

New York was always your dream place to live. That’s why you decided to apply for university there. Thankfully, you got it and this is how your free life hockey started. At least this is what you thought. Your parents begged you to move with your brother Jack who was playing for New Jersey Devils. At first, you didn’t like the idea of travelling every single day but eventually you agreed on that. 

In May 2023, you decided to move out from Jack’s apartment. You graduated and wanted to be independent, plus Luke was coming to play with him and you didn’t want to third wheel them. During the three years, you and Jack bonded and became the closest with each other. Earlier, he was always with Quinn while you were with Luke but now, it was you and Jack against them. 

One thing that you learned about Jack was that he hated the New York Rangers. You get it that the teams have conflict but he took it personally. This is when everything you built with him fell down. You were always sharing the stories about guys with him and searching for help but now, you couldn’t now. You knew that he’s dramatic and the last thing you wanted was an argument with him over who you are dating. 

At the beginning of 2024, you met Matt. At first, you didn’t know he’s a hockey player but two of you clicked immediately. You lived in your bubble with him until he started playing for Rangers. In that moment you knew that you can’t tell this to your brothers. He understood it because he hated the New Jersey Devils and he wouldn’t like his sister dating a player from this team. 

You lived by yourself so you didn’t have to sneak out behind your two brothers' backs with your relationship but every time Matt was coming to you, you felt the thrill that they might come by to visit. You believed that he’s your soulmate and didn’t want to choose between him and your brothers. When things become serious between you and Matt, you have to share this with someone. You called your mom to break the news.

“Mom, I met a guy and he’s been really good for me” You started.

“That’s wonderful! Tell me everything about him” She was curious to know who won her daughter’ heart.

“His name is Matt and he’s a hockey player” 

“You can’t get out of the hockey world” Your mom jokes.

“But there’s a problem…” You took a deep breath and continued. “He plays for Rangers”

“Ohhh… Do your brothers know?” She asked.

“No and you can’t tell them” You begged.

“You have to tell them. They’ll find out eventually and it’s better if they hear it from you and not from someone other” Your mom stated.

“You’re right but I can’t. At least for now. I just need to find a good occasion for this I guess” You said and hung up. 

The next few days you were thinking how to tell the news to your brothers. You weren’t scared of Quinn and Luke’ reaction. Jack was the one that scared you the most to tell this. For your luck, Quinn was living in a different country so you decided to tell him this first.

“I have a boyfriend” You said the moment he picked up your phone.

“Okay, you need my blessing for this?” Quinn was confused why you told him that. 

“No but I need you to keep this as a secret” 

“Why?” 

“It’s Matt from Rangers and you know how much Jack hates them” You sighed. 

“I won’t tell him that but you know that he’ll find out? You live like 30 minutes from each other” He tried to convince you to admit this to Jack.

“I know but I’m scared, you know Jack. He’s a drama queen” Quinn laughed at your words. 

“Well, good luck with Jack and I’m happy for you. It make sense why you were smiling that much lately” 

“I did not!” You fought back.

After a week, you were ready to tell the news to Jack, but to your bad luck, Devils were playing against Rangers. You went to this game and the first thing you saw was a huge fight and of course, Matt was part of it. Now, your confidence in telling this to Jack disappeared. The game ended up and you went back to your apartment. You didn’t want to see Matt or your brothers. You needed to rethink this whole situation. 

Two hours later, you heard the ring door. You went to open and saw Matt in front of you. You let him but hadn’t said a word.

“I came because you weren’t answering your phone” He started. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, I still have my phone in my purse and haven’t heard” You lied. 

Matt went and sat on your couch when you arrived next to him. He turned on the tv show you two have been watching lately. When the episode ended, you heard the ring door. Without even thinking, you went to open the door. You froze on the spot when you saw your brothers. 

“Umm, what are you doing here?” You asked awkwardly. 

“I don’t know, we decided to visit our sister probably” Jack said and walked with Luke into your apartment. 

“What are the noises?” Luke asked you but before you could answer, you two heard Jack. 

“What the fuck does he do here?” He was fuming. It was a tense atmosphere there.

“He’s there because… we’re dating” You admitted. Jack looked at you with big eyes. 

“What? Are you kidding me?” He couldn’t believe what he just heard.

“I’m not, we’ve been together for the past four months” You started playing with your fingers and Luke noticed it. He knew it was your anxiety habit.

“Jack, does it matter who she's dating?” Luke tried to talk to Jack but he didn’t want to listen.

“Yes! She can’t fucking date him. From all of the guys you had to pick him?” He closed the distance between you two. “Are you that desperate for attention that you picked him?”

“What does it supposed to mean?” You argued.

“That you’re an attention seeker! I get it, you’re mad that your brothers made it into NHL when you fucked your knee but that’s on you. You’ve always been terrible in hockey anyways, but searching for attention by dating the worst player out there? Pathetic. Don’t come to me when he makes you cry because…” Before he could finish, Matt spoke.

“What the fuck did you just said to her? You’re her brother and you’re blaming her for her injury and falling in love with someone you don’t like? You’re the pathetic one for thinking this low about your own sister” Jack hadn’t responded. Only looked at you and saw tears in your eyes. He knew he screwed up but his ego didn’t let him apologise. Instead, he left the apartment. 

Matt quickly was by your side and hugged you. He let you cry into his chest while Luke was standing there, observing the whole situation.

“I’m so sorry for him. He’s a dick for saying this to you. That was a low blow from him to bring your insecurities” He said and you went to hug him. 

“Thanks Luke, are you mad too?” 

“I’m not thrilled that you’re dating Matt but I can see how much happiness and support he gives you and that’s the most important thing right?” You nodded. “I’ll try to talk with Jack about it but he just needs a moment to get used to it” He hugged you and left. You were there alone with Matt.

“Are you okay?” He asked, concerned.

“I’ll live. Can we get back to the tv show because I really don’t want to talk about it” You proposed and Matt agreed.

Couple days went by and you haven’t heard a word from Jack. It hurt you that your own brother turned back on you only because you’re dating a guy from his rival team. Matt was all the time next to you trying to be supportive. Luke told everyone about the argument. Quinn and your parents were checking on you to see how you feel. They also spare a piece of their mind to Jack.

Jack was aware that he messed up real good. He knew how heartbroken you were about your injury and he just threw it into your face. He wanted to apologise and fix it but he didn’t know how. He was scared that you might shut him down and ignore. It was the longest time when you two haven’t spoken with each other and he felt weird without you by his side. 

After his season was done, Jack finally found the bravery to visit you. He knew you’re not going home for summer because you have work. That's why his steps lead to your apartment. He knocked two times and waited. You opened the door not expecting to see him.

“If you want to scream at me again, you can go” 

“No, I want to apologise. Can I come in?” You stepped further into your place and he followed you. 

“I’m listening” You crossed your arms on the chest.

“I’m so sorry for how I reacted. It was wrong. I was just shocked that you’re dating a Rangers guy but it’s not an excuse. I deeply regret saying everything I said. You didn’t deserve it. I acted like a dick” He said and you felt that his words were sincere.

“You really acted like a dick” You agreed with him. 

“Please, forgive me for that. I’ll take me some time to get use to it but I want you to be happy”

“Matt makes me happy. He might be the biggest menace on the ice but off the ice, he’s the best guy around. I honestly don’t remember the last time I had so much fun with someone” You sighed. “I don’t need you to like him but at least act neutral towards him”

“Fine, but if he hurts you…” You laughed hearing it. Jack pulled you into a hug, happy that you two sorted things out. 

[luvhughes43]

BOYFRIEND | quinn hughes

[luvhughes43 masterlist🌙]

based off the song boyfriend by ariana grande

summary: every summer without fail you and quinn fall back into old habits... you two aren't official but the feelings are there.

word count: 3.4k

i'm a motherfuckin' train wreck i don't wanna be too much but i don't wanna miss your touch and you don't seem to give a fuck

all of your life you had four loves. there was shitty reality television, your home state-michigan, your summers at your familys lake house, and then there was quinn hughes.

you had always loved him even if you hadn't recognized it yourself. back then, both of your parents would make little comments about how they're going to end up together one day! but when you stayed in michigan and quinn moved to vancouver everything changed.

when quinn left school to pursue hockey you assumed that your friends with benefits situation would fizzle out. but it hadn't. and so youre left wanting as you watch the brunet boy trapeze around his backyard - greeting boys he'd seen countless times over the hockey season while you were stuck at school.

when you finally do catch this eye, he waltz over with a shit-eating grin. "hey, haven't seen you in awhile," he teases, pulling you under his impressive arm. you stumble into his side with practice ease and quinn tilts his head to look down your solo cup. "the fuck is that?"

you hold the cup over your head to where you assumed his lips would be, "i dont know jack made it - 'could be anything,"

quinn reaches for the cup and takes a measured sip. "that'll kill you," he winces, spilling the cups contents on the grass and tossing the cup along with it.

you sigh, peeved. quinn did this thing where he assumes he knows what's best. "i was actually drinking that,"

"yeah, yeah, i'll get you something else," he says distractedly as someone from across the yard flags him down.

just as quinns about to leave again you grab his arm and pull him back to you. even though you're embarrassed to ask you lower your voice and whisper, "when am i going to see you again?"

quinn pauses. "like, are we gonna..."

you remain silent, not wanting to say what you truly want. it was easier to hint at your forays instead of being honest about things. "i'll catch up with you tonight, promise" he kisses the underside of your wrist before shouting playfully to someone in the distance.

i don't wanna keep you waiting but i do just what i have to do and i might not be the one for you but you ain't about to have no boo

an hour later you wander inside the boy's house to grab yourself a refill. there was still no sign of quinn - and so you decide to unwind a little bit before the night truly got underway. every year the guys would host a party to reign in the end of the season. guys from across the country would travel and spend a week in michigan celebrating with packs of zyns, cases of beer, and endless rounds of golf.

"zyn?" trevor zegras says as he holds out a small white pouch towards you. you shake your head no and trevor shoves the circular box back into his short pockets.

"i heard he's single," a girl to your left whispers loudly to a group of her friends. trevors head turns instinctively,but you pay the group of girls no attention.

"ten bucks they're talking about me," trevor leans down and whispers.

"twenty bucks they're not," you announce back and then the two of you messily shake on it. you probably shouldn't have gone to jack for a refill on his concoction but quinn was taking too long so...

"well quinns hot so if he is single, i'll try it," you're not sure what it was exactly but your face heats up regardless. beside you, trevor groans and fishes his wallet out of his back pocket.

youre pretty sure he tries to hand you a wad of crumpled up ones but you were no longer paying attention to trevor or your bets. instead, your focus shifted to a gorgeous blonde hyping herself up to go and talk to your best friend.

'cause I know we be so complicated but we be so smitten, it's crazy i can't have what I want, but neither can you

"alright... i know they're wrinkled but cash is legal tender..." trevor trails off obnoxiously and thus you grab hold of his ten dollars clenching your fist.

"i'll see you later?" you call out distractedly, solely focused on the blonde approaching quinn across the room.

you ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend) and I ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend) but you don't want me to see nobody else and I don't want you to see nobody

it was wrong to use others for personal gain but you were sure there had to be an exception for making somebody jealous. plus, it wasn't like quinn was a saint either.

you vividly remember how quinn chatted up some girl in your class two years ago at a frat party. it was a shitty thing to do, considering how much you complained about that particular girls work ethic after she left you hanging on a group project.

the next morning, quinn had stopped by your apartment to apologize with a bouquet of peonies in hand. you had reluctantly forgiven him, but because the two of you weren't exactly exclusive the fight dissolved on your tongue before you could even properly fight about it.

"hey baby," you tease all your syllables - making sure the baby really rings out in tune. quinns smile doesn't falter at your emergence, instead, he grins as his attention turns from the blonde and onto you.

"y/n," he glances between you and the new girl. you'd have to work for his attention a little more than you'd like to tonight. "as i was saying..." quinn resumes his conversation with the girl slowly, trying his hardest to piss you off.

a tuft of dark black hair peeks it's way through your peripheral and your head immediately turns to find alex turcotte standing alone a few feet away. "turcs!" you call out in the same teasing tone you'd used on quinn and alexs attention is immediately focused on you.

"baby!" he yells jovially, and you could not have planned something better yourself. baby, was a nickname assigned to you after a particular summer in which you were obsessed with dirty dancing. you had pranced around the house to its soundtrack and forced anybody who was around to dance with you - all embarrassingly bad imitations of patrick swayze.

you dont turn to acknowledge quinns reaction but you imagine it as you sway your way over to alex. quinns face would be scrunched up in annoyance, and his eyes would darken just a tad to accompany his scowl. if there was one thing quinn hated more than he liked teasing you, it was you teasing him back.

"so strong!" you laugh loudly, gripping onto alex's arm. his hand brushes across your lower back and you smile brightly when he leaves it resting there.

"you really know how to work a guy, huh?" he laughs before removing his hand altogether. "what are you drinking?" he asks then, shifting tones dramatically from flirtatious to friends-since-childhood.

"i don't know jack made it," you hold the cup up to his face and he recoils with a scuff.

"you're going to be so sick tomorrow,"

you take a sip of your drink before glancing back in quinns direction. his dark eyes were still trained on you but the blonde was still at his side. flirting with alex was truly petty. both you and quinn knew nothing would ever come of it but it was still fun to get him riled up anyway.

but you ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend) and I ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend) but you don't want me to touch nobody else baby, we ain't gotta tell nobody

"want to get me something else?" you ask with a soft voice and you hope it carries to where quinns standing.

alex looks at you momentarily before shaking his head quickly. "uh, yeah, yeah let's go to the kitchen..." you take the lead in your venture to the kitchen and alex slinks his arm around your waist.

you barely make it out of the living room before quinn interrupts your path. "hey man, its been awhile," his smile is strained as he reaches a hand out to alex. the two greet each other and the flashes of disappointment on quinns face is evident when alex doesnt take his arm away from your body.

"where ya two heading?" he asks.

alex hits his solo cup against yours and a slosh of molten liquid rolls over the rim of your cup and onto your new white shoes. "this one needs a new drink. jack made her another one his his "concoctions,"" alex laughs easily but quinns face is entirely tense.

you stay silent.

"oh, i can take her," quinn says with a slight edge.

"it's no worries i can do it," alex assures him with a small smile. "i think jacks in the kitchen and i wanna say hello," he adds when quinn makes no move to back down.

"uh, i just saw him go outside actually," quinn states and you wonder if you should interrupt.

the two boys stare at each other tensely and alex drops his hand from your waist. "i'll see you later baby?" alex mutters lowly, and your head spins from whatever moment you just missed right there.

you nod dismissively to alex and watch in silence as he rapidly walks out of the living room. "what was that for?" you ask quinn as soon as you turn to face him. as expected, his eyebrows were scrunched together and his face show small signs of annoyance.

"you need a drink," is all quinn responds with, and you follow behind him slowly as he maneuvers his way through small crowds of people.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

your vodka cranberry was slowly spilling its contents onto quinns hardwood floor as it lay discarded.

"your floors getting all wet," you mumble against quinns lips the second the two of you pull apart. his hair was messy and his cheeks flush when he notices you staring.

"dont care," he huffs, pulling your hips flush against his own. "'been too long sine i've seen you last,"

you kiss his neck teasingly, "the wood will get ruined,"

quinn sighs and pulls away from you. he strips his shirt off and lets it fall atop your discarded solo cup. his confidence was something that had grown over the years and you were pleasantly delighted.

"thank you," you whisper to him as he slides his arms back against you. you wait for him to say something - mention what happened downstairs but quinn remains silent.

instead, he leads you backwards to his bed with well practiced ease. the games you two play were fun when they ended up like this, but at the same time you felt a twinge for something more.

even though you ain't mine, i promise the way we fight make me honestly feel like we just in love 'cause baby, when push comes to shove damn baby, i'm a train wreck, too (too) i lose my mind when it comes to you i take time with the ones I choose and I don't want to smile if it ain't from you, yeah

the sun streams through quinns open curtains, blinding him momentarily as his eyes adjust to the morning light. when everything comes into focus the first thing he notices is your figure curled up on the other side of his bed like a cat. quinn stretches and despite the brief disturbance your eyes stay firmly closed.

downstairs the house was a mess. empty bottles and cups littered the wood floors and empty food wrappers crinkle uncomfortably under quinns tired feet.

"morning," jack says as soon as his older brother steps into the dimly lit kitchen. jacks sandy hair is tousled and if his undereye bags were any indication of how he was feeling... it was clear that he was unwell.

"you look like shit," quinn chuckles as he tosses jack a bottle of aspirin.

"gee, thanks." jack rolls his eyes but pops a pill nonetheless.

quinn fixes himself some toast and the two brothers sit in comfortable silence.

"where's yn," jack asks, nursing a yellow gatorade.

"sleeping,"

jack hums in acknowledgement. he stares inquisitively at his brother - silently hinting at what's going on between the blurred lines of quinns and yns relationship, but quinn ignores him.

i know we be so complicated lovin' you sometime drive me crazy 'cause i can't have what I want and neither can you

late the next afternoon after tirelessly scrubbing down the floors and tossing out empty cans, the group of hockey players and friends make their way onto the lake.

as always, quinn drives and docks the boat in the middle of the lake so the group could swim and yn could suntan on the hard, white seats of the boat.

quinn wasnt an idiot. he knew that his best friend was hot. the stolen glances and not-so-subtle double takes weren't lost on him as his friends ogled her. she was undeniably gorgeous and someday their relationship wouldn't be enough anymore. she would eventually want more, and quinn wasn't sure he'd be able to give her a relationship she deserved from two thousand miles away.

you ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend) and i ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend) but you don't want me to see nobody else and i don't want you to see nobody

˚₊ · »-♡→ [instagram]

yourusername

liked by trevorzegras, bradytkachuk, joshnorris10, 3 333 others

yourusername daydreamin' 🧸

"what's the deal with yn and quinn anyway? have they always been so... intense?" alexander holtz asks between shooting pool.

jack sighs, "yeah theyre always like that. i wish they'd just get over whatever they've got going on and get together already. its honestly painful to watch," jack jokes tensely.

alex tuts, "i wish she were available"

another guy hums, "she's a total smoke show,"

"ew, shes like our sister," luke pipes up.

