#e-work arena

[hawksbacktattoo]

Forbidden | Sensei Wolf x Fem!Reader

Summary: As the Sekai Taikai began, someone catches readers attention

Warnings: p in v, unprotected sex, oral (f!receiving) choking, dirty talk, creamp!e

Word count: 2.2k

Not proof read

Today was the first day of the Sekai Taikai, everyone's nerves were all over the place. Your dojo had a lot riding on this opportunity and everyone could feel the tension.

Stepping into the arena, you taken in the sheer amount of dojos standing aside the mat. You had confidence in your students though, they trained hard to get to where they are now.

Feeling an arm drape over your shoulder, you look up to see your co-sensei Johnny Lawrence. You two have been running the dojo together  for a while. "Loosen up y/l/n, the beginning is the easiest part." He reassured, giving your a pat on the back before heading off to chat with the students.

Making sure everyone had what they needed, you stood beside Johnny as he gave the students a motivational speech. Telling them that as long as they set their mind to anything, they'll get through it. Ending it with, "Cobra Kai never dies." And a hoot from the students.

The announcer spoke into the mic introducing the other dojos: Cobra Kai, Hornet's Nest, Furia De Pantera, Tiger Strike, Miyagi-Do and the Iron Dragons. You look at each group as he calls out the name. Eyes locking onto the Sensei of the Iron Dragons.

You couldn't help but stare, the low gaze in his eyes, the way he held himself. Holy fvck he was the sexiest man you've ever laid eyes on. Blinking a few times, you look away. He was competition, there's no way that could ever work in this circumstance.

The first few rounds went seemingly well, Cobra Kai coming out with most the wins. The Iron Dragons were posing a threat though, especially Axel and Zara. Robby taking a pretty hard defeat by Axel.

You look up at the score board seeing that the two dojo's were tied as the games concluded for the day. Taking a glance over at the Sensei of the Iron Dragons, he was already looking your way with a sinister grin on his face. He shot you a cocky wink before following his students out of the arena.

Sending the students up to their hotel rooms, you decided to stop by the food court before heading up for the night. Plate in hand, you hum as you fill it with different foods. Smiling down at your full plate you turn to sit down but immediately run into someone, dropping everything.

"Sh!t sh!t sh!t, I am so sorry. I wasn't paying attention." You frantically apologize, bending down to scrape up the spilt food. "No need to apologize, accidents happen." He spoke, accent deep with each word. You slowly look up from the mess in your hands. With the same grin on his face from before, he held his hand out to help you up. Taking it, you gulp and break eye contact. "Oh, it's you." You cleared your throat, wiping down you clothes.

"Oh I'm hurt, didn't know pretty girls spoke so foul." He teased, a smile creeping at the corner of his lips. "Let's not do that." You stated, heart beating heavy in your chest. You knew it was better to keep your distance from him. Turning back to the buffet of food, you grab a new plate.

He followed close behind, replicating your actions. "No need to play hard to get, I'll get through to you eventually." He poked again, slapping a piece of steak onto his plate. "Calm your ego, I don't want you like that." Lie, a straight up lie. Every time he spoke your knees trembled beneath you.

"We'll see Miss Cobra." He whispered over your shoulder as he walked passed you and out to the dining room. This was gonna be a lot harder than you anticipated.

The next day came and everyone was ready for the qualifying matches. Stretching before it was time to head back into the arena. Johnny gave yet another one of his pep talks before the students jogged into the arena. There were many more people in the stands than the day before.

The announcer repeated the rules from the day before, then called up the first match. Tory versus Sam, the crowd was going wild as the two fought. Tory triumphantly taking the win in the long run. That's how the rest of the matches went until the last two teams were left, Cobra Kai and the Iron Dragons.

Rolling your eyes, you followed your team back to the hotel. They had a couple days of free time before the championship matches took place.

Deciding not to keep yourself coped up in your room, you showered and dressed up nicely to take a stroll around town. It was your first time in Barcelona so might as well take the chance to explore.