"your sister maybe," someone laughs. "she ain't mine,"

quinn silently turns away from the rec room to find you.

but you ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend) and i ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend) but you don't want me to touch nobody else baby, we ain't gotta tell nobody

"hey," you smile sweetly at quinns presence. he stares at you simply before sitting down on the decksteps next to you. he frowns when you set your book down beside you and you press your knee to his in an attempt to calm him. "what's wrong?"

quinn sighs deeply. "i just - i dont know. what are we doing?"

"what do you mean?" you ask even though you know where this conversation is heading.

quinn gestures between the two of you, "we've... things are different now,"

"i don't know what you're talking about," you say, genuinely taken off guard. "if this is about the party...?"

"we'd be an awful couple," quinn cuts in.

"who called us a couple?,"

"look, you're going to want more eventually and-"

you scoff. "are you going to actually talk to me? because i'm fine with out arrangement," you lie.

quinn stares at you with an unreadable expression. "look, it's not going to work"

"did the guys say something to you?" you bite. you reach your hand out to quinn but he pushes it away.

"no. i just don't think us being... involved... is a good idea anymore,"

"'involved'" you say sarcastically. you've been hooking up for three years now.

quinn stands up suddenly, "yeah. it's over - i'm over it,"

"okay?" youre defiant. "don't come begging to me when you see me with another guy - or when you need a quick lay. god, youre such an asshole!"

i wanna kiss you (yeah), don't wanna miss you (yeah) but i can't be with you 'cause i got issues yeah, on the surface, seem like it's easy careful with words, but it's still hard to read me

quinn didn't know why he shut everything down. he didn't want to - not really anyway. it was all so stupid and he shouldn't have reacted at all.

Stress high when the trust low (mmm) Bad vibes, where'd the fun go? (Oh) Try to open up and love more (love more) Try to open up and love more

the two friends move around each other awkwardly and the tension in the house was palpable. you start to skip out on summer activities, and quinn no longer seems to enjoy driving out into the lake when you were no longer sitting by his side. everything felt wrong.

If you were my boyfriend If you were my girlfriend I probably wouldn't see nobody else But I can't guarantee that by myself

"you know what, i'm glad we decided to all us quits. you were totally right! we wouldnt have made a good couple - you probably wouldnt have stopped seeing other people," your tone is scorching as you finally catch quinn alone.

"yeah well considering your track record you'd probably have gotten with somebody else before i even boarded my flight back to van," quinns quick to defend himself - leaving you reeling.

"what the fuck are you talking about?" you seethe, letting all your emotions wash over you at once.

"alex, that guy from u of m, the fucking football player!" quinn stresses the names of the last two, knowing those were the guys you hooked up while you were both at school.

you throw your arms up in the air, "you are such a hypocrite! do you know that? like seriously. lets not go tit for tat here quinn because trust i'll win every time,"

"everything always a game with you,"

you stare at him blankly. "what are we doing then? you told me the jealously was fun, you were the one who led me to your bed last week! you didn't want to get into a relationship in a first place!"

"so did you! don't spin this back on me!"

"i never said that!" you yell, "and i never got with alex,"

You ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend, you ain't my boyfriend) And I ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend, I ain't your girlfriend) But you don't want me to see nobody else (nobody) And I don't want you to see nobody

"you might as well be," quinn tries to bait you but you dont respond.

tears well up in your eyes, "you said you didn't see us being in an actual relationship"

at the sight of your tears quinn starts to backtrack. "im sorry-"

"no, i started all this," you say, wiping away your tears with the back of your sleeve. "i'm sorry for getting mad at you - i'm done,"

"what do you mean youre done?" quinn responds, following behind you as you walk back into the lake house. as soon as the sliding door slams shut heads turn towards the two of you.

"you said you were done and i agree," you say simply, tears threatening to spill over as you catch sight of luke staring at you in confusion.

without another word you storm up the stairs and begin packing your suitcase.

But you ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend, you know you ain't my boyfriend) And I ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend, yeah, mmm) But you don't want me to touch nobody else (nobody) Baby, we ain't gotta tell nobody (oh yeah)

your hands grip the steering wheel tightly as you drive the fifteen minute trip to your parents house. it was over, finally over between the two of you.

You ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend) And I ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend) But you don't want me to see nobody else And I don't want you to see nobody

a week went by, and everybody presses quinn on why you left.

"i don't know guys, stop asking me about it," his answer stays the same, although his undereyes get considerably darker as the days go by.

But you ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend) And I ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend, yeah) But you don't want me to touch nobody else (nobody) Baby, we ain't gotta tell nobody

˚₊ · »-♡→ [instagram]

yourusername

liked by _alexturcotte, jackhughes, yourfriend, and 1 403 others

yourusername baby loves 🎧

view all comments

yourfriend baby loves im tryna talk to youuuuu

yourusername theres a boy ! and i dont quite know... what to dooo

_alexturcotte stunner ⚡️

user01 did u and quinn have a fight or something ? why did u guys unfollow each other lololll

user05 literal princess !!!

user11 quinn unfollowed and alex commenting... 👀

_quinnhughes

liked by lhughes_06, bradytkachuk, 18 005 others

_quinnhughes summa with the brothers 🤟

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trevorzegras #Aesthetic

user08 no mention of yn... were cooked

user15 first summer photo numb in yearrrssss where yn didnt make a feature... 🫣👀

────୨ৎ──── ended insanely abruptly but i wanted to post something for u guys today😭

────୨ৎ────

────୨ৎ────

[woso-dreamzzz]

Run, Run, Run

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Summary: You have to run

TW: toxic relationship, cheating, attempts at manipulation

You'd always been a runner.

Literally and now figuratively.

You were a sprinter mainly.

Two-hundred metres was your sweet spot but you could compete in one-hundred and four-hundred metres comfortably too.

But two-hundred was what got you interested in athletics, what showed you at your best, the event that made you one of the lucky ones.

One of the ones that didn't need another job.

Brand deals and sponsorships and everything you could have ever dreamed of came flooding in.

You could dedicate your time to just running.

Running, running, running.

Feet pounding on concrete.

Running, running, running.

An Olympic gold had always been in your grasp in your head. It was something you had only dreamed about. An errant pipe dream that you'd told your parents as a kid and they'd done that dismissive kind of agreement that all parents did when their child's hopes and dreams were a once in a lifetime kind of thing.

The 'oh, that's nice, sweetie, now finish your veggies' kind of dismissal.

Running was your lifeblood.

It always had been.

It always will be.

Even as you wait at the airport with your Olympic gold weighing down your bag.

Two bronzes and a gold was a triumph for your first Olympics.

You'd made your mark.

It was meant to be the greatest moment of your life.

The commentators had joked that it looked like something was chasing you, like you you were running from them.

They were kind of right.

You ran like something was after you, getting closer and closer.

It was only when you feel to your knees, the winner of the two-hundred metres, that it caught up.

Sweet, brutal acceptance.

Alexia was cheating on you.

She was sleeping with Jenni again.

You should have known it was going to happen.

You were younger than her, almost ten years younger. Of course, she would want to go back to her ex. Her older, more worldly, more put together ex.

The one that she could relate to more. The one that she had played with for years. The one that she could build a life with.

You had hoped that could have been you.

But clearly not.

Alexia was cheating on you, had been cheating on you since who knows when.

It could have been ever since the beginning. It could have been during the World Cup or just after it. It could have been just at the Olympics.

It didn't matter when it started though.

It happened and now you had to deal with the fall out.

And you were dealing it with the only way you knew how.

By running.

Fleeing the country.

There was a coach in England that was happy to work with you and moving to Manchester truly didn't feel as daunting as it should have.

"Stop calling me," You say," Just...stop..." You're so defeated. So done with this.

You wish you had the strength to just block and delete her number but every time you tried, all you could do was stare at the profile picture.

You in Alexia's arms, her lips pressed against your cheek.

"Baby," Alexia coos, her voice sweet saccharine that goes right through you," Amor...Mi vida-"

"Alexia, don't." You could feel your conviction wavering just by the sound of her voice.

"I don't actually love her," Alexia continues," She was only because I missed you. I want you. You're going to be my wife, remember?"

"Ale...please, don't make this more difficult than it needs to be."

"Mi vida, you're being so silly. Come home. Let's talk."

"No...I-I don't want to."

An edge of tension strung through her voice and you close your eyes tightly.

"Where are you? I'll pick you up. We'll go to dinner and I'll show you how much I love you. What about the baby you wanted? Let's make make a baby, amor."

"Alexia-"

"No," Alexia interrupts," I'm coming to get you. Send me your loc-"

"Attention all passengers, the seven-thirty flight to Manchester, England with British Airways is now inviting our business class passengers to board."

You can hear Alexia suck in a breath. "Are you at the airport?"

You don't respond but you know she can hear movement on your end of the line as you gather up your hastily packed luggage.

"Are you at the airport?!" She asks again.

Again, you don't answer.

"Amor," Her voice goes sweet," Don't get on that flight. Come home to me. Let's talk."

"I'm sorry, Alexia," You say," I wish you the best but I just can't do this."

"Don't-Don't hang up! Don't you dare-"

You turn off your phone as you step onto the plane.

Running has always come easy.

It's not really like you're taking the coward's way out.

You're running to save yourself because Alexia will ruin you if you go back to her.

She will break you apart, wear you down with sweet promises and soft touches.

Then she'll go back to camp and cheat on you again.

You're running to save yourself the heartbreak.

[punkshort]

Welcome to Shortie's Joel Miller masterlist! Below is a mix of pre and post outbreak stories, most are 18+. Thank you for reading❤️

The Way We Were [complete]: You worked for Joel and Tommy a few months before the outbreak. When the outbreak happens, you and Joel get stuck traveling the country and keeping each other safe. Neither of you spoke about the feelings you had for one another pre-outbreak, and in a post-apocalyptic world, it seems like survival should be your only focus. But feelings can't be ignored forever.

Look What We've Become [complete - sequel to TWWW]: You are tasked with taking a young girl back to her family while trying to salvage your relationship with Joel after certain events cause the biggest strain either of you have ever had to face.

I'll Be Home for Christmas [on-going]: Having just caught your fiancé cheating on you, you decide to come back home from the big city to Austin for the month of December to try to figure out your next step. You had no idea you would be getting more than you bargained for with the handsome single dad who built your parents' house.

Somewhere to Run [complete]: You move to a small town in the middle of Texas to escape your past and start over. You don't expect to fall for the town's handsome sheriff.

I Know Who You Are [complete]: A fall on patrol causes you to lose your long term memory, forgetting the identities of your friends and loved ones. You have to learn all over again how to survive in a post-apocalyptic world, and you learn things about yourself along the way.

Roommates [complete]: Your roommate, Maria, introduces you to her boyfriend's brother. You hit it off immediately, but when you find out the true nature of his profession, you both decide to remain just friends. But once the four of you eventually move in together, things get... complicated.

Swept Away [complete]: Detached, closed off, and hardened by failed relationships (romantic and otherwise), hotel mogul Joel Miller is looking to expand his empire to an exclusive tropical island off the coast of Fiji. The problem is, he's not the only one looking to stake his claim in the tropics. The owner of the island, a family man first and foremost, invites all the bidders to the island for a month long retreat to help him decide which mogul will be crowned the winner. And to make himself look more appealing, Joel hires you to accompany him as his significant other. But it's strictly business... right?

Swept Away: Season Two [coming soon]: Your return to the island for the grand opening of The Parador: Fiji holds even more drama than the first visit. Desire, love, heartbreak, mystery, and luxury await your stay.

Evergreen [complete]: Two unlikely strangers meet and bond over a shared trauma. But what happens when the lines unexpectedly blur and they're both overcome with guilt? Will they allow themselves to love again, or will they choose to drown in their grief?

All the Little Things [coming soon]: Helping your next door neighbor one evening by watching his little girl was all it was ever supposed to be. However, that very same night, he catches his wife cheating on him, and with no one else to confide in, you end up forging a friendship throughout his messy divorce. Eventually, the lines of your relationship blur and it has you wondering if your life will ever be the same.

I hate when you're right: After a heated argument with Joel, you finally convince him to leave Jackson so you could explore a store for new clothes, and what happens could change your life forever.

Have a Good Night: Every week like clockwork, the same devastatingly handsome man comes into the grocery store where you work to buy flowers. It's not until he asks you out when you realize the flowers aren't for his wife or girlfriend.

Night Shift: It was a relatively quiet night in the emergency room until a handsome contractor gets admitted and adds some excitement to your life.

Hard to Handle: One year after Joel cheats on you and gets someone else pregnant, you run into him for the first time.

Five Senses: You catch Joel sneaking off to do something in the middle of the night and curiosity gets the best of you.

A Deeper Purpose: Living in Jackson during the apocalypse doesn't do anything to curb your desire to have a child. The problem is, most of the men in town are unavailable... except for one.

-> Love at First Sight: Joel helps you through your delivery.

-> A Deeper Meaning: Now that your daughter is born, Joel is itching for another but you are still feeling a little discouraged with the way your body looks. He quickly puts an end to those feelings.

Come Fly with Me: You and Joel have fun in the cockpit.

Something Unexpected: It's been ten years since you lived in Texas, and of course the first week back, you run into a familiar face from your past.

First Impressions: When your heater breaks in the dead of winter, you get more than you bargained for when Joel Miller arrives to fix it.

Flinched: The day after Sarah died, he flinched.

Palm Trees: Sometimes love can be found unexpectedly in the aisle of Home Depot's Christmas displays.

A Christmas Miracle: Years of tension after a failed hook-up attempt with Joel boil over at your office Christmas party, but not in the way you expect.

Sweater Weather: A famous popstar's Christmas Eve concert brings an unexpected love into your life.

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Imperfect Couple - 6

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Warning: The couple's arguments could be triggering.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8 , Chapter 9 , Chapter 10 , Chapter 11 , Chapter 12 , Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

“How long have you known him?” Bucky’s voice was calm, but his eyes were sharp, watching every reaction.

“Five years,” you answered, keeping your tone steady. You didn’t want him to pick up on any hint of tension.

Bucky frowned, a strange sense of familiarity tugging at him. Ian seemed like a typical journalist, but something else about him gnawed at Bucky's instincts.

He rarely interacted with foreign reporters, so why did Ian’s presence feel… off? He was sure he'd figure out why this feeling wouldn't leave him.

Before either of you could say more, Greg appeared, clipboard in hand, and gave you both a pointed look. “Alright, you two, time to get ready. The event’s about to start. Let’s make sure everything runs smoothly.”

You nodded, feeling the butterflies in your stomach begin to stir. You’d been on stages before, but not like this. Not with Bucky, not under the gaze of an entire country.

Bucky noticed your hesitation and moved closer, placing a firm hand on your lower back. “It’s going to be fine,” he whispered, his voice low and reassuring. “I’ve got you.”

You looked up at him, trying to read his eyes. Was he just saying that for the cameras? Or was there something deeper there? It was getting harder to tell. You nodded anyway, more for yourself than for him, and straightened up. You had to play your part, just as you always did.

At the Convention

The large venue buzzed with excitement, lights shining down on the stage like spotlights in an arena. When Steve Rogers walked up to the podium, the room went silent, all eyes on him. He was the golden candidate—charismatic, confident, the embodiment of what the people wanted.

The room buzzed with anticipation as Steve Rogers approached the podium, every eye in the venue locked onto him. He stood tall, his presence commanding, radiating the quiet strength he was known for. After a brief moment, he began speaking, his voice steady but filled with passion.

"Ladies and gentlemen, fellow Americans," Steve’s voice echoed with gravitas, "Today, we stand at the threshold of a new era. We face challenges that require not just strong leadership, but leadership rooted in integrity, honor, and the unyielding belief in the power of the people."

The crowd quieted further, hanging on his every word.

"For too long, we’ve watched division grow. But I believe in the strength of unity, the strength of standing together—one nation, bound by a shared responsibility to protect our freedom, our families, and our future. And I pledge to lead with the same unwavering commitment that I’ve given to this country my entire life."

He took a brief pause, allowing his words to sink in, then continued, his tone growing more impassioned.

"I am not just here as a candidate, but as a father, a husband, and a son," he said, gesturing toward his wife, Peggy, and their children standing nearby, his parents behind them. "I want a better world for my family—just as I want a better world for yours. A world where opportunity isn’t reserved for the few but shared by the many. A world where every child grows up in safety, with access to education, health, and the opportunity to pursue their dreams."

The applause began to rise, but Steve held his hand up gently, signaling for quiet once more.

"This is not just my campaign. This is our campaign. Together, we will fight for a future that respects the dignity of every individual. We will build an America where justice is not selective but a right for all. Where leadership is about service—not power."

His voice crescendoed, igniting the room.

"Because I believe in us. I believe in the promise of America, and I believe in the strength of the American people. Together, we will rise to meet the challenges of today, and together, we will create a brighter, fairer, and stronger tomorrow."

The room erupted into thunderous applause as Steve’s words settled over the crowd. He stepped back, waving, as Peggy and their children joined him at the front of the stage, a living testament to the family values he championed.

With that, Steve Rogers sealed the moment—an electrifying speech that echoed far beyond the walls of the convention hall.

The crowd erupted into applause as Steve stepped aside, making way for Bucky.

Now it was his turn.

You watched as Bucky walked to the podium with the practiced ease of a man who was born for this. His dark suit was perfectly tailored, the overhead lights catching the sharp angles of his face. As soon as he began speaking, the room hushed again.

“I want to thank everyone for being here today,” Bucky started, his voice strong, yet warm. “Serving alongside Steve has been the honor of my life, and I am proud to stand here as the candidate for Vice President. My family—my parents Julius and Caroline, my siblings Shawn and Hazel, my nephew Nate, and my brother-in-law Tim—are with me today.” He motioned to the side, where they all stood. Caroline’s expression was as rigid as ever, while Julius offered a rare smile.

Then Bucky’s eyes found you.

“And of course, my wife. She’s been my rock. She’s stood by me through the hardest times, and I can’t imagine being here without her.” His voice softened, but the sincerity in his words cut through the noise in your head.

You smiled on cue, the kind of smile you’d perfected over years of practice. But inside, everything felt muddled. Bucky spoke as though you were his whole world, but you knew the truth. This was a performance. A calculated move to protect his image.

The applause was thunderous, but it sounded far away as you fought the emotions swirling inside you. Bucky looked the part—strong, dependable, built for this kind of role. He was doing everything right.

But you? You were pretending. The smile you wore for the cameras wasn’t for him; it was for the part of you that wanted to see Caroline suffer, to see her envy every look Bucky gave you on that stage. But underneath the spite, you felt something deeper, something far more complicated.

'Can I really keep doing this?' The question lodged itself in your mind as the applause rang out again.

You watched Bucky continue his speech, looking every bit the man of the moment. He thrived in this atmosphere, while you felt like you were drowning in a sea of lies. Every glance from the audience, every flash from the cameras, reminded you that none of this was real.

When he finished, the room erupted in applause again. Bucky turned to you, offering his hand. The warmth of his palm against yours was meant to be reassuring, but it only deepened your confusion.

As you both exited the stage, his grip tightened slightly, just enough for you to notice. He leaned down, voice low in your ear. “You did great,” he whispered. His words were laced with a strange tenderness that made your stomach flip.

You nodded, but deep down, the weight of this act was crushing you.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

As the convention wrapped up and the crowd began to disperse, you and Bucky maneuvered Tim’s wheelchair carefully. The excitement of the day was still buzzing in the air, but you could sense the underlying tension between Bucky and Ian as Ian approached you and Tim.

Ian greeted you with a friendly smile. “Hey, I’m working on a piece about the election from the perspective of the candidates’ families. What’s it like for you and your family during all this?”

Bucky, standing beside you, made a subtle move to place himself between you and Ian, a protective gesture that didn't go unnoticed. “I’m not sure if that’s appropriate,” Bucky began, but Tim cut him off.

“Of course! I’ve never been interviewed before. It’ll be good to share my side,” Tim said eagerly, his eyes bright with enthusiasm.

Bucky looked at Tim, then at you, his frustration evident in the tightness of his jaw. He sighed and stepped aside, unable to argue with Tim’s excitement or your reluctance to refuse a friend’s request.

Ian turned to you, his expression curious. “You never mentioned your brother before. It’s clear you two have a strong bond.”

“She’s a private person,” Tim interjected with a hint of pride.

Ian raised an eyebrow, glancing back at you. “You really seem to know her well.”

“We may not always show it, but we’re very close. She’s been like a second mother to me, especially after I lost my leg,” Tim said, his voice carrying an unusual warmth.

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks at the unexpected praise from your brother. It was rare to hear him speak so openly about his feelings.

Ian smiled as he jotted down notes. “This story is going to resonate with a lot of people.”

After a while, Tim excused himself, leaving you and Ian alone. Ian’s demeanor shifted subtly, becoming more serious.

“Thanks for giving him the chance to speak,” you said with a slight edge. “You know, it feels like you just handed him a chance to embarrass me.”

Ian chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with a hint of mischief. “Isn’t that what siblings do? Cherish these moments of difference before it’s too late.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean,-?”

Before you could ask, Ian pulled you aside, his face set with determination. “I heard there’s a divorce in your marriage.”

You stiffened, your eyes widening in surprise. “How did you find out?”

Ian’s smirk was almost smug. “Don’t underestimate my skills. You vanished, then reappeared, acting like everything’s perfect. I pieced it together from the campaign.”

He leaned closer, his frustration evident. “Not once did you mention him. And now, suddenly, you’re playing the loving wife. It’s irritating.”

You crossed your arms, feeling a wave of anger and discomfort. “Are you planning to use this information?”

Ian’s expression softened, though his eyes were intense. “I don’t know yet. But a few people already know.”

You flinched at his words, a shiver running down your spine.

Ian’s voice dropped to a reassuring whisper. “Don’t worry. They’ve only heard rumors. No one has solid evidence. I could protect you. Because you deserve someone better.”

You gulped, unable to speak. Ian’s concern seemed genuine, but you couldn’t shake off the pain from your marriage with Bucky. Your emotions were still tangled, and you didn’t want to get involved with Ian’s feelings, especially now.

You glanced up and saw Bucky watching you from across the room. His eyes were locked on you, his gaze sharp and intense. It felt like he was assessing every movement, every word. The tension in his stare made your heart race, and you could almost feel his frustration and jealousy from afar.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

As the car sped through the night, the backseat felt increasingly cramped, the air thick with unspoken tension. You stared out the window, trying to avoid Bucky’s piercing gaze. The city lights flickered past, a blur of neon and shadows, as you stewed over the conversation with Ian and the unresolved questions it left.

Bucky's silence was more oppressive than any words. His jaw was set tight, and the muscles in his neck were rigid. When he finally spoke, his voice was cold, laced with an edge of command. “Don’t meet Ian anymore.”

You continued to look out the window, your reflection a ghostly image against the darkened glass. “He knew about the divorce,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky’s breath hitched, his grip on the seat tightening. He was silent for a moment, the weight of your revelation settling in. Then, unexpectedly, he chuckled, a dark, humorless sound. “Well, that means I’m on the right track. Every politician has skeletons in their closet.”

You turned your head sharply to face him, eyes narrowing. “You’re not afraid if the rumor leaks out?”

Bucky’s gaze remained steady, but his jaw tightened slightly. “I’m not gonna lie, I am afraid. But I’m more worried about how it’ll affect you.” He paused “But look at the bright side. It narrows down the list of people who knew about our marriage.”

You turned to him, eyes narrowing in frustration. “You’re playing with fire, Bucky.”

He leaned closer, the space between you shrinking rapidly. His expression softened into a smirk, but his eyes held a dangerous glint. “I’ll win this for you. I still remember that moment when you wished me to win, just to spite my mother. I need that brave Y/N.”

You could feel the heat from his body, his breath mingling with yours as he drew nearer. The car’s dim lighting accentuated the intensity in his eyes, a smoldering gaze that made your pulse quicken. “Don’t make this about me,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

Bucky’s smirk deepened, and he moved even closer, his face inches from yours. “But babe, this is all for you,” he murmured, his voice a low, seductive growl.

His proximity was overwhelming, and you could feel the heat radiating from his body. You swallowed hard, the line between anger and something else entirely blurring as his lips almost brushed against yours.

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you were caught between the anger at his manipulation and the undeniable pull of the unresolved feelings you still harbored for him. The confined space of the car seemed to shrink around you, the air charged with a mix of frustration and unspoken desire.

Bucky’s gaze locked onto yours, his smirk fading into an expression of intense focus. His hand reached out, fingertips grazing your cheek in a feather-light touch that made your skin tingle. “I need you to trust me,” he said softly, his voice carrying an almost desperate edge.

You hated him for the pain he’d caused, but his touch betrayed your emotions, making it hard to stay firm. And he knew it. You wanted to wipe that smug look off his face.only the charged, almost unbearable closeness between you.

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[takamiwife]

keigo as a daddy 🐣

not that kind of daddy, everyone get ur minds out of the gutters (same)

ANYWAYYY

- keigo had always thought about having kids of course, but reality always hit him quick. he was too busy, and his life was far too dangerous for a partner, let alone a child

- then he met you

- so one became two, and he was happy. truly happy for the first time since he could remember. but guilt and fear wracked him everyday. what if someone came after you? what if, god forbid, he died while on the job, leaving you alone? he couldn’t bear the thought. he dreamed of retiring, taking you, all his money, and buying a big, beautiful house out in the country where you’d grow old together with lots of kids and grandbabies.

- but it was just a fleeting thought. reality always hit. it wouldn’t be fair to anyone for him to have kids

- and then the war came

- and everything changed

- for a while, it seemed like things had changed for the worse

- but things got stable

- things got better

- heroes weren’t needed as much

- the day keigo took his position of president of the hero commission, he proposed to you

- he did it in front of nearly all of japan on live tv. not for his ego, not to get attention or fame, but because he wanted everyone to know how much he adored you

- his life was changing, and he wanted you to be in the rest of the chapters of it

- the two of you quickly settled in to married life. it was just as romantic and passionate as it had been when the two of you were dating; and better yet, you got to spend more time together with keigos new job

- of course he had you quit your job as soon as you got married, and you didn’t mind. you spent your days filled with philanthropy and finding ways to fulfill yourself and your community

- after being two for so long, imagine your surprise when one little stick told you that you’d be becoming three

- things were finally normal, finally stable, especially for keigo. you knew he’d be thrilled. he had always talked about having little ones, but the two of you figured it’d be a “if it happens, it happens” kind of deal

- and you were right, he was thrilled

- the man nearly burst into tears when he opened the small box at the dinner table containing an ultrasound and a onesie

- immediately he began looking at homes outside of the city. “this apartment isn’t big enough for a baby” (it was, but you weren’t going to tell him that)

- the man pampered you throughout your whole pregnancy. he was at every doctors appointment, got your every craving no matter the time of day or night, and made sure you never lifted a finger, especially during your move (much to your chagrin)

- though he hired movers and decorators, he designed and built everything in the nursery

- when he found out you were having a girl, he was even happier. tell me that man isn’t meant to be a girl dad, like cmon

- yea he cried when the baby was born. multiple times. she looks just like you, after all!

- not once did he make you get up to check on the baby at night. he would always do it. he adored her from the moment he laid eyes on her. he was going to be different than his parents. he was going to be better.

- one night, at nearly 2 am, you woke up, and when you went down the hallway, you saw him sitting beside the crib, gently stroking the little hair atop her head. you never told him you saw it

- keigo shows his two favorite girls in the world off wherever he goes. pictures of you and the baby are all over his office, and it’s a rarity to see him in public without you and the baby by his side

- as the baby grows, he only continues to spoil her, giving her all the love and affection he never received. he wasn’t certain of everything, but he knew that she would never question where her next meal was coming from, or ever doubt if she was loved

- her toys would be scattered across his office, he loves bringing her to work

- you two are double trouble for keigo. he can barely say no to you, let alone her. that man’s salary gets put to use, trust me

- bum ass dad? never heard of it. keigo is there for every possible event, from doctors appointments to recitals. he’s there.

- and don’t think he’s forgotten about you. that man lets you know how much he utterly adores you everyday. not just because you made him a father. no, because before all of that, you made him feel loved, and he could never repay you for what you’ve done for him

[samkerrworshipper]

replaced

sam kerr x sister!reader

um i wrote a fic? sorry for the chelsea fans but i simply couldnt make this solely chelsea. glad that i could please the SK fans tho yall are patient and queens! hope you all enjoy and lmk what else you might want to see in the future 👀 love you all!

warnings: none? that i’m aware of !

There was something completely all-consuming about the thought of a tiny alien growing inside of a body. It made you uncomfortable, thinking about a tiny human with a deformed body and underdeveloped everything just existing inside of a person. To put it lightly, it freaked you out. It was possibly the best birth control for a 16-year-old seeing firsthand what it looked like when a baby kicked or hearing the sounds of first-trimester morning sickness. You’d made it very clear to your sister that yes, whilst you were willing to babysit once the deformed fetus entered the world and was slightly less deformed, you would take some responsibilities. You wanted nothing to do with it until it made its grand entrance into the world. 

That didn’t change the fact that yours, your sister’s, and your sister’s fiancé’s lives had very quickly come to revolve solely around your future niece or nephew in a very short amount of time. Normally, it wouldn’t bother you in the slightest. If anything, you were usually doing anything and everything to get Sam and Kristie to leave you alone, but there was something different about their attention completely revolving around the life that the two of them were building together. 

It hadn’t mattered truly when they’d missed your parent-teacher interviews for an anatomy scan or missed your first training with the senior Chelsea team because Kristie had woken up with such bad morning sickness that she hadn’t been able to leave the bathroom for hours, or when you’d had to walk 3 miles from school to the training grounds because your sister had been up so late trying to make Kristie comfortable enough to sleep that she’d completely forgotten that she was supposed to pick you up early on a Thursday so you didn’t miss training. 

None of it mattered individually, but altogether, it made a difference. 

It had been a big decision moving halfway across the world to live with your sister at 15. You were a good football player, you weren’t anywhere near the prodigy of your sister, but if you wanted to make strides in your career, it was the best decision to move to London to play in the academy. It didn’t make the decision any easier; you were moving in with your sister that you’d essentially not known for most of your childhood. Too wrapped up in her own career in other countries to spend any time with you. Yet the moment it had even been an option, she was ecstatic at the idea of you joining her in London, taking you under her wing, and truly welcoming you into the tight-knit family that Kristie and her had built in London. 

It was good, it was so good. You had made advancements in your football that you didn’t think were possible; school was good, and for once in your life, you felt like you were actually in a place where you were fully understood and at peace. 

It had been perfect, until Sam had torn her ACL a couple of months into your stay, and then things had gone downhill. It wasn’t anything you couldn’t deal with; in terms of the footballing aspect of your life, it was definitely tough. You didn’t have your training buddy or your person to help you settle into the club that still kind of terrified you. On the flip side, you got to spend a whole lot more one-on-one time with your sister, and her girlfriend was there to cater to all of your football needs. After the initial impacts of her surgery, life had mostly gone back to normal; sure, your sister wasn’t there physically on the pitch with you, but she was there to support you in every other way. 

Then, the idea of a baby had been mentioned. 

It wasn’t alarm bells from the beginning. At first, it had mostly seemed like an idea for the future, not near future. Of course, they wanted to start a family, and of course, you wanted that for them. It just hadn’t been made clear to you that it was a plan for the present. Until you’d been sitting on the couch on a movie night, and a gift bag had been thrust into your hands. The both of them had the goofiest smiles on their faces that you’d known that something had been up. You just hadn’t expected a positive pregnancy test to be the source of the excitement. 

Initially, not much had changed. The pregnancy was so early on that the biggest worry was an early miscarriage and making sure that the three of you didn’t let the information slip too early. 

It had been completely fine. Life had kept on moving, until the symptoms had started. 

First, it was a bit of exhaustion, then some vomiting, headaches, nausea, more vomiting, migraines, insomnia, every possible pregnancy symptom you could think of. Kristie was afflicted by every possible pregnancy symptom. 

You felt bad. Here, two of your favourite people were trying to start a family, and it was starting off as hell. 

Then the feelings of sympathy had very quickly turned into resentment and then into isolation. 

You resented the fact that you didn’t feel at home anymore. There was nothing homey about the situation you were living in. You felt like in a number of fleeting weeks you had gone from feeling on top of the world to feeling like you no longer belonged in the life that you’d so recently settled into. 

It was a rough realisation to come to that you were no longer wanted, that you were being replaced. 

It was a slow process, but it was easy to figure out when you were and weren’t wanted, and in the picture-perfect future life of your sister and her fiancé, it was clear that you weren’t. 

You were 17, you were on the cusp of being an adult, you just hadn’t expected to be thrust into your independent adulthood so early on. A shiny new baby was going to replace you, and once that happened you were going to be even more unwanted than you already felt before it was introduced to the world. 

Whilst you knew that your mood was being affected by the neglect you were suffering, it was all too easy to blame it on the exams you were going through for your last year of school, or the slight injury setbacks that were keeping you from your first minutes for the blues, or the fact that you were a teenager with fluctuating moods. You didn’t expect your slightly off interactions or slightly less happy demeanor to be a warning sign for anybody, specifically the people closest to you. Your performance on the training pitch had been as good as usual, you’d been saying all the right things, acting in all the right ways even though you actively felt like a stranger in the apartment and life you’d once felt like was home. 

You’d managed to allude to all of the people closest to you, it just hadn’t occurred to you that people on the outside would notice your slightly off behaviour. 

Lucy was one person at the club who was newer than you, even though you didn’t necessarily fit in with all the older girls due to the age disparity it was common knowledge that you were an extension of your sister, people who were friends with Sam were friends of yours. It was a little bit embarrassing that in hindsight most of the people were only friends with you as a result of your last name but it was easier to just accept it. 

Lucy was one person that wasn’t particularly close with your sister, on no means were they enemies, they just didn’t hang out with the same people. If Sam and her didn’t interact on the regular then neither did you, that was just how it worked. 

It’s why you’d been a little bit surprised when she’d asked you to be her spotting partner in the gym. A few sets in, though, it had become abundantly clear that Lucy had ulterior motives. 

“So what does a kid like you do nowadays to have a little bit of fun, uh?”

You weren’t sure if spotting for Lucy was much help at all. There was absolutely zero possibility that if she failed, you were going to be able to lift the weight that she was pressing. The ease with which she did it all was shocking and enough of a focus for you. 

“Play soccer for one of the best teams in England.”

Lucy laughs, even though all you’re doing is being honest. Between school, football, and trying to live up to the expectations of your sister, you don’t have time for ‘fun’.

“It must be hard, having so much pressure on you, so young?”

You shake your head. You don’t think of it that way. Pressure is privilege. That’s what your mom had taught you, and then your brother, and now your sister. Pressure is what had made you good enough to be where you were. 

“It’s more pressure trying to decide what to have for breakfast in the morning than coming here every day.”

Lucy finishes her set and sits up, looking at you in a way that makes you feel like you have to ask. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Her tongue pushes against the inside of her cheek, and you get the feeling that you’re going to be told something you don’t want to hear. 

“You’ve been acting differently lately, spacey, less present. I’m just wondering if there is any particular reason.”

You focus on switching the weights from Lucy’s bar to yours and lying down on the bench she’d previously occupied. 

“I don’t know what would give you that impression.”

You focus on your set, and Lucy uses it as an excuse to stare at you in the exact same way she had been all morning. 

“You look like a kicked puppy all the time. You’re less happy, less comfortable. You look like you’re on edge all the time.”

It’s a list of traits that probably suit you. You’ll admit that you’ve been less than enthusiastic in recent times, but you hadn't thought it had been extremely noticeable. Sam hadn’t noticed, not that she noticed much about you anymore. 

“Didn’t realise you were so focused on the team protege, Bronzey.”

Like Sam, you were a pro in humorous deflection, yet when you spoke it came off with an unfamiliar edge that made you uncomfortable. 

“I’m worried about one of my teammates and friends because they’re exhibiting behaviours that are unfamiliar for them and no one else seems to be noticing.”

You finish your set and focus on drinking from your water bottle and not making too much eye contact with Lucy. 

“Lot of big words coming from you, Luce.”

Lucy’s determination doesn’t fade. She looks at you the same way. 

“So it’s not football. I’m going to make an educated guess that it’s not school. You’re going to be an aunt and you’ve got a good family situation. What is it?”

You must flinch, even if you don’t feel it. You must because Lucy’s eyes light up. 

“So it’s Kerr household issues then?”

You focus on finishing your set again. You focus on the feeling of your arms pushing and relaxing, the feeling of all your muscles stretching and slackening. 

“You know you can talk to me about it. I might not have the best advice, but I won’t judge you or go and tell your sister about it or anything.”