Bag draped over your shoulder, you strolled through the Picasso museum. The sculptures taking your attention overall. Smiling at the concrete silhouette in front of you. "This is one of my favorites as well." That deep accent took you by surprise once again. Looking to your side, there he stood again. Now dressed in more casual clothing, he looked even better now.

"Oh so you're stalking me now?" You cross your arms over your chest. "Don't flatter yourself, I've been to Barcelona often. This just happens to be one of my favorite museums in town." He clicked his tongue, shaking his head.

Humming to yourself, you continue walking through the museum. You can hear his footsteps not to far behind your own. Stopping, you turn to face him again. "Is there something you need?" You huffed, the more he's around you the harder it becomes to deny your attraction to him.

"You of course." There it is again, that damn grin. His gaze low as he drank up your appearance. You just stood there speechless, his words taking you by surprise. "That can't happen." You finally spoke, making a B line for the exit.

As soon as you step outside, he grabs your wrist turning you around. "Why are you so against it?" His brows were furrowed from the sun beaming in his face. "Wolf, were literally competing right now. How would that make me look if people knew I slept with the Sensei on the opposing team?" You pointed out, taking your arm from him.

"It can be out little secret." He whispered, bending down to your level. "And you can call my Xiao baby." You were becoming drunk on his words, he knew just the right thing to say. You fought a battle in your head whether to back away or let this man do unspeakably things to you. "Fvck it, why not." You gave in, a smirk creeping across his lips.

You let him go up to his hotel room first before following shortly after. Knocking on the door, it swung open and you were practically yanked into the man's room. The door clinked close and his hands were already all over you. Hands cupping your breast over your shirt while his lips devoured yours.

You run your hands across his toned torso, causing him to pull from the kiss and yank his shirt off in one swift move. Gaze falling to his bare upper half, you shiver at the sight. Everything about him was so damn sexy. "Enjoying the view?" He teases, grabbing your hands and slowly walking you back to his bed.

Falling back on the mattress, he pulls you down with him. Straddling his hips, he smiles up at you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before pulling you back down into a kiss. The way he held you felt so intimate, the way his fingers danced down your chest as he unbuttoned your blouse. Pulling it off without breaking the kiss.

He skillfully unbutton your bra in one go, throwing it to the side only to pull you closer. Your breast pressing against his bare chest sent shivers down your spine. "Let me treat your body right." He whispered in your ear before nibbling on it and pushing you to your back.

Kissing between your breast, he nipped at the flesh. "You deserve to be worshiped." He spoke against your stomach, tongue slicking down to the hem of the skirt you were wearing. His fingers hook into the sides of your skirt, slowly pulling the fabric down your legs while looking up at you.

Tossing it to the floor he kissed your pussy over the thin fabric of your lacey panties. Pushing your thighs further apart he nipped at your inner thighs as his fingers slipped past the thin fabric to feel your warmth. Looking back up at you, he took the top of the fabric between his teeth and pulled it down to your knees before fully pulling them off. Stuffing them into his pants pocket, he blows on your exposed cvnt causing you to shiver.

"No more teasing please, I need you Xiao." She mewed, bottom lip poking out in a pout. "Be patient princess, I want to savor every moment of this." His tone lowered just as he did between your thighs. Fingers gripping at the flesh when he began twirling his tongue over your cl!t. "mm yes.." you whine, hands flying down to grip onto his dark locs.

Tongue flattening over your cvnt, he gently sucked on your cl!t eyes gazing back up to you to watch how your body reacted to his touch. Your mouth was agape, eyes tightly shut as soft breathless moans escaped your lips.

He felt like heaven beneath you, every touch of his tongue to your cvnt making you want to scream out in bliss. Your eyes slowly open as you feel the bed dip beneath you. He was now hovering you, exposed completely.

Leaning back down to you, he pressed his lips back to yours, tongue slipping past your lips allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. You moaned into the kiss as he rubbed himself against your sensitive bundle of nerves.

Gripping the base of his cvck, he slowly pushed himself into you. You let out a breathless whimper as he bottoms out. "That's right, taking me so well pretty baby." He praised, hand falling to your hips as he swirled his hips inside you. Giving you time to adjust to him stretching you out.

Giving him a nod, he begins thrusting into you deep. He knew just how to make you feel like you were on cloud nine. Speed increasing as he loses himself to how good you feel. One hand gripping your throat, he began animalisticly pounding into you. Deep moans spewing from his pretty lips.

"god you feel so good." You moan through gritted teeth, hands reaching up to pull him down to you. "Yeah? You like that?" He chuckled against your nape as he litters it with little marks.

"Let me ride you please." You beg, hands gripping at the sheets beside you trying to keep yourself grounded as he slams into you. Without a detest, he stops his abvse to your pussy. Moving up to the head of the bed, sitting up against the head board.

His gaze was so strong, you trembled as you climb into his lap, face burning at how deep he looked into your eyes. Biting down onto your bottom lip, hands resting on his shoulder as you lower your self on to his girth. Growling as he feels you suck him in and bottom out. "Pvssy feels like it were made just for me." His fingers felt so hot against your skin as he help guide you up and down his length.

"fvck Xiao.." You moan picking up the speed as you bounce atop him, knees digging into the mattress as you steady yourself. You can hear the frame of the bed bang into the wall when his hips thrust up into you, meeting your pace. "You looks so pretty on top of me." He moaned, cvck twitching as he neared his release.

You could feel yours stirring in the pit of your stomach, lewd moans filling the room as your head falls to the side, fingers digging into his shoulders. He feels his climax about to hit, holds your hips still and fvcks up into you.

Your orgasm following shortly after just as you fall into his chest. Breathing heavy, you move forward just enough for him to slip out of you. "Might need a second round later." He chuckled, slapping your *ss when you stood from the bed.

"Don't get ahead of youself Wolf." Slipping back into your clothes, you lean over the edge of his bed, pecking his lips. "See you in the arena."

The two days went by quickly since you basically stayed in your room the entire time. You just didn't want anything further to happened between you and him.

Throwing on your gi, you meet with the students and sensei Lawrence. "Damn someone had a good time." Johnny laughed, lightly punching the girls shoulder. Furrowing your brows, you looked at him confused. "What are you talking about?" He stared at you dumbfounded. "Did you not check the mirror once before leaving your room? Your neck looks like you were attacked"

Gulping, you chuckled awkwardly pulling the top of your gi up a little more. Looking across the arena you see Wolf looking directly at you. An accomplished grin on his face.

'That cheeky little shit.' You thought to yourself, rolling your eyes at him.

[ellswritings]

Just Friends?

Jey Uso (Joshua Fatu) x Reader

TW: Kevin Owens is the bad guy (sorry KO lovers), best friends to lovers, tension, angry Jey, fluffy as heck.

I’ll be working on some more CM Punk and Cody Rhodes stuff this week 🫶🫶

Tags: @reebs-luvs-rhodes-and-wrestling

˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖✮----------------✮˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖

The buzz of the stadium makes Jey bounce higher than he ever thought he could. He stands in his corner of the ring as the crowd chants his name loudly, fueling his adrenaline like a burning inferno. His body is taut, muscles coiled tightly as he mentally prepares himself for the fight ahead.

Kevin Owens was a beast in the ring. He knew exactly what to say to get under people’s skin. How to stab them exactly where it hurts. To remove their focus from the match at hand, but he wouldn’t let him do that. He was ready.

He had his guard up. There was absolutely nothing Kevin could do to throw him off his game. Especially with the pep talk he got before he even walked out. A small smile graces his face, his gold grill flashing in the light as he thinks about how his long time best friend, Y/N L/N hyped him up before his match. Something the two of them made a habit of doing the moment they became friends.

It wasn’t always sunshine and rainbows for the two of them. They entered WWE around the same time, Jey and Jimmy being a tag team and Y/N entering as a new low-card fighter, desperate to work her way up. And she did… they all did.