You finish the set, and all that’s on your mind is that you have one more to go. One more and you can remove yourself from whatever this awkward conversation is and go and hide in some other corner like normal. 

“I don’t know what makes you think it’s any of your business.”

You’re three reps in, nowhere near failure, yet on the next one, Lucy takes over and pulls the bar up and onto the rack. 

Before you can have a go at her, she sits down next to you on the bench, and for whatever reason, puts an arm around your shoulder. It makes you incredibly uncomfortable, and you flinch away almost immediately, but Lucy doesn’t shy away. 

“Look, whether it’s from a teammate to another teammate, or a friend to a friend, or whatever you feel most comfortable calling it. You don’t seem like you’re doing okay. If I can tell, it’s not going to be long before other people figure it out. I don’t really know you properly, but you seem like a good kid. You also don’t seem like the kind of person who likes to be vulnerable in front of people you don’t trust. If you don’t let go of whatever has clearly been bothering you, then that’s probably the inevitable if you don’t talk to somebody about it or get it off your chest. That person by no means has to be me or anyone else here. Just think about it, okay? You’re not alone. I can’t imagine how hard it would be playing here and everyone constantly making you feel like you were in your sister’s shadow. You aren’t just your sister, though. People around here like you beyond that, and they’re here to support you beyond that. You aren’t your last name.”

You’d be a liar if you said that Lucy’s words didn’t hit you a little bit, but you didn’t let her see that. You shook her arm off you and rolled your eyes. 

“You have no fucking clue what it’s like to be me. Don’t try and make it out like you understand.”

Before she could say anything else that remotely played on your heartstrings, you walked away, dragging your drink bottle and gear off to the other side of the gym and settling into whatever exercises for your ankle strength. 

You didn’t like to admit it, but what Lucy said to you resonated with you for the rest of the day. It had you in your head, thinking about it over and over again. You were second-guessing everything, and it translated out onto the pitch. In training, you were sloppy, to the point of nearly injuring yourself due to a lack of awareness. If you were trying to prove that you were over your setbacks, then it was a clear testament to the opposite. You were evidently a shit show. It was what was expected of you. You were a teenager. You were expected to crash out, to not be able to live up to the constant expectations of being a professional every day. You were falling into the one stereotype that you spent every minute of every day trying to claw away from. Already consumed by the reality of your stupifying family situation and adding on self-doubt about your every action was a whole new mind game that you’d never truly experienced. 

There was one part about what Lucy had said that had stuck with you the most. If you didn’t get it off your chest soon, it was inevitable that you were going to let it slip in far worse ways, and that was a slippery slope you had no intention of going down. 

It wasn’t surprising that your sister wasn’t there to pick you up after training had finished. There was a slew of excuses that trumped you. You were used to being forgotten. As the reality of new life being brought into the Kerr household became more real, it only felt like you were fading further. 

You didn’t want to go home, not to a place where you actively felt like an impostor. You didn’t have many people to lean on, though. As much as Lucy tried to make it out like you were an individual person at Chelsea, you weren’t. You were Sam Kerr’s younger sister, the baby of the family, the nepotism sister, riding on your sister’s success and reaping whatever benefits came from it. You were a complete result of your sister, stuck in a never-ending cycle of following her footsteps. 

In Australia, you’d had individuality, your parents’ sole focus. Your football wasn’t as good, but you hadn’t questioned your existence or how you fitted into spaces. Yet in England, or with your sister, you had to second-guess everything, were forced to feel like you didn’t belong anywhere. 

You didn’t want to go home. 

There weren’t a lot of people in London you could call. A couple of months ago, Kristie was your go-to person for when your sister was tied up with her stuff, but with the baby on the way, Kristie’s sole focus had been shifted. You didn’t matter in comparison. Sam’s friends were like family, but they weren’t your family; they were people that had to like you because you lived with Sam and were with her all the time. You hadn’t made many friends at Chelsea; it didn’t seem important in retrospect. It left you with a handful of people. You could always call your mum or someone else in the family, but it seemed pointless in that there would be no outcome. So you called the only person that was really left. 

It had been a long shot; St Albans wasn’t exactly in close proximity to Cobham, but you felt like you were at a crossroads. 

You’d had to wait outside in the cold for a while, but it wasn’t awfully long until Caitlin pulled up in front of the training grounds. Before you could second-guess your decision-making, you got into her car, buckling your seatbelt before looking at her. 

“Just drive, I’ll exp   n later.”

Caitlin got the message and pulled her car into drive before heading back onto the highway. 

“Where we going? Yours? Mine? An airport?”

It was hard not to laugh at the predicament. 

“Just yours.”

The rest of the car ride was silent; it was good, it was hard for you to slot every feeling into place, but it was good to think about it all. You felt like a whirlwind of feelings, a big spiral of never-ending emotions that were completely nonsensical. 

By the time you get to Caitlin’s house, not much was making any more sense, but you felt less panicked. You walked from the car into her house in the same silence that had stretched between the two of you the whole car trip. In through the front door, into the kitchen, and sat down at the island when Caitlin pointed at one of the seats. You felt like you were cemented to the seat, all of the weight of the day, or really the last few weeks, was weighing you down like there were rocks stuffed in your pockets. You felt heavy, filled with all of the uncertainties. 

Caitlin pushed a glass of water towards you, and you took it gratefully. 

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

You’d been around Caitlin practically since birth. As a kid growing up, you hadn’t wanted to be around your sister; it had always been her best friend that had lit up your face. She was your sister’s best friend, but in every way, she was a sister to you; you’d spent every moment of your childhood following the two around and every waking moment with them when they were around. 

“I can’t just spend an afternoon with my favourite auntie?”

Caitlin rolled her eyes, reaching over the table to ruffle your hair. 

“Of course, you can, dickhead, but that doesn’t mean that you are. Something’s up, and if you called me, then that means you want to talk about it because it has something to do with Sam.”

Were you really that easy to read? First, Lucy, and now Caitlin. You were beginning to doubt your abilities to keep all of your cards to your chest. 

“That’s some creepy shit; you should become some mindreader.”

Caitlin rolled her eyes at you. 

“Tell me about it; I can’t do anything in this house without her sniffing it out.”

You turned your head to see Katie standing in the doorway of the kitchen, smiling at you, but mostly at Caitlin. 

“Ya didn’t tell me mini kerr was coming over.”

You tried to stop the way your face flinched at the sound of your last name. You didn’t know why in recent times it had begun to bother you so much. It was just so synonymous with your sister. Every time you heard it or saw it on your jersey, it was a clear sign of the one thing you were becoming most afraid of. You weren’t living up to it or living the life of it. 

“Just wanted to spend some time with my favourite derby losers.”

Katie’s reaction is visceral. Her face moves into something of pure disgust. 

“That kind of slander is just not acceptable in this house. You want to embrace your Chel-shit culture? Keep it away from our house. We’re going to have to sage the bad vibes away now. Do a full cleanse.”

At a point in your life, you’d never felt less Chelsea than you did right now. The thought of the club put you on the brink of dissociation. 

“Katie, can you please go get some pasta? We’re all out, and I’m making bolognese for dinner.”

It was a cue. You were sure of it because as soon as the words left Caitlin’s mouth, Katie was nodding dutifully and off and out of sight. 

“Are you going to tell me what’s up or keep dodging around it?”

With your lip between your teeth and so much uncertainty, you nodded. There wasn’t much point in keeping it all in when you’d come here with the inadvertent intention to offload some of it. 

“Sam doesn’t want anything to do with me. When I got here, it was hard. We made it work, and she tried to make me fit in with her life as it was, but it never quite felt right. But with the baby now, there’s no pretending. I’m not a part of her life, and she doesn’t want to pretend that I am anymore. And I’m sick of waiting in the background, hoping she’ll get her shit together and remember that I’m part of her life. She doesn’t care about me, and I can’t handle it anymore.”

Caitlin’s expressions are schooled. They are most of the time, but she doesn’t give anything at all away. 

“Your sister loves you a lot. I’m not invalidating what you’re feeling. I am sure that you’re right. She loves you though. Before you came here, all she ever talked about was wanting to spend more time with you, going back to see you, Facetiming you.”

You shake your head. You didn’t come here to be told that you’re loved. You came here to feel a little bit less chained down. 

“No, she doesn’t, or she doesn’t show it remotely. She doesn’t pick me up from school. She forgets me or stopped caring because she’s busy looking after Kristie or busy being worried about the baby, stressing about the baby. It’s all they talk about. It’s all they care about. It’s the shiny new toy, and I’m the old one at the back of the wardrobe that’s all broken and disgusting. I’m the last option. I’m the last option at Chelsea, the last option at home, the last option for everybody, and I can’t physically handle it. I’m done constantly being left on the fucking sidelines of life whilst everybody else plays.”

Caitlin nods. She listens. It’s what you need. You just need to feel listened to. 

“Your sister should be focusing more on you. She doesn’t realise that you didn’t move for independence like she did. When we moved for football for the first time, it was because we finally wanted independence. We wanted freedom. We wanted to feel like adults. You want to feel supported, want to feel like you’re a part of a family. You’re feeling that whilst your sister is simultaneously beginning to start her own family, and that’s scary. I would be scared by that if I were you. You’re seeing the cementation of new roots, and in your eyes, you don’t fit into the foundation that they’re building. There’s one thing that hasn’t changed about your sister since we were 18, and that is the fact that she’s a little bit unobservant. She doesn’t do small feelings. She does the big ones. She doesn’t understand the anxieties that you’re experiencing because she doesn’t experience them. Also, whether you want to admit it or not, I think you might be a little bit jealous of this baby. You didn’t get to spend your childhood with your sister. That was stripped from you when she moved away. This baby gets all the attention and all the love and doesn’t get left behind, and that’s tough.”

You are a little dumbstruck for words. It’s been hard to pinpoint all of your feelings, and yet Caitlin has just laid them all out in front of you.

“I’m not jealous of the fetus.”

Caitlin snorts, a proper snort that has you in fits of giggles. 

“Not even a little bit?” 

You shake your head defiantly. It’s easier to deny than admit it. 

“Because think about it. This time you’re like the older sister. That kid won’t want to be spending time with Kristie and Sam. It’ll be fawning over you from day one. Babies take a village. I know you feel on the outs right now, but when that baby comes, it’ll change.”

It’s easy to say that there is a light at the end of the tunnel, but in your opinion, there really isn’t. You can’t see any future where you feel any less of a misfit. 

“It’s not just Sam though. It’s everywhere. I don’t have friends, not at Chelsea. I’m my sister’s shadow, I always have been, but since the move, it’s been worse. I can’t make friends at school. I’m there purely to go to class, and I miss half of them anyways. Everyone at Chelsea sees me as my sister. I’m just an extension of her. Everything I do that is any good is because of her. Nobody can see past it.”

Caitlin didn’t have a quick answer for you. Your eyes burned with angry, hot tears. They were yet to spill, but they were on the brink, and it was impossible to ignore. 

“I can’t get away from my sister’s shadow, and it would be fine if I felt like I was a byproduct of her, if she spent every waking moment helping me be that way. But she hasn’t. It’s all been me. It’s been my hard work, my own push. Sure, she’s helped me into environments that have made me better, but it’s been my hard work. She hasn’t done shit, and yet all anybody says is that I’m good because of her, that I’m just a result of my sister’s influence. I’ll always be a shadow of her to everyone, even her.”

It’s a cathartic feeling. The tears slip down your face. You push and scratch at your cheeks, trying to remove the evidence, but it’s obvious. It’s ugly. It’s everything that’s been building. 

Caitlin doesn’t say anything. She just walks around the counter and gives you a big hug. 

“You are a lot more than your sister, and if people don’t recognise that, then you should be getting away from that, taking a break. You deserve to feel like your own person because you are.”

You don’t have anything left to say. You’ve laid it all out, and it feels good, but there isn’t any change. Venting is good, but when you’re going to go back to it all, it doesn’t truly matter. You’re stuck in the prison of your life, and there is no escaping. 

“I’m sure you’re exhausted. How about you go and take a nap before dinner? Refresh and let your mind rest, and we can regroup, okay? I promise you we can find a solution to some of this.”

You nod; you are feeling tired. It’s been hard to sleep at the apartment with Kristie constantly getting up during the night to hurl her guts. 

Caitlin’s guest room is warm, it’s nice, it’s virtually the same as your room at home, and yet it feels so much more welcoming. It doesn’t take you long to drift off. 

When you wake up, it’s very clear that quite a few hours have passed. Not only is it completely black, but the sleep in your eyes and fogginess in your head is enough of an indicator that what was going to be a quick nap had turned into something a lot longer. The edges of your vision are hazy and blurred as you blink your way back into consciousness. You don’t want to get up, not at all. It would be so much easier to just stay where you are, forever. Just stay lying in bed and warm and cozy, comfortable. You didn’t get to where you were today, though, by allowing yourself to be comfortable. 

So begrudgingly, you pulled yourself out of the bed, still dressed head to toe in a Chelsea tracksuit and hoodie. It really did feel illegal amongst all of the Arsenal memorabilia in every corner, and on every wall of the house, it only made you feel like more of a dichotomy. 

Your stomach began to rumble as you walked down the stairs to the kitchen. You were sure that you must have missed dinner but hoped that maybe something had been left aside to tide you over. 

You could hear murmurs coming from the kitchen, and in your state of half-awakeness, you’d put it down as being Caitlin and Katie. 

You were off guard, and that’s why you’d been more shocked than you thought possible when you walked into the kitchen and your sister was seated in the exact same place you’d been sat a couple of hours ago. Immediately, both Caitlin and your sister’s eyes were on you, them both seeming just as surprised as you. 

You were ready to bolt, but Caitlin’s voice stopped you.

“Your sister came to talk to you. She was worried when you weren’t home tonight for dinner.”

You roll your eyes, if you’d moved out a month ago Sam wouldn’t have noticed. 

“We haven’t had dinner together in months, don’t lie to my face. You called her, you fucking called her, I trsuted you with something and you called her.”

Sam looked like she was going to butt in but Caitlin stopped her. 

“Okay, yes I called her. Because I was worried but also mad and I wanted to fix that. I’m going to leave you two to sort this out.”

Caitlin started to walk towards you and out of the kitchen, you couldn’t help but clutch for her hand as she walked away. 

“It’s going to be fine. Trust me and listen to what she says and tell her how you feel. She came here to fix things, or start to fix things.”

Caitlin closes the kitchen door leaving just you and your sister alone with each other. 

“Just because we don’t have dinner together doesn’t mean I don’t notice when you’re done. Mum would kill me if I wasn’t keeping an eye on you and let her baby sneak out.”

It was the connotation of it all, Sam didn’t care, she was doing all of this for your mum. 

“I’m so sorry mum decided to burden you with my presence.”

Your sister exhales, like she’s trying to keep control, because she feels she has to. 

“That’s not what I meant. You matter just as much to me as you do to mum.”

Rich. Really rich coming from her. 

“Oh yeah, so that’s why mum calls me everyday to ask me about my day and how I’m doing and you just exist beside me. When was the last time you talked to me about anything besides football or the baby or Kristie? When was the last time you did anything with me that wasn’t related to football. When was the last time you asked me anything about my life or even acted like you cared?”

Sam exhales again, and breathes in like she’s trying to suck in every bit of oxygen in the room. 

“It’s not like that.”

You didn’t want to be angry about all of this, sad, disheartened, depressed. You could deal with that, but anger was so much harder. 

“Oh tell me how it is then. I know you didn’t ask to be looking after your teenage sister fulltime but you could at least pretend like my presence isn’t a complete burden to you. I fucking idolised you my whole childhood, when we had dress up days at school I would always dress up as you. I’ve always wanted to be you, and I was fine with everybody putting me into the box of Sam Kerr’s sister, I didn’t care, if anything it was the best feeling in the world. I didn’t care about being your shadow when you were my favourite person. But now that I’m here you’ve wrecked it all. You don’t have to tell me that I don’t fit into your picture perfect life, I’m well aware. I just didn’t expect you to treat me like fucking shit. I’m sick of it, I want to go home, I’d rather jeopardise my football career by going back then deal with anymore of this.”

Sam looks like she’s about to start crying and it feels good, you want her to feel what you are feeling, you want her to feel an inch of what you’ve been feeling for the past months. 

“You aren’t a burden to me. Not at all.”

You scoff, you aren’t a burden but she just opts to forget your existence, makes a lot of sense. 

“Okay so am I a ghost then? Do I have the ability to turn invisible and nobody has told me about it because you sure fucking act like I’m not here 95% of the time.”

Your sister stands up and starts to walk towards you and you immediately move. You don’t want touch or hugs or whatever she’s going to offer. 

“I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel that way. I’m really sorry.”

You really don’t know what to say to that. It’s a step forward but it doesn’t do anything, saying sorry is good and well but it doesn’t change an action. 

“I thought you came here for independence. God mum made it out like you were going to blow perth up if she didn’t get you out soon enough. I’ve wanted to be close to you since you were born, you were the light in all of our lives. Then you were here and I underestimated what it was going to be like but it was awesome and just having you in the house made it all so much better. Kristie and I had always wanted kids but having you around just made it seem like it would be the right fit, you have made our lives so much better. So, we started the process and it was all I could think about. I was your age when mum had you, I got to see you take your first steps and grow your first tooth and I thought it would be good for you to have the same experience. I just didn’t get how much time it would take up and how consumed with it I would get. You don’t deserve to feel this way, you don’t deserve to not feel cared for. I love you more than anybody else, I would put down anything for you, without a question. I haven’t made it seem that way recently but it’s true. You’re my priority, you always have been and you always will be. I don’t want you to go back home, having you here has been the best thing that has ever happened. I don’t know how i;m going to fix this but I’m going to. I’ll maker the changes, I’ll talk to Kristie, I’ll spend more time with you like I did before.”

So many feelings, so little words. 

“You don’t get me. I don’t want you to give up time, Kristie is the love of your life, this baby is going to be your kid. Your kid, not your sister, your kid. I don’t want you to detest me because I take away moments from your life.”

Sam shakes her head. 

“You are just as big a part of my life as anything else is. You fit into it all, if I haven’t amde you feel that way that is completely my fault.”

It’s nice to hear her say that, it’s nice to feel accepted even if it’s just for a second. 

“It’s not just that. I am literally your shadow. I don’t have any friends at Chelsea, everyone thinks I’m good because of you. Kerr is plastered everywhere and I’m just synonymous with all of your achievements. I don’t get to be me, the only difference is the different first name letter on our jerseys. I’m a good football player, because of me, not because of you. I’m sick of everyone telling me that I have a good right foot because my sister is Sam Kerr, or that I must have gotten my good defending skills from practicing with you. Everything has to be because of you, and I can’t handle it. I don’t have any friends that aren’t yours, my life is a by product of yours and I’m done with it being that way.”

This time when Sam takes a step towards you, you don’t immediately step away. Her presence doesn’t bother you, it’s the look on her face. 

“Okay, we can fix that. You want to quit? Move clubs? Go on Loan? I can talk to everyone at the club and make changes. Wew can change jerseys, you can have your first name and not last name. You should spend some extra time with the younger girls, stop feeling restricted by what I do and don’t do and just live your life. I’ll tell everuone how much of a fuckup I am and how you are skilled because of you. Whatever you want, I am here to support it. I haven’t done that enough recently and it needs to change, I want to make you my complete priority. No more forgetting you because I’m being selfish and only thinking about myself. My asshat behaviour ends now, I promise. What do you want, I will try my hardest to help you get it. I can call our agent right now and you can be playing in a different country.”

You shake your head, a small smile working it’s way to the corners of your mouth at your sisters franticness. 

“I don’t know, I have no fucking clue what I want. I just want you to know, I want help, I want to not feel like shit everyday just because of who I am.”

Sam nods, and reaches out for you. The hug is easy, it’s cathartic, you feel so much pressure releasing from your body as her arms tighten around you. 

“Okay, I can do that. We can do that. You and me yeah, you and me against the world.”

It’s not even close to fixed, your life hasn’t changed. But the overall weight, the soul crushing pressure of it all fades. You don’t trust, you don’t trust her to make changes. She hasn’t earnt that trust but you hope, you fucking hope that maybe something is going to happen. 

[starkeygirlposts]

Boyfriend turned Step-Bro Rafe Cameron x Reader

SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: You've been dating Rafe Cameron for 3 years, and one day Ward and your mom tell you they're getting married.

This is a snippet of a fic I'm going to see if I want to continue writing. Please let me know if you'd like it to be continued.

I'm not diving too deep on details or character traits in this, as it's just a blurb/idea for a full fic.

Trigger warnings: stepcest, underage, drugs, pregnancy

----

The Rafe Cameron who became your boyfriend when you were sixteen years old was not the Rafe Cameron who people referred to your step-brother at eighteen.

The complete opposite, really.

Your parents separated when you were in your sophomore year of high school, your dad moving across the country to California when he met his mistress on a business trip while you and your mom kept a tidy home. The affair nearly killed your mom, and she learned to lean on none other than your boyfriends dad.

Ward was the perfect fill-in for your mom for a while. She was just having a good time, she'd told you. "He occupies my mind Y/N, does that make me such a bad mom?" Like you being upset with your mother being however which way involved with your boyfriends dad was so out-of-this-world believable. Truth was, yes it made her a bad mom. Not just because it put you and Rafe in an uncomfortable position, but because you were struggling yourself after having your family as you knew it blown apart.

But she wasn't just "having a good time." Or rather, maybe she was having too good a time. Because on a Thursday evening at the Cameron's dinner table that you all had gathered for, Ward held your moms hand and told you all that they were getting married.

That day, your world fell apart, and Rafe started to become someone you soon would not recognize. Rafe's hand slipped from your thigh, gone the tender loving warm fingertips, drawing lazy hearts on your skin.

You looked over at Rafe before doing or saying anything to anyone else, and his eyes were higher than yours, connecting with his father's in an expression you could only imagine was pure hatred. Because Rafe could never live up to his father in any sense, and now he was taking away the one thing that kept his feet planted to the earth. Of course he was. You flinched when Rafe's chair scraped like nails on the tile flooring, as he darted from the table outside to his truck, leaving you to pick up the pieces. How badly you'd wanted to chase after him. But when your eyes connected with Ward's, the decision made for you.

You didn't even need to ask.

"Unless you want to live with your father in California, you and Rafe will stop whatever it is you two have going on." Ward had told you.

You looked to your mom as if she'd help you - feel some semblance of remorse for you. You'd met Rafe first. Three years ago. You'd been the only reason your mother even met Ward. But why should you be so surprised that what she wanted was more important than your happiness?

From that day, Rafe started slowly slipping from you. A hollow shell of the boy you loved so deeply and painfully. He'd drink himself to sleep every Friday and Saturday night, breathe cocaine on the other nights, and wave you off when you tried to ask him to slow down.

"Y/N, you want me to stop? To make you happy? What do you do anymore that makes me happy?" You'd touch his cheek and guide his head down to make his eyes meet yours, and you'd stare into them - hoping for a shimmer of your boyfriend to snap back and remember.

He'd shrug away from you, his hand brushing you off and leave you watching his back as he'd resume slowly killing not only himself, but you too. But his coldness didn't stop him from sneaking into your room past midnight to have sex with you. Not that you wish he'd stop, because you so badly craved his touch, eager for it any way he'd offer it. Mean, rough, kind, tender; you'd take any of him just to feel connected.

So when you'd texted Rafe to meet you in your room after dinner on Thursday night nearly one year after your world truly blew apart, hoping you'd get to him before the white powder did, he locked the door behind him and the black in his eyes told you he'd already gotten his fix. But your small hand came up to his chest as he approached you, seated cross legged on your pink floral bed spread, clutching the stick in your other hand. You looked up at him and when you locked eyes, he understood, because he took your hand from his chest and squeezed it in his own before leaning down to touch his lips to yours.

"I miss you, baby. My beautiful girl."

His breath was hot against your mouth, his scent so familiar and home to you. You couldn't stop the tears from falling from your eyes, your hand loosening from his hand to hold onto his forearm that connected to the fingers clutching your jaw tenderly but firmly in place, kissing you like he loved you again.

How badly you missed him, too.

"Rafe, please..."

Your hand falls and his breaks from your jaw, and you take this moment to capture his hand with your fingers and place the stick into his palm. His eyes break away from yours to look down at what you've given him, and you watch with tears streaming down your face as his brows furrow, his feet shuffling to back up and you brace yourself.

He doesn't do what you expect him to do, though. He stares so deeply down into his palm that when his eyes do reconnect with yours, confusion in his own eyes, his head tilting just the slightest and you're trembling, waiting for the shoe to drop.

"This...this is a -- you're..." His eyes screw up shut and he shakes his head like he's imagining things and he's crazy. "A baby?" He finally asks, looking up at you again and you can only nod.

"My baby?" He asks again, and you nearly scoff, because really? Was he kidding? Who else was sneaking into your room after midnight, invading your body and your thoughts?

"Yes, Rafe, I'm pregnant with your baby." You tell him, standing and he's still shaking his head, eyes bunching up as if he's being told the craziest thing in the world - because really, he is. But you've sat with this for the entire day and while your reaction wasn't as confused, you too felt the familiar disbelief.

You watch his chest rise and fall, deep breaths in and out before you're in a whirlwind and he closes the distance between you and pulls you to him, tucking your head underneath his chin, the back of your skull rested protectively in his large palm. His lips are at your forehead when he tells you

"I'm going to take care of it. They're not keeping me from my kid."

----

AH, what do you think? My ask box is open for feedback. Please feel free to use it to ask for what you'd like to see from this fic!

[nadvs]

　　🐚　⊹　❀　︵　∘　 good hurt ⟢

pairing rafe cameron x kook! female reader

rating explicit 18+

summary rafe is rough with you for the first time.

this is a blurb in the home before dark universe, inspired by this ask!

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

It’s been almost two months since the night in Rafe’s bedroom. The words and touches that you shared then threaded you together in a way that neither of you thought was possible, easing you into a blissful haze.

You’ve spent nearly every long summer day together. The season is nearing its end, the sunsets arriving earlier and the nights growing colder.

Rafe’s hands are on your hips as you sit by the busy country club pool together on a warm afternoon, settled on the same lounger. He’s sitting behind you, his bare chest brushing your back with every inhale he takes, his fingertips ghosting over your skin.

With how attached you and your boyfriend have become, your friend groups have slowly melded together. He’s still the Rafe everyone else knows with them, rough around the edges and not at all friendly, but with you and only you, he’s protective and passionate and warm. He even gets needy sometimes. You don’t see it as a bad thing.

It feels so natural, laughing with your friends, sipping on a drink, Rafe touching you, as if it’s always been like this.

You finish off your drink and stand to place your empty cup on the table. When you bend over, you give Rafe a view of your ass, your bathing suit scantly digging into your flesh.

His groin tightens at the sight. Seeing you like this even for just a second turns him on. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve tangled in each other’s sheets, but you stoke the fire in him even more every day you’re together.

His mind drifts to last night in your bedroom. Your parents have been away again, giving you an opportunity to do whatever you want in an empty house with no risk of being caught.

You were in your bed, your lips wrapped around him, your eyes locked on his as he sat up and watched you. He kept his hands on your head, fingers laced in your hair as you bobbed up and down.

He wanted to tug at your hair, to turn you over, to slap your ass and slam into you so hard that both of you get sore. But he holds back every time he wants to get rough with you. He loves you. He respects you. He can’t hurt you.

Rafe knows he shouldn’t be thinking about this right now. He’s getting hard in public. You settle in front of him again.

He leans forward just a bit, his breath warm on your bare shoulder.

“Don’t get up for a while,” he mumbles loud enough only for you to hear.

You turn your head to meet his eyes, noticing the lust in his gaze.

“Why?” you whisper.

“I’m…” Rafe purses his lips, flustered, and looks down to motion to where he’s throbbing for you.

“You’re what?” you tease.

A small smirk grows on Rafe’s face. He knows you’re messing with him. That you want him to say it.

“I’m hard,” he relents. You smile and bite your lip, eyes fluttering down to see the bulge in his swim shorts. Nobody’s paying attention to either of you, but you shift a little closer to hide him just in case.

You love this, how often you drift into your own personal world beneath the overlapping conversations around you.

“How come?” you ask. Rafe scoffs amusedly, his tongue poking under his cheek.

“You bent over,” he murmurs.

You move even closer to him, already excitedly anticipating him sleeping over tonight.

“You like when I bend over?” you purr.

“Don’t,” he breathes with a half-chuckle, his cock twitching in his shorts. “Not right now.”

You shrug with a small smile, turning around again, falling into another conversation to give him time to cool down.

You spend another half hour by the pool before you head to your house on the back of his bike. A few weeks ago, he bought you your own helmet after you fussed over how he always lent you his and didn’t have anything protecting him.

As you come up your street, the motorcycle roaring loudly, you press your hands against his chest tighter and drag them down his torso, stopping right above his groin.

Rafe revels in the feeling of your eager hands on him. Your love is like medicine to him, numbing everything that hurts, making a warm, exciting desire float through him. In a matter of seconds, he’s hard again.

Once he parks in front of your house, he waits for you to dismount before he does like always, his skin tingling from where you touched him.

“Been teasing me all damn day,” he mutters once he pulls his helmet off. You smirk at him, handing him your helmet to put away.

“Have I?” you ask with a sweet giggle. Impatient blue eyes glare at you, but he can’t stifle his smile. “Maybe a shower will make you feel better.”

When you reach your bedroom, you toss your bag onto the floor and start to strip away your clothes, eager to get the smell of chlorine off of your skin.

You can feel the atmosphere in the room thickening as Rafe keeps his eyes on you the entire time he undresses. At this point, you’re completely comfortable with each other in every way, knowing each other’s bodies well.

You turn to head to the shower, your bare body on display for him, but he follows close behind, big hands gripping your hips, his length pressing up against your ass.

“I can’t wait,” Rafe murmurs.

You shudder as his hot mouth settles at the side of your neck, kissing you. It’s intoxicating, the way he thirsts for you so deeply and hurriedly, unable to wait the few seconds to make it to the shower.

His fingers start to dig into hips, but then you feel him exhale against you, letting go. He’s been doing this lately. He moves quickly, roughly, then stops himself.

You turn, draping your hands over his shoulders, looking up at him as you stand together naked, anticipating what’ll happen next.

“Why do you do that?” you ask with a tilt of your head.

“What?”

“Hold back,” you say with a breathy laugh. “It feels like you want to do something, then you stop.”

Rafe should have known you’d notice. You’ve always been so observant with him. It’s a type of love he’s never felt before.

“I don’t… want to hurt you,” he says gruffly.

You lean forward, leaving a lazy kiss on his lips.

“You can hurt me a little,” you whisper with a smile. “What do you want to do, hmm? Tell me.”

“I…” Rafe’s eyes drift over your face in awe.

“Or do you want to show me?” you say. Your hands cup his, leading them on your hips again. He pulls you closer, his lips parted.

“You sure?” he rasps. He knows you’d do anything for him. He doesn’t want it to be at the expense of your comfort.

“I’m sure,” you say with a nod.

“Tell me to stop if I need to,” he says, then captures your lips in another kiss. His fingers drag up the curves of your body and he cradles your head as he kisses you, his tongue running over yours.

Your kisses grow deeper and Rafe gives into the impulse to tug at the roots of your hair. He pulls back an inch, forehead against yours, gauging your reaction.

“Pull harder,” you whisper.

He huffs with a smirk, aching for you at this point, and he kisses you again, pulling at your roots with enough force to tilt your chin up higher.

You step forward to close what little distance remains, pressing your bare body against his.

“Fuck,” he groans against your mouth. He pauses, breathing heavily to look down at you, still tugging a fistful of your hair.

“Don’t hold back,” you say. Rafe takes you in, the way your lips shine from the moisture of your kisses, the way your eyelids are half-dropped in bliss, the way your body is flush against his erection.

“I want to throw you around,” he says breathlessly. “I want to fuck you so hard you can’t walk.”

His words make your entire body tingle with arousal. You knew he was passionate, that he had a aggressive side, but you never knew this was what he was holding in. It’s thrilling that he wants to dominate you, to ruin you in the best way.

“Do it,” you say, staring straight into his eyes. “As hard as you can. I want it.”

Rafe almost groans just from your words. He pulls at your hair tighter, leading you to your bed, letting go to thrust you onto your bed.

You’re on your back as he leans down to hover over you, smelling like sunblock and Rafe as he nuzzles his face into your neck, nipping at your earlobe.

You stroke his hair as he settles between your legs, his tip nudging against you. You writhe under him, impatient for him.

Your muscles loosen when he lowers his hand and slowly traces up and down your folds. His finger sinks into you slowly to prepare you, making you tremble, your eyes fluttering shut.

He adds another finger, curling into you, shuddering as he feels how hot and wet and tight you are, craving to be buried inside you.

Rafe’s lips land on yours again, both of you breathing heavy. He traps your bottom lip in his teeth, pulling back, earning a moan from you.

His temple is against yours, feeling how wet you are, listening to the sound of his fingers pumping in and out of you.

“As hard as I can?” he echoes your words in a deep murmur.

“Please,” you say.

He takes his hand away from between your legs and reaches to grab your ass, flipping you onto your front with a rough push.

“On your knees,” he orders. You obey, knees sinking into the bed, your cheek against the sheets. He grips the back of your neck with one hand, fingers slick from you, while the other runs over the curve of your ass.

He’s on his knees behind you, swollen and throbbing, unsure if he can really do this, if you can really take it.

But when you wriggle beneath his touch, arching your back in eagerness, he clenches his jaw and brings his palm down with a hard smack. You gasp and laugh in pure elation, your skin stinging.

“You like that?” he rasps, turned on but worried he’s going too far.

“Mhm,” you purr. “Do it again.”

Your words dismiss all the concerns occupying his mind. He spanks you again, revelling in the way your flesh quivers with the contact.

Rafe leans to kiss where he hit you and you smile to yourself. Even when he’s being rough, he’s reminding you he loves you.

He said he couldn’t wait before, but now, if he spares one more second, he might go crazy. He guides his cock into you and you let out a sweet, breathy moan.

He bottoms out with a groan, his hands on your hips again. He takes the incredible sight in, the way your ass is up in the air for him, your hands splayed on your bed.

Rafe pulls back then slams harder this time, making you jolt with the force.

“You want it like that, yeah?” he murmurs.

“Don’t stop,” you breathe. He shoves himself into you again, even harder this time, and you clench around him so tightly that he’s already seeing stars.

He picks up his pace, starting to pound into you harder than he ever has, rocking you back and forth with his hands tight on your hips. The bed starts to squeak as he rolls his hips, thrusting in and out of you.

Rafe looks down, face contorted in pleasure, watching your pussy swallow him. Your honeyed moans tell him you’re loving this just as much as he is.

The pressure you feel from him filling you like this is perfect. He tugs at your hair again with both hands this time, pulling your head back. You swallow hard as your neck curves, your mouth agape, your eyes rolling back.

“You’re taking it so fucking good,” he praises, panting. You clutch onto the bedsheets, feeling them bunch beneath your fingers. “You’re mine.”

He always says that during your slow, gentle moments, but hearing it now, his voice hoarse and his movements rough and his breaths sharp, is on a new, raw level you haven’t been on together.

He possesses you completely. And by the way he’s starting to whimper, you know you own him, too.

Rafe lets go of your hair, leaving you to drop and rest your cheek on the bed again. He leans to grip your breasts and squeezes hard, his weight on your hips, as he fucks you with raging, manic thrusts.

His fingers dig into your flesh. His breaths are hot against your back. Your thighs are starting to ache from perching up like this, but it’s a good hurt.

His skin slaps against yours with every thrust and when he shifts to put his fingers on your clit, drawing tight circles, the coil in your stomach starts to twist slowly, promising an orgasm.

“Oh, fuck,” you whisper, breathy. “Yes.”

Rafe bites his lower lip in ecstasy, shifting to grip your hip as he continues to play with you. Fireworks explode inside of you when he pushes you into your climax, tightening around him.

“There you go,” he whispers, talking you through it. “Let me hear how good it feels.”

Your moans spill out of you with no inhibition as you arch your back, trembling through the release you’ve been waiting for.

Both his hands are on your hips, controlling the fervid pace, pulling you against him as he pounds into you. You feel him go even harder and when his hot cum pools into you, his groan is deep, interrupted by a string of strained fuck’s.

He stays inside you for a moment before pulling out, leaving you to collapse to your side, almost breathless.