Jey remembers their first interaction like it was yesterday.

She was walking backstage, that same newfound twinkle in her eye that all the upcoming people had. Everyone who thought they had exactly what it took to be a Superstar. Jey and Jimmy had already been signed for about a year when they saw her. She was walking through the halls, a clear mission she had to accomplish. Her bag was slung over her shoulder in a composed manner despite how fast she was moving. She wasn’t wearing sweats and a t-shirt like most of the other people who were backstage. She also wasn’t wearing spandex and a tank top like they had grown accustomed to seeing. She had a nice pair of sleek shamrock green slacks with a tight fitting long sleeved black top. She looked like one of the executives or writers that sometimes made guest appearances to talk to the wrestlers, which is why it made people’s heads turn when they saw her gym bag.

She had tunnel vision. Didn’t pay any mind to the people whispering as she walked past or the odd stares she got from the more experienced personnel. Everyone in the room was wondering the same thing.

Who’s the new girl?

Well, mostly everyone. Everyone except Jey, who was glancing down at his phone as he walked down the hallway with his brother. He hadn’t been watching where he was going which is what led to him colliding with the WWE’s future fourteen time women’s world champion. Not that any of them knew that quite yet.

“Aye yo, what the hell?” Jey says rather snippily, catching his device midair before it made its collision with the ground. When he finally looked up he was met with the most piercing e/c eyes. He took the chance to take in her form. She was beautiful. Sleek h/c hair that framed her face perfectly, perfectly glossed lips, nicely manicured eyebrows, and her figure filled out her outfit nicely. It was a shock to him that he hadn’t seen her prior to that moment. She had the build of one of the many Diva’s that walked through the arena. Like she had been a pro for years.

Y/N felt her temper flare slightly at the offended tone of the man who just rudely ran into her. She had been watching where she was going, something he couldn’t be bothered to do considering the phone in his hand. Part of her wanted to snap at his attitude, but she knew better than to make enemies on her first day. Not to mention, she didn’t have time for a confrontation. She was already late for her introduction meeting with the execs and writers that would be in charge of her character, Y/S/N’s, journey.

Instead she just smiles in a sickeningly sweet way, but the condescension of her tone gives away the subtext of what she’s saying. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Y’know, you should really look up from that every once in a while. Life might end up passing you by and you wouldn’t even know it.”

Or, it was your fault asshat, stop staring at your phone.

And with that she simply continued on her way. Jey felt like he had just been smacked in the face. He could tell by the way she said it she wasn’t actually sorry, but her confidence, the way she didn’t stutter when speaking to him, it was something he wasn’t used to. Most of the other women backstage are all over him and his twin, but not her. She didn’t even bat her eyelashes. Even the smile she sent them was fake.

Jimmy lets out a small laugh, “Yo, you keep staring at her like that you might burn holes into the back of her head.”

Jey doesn’t address the quip, he continues staring at the woman’s retreating form until she turns around a corner and disappears into the maze of tonight’s arena. He licks his lips, a habit he tends to have when he’s in thought. “Who is she?”

Jimmy furrows his eyebrows, “How the hell am I supposed to know? Met her the same time you did.” He shoves his brother playfully, “Nice job crashin’ into her by the way. And then the way you acted like it was her fault? Real smooth.”

“Bruh it was her fault. She wasn’t in front of me when I looked down,” Jey shoves him back, but not with as much force as he normally would. His mind is still reeling about the fact she didn’t even stare at him for longer than five seconds. It freaked him out. She brushed him off like a tiny fly that wouldn’t stop buzzing around her head.

“Right…” Jimmy nods mockingly. “ ‘Cause you walking around with your nose in yo phone is what caused her to appear out of thin air.”

“Man, shut the hell up,” Jey rolls his eyes, continuing down the hallway and towards the locker room. Though he would be lying if he said he didn’t turn around to glance back at where he had just bumped into the strange woman.

It would be later that same day that he would be introduced to Y/N L/N. An absolute warrior in the ring. She was an instant hit with practically everyone. She seemed to have made a phenomenal first impression. Even people who typically kept to themselves gravitated towards her. And truthfully, Jey even found himself being sort of drawn to her personality. She was funny, charismatic, and calm. She was oddly level headed compared to the rest of the wrestlers backstage. She brought a different energy to the back that they didn’t see very often.

Josh kept his eyes trained on her, his head tilted as he analyzes her movements. She’s talking rather animatedly to AJ Lee with a wide smile on her face. Part of him feels guilty for reacting the way that he did when they originally met. His conscience subtly eats away at him, urging him to find a way to apologize.

He runs a hand over his face, sighing as his feet begin to carry him over to her before his mind can protest. His step falters when the sound of her laugh floats through the air like a soothing melody. He can’t help the small grin that covers his lips. How is it possible someone he’s never met is capable of making him smile simply by giggling. It makes him furrow his brows in confusion.

Y/N glances over AJ’s shoulder, her face falling slightly when she notices the man who bumped into her earlier. AJ notices her change in expression, looking behind her to see an awkward looking Jey Uso. She pats Y/N’s shoulder with a small grin, “Good luck with that,” she mumbles before walking away.

Y/N huffs out a small chuckle before turning her full attention to the man in front of her. She folds her arms over her chest, not in a malicious way that indicates she doesn’t want to talk, almost as a way to protect herself. She smirks, “I see you took my advice.”

Jey frowns, not expecting her to be the one to have started the conversation. “What?”

“You stopped looking down at your phone,” she points out, trying not to sound smug. “That’s good. It’d be unfortunate if you walked into somebody else.”

Jey’s taken aback by her forwardness. She wasn’t as forward casting her blame when it originally happened. Perhaps now that she’s more settled in, she won’t be as dismissive. It’s odd. He doesn’t feel defensive like he normally would. In fact, he kind of likes how cut and dry she is.

“Yeah…” he chuckles softly. “I actually wanted to come and apologize about that.” Y/N raises her eyebrows, surprised he had the courage to come and say sorry to her. Most wouldn’t. “I should’ve been watching where I was goin’. But y’know how it is with the phones and everything. Gets ya sucked in.”

Y/N’s posture visibly relaxes, her full smile returning. He’s easy to talk to… and not too bad to look at. She wouldn’t tell him that though. Judging by the half smirk he’s so good at sporting, she could already tell that comment would go to his head.

“Yeah, I get it,” she nods. “It’s easy to get lost in it sometimes. But just don’t forget to look up every once and awhile. It’s good for you,” she jests playfully. “Never know what you’re missing.”

Jey, feeling bold, takes a small step forward. Y/N has to crane her neck up slightly took look at him, his stature towering over hers, but she doesn’t move. Simply maintains eye contact and keeps her smile steady. “Y’know, you say that… but the way I see it, me having my nose in my phone led to me meeting you.” He points out. “So what am I really missing?”

“Smooth,” she says with an impressed tone. “But maybe we would’ve met under better circumstances where I didn’t think you were a complete asshole,” she counters just as prickly as he was slick.

“You think I’m an asshole now?” He tilts his head challengingly.

“Not necessarily.”

“Then I think the circumstances worked out well.” His smile is infuriating yet hypnotizing at the same time. Y/N wants to argue with him, but she can see the mischievous glint behind his eyes. He wants a reaction. And maybe she’ll give him one… just not one he’s expecting.

Y/N takes another good step forward, sticking her hands out to mess with the invisible wrinkles on his muscle shirt. Jey feels a certain electricity in her touch, lighting his body on fire. How is it possible to be so mysterious yet enticing? They just met and he already wants to know everything about her.

“That pretty smile might get you a lot… but not my attention.” And with that, she removes her hands, spins on her heel, and walks away. “Catch you later, Jey.”

Jey is more than stunned to say the least. That’s when he realizes, “Wait, I never told you my name!” He calls out confused.