Rafe drops onto his hands, chest heaving. He looks down at you as you lie on your side, a lazy, fucked out smile on your face.

“Definitely need a bath now,” he mumbles after a moment. You breathe a chuckle and nod, but you don’t have the strength to get up. You close your eyes as his weight shifts off the bed. Seconds later, you hear the faucet in your ensuite running.

When Rafe’s ready for you, he pulls you off the bed with gentle, loving hands, leading you to the hot bath he drew for you.

He sinks into the water, guiding you to sit with your back to his chest. When you settle in the tub together, he kisses the back of your hand.

“You feeling okay?” he says, his deep voice echoing in the bathroom.

“More than okay,” you answer with a happy sigh. Your body is still twitching.

“You did so good,” Rafe praises. He kisses your cheek, hand settling between your legs under the water. “I didn’t go too hard?”

“No,” you breathe. “We should do that more.”

You spread your legs, your cunt sore in the best way, letting him massage you.

“You know how much I love you?” he whispers. “You know how fucking perfect you are?”

You tilt your head back, resting against Rafe’s shoulder, revelling in the feeling of him treasuring you, running his fingers over you again and again.

“My beautiful girl,” he rasps. “I love you so much.”

“I love you,” you whisper, wrapped up in the heat of the water, in the firmness of his body, in the solace of his love and care.

[fxstpace]

only angel

summary: on paper, you and gojo satoru are the perfect rivals, heirs to competing companies, each primed to outshine the other. what a pity you can’t seem to get enough of each other behind closed doors.

⇢ pairing: rich kid!gojo satoru x rich kid!fem!reader ⇢ genres: smut, fluff, fake rivals to ???, friends with benefits au, secret relationship au, rich kid au ⇢ word count: 4.7k ⇢ warnings: semi-public sex, wall sex, fingering, oral sex, protected sex, overstimulation, dirty talk (?), exhibitionism, nudity, they love each other but are in denial, he calls mc his angel, profanity, alcohol consumption ⇢ a/n: lowkey inspired by only angel (harry styles). reuploaded because i accidentally deleted it :,)

“I’m just saying, if we want to see other people, we should.”

You roll your eyes. From your position on the bed—curled-up, facing Satoru—he looks sleep-drunk and honey-sweet. You can’t really say that to him without sounding like a sap, so you kiss the corner of his mouth instead. He hums, low and satisfied.

“What was that for?” he asks. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“So that every time you see another girl, you remember that my kisses are way better.” You let a slow smile spread across your face.

“That’s… possessive,” Satoru says, sounding mildly impressed. “And kind of toxic.”

He leans forward this time, brushing his lips against yours. Strictly speaking, you and Satoru have no reason to be so tender with each other. Intimacy is a rarity you can’t afford.

“Are you interested in seeing someone else?” you ask, when he pulls away.

A laugh ripples through his chest, and you grin impishly up at him. “Seeing people, yeah. Fucking them, no,” he says.

“I won’t stop you even if you do fuck other people.”

“How considerate.”  His smile is teasing, but you’re not joking. 

Your relationship with Gojo Satoru would cause a scandal unlike any other if word got out—and rightfully so. Your family has always been at constant odds with the Gojos, continuously trying to one up each other. As some of the biggest business conglomerates in the country, competition between the two companies was inevitable, but you certainly didn’t expect it to attain the level of aggression it has reached now. You and Satoru often joke that you’re like Romeo and Juliet, minus the idiocy of ingesting poison and the whole falling in love part. 

While the rest of your family and business associates do their best to eliminate their rivals once and for all, somehow you and Satoru didn’t get the memo.

Secrecy is a must in your situation. Only a select few people are aware of the illicit nature of the relationship between Limitless Industries’ doted-upon child and Gojo Holdings’ golden boy. Even then, you’re careful, hiding your comings and goings from your parents and superiors. You usually make up some excuse—you were out with your friends, you went on an impromptu day trip—something to make them stop sniffing your trail. 

By all logic, you and Satoru should hate each other as well. But he’s a charming guy, objectively attractive, and more than that, he’s fantastic in bed. One formal event and too many glasses of champagne later, you found yourselves scurrying off to a deserted room, as though you were teenagers trying to sneak out during a school trip. It’s been a few months since then, but this arrangement has lasted.

So, logically speaking, all this small talk and commitment is utterly unnecessary. You’re not searching for any new guys to fuck, but if Satoru wants to fuck other people… Well. That’s his choice.

“You see people every day,” you remind him.

“Your point is?”

You move closer to him, throwing a leg over one of his. His cock twitches. You grin and reach down, splaying your fingers over his bare abdomen. He hisses at the contact, quickly tugging the blanket off. 

“My point is,” you whisper, rubbing your thumb against the soft patch of hair that’s right above his groin, “I’ll see you tonight at the launch event, Mr. Gojo. Do try not to get your dick wet until then.”

“You’re evil, you know that?” Satoru whines, fingers curling into his palm.

You swing your legs over the side of the bed, fishing underneath the covers for your bra and panties. The lacy lingerie secured a few attempts later, you stand up and stretch your arms lazily. The horizon is tinged light pink; the glass door that leads to the balcony reflects the sun’s earliest rays. The city is just barely awake. Five o’clock in the morning on a Saturday lies somewhere on the threshold between dawn and night, and it’s a good thing no one you’ve come to the convention with will be awake now, after all the drinks they’ve had the night before. 

“One of my better charms,” you reply flippantly to Satoru’s previous comment. 

You fasten your bra and quickly pull up your underwear. Bending down to pick up your discarded clothes—a formal skirt and blouse—you know Gojo Satoru is already staring blatantly at your ass. 

Sure enough, when you turn around, you find him watching you dress with his mouth hung open and a dazed look in his eyes. This might be your favourite part of your excursions, you think: Driving Gojo Satoru mad. You once asked him why he liked seeing you dress up again so much, and he cheekily said that he loved imagining undressing you all over again. It had made heat flush your cheeks, and he had laughed at seeing you so flustered.

Now, it gives you a weird sense of delight, because more often than not, you leave Satoru with a hard-on and a curt order to not touch himself. Whether he actually complies or not, you don’t know, but you’re satisfied anyway.

“You should sleep in for a bit,” you tell him, once you’re fully-dressed. You run a hand through your unruly hair in an attempt to detangle it. 

In the light of the day, Satoru’s hotel room is a lot more… fuller. In the dark, all you did was grope about, pray you didn’t stub your toe on something and clutch the back of Satoru’s shirt like it was a lifeline while he fumbled to find the lamp on the bedside table. With crumpled sheets, a half-opened suitcase by the plush armchair, and an empty mug of instant coffee on the table in front of it, it looks lived-in—a weird contrast to yours. You prefer keeping your hotel room pristine because you feel strangely guilty giving the hotel staff more work to do.

Satoru yawns. “So should you. The conference isn’t until seven in the evening, no one’s going to be awake.”

“I… need to prepare for my speech,” you say. It’s a lie—you’ve practised your speech so many times, you know it verbatim now—but you’re absolutely paranoid at the thought of someone accidentally finding you and Satoru together.

And then you’d be forced to stay away from him, and what good would that do? It would cause more misery than you want it to.

“Oh.” Satoru perks up. “You’re presenting today? Good luck.”

“Thanks, Satoru.” You smile. “I’ll see you in the evening.”

“Yeah, alright.”

You clutch your shoes in your hand—it’s too early to prance about in high heels—and twist the knob on the door. Satoru, ever the suave gentleman, winks at you raunchily before you roll your eyes and shut the door behind you. 

The carpeted hallway is soft against your bare feet. You can hear the distant whirring of one of those big carpet-cleaning machines further away. You quicken your pace; your room is one floor below Satoru’s and you can’t risk getting caught, even by the hotel staff, so close to the Gojo heir’s room. The lights cast a soft glow throughout the gilded walls, making the abstract art paintings pinned up shimmer. A vase with dried-up roses sits prettily on a marble-topped table as you round the corner towards the staircase.

You quickly descend the steps two at a time, nearly running straight into a waiter holding a tray with a pot of coffee aloft. You give him an apologetic smile and a shrug when he glances at your haphazard state, as though to say Well, what can you do? and head on over to your room. Thankfully, you don’t run into anyone else along the way.

You swipe your keycard against the lock and push your door open. Dropping the heels on the floor, you let out a relieved sigh. First things first: you’re going to brush your teeth and take a nice, long shower. You think about the dress you’ve planned to wear for the evening and smile.

Gojo Satoru is going to love it.

Your speech was a resounding success. 

Despite being one of the few women speakers invited to the conference, you refused to hang your head low. Yes, you might have gotten to the position you’re at only because of your parents, but that doesn’t mean you’re not good at your job. You delivered every line perfectly.

You deserve a reward.

The grand ballroom shimmers under the glow of crystal chandeliers, the soft hum of conversation interspersed with the gentle clink of champagne glasses. You glide through the sea of tailored suits and designer dresses, exchanging pleasantries with industry leaders and dignitaries. You’re here as a representative of Limitless Industries—and, by extension, your mother and father. Connections are vital, and you can’t be caught slacking.

Your gown, sleek and fitted, feels like a second skin, catching the light just right as you move—enough to draw eyes, enough to give off an air of importance. Your makeup is light, only accentuating your best features. You’re the talented daughter of one of the country’s richest CEOs; your image should come off as authentic and empathetic.

But there’s only one gaze you can feel lingering on you from the moment you stepped off the stage, and it’s Satoru’s.

You pause, taking a sip of your almost-finished drink. Your conversation with Nanami Kento—a famous businessman—about philanthropic organisations is intriguing, and it’s a good chance to network and earn some favour. But even though Nanami is smart and intelligent, and extremely good-looking (he looks like a Greek statue carved by the Gods; you’re slightly envious of his jawline), you can’t stop yourself from trying to catch Satoru’s gaze. You wore this dress for him, after all.

He meets your eyes from where he stands, leaning against the bar, looking effortlessly elegant in his tailored suit. His hair is combed back, a few strands falling across his forehead, and he sips from a glass of some dark liquid, raising it slightly like it’s a toast. A small, knowing smile tugs at his lips, before it’s quickly replaced by the polite, blank expression both of you have perfected over the years—though his blue eyes twinkle just the same. It sends a wave of warmth straight to your chest and down your navel.

Swallowing down the last of your champagne, you place it on a nearby table and excuse yourself. You can’t linger in his stare for too long; that would only be giving yourself away. Satoru tilts his head, and you know what he wants. 

You make your way to a quieter, less crowded part of the ballroom, near one of the staff rooms. Just as you prepare to slip out through one of the side doors, a hand grabs your wrist, and you’re yanked into the quiet, dimly lit space. The door clicks shut behind you. Satoru’s body is pressed flush against yours. 

“Did you wear that just to drive me insane?” he murmurs, breath ghosting over your ear.

You can’t help the smirk that tugs at your lips—you knew he would love this colour on you—but your words falter when his hand slides over the curve of your waist, fingers teasing the slit of your dress. 

“You’re not the only one in the room,” you manage to say. “Maybe I dressed up for the crowd. There are tons of eligible bachelors out there.”

“Yeah? Like who?”

“Nanami Kento,” you say, startled by your own boldness.

Satoru’s eyes widen with momentary surprise. “Is he why you brought up the idea of seeing other people this morning?”

“God, no.” You swallow. “Not at all.”

His lips ghost over your neck, the slightest hint of a chuckle escaping him. “You love getting fucked by me,” he whispers, his hand traveling further down, gripping your thigh, pulling your leg to the side as he presses himself against you. “You just like to make me remind you.”

Your breath hitches when he yanks your leg up around his waist, the fabric of your gown slipping higher, exposing more skin to his wandering touch. You place your hands on his shoulders for balance.

“You were amazing, you know,” he continues, lips a hair’s breadth away from yours. “Couldn’t take my eyes off you. My gorgeous angel.”

“What do I get for it?” you whisper back.

“Oh? So greedy,” he says, rubbing circles on the bare skin of your thigh. “I’ll give you what you want, don’t worry.”

Satoru’s promise makes heat pool in your stomach, and you crash your lips with his. His tongue slips through your parted mouth. You tangle your fingers in his hair, messing up his careful hairstyle. He groans into your mouth, pulling you closer until your chests touch.

His hands are everywhere—tracing the curve of your hips, slipping beneath your dress, fingers finding your panties and tugging them aside like they’re in the way. The cool air hits your skin, making you shiver.

“You’re soaked,” he mutters, voice tight as he slides a finger through your slickness. “All this just from me watching you?”

You bite your lip, trying to keep yourself from making a sound when he slips a finger inside you. The stretch is familiar, yet it never fails to send a ripple of pleasure straight through you. Your knees almost buckle. He smiles, adding a second finger. His pace is slow, teasing, building the heat between your thighs until you’re struggling to keep quiet.

“Satoru,” you gasp out, barely able to catch your breath. His thumb brushes your clit, sending sparks shooting up your body. You know you should stop this, that anyone could walk in at any time, but the way he’s touching you, the way his fingers curl inside you—it makes coherent thought impossible.

He presses you harder against the wall, his mouth leaving a trail of kisses along your throat, sucking just lightly enough that he doesn’t leave marks. His other hand snakes along your waist, holding you steady while his fingers work you closer and closer to the edge, the rhythm of his thumb on your clit driving you wild.

“I think we’ve got… thirty minutes before people notice we’re missing,” your rival breathes out. “Think I can make you cum in five?”

You let out a strangled gasp, your body trembling as he quickens the pace of his fingers, thrusting them deeper, harder. The coil in your belly tightens with each stroke, every flick of his thumb over your clit; you can’t hold back the soft moans that escape your lips.

Satoru grins, clearly enjoying the way you fall apart in his hands. “That’s it. Don’t hold back.”

His words, the heat of his breath against your ear, send you spiralling. You grip the front of his suit jacket, your legs shaking as the pleasure builds, higher and higher, until it’s too much. Your hips buck against his hand, chasing that final push as his thumb presses harder against your clit.

Your orgasm rips through you, a wave of white-hot pleasure that makes your vision blur. Your thighs shake as you cum around his fingers. You bite down on your lip to keep from crying out loud, but a small whimper still slips through. He continues to pump his fingers, prolonging your release.

When it finally subsides, Satoru pulls his hand away, fingers glistening with your arousal. He watches you for a moment, a satisfied look on his face. You try to catch your breath, leaning heavily against the wall for support.

“God, you look so good when you cum for me.” He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, almost tender.

You open your mouth to respond, but before you can, he shushes you and brings his fingers—still wet with your slick—up to your lips.

“Suck.”

Your heart pounds in your chest, but you do as he says, wrapping your lips around his fingers, tasting yourself as he watches silently. His thumb brushes your lower lip as you release him, his gaze not leaving yours.

“My turn. I want to eat you out.” Satoru’s grin is mischievous, but evil is how you would describe it.

“F-fuck, no, Satoru, I— I can’t—” 

Your protests fall on deaf ears. Satoru drops to his knees, uncaring of the fact that the linoleum floor beneath him is probably dirty enough to soil his expensive trousers. 

“Satoru, wait, let me just—” You kick off your heels. The floor is cool underneath your bare feet and it feels better now that you no longer have to worry about accidentally twisting your ankle because you couldn’t hold yourself up.

“Hold your dress up for me, angel.”

You comply, bunching up your dress in your arms and holding it above your waist. The fabric wrinkles under your fingertips. You want to say something snarky back to him—but the only thing that escapes your mouth is a small squeak when Satoru cups your ass with a hand, pulling you closer to his face. He licks his way up your thighs, only stopping when you whine.

“Shhh, angel. You’re going to draw someone’s attention if you keep making those pretty noises.”

You nod but whimper softly, because if Gojo Satoru angled his head just a little bit, his breath would be ghosting right against your centre, the only barricade being the soft cotton of your panties. He rests a finger against the front of your underwear, his touch light. When he sees the way you bite your lip to hide your moans, he presses more firmly, rubbing against your pussy.

“Fuck,” you curse under your breath, attempting to fuck yourself on his finger. He looks up at you with a wondrous expression, watching you swivel your hips, trying to get yourself off. Finally, having had enough, Satoru hooks his fingers through the waistband and roughly pulls it down. 

If you weren’t so high off his touches, perhaps you’d have been embarrassed at the arousal that glistens over your pussy and inner thighs even though you just orgasmed. As such, you do not give a fuck—especially not when you hear Satoru’s sharp intake of breath at the sight. He licks your clit slowly, once, twice, thrice, and then grabs your ass and pulls you closer. You free one hand and hold onto strands of his hair to steady yourself. Satoru’s mouth attaches to your clit, slurping and sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves. The moan that bubbles out of your throat draws a satisfied hum from the man eating out your cunt.

He slides a finger inside your clenching hole, slick with arousal, swirling his tongue around your clit. Your mind feels blank, lost to the pleasure that Gojo Satoru readily gives you. You let out a slew of curses, until finally, you nearly cry out, “Satoru—oh—I think I’m going to cum—”

Your rival completely disregards your comment, instead adding another finger and pumping them both in and out. His mouth still works your clit diligently. It’s not long before you close your eyes and see stars on the inside of your eyelids. Your chest heaves as your orgasm washes over you. You come undone on Satoru’s face and fingers, shuddering and gasping out profanities.

“Good job,” he praises. You open your eyes and find him still kneeling on the floor. The bulge against the front of his jeans is prominent and for a brief moment, you feel a bit guilty for not giving him the same pleasure he gave you. He glances at his slick-coated fingers, and once you meet his gaze, he pops them into his mouth and licks every bit of your juices off of them. 

“What about you?” you breathe out.

“What about me?”

“You’re hard,” you point out, as if you’re not stating the obvious. 

Satoru arches an eyebrow and stands up. “Very astute observation.”

“Oh, fuck off. I don’t even know why I bother, honestly—”

Satoru grins and kisses the corner of your mouth. “Are you offering to suck me off?”

“No fucking way.” You scowl. “I spent hours on my makeup.”

“Hm. Not that that did any good—”

Your scowl turns fiercer.

“—I mean, you still look beautiful, even though you’re all sweaty. I was just teasing,” he amends. “I’ll be fine. I’ll just go back to my hotel room all by myself and jerk myself off all by myself. Or I could fuck you against the wall.”

Your eyes widen. Satoru—ever the cunning one—notices.

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he drawls, unzipping his trousers. His bulge is more prominent, now, with only one layer of fabric covering it. “You get off on that, hm? You like being pressed against the wall, so close to everyone outside? Anyone could hear the sounds you make with that pretty little mouth of yours, and then everyone will want to know who’s coaxing them out of you. You like the sound of that?”

His words, crass and filthy by all means, make you shiver. Satoru knows you better than most people. He has mapped out all the places that make you moan, how to bring you to your high as quickly as possible—but he also knows how to make you laugh and smile, and what type of dessert is your favourite, and about the time you cannonballed off the diving board and broke your arm because you didn’t land inside the swimming pool correctly.

Gojo Satoru knows you, and it is this fact, more than anything else, that makes you trust him.

“Once more for me, angel. Can you do that?” he asks, pulling his underwear down and freeing his cock.

You nod dumbly, mouth watering at the sight of him—white strands messed up by your fingers, dick hanging out of his pants and curving upwards, the formal button down with the sleeves rolled up and the collar askew, and the lipstick stain on his cheek. He is a vision, and he is all yours.

Satoru smirks, like he knows the effect he has on you. You really should get him back for that, you think.

“Turn around for me,” he coos.

You do as he says, dress still bunched up in one hand. Satoru presses into you from behind, the curve of his dick against your ass, and curls an arm around your chest, cupping one of your breasts. He pinches your nipple lightly through the satin-like fabric of your dress; you gasp.

You turn your head, trying to catch a glimpse of your lover. He stares back at you, mouth pressed into a thin line like he can barely restrain himself, eyes darkened with lust. He pumps his cock a few times, spreading his pre-cum over the length.

“Satoru,” you whisper, pleading.

Satoru kisses you at the same time he enters you, swallowing your moan with his mouth and running his tongue along yours. He still tastes a bit like you, and it’s enough to make you shudder coupled with the feeling of him filling you up.

“Fuck, angel,” he murmurs against your lips. “So perfect for me. Gonna fill you up so well, yeah?”

You can only groan in reply, your free hand coming around to clutch his. His grip is tight and warm, and he squeezes your hand when he pulls out and thrusts back in. You let your head drop back and lean on his shoulder, your eyes fluttering shut and pants escaping your throats.

“So pretty, so beautiful, so perfect,” Satoru mutters, swivelling his hips and thrusting faster into you. He moans, the feeling of your walls clenching around him nearly driving him over the edge. He mouths kisses at your neck, your jaw—no longer careful to not leave marks. He doesn’t care anymore. Some twisted part of him gets off on showing the world that he’s fucked you—his rival since both of you were declared the inheritors of you respective companies—so well. Others would kill to be in your place, or in his, but you only want him and he only wants you.

“S-Satoru, ‘m gonna cum,” you gasp out. His dick drags against your walls, and one particularly rough thrust makes the tip of his cock find that one spot that makes your toes curl with pleasure. You nearly keen at the sensation.

“Cum for me, angel,” he mumbles. “Doing so well for me. You deserve it. You’re on the pill, yeah?”

“Yes,” you moan, leaning your forehead against the rough surface of the wall and squeezing your eyes shut. You squeeze Satoru’s hand once more, the only sounds being the slap of skin against skin and the breathless noises that escape both your lips. Your thighs tremble and you feel stars burst against your eyelids as Satoru brings you to an orgasm for the third time that night.

He rides you through it, continuing to pump his cock in and out of you, though his thrusts have turned sloppy. With a string of curse words mumbled under his breath, Satoru finally cums inside you. You groan at the feeling. He stays there, quiet, simply holding you while both of you catch your breath. 

Satoru slips his softening cock out of you and tucks it back into his pants. You turn around, wrinkle your nose, and bend down to pull your panties back up. You’re sweaty and you feel sticky all over, and you can barely stand without leaning on Satoru for support.

There’s no way you can go back to the convention in this state.

He wipes the sweat off your forehead with the back of his hand. You smooth out your dress and adjust your hair, trying to look presentable. He takes a step back, eyes sweeping over you one last time.

“You have lipstick on your cheek,” you inform him. He brings a palm up to his face and rubs at his cheek.

“Here, wear this,” Satoru tells you. He picks up his blazer from where it was thrown on the floor—you hadn’t even realised it was there. Mumbling your thanks, you drape it over your shoulders. 

“Come on. I’ll take you back to your room,” he says. “We can shower together.”

“God, no, Satoru. Knowing you, you’ll probably have me against the bathroom wall again.”

“What do you take me for? A hormonal teenager who just discovered Wi-Fi and incognito mode?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, so that isn’t offensive at all,” Satoru whines. “Please? I’ll even shampoo your hair for you and I promise not a single thought about sex will enter my mind.”

“That’s practically impossible for you,” you mutter. Still, the thought is enticing. You could really use a warm bath right now, and if Satoru is offering to wash your hair for you—well, it’s one less thing for you to worry about given how tired you are. “But fine. We’ll have to be careful so that no one sees us together, though.”

Satoru grins. “Of course. I think everyone is out there getting drunk. We’ll be fine.”

He picks up your heels for you, and, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, twists the door knob.

(You frown and shove your phone into Satoru’s face. The screen is open to an article, which reads:

Has The Notorious Bachelor Of Gojo Holdings Finally Settled Down? Gojo Satoru Photographed Leaving Hotel Room With Mysterious Girl.

Underneath it is a grainy photo of him, his white hair sticking out like a sore thumb, with his hand around your shoulders and your heels in his hand. Thankfully, your face is blurred enough that no one knows it’s you, but still.

“Speculations about who the mysterious girl is rise as the Internet goes into a meltdown,” Satoru reads, trying—and failing—to keep a straight face. “Gojo Satoru, considered one of the most eligible and successful bachelors around, has never once been caught or embroiled in any love affair. The most popular suspicion is that the woman in question is a secret spy, sent to seduce him and steal his extensive collection of designer sunglasses,” he continues, pausing to dramatically adjust one of the said pairs of sunglasses perched on his nose.

“I’m going to kill you,” you mutter, raising a hand to shove his shoulder.

Satoru laughs and catches your hand, using it as leverage to pull your body closer to his. “You won’t. You’re the only angel I know—you’re too nice to do that.”

“Try me,” you say, but you tilt your head up and capture his lips in a kiss instead.)

[willowsnook]

I see you (pt. 1)

max verstappen x reader

summary: the reader is living life as if it were a giant checklist to get through. Max is the only one who really sees through her facade and makes her question if this is the life that she really wants

—————————————————

18: graduate high school

22: graduate college with a business degree and land your first job

23: meet the love of your life

25: get married

28: move to the suburbs

30: have kids

A 5-year plan hated to see you coming. You had been this way your whole life, always planning ahead for the future. Your parents used to laugh when you'd lay out your life plan for them, tussling your hair and telling you that life doesn't always work out exactly how you think it will. But now, at 24, it had.

Living in Monaco was a dream, and you were thankful that you landed the job that brought you to the beautiful country. You moved over two years ago and now shared an apartment with your boyfriend, Sam, whom you met when, you guessed it, you were 23.

Your life was perfect. You had a job that paid you well, a boyfriend who loved you, and good structure. You woke up at the same time every morning to run, eat a healthy breakfast, and read for 30 minutes. Your night routine was just as structured. Everything was exactly as it was supposed to be, at least that's what you told yourself.

"Hey, I have to run to make this meeting, but I'll see you tonight, yeah?" Sam asked as he grabbed his backpack off the hallway floor, kissing your cheek as he headed out the door.

"Okay," you replied, but he was already gone, so you turned your attention back to the lunch you were packing for yourself. Your phone pinged and you looked at it to see a text from your brother, asking if you were interested in going to the Monaco GP with him this weekend. You liked going to the races, mainly because, thanks to your brother's best friend, you always had VIP passes. Your brother met Max while karting growing up, and the two stayed friends even when your brother fell out of it. Max was friendly, but he had always made you nervous; it was like when he looked at you, he was looking into your soul.

You told your brother that you could and then shot Sam a quick message letting him know even though he was going to be out of town for the weekend. The morning at work went by quickly, and you were in the cafeteria eating lunch with some of your coworkers, one of whom had just gotten back from her honeymoon.

"Oh my gosh, it was amazing," she gushed. "It was so us, just a little cabin in the mountains."

"What kind of things did you do?" You asked, and she thought for a second before answering.

"Honestly, not a lot. We kind of just hung out together and talked for like four days straight. I don't want to get too cringey with you guys, but the happiness and love I feel knowing that this is who I get to spend the rest of my life with is something I can't even describe. " Your coworker was getting a little emotional talking about her new husband, and you frowned. You couldn't really ever imagine yourself talking about Sam like this.

Sure, you loved him, but did he set your heart on fire? No, but you didn't really believe that was possible; it was just a sentiment made up for romance novels. Sam was stable. He had a good job, a good family, and similar goals. You had different interests, but the important things were the same, and you valued that. He made your life comfortable, which you appreciated.

As your coworker continued speaking, you felt yourself start to get lost in thought. Could you truly love someone so much that they become your entire world? Despite trying to push them away, the doubts and questions that have been lingering in your mind for the past couple of months began to resurface. Were you settling? Were you truly happy?

Your mind was stuck on that topic as you headed home, and you frowned when you finally made it back and saw a note on the counter.

Going to be working late, sorry xo -Sam

This was not unusual. He often was caught up working late hours, but that was the price of success, was it not? Sam was on his way to becoming a partner at a law firm in the city and would not let anything get in the way of that, which was something you admired when you first met him.

The two of you met at a networking event and hit it off, both having moved here from the US after college. You found him insanely attractive, especially the way he took control of any room he was in. He liked that you weren't interested in being arm candy, were focused on your career, and had the ambition to move up in the world.

But as much as you wished you were, you didn't feel like you were that person anymore. To be honest, it felt like you were drowning.

—————————————————————

You loved race weekends in Monaco; they made you nostalgic about your youth, when you spent countless weekends at the track with your brother during your school breaks. Moving through the paddock, you said hello to some friends before spying your brother outside of the Red Bull garage, talking to Max.

"Y/n," he called, waving over to you. You smiled widely, moving into his arms, happy to be reunited. He lives in Milan now, so you don't see him as often as you would like.

"Hi, Max," you greeted the Dutchman, and your eyes met his, twinkling with amusement.

"Little y/l/n," he teased, pulling you into his side. "You know it's crazy to me that we never run into each other."

"She's too busy working all hours of the day," your brother responded, and you rolled your eyes, giving him an annoyed look.

"You are also gone most of the year," you pointed out to Max, and he shrugged.

"How is work, by the way?" your brother asked, and you launched into your overused answer about it going well and that you were excited about the growth coming. He seemed to accept that, but you noticed Max giving you a look, like he almost didn't quite believe you, but he didn't say anything.

Max got pulled away by his team, so you followed your brother into the hospitality area, picking up a plate to get some food.

"Sam didn't want to come?" He asked casually.

"He's on work travel," you told him and he didn't say anything. You knew he didn't like Sam, but you could never really figure out why. "When will you finally tell me why you don't like him?"

"I don't not like him," he said. "I just am not sure I like him for you."

You felt a twinge of irritation at your brother's words. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He sighed, setting down his plate. "Look, I know you've always had this plan for your life. And on paper, Sam fits into that perfectly. But Y/N, when I see you two together... I don't know. There's just something missing."

You opened your mouth to argue but found you couldn't form the words. Your brother's observation hit too close to the doubts you'd been having lately.

"I just want you to be happy, truly happy," he continued softly. "Not just checking boxes off a list."

You stared down at your plate, appetite gone. "I am happy," you mumbled, but the words felt hollow even to your own ears.

Just then, Max reappeared, breaking the tension. "Sorry about that," he said, grabbing a drink from the machine beside you. "You guys should watch from the garage."

Your brother perked up, shooting Max a grateful look. "We would love that."

Admittedly, you were excited to watch from down there. You always wanted to be where the action was, especially when it came to racing. Ever since you were a girl, sports has been your biggest passion in life, even beyond racing. Being from the US, football and baseball had a special place in your heart, and even now, you stay up very, very late to watch your favorite teams. In another life, you knew that you'd have found some kind of job that let you be involved in the industry, but that wasn't how the cards fell in this one.

The race began, and you were instantly swept up by the electric energy of the bustling garage. The scent of gasoline and rubber hung heavy in the air, mingling with the metallic tang of exhaust fumes. Engines roared to life, and tires screeched as cars whizzed by in a blur of color. It was a symphony of sound and motion, each revving engine adding its own distinct note. As you watched in awe, your heart raced along with the cars on the track, feeling alive in this thrilling moment.

Cheering along with everyone you watched Max take another win and you joined your brother to watch the podium ceremony. You were smiling widely as the Dutch anthem played, and Max found your eyes in the crowd, shooting you a wink.

———————————————————————-

Rather than going out, Max wanted to celebrate his win by hosting in his Monaco penthouse. His home was crowded with Redbull employees, the grid, and their friends who wanted to come. You were enjoying yourself, bouncing around and talking to different people you knew from the old days. You were glad to relax for once. After a while, you started to hit a wall and found yourself stepping out on the balcony to get some fresh air, gazing at the cityscape.

The door opened behind you, and you felt another presence join you at the railing. A blanket was gently laid over your shoulders, and you turned, smiling gratefully to Max as he gave you a soft smile back. His eyes looked at you in a way that made you shiver; you felt like you were naked under his gaze. Turning back to the view, you sighed.

"Do you ever wish things could be different?" You asked, surprising even yourself.

Max stood there in thought before answering, "I don't think so. I'm doing everything I've always wanted to, and if I wanted to stop, I would. I thought you had everything that was part of your grand plan?"

You smiled, thinking about your nine-year-old self had even informed Max of what your life was going to look like. "I do."

"I haven't seen you look as you did today when I was on the podium in a long time," he said, and you turned back to him.

"Like what?"

"Like you were happy," he said softly, scanning your face for a reaction, but you felt like a bucket of ice water had been poured over you.

"That's not true," you said weakly, and his gaze bore into yours.

"I see you y/n. I see how you look at your boyfriend like he's what you got in a business transaction. How you look at your job like it's the prize for steadfast loyalty. It's like you're a side character in your own life"

You started to get angry with him for calling you out so bluntly.

"You don't know me, Max," you disputed. He chuckled humorlessly, looking back over the railing.

"Maybe not," Max conceded, his voice softening. "But I remember the girl who used to light up at the track, who couldn't stop talking about sports stats, who dreamed of being a sports journalist. What happened to her?"

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes as memories flooded back—the thrill of live games, the joy of analyzing plays, the excitement of crafting stories about athletes and their journeys. When had you let that passion slip away?

"She grew up," you whispered, but even to your own ears, it sounded unconvincing.

Max turned to face you fully, his blue eyes intense. "Did she? Or did she convince herself that growing up meant giving up on what made her happy?"

You opened your mouth to argue, but no words came out. Deep down, you knew he was right, so you simply turned around and left—left the balcony, left the party, left to get away from the storm of emotions coursing through you.

[patscorner]

kate fic idea ! okay so you and kate have been best friends since you can remember, but something happens around third grade were you had to move away. a few years later (towards college or so) you guys reconnect (bc yall decided to apply to the same college) then it ends up on them going on a date and kissing 🙏🏽

will do! 🫡

ALL OF THE ABOVE

Summary: You and Kate grew up together, but when you move across the country, you lose contact with her forever. Or so you think.

wc: 2,339 (she's a long one, buckle up folks)

Contains: mentions of alcohol, nothing...?

______________________________

For as long as you can remember, you have always had a best friend. Whether it was your first imaginary friend, your dog, or your brother. One of the most memorable of them all, though, was a short, dirty blonde girl in your third grade.

Kate was assigned as your table partner in art. Even as an eight-year-old, you knew she was the prettiest girl you’d ever laid eyes on. You both instantly clicked, bonding over favorite colors and working on your math problems together.

You both would play outside in recess together, swinging on the swings, or you’d play in the dirt while Kate played with a basketball. You guys were instantly each other’s ride or die, going to one another’s houses for sleepovers almost every weekend. Even throughout the seventh grade girl drama (canon event), and even after both of your friend groups crashed and burned, you two stood strong.

But sometimes things happen that you can’t control, like your parents separating in the middle of your eighth grade year. When you thought it couldn’t get any worse, your dad decided to return to his hometown and move across the country to Iowa, taking you and your brother with him.

You’ve never fought anything harder. You spent most of your time screaming at your dad and begging him to let you stay. When he kept refusing, you eventually accepted the fact that you were leaving. Leaving everything behind, your childhood home, your memories, your best friend.

At the time, the hardest thing you’d ever done was tell Kate you were leaving. You were in tears the whole time, even before you told her. She’d looked at you with worry and concern before embracing you, telling you that no matter what it was, she’d be there for you.

That’s the moment you knew you had fallen in love and that there was absolutely nothing you could do about it.

After you told her, you both cried together, vowing to write everyday (this was before you guys owned phones), and promising to never forget each other.

And that’s exactly how it started out. You wrote to her everyday, filling her in on everything that was happening in your first year of high school. And she’d write back, telling you about how she made the basketball team.

But soon, she started getting busy with all the media attention on the sophomore star, and your letters every day turned into nothing at all. You kept writing to her, but you never got anything back, even after you told her you got a phone.

You figured it was because you both got busy, but you couldn’t help but feel a little hurt that she didn’t write to you back. Eventually, you distracted yourself with finding your love for soccer and her, creating her future in women’s basketball.

You wouldn’t say you forgot her, because how could you? But you didn’t think about her much anymore, and she fell to the back of your mind. You’d moved on with your life, and you were certain she did, too.

Eventually, you graduated and got a full ride to the University of Iowa because of your amazing talent in soccer. Little did you know that a year later, so would Kate. Of course, hers was for basketball, but the same campus nonetheless.

You lay on your bed, watching old soccer highlights, trying to see if you could predict the plays and the fouls before they happen. You look up as you hear your dorm door open and watch as your two roommates drunkenly stumble in. One of your roommates, Sarah, fumbles with the keys before dropping them and leaning on your other roommate, Devon, doubling over in laughter. You roll your eyes and close your laptop. Guess we’re done with that for now.

“What happened to ‘not getting too drunk’?” You asked with raised eyebrows, helping Devon, who is much more drunk than Sarah, to the bed. She mumbles incoherent words, so you look up at Sarah to translate as you take Devon’s shoes off.

Sarah shrugged. “The football team showed up. They’re the life of the party.” She slurs the last bit and then covers her mouth before rushing to the bathroom.