Y/N turns around, now walking backwards with a smile on her face, “You really think I’d come to work for a place without doing research on the talent that’s already here?”

From that moment on, Jey made it his personal mission to get to know Y/N. She never made it easy, but he managed to worm his way into her heart, becoming her best friend within the entire company. Even though he annoyed her to no end pretty much every time they spoke, she loved him. They never lost that playful banter they had the first day they met.

While they were always playful, it wasn’t until he was having anxieties over an upcoming match that he realized how much of an emotional connection they had. He was pacing in the guys locker room when he heard the door creak open. He was half expecting Jimmy to walk in and scold him for still being in there when they’re next up, but he was surprised to see Y/N.

“Figured I’d find you in here,” she says with that signature smile that never fails to ease his nerves.

He doesn’t respond, just continues pacing back and forth. This match tonight means everything to him and Jimmy. Them winning means they’re finally working their way up. They had been on a losing streak recently due to story purposes, but tonight would finally be their ticket out of that. He has to put on a good show tonight.

His attention is pulled back to the real world when he feels her hand on his bicep, her grip soft and tender. Her e/c eyes boring into his, making the storm in his mind calm for a moment. “Hey… what’s goin’ on, Josh?” She asks softly. “What’s on your mind?”

The sound of his real name rolling of her tongue so easily makes his stomach flutter in ways he’s not used to. Recently he’s been having a hard time being around her without feeling like he’s got a swarm of butterflies wreaking havoc inside of him. He doesn’t know why or when it started, but it’s getting more difficult to control.

“Nothin’,” he shrugs her off, avoiding eye contact but not moving away from her touch. “ ‘M fine.”

Y/N frowns, the crease in her eyebrows as adorable as it always is. She forces Jey to look at her by using her pointer finger to turn his head towards her, “The hell you looking away from me for?”

Josh can see the genuine concern in her eyes and he already feels his resolve cracking. She’s always been able to read him far too easily. Not that he makes it hard. She’s told him since they met that he wore his heart on his sleeve.

She quirks an eyebrow, patiently waiting for him to answer. He sighs in defeat, “ ‘M sorry, Ma,” he apologizes, running a hand over his face. “I’m just stressed out.”

“About the match?” She tilts her head.

He lets out a small scoff, “Yeah.” He exhales heavily, moving to sit down on one of the many benches. “It’s daunting as hell. This is a huge crossroads for Jon and I. I mean, what if I mess it up? What if I forget my lines, or–or fuck up a move and hurt someone else or myself? What if the execs got something planned that they didn’t tell us about? There’s so much shit that could go wrong here.”

Y/N follows after him, sitting down as well. “Why are you talking like everything bad has already happened? You’re acting like you two already lost the match.”

“I’m not actin’ like anything,” he says, his tone becoming a bit defensive. “This shit ain’t easy, Y/N/N. You only gotta worry ‘bout yourself when you go out there. I’ve got a brother I gotta think about. If I mess up, I screw him over.”

Y/N stays silent for a moment, nodding her head as she takes in his words. She tilts her head, finally looking at him, “Y’know… I never pegged you as a whiny loser.”

Josh’s head snaps towards her, “What’d you just say to me?”

“I never thought of you as a whiny loser,” she repeats. “Maybe a whiny winner, but not a loser,” she adds with a small toothless grin. Jey can't help but scoff, looking away from her with an offended expression. Y/N sighs, once again forcing him to look at her again. “Josh, you’re not gonna mess up,” she tells him confidently. “You and Jon have been busting your asses for practically your entire lives to get to this point. You know what you’re doing. I mean, you guys were born to do this. You guys deserve this win. You deserve it.”

Josh’s eyes soften at her words. The way she says it, she really does believe in him. Maybe even more than he believes in himself. His eyes flicker over her face and there truly is no doubt seeping out of any part of her. She means it. “You’re a winner, Josh. You’re whiny,” she giggles softly, “but you’re a winner. So you have nothing to be worried about.” She shifts her body to fully face him, criss-crossing her legs on the bench. She grabs his hand, lacing their fingers together. “You’re amazing at what you do, you need to start believing that.”