You shake your head as you turn back to Devon, who’s staring down at you. “You’re hot as fuck.” she mumbles.

“You’re drunk, and you have a girlfriend.” You say. You’re far too familiar with Devon when she’s intoxicated. All she does is flirt with people, whether her girlfriend is in the room or not. Luckily, most people on the Iowa campus know her and who her girlfriend is, and they know to stay away, not engaging or encouraging any of her behavior.

“Cait is so annoying.” Devon whines. “She didn’t wanna come to the party with me.” she throws her head back on the pillows, flinging her legs on the bed when you finish taking her shoes off.

“Or.” You grab her a water bottle from the fridge before opening it and making your way back to her. “She has a game tomorrow and doesn’t wanna play hungover.”

You’d been to a couple of Caitlin’s games, and it’s even more amazing to watch her play in person (she’s also fine as hell, but you’d rather keep your life, so this one stays in your head). And with your brother being on the college baseball team, he’d go to many sports events, whether it be basketball, football, women’s basketball, or baseball itself.

Devon sighs before taking the water from you, practically drinking all of it before handing the mostly empty bottle back to you. You put a blanket over her before making your way to check on Sarah.

Opening the door, you notice that she’s taking her makeup off and her hair down. “Oh, shit, you’re all good then?” you say, surprised to see her standing. She turns to you and nods. “Unlike Ms girl in there, I can hold my liquor.” You laugh and turn to leave.

“Oh, you comin’ to the game tomorrow?” Sarah asked, turning to look at you. You sigh deeply before shaking your head. “Nah, I gotta study.”

“Bitch, you’ve studied for like three days, you’re gonna burn yourself out. You’re allowed a break.” Sarah says in a light-hearted manner but you can tell she wasn’t all the way kidding. She wasn’t all the way wrong either. You’d been studying relentlessly for a test in your business class, and gave yourself little room for a break.

“Come on, a small break isn’t gonna kill you.” Sarah persisted. You sigh defeatedly. “Fine.”

She grins widely, already planning outfits to put you in. You shake your head at her antics, when in reality, it was one of your favorite things about her.

Guess you're going to a game tomorrow.

Big mistake. You completely forgot that it was the first home game of the preseason, so the stadium was packed. The people looked like little bees, swarming around in their yellow and black jerseys.

But you and your roommates made sure to take shots before you left the apartment, so the alcohol eased your nerves a little. Since your brother was a baseball player and your roommates girlfriend was Caitlin fucking Clark, you guys had scored courtside seats, right behind the coaching staff.

You shuffle into the aisle, pulling your short black dress down as you settle in. You sit down, and turn your attention to the court. The teams are doing warm ups, and you watch as they do layups. One girl catches your eye, her dirty blonde hair tied back into her signature braid. She looks painfully familiar, but you can’t put your finger on it.

That is until she turns around to sit on the bench , and you get a good look at her last name.

Martin.

Your jaw drops in shock, as your brain tries to process all the emotions that hit you at once. On one hand, you’re pissed that she left you in the lurch, but on the other hand… she’s Kate, and Kate is your best friend, someone who you once didn’t think you could live without.

She’s sitting in front of you, conversing with Caitlin. You obviously couldn’t hear what they were saying, but you’re an expert at reading lips (thanks to your parents), and you make out the word ‘single’, to which Kate nods her head at.

For whatever reason, this made your heart tingle, hope flashing through your mind. Maybe things could go back to how they were.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by Sarah nudging your shoulder. “Stop staring, girl, you’re gonna burn a hole into her head.” she teased. You bit your lip as your cheeks flushed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You mutter unconvincingly. You knew you weren’t being subtle, but at this point, you didn’t care. Your best friend, your first actual best friend, was seated no more than 15 feet in front of you.

Sarah rolls her eyes at your stubbornness. “C’mon bro, you're practically drooling.”

You shake your head. “I know her.” is all you say. Sarah shakes her head, giggling at your antics. “Yeah, everyone does. Her high school stats are off the charts.” You nod, although you’re not surprised. You’d watch Kate play in middle school, and she was a beast then, so you could only imagine what a powerhouse she was now.

And you were right. Kate and Caitlin dominated the entire game, piggy-backing off of each other, getting assist after assist. Whether it was Caitlin passing it behind-the-back to Kate, or Kate doing a no-look pass to Caitlin. The stadium was louder than you’ve ever heard it, most of the ruckus coming from the student section as they cheered on the freshman and their beloved Caitlin Clark.

The duo scored a total of 98 points together, and along with the rest of the team, Iowa won with 112 points, beating the opposing team by 67 points. The crowd storms the court, and you sit and watch as thousands of people in yellow and black attire swarm the players.

You and your roommates stay behind, as Devon waits for the people to clear out so she can hug her girlfriend. Eventually, most of the audience cleared out, only a couple of fans lingering. You take a deep breath as your roommates stand and make their way to Caitlin and Kate, who are laughing about something together.

Kate’s laughter is like music to your ears, a sound that almost makes you cry as an overwhelming amount of memories of hearing that beautiful noise every day swarm your brain.

You stand a little farther back as Devon goes up and hugs her girlfriend from behind, eliciting a yelp from a startled Caitlin. Caitlin turns around, hugging her girlfriend before kissing her passionately. You’d be disgusted, but you're far too distracted because at this point, the attention from Kate is on you.

You both stared at each other for a second before she spoke. “Do I know you from somewhere?” she asked. Her voice is just as amazing as you remembered it to be, only slightly deeper. You smiled nervously as you felt tears well in your eyes.

“I’d hope so. My brother used to drive to take us to the Phillips gas station, and you’d force him to buy you Skittles.” You smile as you watch her eyebrows furrow before they light up with excitement, just like they used to.

“No fucki-” she cuts herself off by jumping on you. Your hands go instinctively to catch her, hooking your hands under her thighs. Kate buries her face in your neck, squealing as she squeezes you as if you’ll disappear if she lets go.

“I can’t believe…there’s- how are you here right now?” She asked as she pulled away from your neck. You’re still holding her, and you know for a fact that if you weren’t in shape, you’d be tired, but because of the workouts your coach has you doing, you’re able to hold her with ease.

“After the move, I got into soccer… it turns out I was pretty good, and they gave me a scholarship.” You say, looking up at her. She grins at you. “That’s amazing! After you stopped sending me letters, I assumed you had forgotten about me.”

Your eyebrows furrow at this. “Wait, what? No, I kept sending you stuff, I just stopped getting stuff back, so I just thought you got busy.”

She shakes her head. “I never got any of them.”

“Really?”

“Not one.”

You shake your head as you put her down. “I don’t know why, I wrote to you every day.” Her arms stayed around your neck as your hands navigated to her waist, resting there as you two looked at each other.

Kate bites her lips in thought but shakes her head, pulling you into a hug. “Doesn’t matter. I’m so happy you're here.” Your heart swells at this, hearing those words healed every single ounce of doubt about her that you’d ever had. She didn’t forget about you, she was in the same boat as you, waiting for a response. For years.

“I missed you so fucking much.” You whisper, finally letting tears fall. Kate hears the way your voice shakes and pulls away. She looks at you with sympathy.

“I’m sorry.” She whispers. You shake your head, shaking off her apology. “Not your fault.”

She smiles at you, and you're both looking in each other's eyes for a moment.

Everything freezes. This is the girl you grew up with. The girl who kicked the boy who purposely stepped on your brand new kicks with his muddy shoes. This was the girl who made fun of you for your shitty spelling, the girl who made you feel at home, even while yours was falling apart.

You look in her eyes and you realize home is not always a place. Sometimes home is a person.

Your rock. Your home. Your person.

And she is all of the above.

______________________________

taglist: @bueckerslover @wintersstan @lilia22hicks @fake-intelligences @breeloveschris

[twistedpink]

Mc inserts x TWST characters pt.2 (OG post) (Pt.3)

(non-yuu pairings that fit into the plot of twst, if you like this then you might want to look at the first part!)

Savanclaw!Mc x Cater Diamond

Enemies to lovers with your favourite diva!! The two of you compete constantly through magicam and spelldrive, getting progressively pettier until the only solution is to kiss it out.. You’re trying to keep an ear out for your junior, and it just so happens Cater’s sniffing out your plan to go for gold in this year’s tournament. You might as well take the chance to mess with him! It’s so easy to love the face he makes when you give him the slip, and you’re totally making it your wallpaper when this is all over.

“Yo, Babe! If you’re in the same dorm, then you know Ruggie, yeah? We need to have a chat”

“Ohmigod you totally think all beastmen know each other, don’t you?? cancled :)”

Shroud!Mc x Vil Schoenheit

Ids attached himself to engineering and gaming pretty early, but your passion is fully unattainable. You’d clung onto pop idols and the art of stage makeup from an early age. Your longest running interest by far is Vil Schoenheit,, He rescued you from destructive habits and encouraged you to value self improvement. You’ve probably invested millions into his career (every thaumark sent anonymously, you’d die if he started to recognize your attached messages). Supporting Ortho in his SDC audition is your official reason to talk with him, and all the teasing from Idia will be so worth it when your Schoenheit debut palette gets signed! You’ve kept it in mint condition behind glass for years admiring it- and waiting for THE day.

“Mr. Schoenheit? My younger brother performed for you today, and uh, your signature please?”

“Normally I’d send both of you home for this. I’m sure you’re well aware of my paparazzi policy, However, I haven’t seen this particular relic in years! Just what have you done to preserve the quality?”

Pomefiore!Mc x Ruggie Bucchi

You’re #1 in the business of pissing off your parents- shopping copious amounts and then going to school across the country satiated you for awhile, but they’ve done something particularly revenge worthy now. The best scandal you can think of is getting a trashy boytoy to bring home for the break, but you’re not really into idiots.. Ruggie can be a very good actor given the right motivations, and he might even fool you into a real relationship before next semester.

“C’mon it’s not like I’ll need a script, sugar. I’m a natural, scout’s honor!”

“Either way, it won’t hurt to rehearse for convenience :/ Kiss me now so we don’t look stupid later.”

Scarabia!Mc x Floyd leech

God you hate that fish faced idiot >:( It’s bad enough that the housewarden’s moodswings guaranteed your holiday plans were all shot, but now Jamil’s getting hounded by the mafia! It’s your responsibility to get them off his back, but it’s not like you’re enjoying it. Somehow it’s even worse to watch Floyd when he’s playing dumb, and his emotional roller coaster keeps you walking on eggshells. The show must go on though, and if you’ve gotta play “wrestle until the biting stops” then you’ll do it :/

“Floyd, it’s dinner time, and I will tear you a new one if it means you’ll get moving.”

“PLEASEEEE tiger sharky just one more round :( I’ll even give your pen back!!”

Octavinelle!Mc x Kalim Al-Asim

You’re probably one of the most talkative of octavinelle students, and definitely a solid salesman. Kalim’s a prime target for resales and marketing practice, so naturally you join the pop music club. A year of “playing nice for the jackpot” leads you to lie awake at night, terrified that he’ll see through your facade and ditch you- it would cut off your best friendship, you’d be forced to leave the club! At some point you realize you’d stopped selling him things months ago, and your worst nightmare happened right under your nose. You fell in love.

“Hey, that solo was so inspiring! You’re really making progress!”

“It still isn’t on par with yours, though. Are you available to keep practicing after school? I’m sure Jamil would appreciate the break, and I would enjoy the company..”

Staff!Mc x Lilia Vanrouge

Of course your first job would come with some pet bat, it was too good to be true :( Full time at a bits and bobs shop near one of the best schools in the country WITH flexible hours? You must’ve been desperate to accept without reading about your babysitting in the footnote. He comes in everyday during your shift (regardless of the hours you take, it’s like he has a sixth sense), and has the audacity to exist in your space! It’s not like he even does anything to get banned!! He just stands there. Menacingly. You’re waiting for the day where he leaves convincing evidence that he’s there to traffic you or something- because if you didn’t know better you’d think he has a big, fat crush on you.

“Darling, how is the shop? I’ve taken care of those juvenile delinquents for you!”

“Taken care of? Whatever. Get back to class, kid.”

[alotofpockets]

In the moment | Keira Walsh x Reader

Where you celebrate Keira's Champions League win on the pitch with her

A/n: @scribblesofagoonerr thank you for your help with the pictures!!

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.5k

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Football had never been amongst your interests, but that all changed two years ago when Keira moved into the apartment next door to you. You met her on the day she moved in after one of her boxes had broken open and its contents spilled in your shared hallway. 

“Hey, dejame ayudarte con eso.” You told her as you pulled your front door close behind you. The box was done for, so you each carried her stuff inside and placed it in the empty living room. 

“Thank you so much for your help-” Your new neighbour started, “Y/n, and not a problem at all.” She smiled at you, knowing that she would have someone close by who spoke english. “Keira.” You shook her hand. “It’s nice to meet you Keira, need a hand with the rest of the boxes?” 

Your trip to the grocery store was completely forgotten as you got to know Keira. She told you that she just moved from her home country to Barcelona to play football, and that the club was a huge help in helping her find her way around. Still she gladly took your offer to help her out with some local places that were great to get her apartment ready. 

The two of you got close quite quickly, and soon you found yourself on the couch watching her matches, and it didn’t take much convincing to get you to come to a match. You met a bunch of her teammates after the game, and even when the two of you hadn’t known it yet, they had immediately seen that the two of you would end up together.

Much to her teammate’s delight the two of you quickly figured out your feelings for each other. You got into a relationship a few months after she had moved in next door. Keira had been in a relationship with a fellow footballer before, and was all too familiar with the way people would invade her personal life, and criticise every small thing about her, and the person she was with. So, from the beginning she had been open about wanting to keep the relationship away from the public.

You talked often about what that meant for you, and were open about your feelings on everything. Eventually you decided on keeping your relationship private, but not secret. Your friends and family all knew about the two of you, and so did a lot of the public, but you decided to not share a lot of your relationship on the internet, and that worked for the both of you.

Keira would post one of her insta dumps and have you in one of the pictures without tagging you, or one of her teammates would show you in the background of a picture that they posted. It didn’t take long for fans to catch on and find your profile, but since you kept your profile private, all it meant was that you’d get a ton of follow requests.

You supported Keira in her matches, whether that was from the comfort of your now shared apartment, or in the stadium stands. While football outside of Barca or the Lionesses still wasn’t your thing, you gladly spend your free time watching your girlfriend play the game that she loved.

Just like those matches, you had watched every single match that led her team to the champions league final. The morning of the Champions League final, you met up with Keira’s parents at the Bilbao airport, them flying in from the UK and you from Barcelona. 

You spend the morning exploring the city, and enjoying some food, before you head to the stadium. The closer you get to the stadium, the more football fans you come across. The streets were filled with Barcelona and Olympique Lyon jerseys. 

The stadium filled with over fifty thousand fans, all eagerly waiting for kick-off. The crowd was loud when the players entered the field for their warm-ups, a sneak peek into the electric vibes the stadium would be filled with for the rest of the night. 

Keira was in the zone, warming up, when Alexia pointed you out in the crowd. You saw her searching until her eyes finally met yours. Her focussed expression changed into a bright smile as she waved to both you and her parents. She noticed you were wearing a Barca jersey. You smiled and turned to show her the back, her name and number on the back. 

Seeing you wearing her jersey meant the world to her. Some of her teammates had noticed Keira looking out into the crowd with nothing but love and noticed the sweet moment. Aitana threw her arm around Keira’s shoulder. “Extra motivation, no?” Keira nodded before she continued her warm ups with the team. 

By halftime it was clear that both teams really deserved to be in the final, both teams had chance after chance on goal. Still the full forty five minutes went by without any goals. Both teams were playing well. Keira was playing amazing, setting up many of the chances for her teammates. 

Then finally the deadlock was broken. Keira and Aitana were passing the ball back and forth and then Aitana ran off with it, walking the ball to the left side of the goal and hitting the back of the net. The crowd erupted in cheer as Barca took the lead. You were off your seat celebrating with the rest of the Barca fans. Keira’s name would go in the books for the assist, and you could not have been more proud of her in that moment. 

Of course, breaking the deadlock meant that Lyon started fighting back even harder. The stress of Lyon inching closer and the excitement of Barca almost scoring, made Tracy grab your hand. The back and forth between the teams was truly nerve wracking.

Keira had played a full ninety minutes when she got subbed off for Alexia, as well as Claudia coming on for Mariona. You clapped for them both, they had played an amazing match, and had both been big play makers.

Just four more minutes of added time on the clock. Again Barca moved forward with the ball. The three of you were on your feet as Claudia passed the ball to Ona. Ona got tackled to the ground but got up quickly again as she got the ball back. 

Tracy was squeezing your hand tight as Claudia got the ball back from Ona again. Claudia kept moving up with the ball, and sent the perfect assist to Alexia. Alexia hits the ball with her first contact and it flies into the back of the net.

The excitement of a second goal this late in the match had all three of you jumping into each other’s arms. They had done it. There was no way that Lyon was going to come back from a 2-0 deficit in less than two minutes. 

Every player and staff member on the bench was celebrating the goal from the sidelines. The moment your eyes met Keira’s, tears sprung into your eyes. Tracy puts her arm around you and pulls you into her side. 

Then finally the whistle blew and it was official. Barca won the Champions League. The whole team ran onto the pitch, forming one big huddle of excited champions, as the crowd around them went crazy. You hugged both her parents, all of you so proud of Keira and the team. 

You watched with pride as the girls got their medals, and lifted the trophy together. The happiness and pride on their faces, made the scene in front of you at least ten times better. 

Everywhere around you players brought their families and partners onto the pitch. When Keira noticed, she rushed towards your section. You had just helped Peter over the railing, when Keira fell into his arms. “You did it, my girl, I am so proud of you.” You heard him say, while you helped Tracy over the railing as well. 

She joined her husband and hugged her daughter tight. You watched the three have their moment with a smile on your face. This was exactly what Keira deserved. Not just the win, but the win accompanied by the love of her family. 

When she stepped out of the hug with her parents, she turned to you and held out her hand. You didn’t hesitate one moment, and reached for it. She helped you over the railings and once you were, she hugged you tight. “You were incredible. I am so proud of you.” You whispered into her ear as she held onto you. 

In the moment, all you cared about was celebrating with your girlfriend, her family, and her teammates. You were proud of her, and no amount of watching eyes was going to stop you from showing that.

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