Instead of arguing, Josh simply leans forward, wrapping his arms around his best friend's body. He breathes in her body wash, the scent of it fogging his brain the same way it always does. She trails her fingers up and down his back, forcing any negative thoughts that were lingering to disappear completely.

And because of that pep talk, Jey Uso went out and won that match. She was right. He needs to start believing in himself the same way she does. But that one conversation started a very important pre-match tradition for the two of them. After that day, anytime they were nervous or had a huge match coming up, they would go out of their way to boost each other’s confidence. It was important, it kept them going when times were tough. Those small little motivational things helped them be better. Made them aspire to be more, which is how they became two of the biggest Superstars in the WWE.

That’s why he is where he’s at right now. In the ring, waiting for Kevin Owens to walk out so they can start their match. Jey wasn’t nervous for this fight, but for whatever reason, Y/N still felt the need to boost his confidence, his morale. It made him mentally smile thinking about all the positive things she said about him before he came out there.

Y/N truly is his biggest supporter aside from Jimmy. She’s the last one to be with him before he heads out and the first one to congratulate or console him when he comes back, and he loves her for it.

The two of them have been friends for over a decade now. She’s been there with him through plenty of ups and downs, and he’s been there for her. He’s seen her go through heartbreaks, triumphs, losses, wins, all of it. She quickly became family. He doesn’t even remember what holiday’s with his family look like without her anymore. She’s an integral part of his life. But over time, those feelings of friendship evolved into something more.

Everyone in the locker room, besides Y/N, could see it. The way his eyes travel across any room in search of her, the way he smiles whenever she speaks, the way he’s always the first to rush out when she wins a big match, how protective he is of her, how his jaw clenches whenever he sees her speaking to a guy who isn’t him or someone in his family. It’s clear as day how he feels, and no one understands why he hasn’t confessed yet.

It’s simple.

He can’t lose her. He’s terrified if he were to tell her, she wouldn’t reciprocate it. That she might become uncomfortable and over ten years of friendship would be flushed down the drain. He can’t risk that, which is why he’s been content being just her friend. Her best friend.

That’s when KO’s entrance theme rings throughout the arena. The lights are bright, blinding him for a split second but he keeps his face stoic. The crowd’s reaction was instant—half boos, half cheers, the chaotic blend only making Jey’s muscles tense even more. But he didn’t look up right away. He couldn’t. He needed to stay focused. He needed to keep his emotions in check.

“I’ve got this,” Jey muttered to himself, shaking his head. “Focus.”

But then Kevin emerged, strolling down the ramp with his usual cocky swagger. He had his usual sneer plastered on his face, taking his time like he had all the confidence in the world. Jey’s eyes narrowed, but his fists were still clenched tightly, controlling the rush of anger that was starting to bubble up inside him.

And then Jey saw it.

Kevin stopped mid-step, practically taunting him with his choice of attire—wearing Y/N’s merch.

Her iconic symbol covers his chest as he smirks. It’s a replica of the shirt Y/N wore earlier in the week for her promo with Rhea Ripley for their tag team match against Liv Morgan and Raquel Rodriguez. Her shirt was cropped and framed her perfectly. Josh even remembers complimenting how great she looked backstage to a couple of the guys as they watched from the monitor.

Kevin must’ve heard and capitalized on it.

Normally his heart skips a beat whenever he sees that symbol, but seeing it on Kevin makes Jey’s blood run cold. The arrogance in Kevin’s posture, the way he raised his shirt slightly, acting like it was his, the smirk on his face as he caught Jey’s glare—it was all too much.

He knows his face is now a bright red. He can feel himself snarling before he’s able to control himself. Kevin has always been a loudmouth, always finding ways to anger his opponents, but this? This felt personal. This is a line that’s being crossed, one that he can’t ignore.

Kevin easily spots the change in Jey’s demeanor and enjoys every second of his anger. He walks closer to the ring, microphone in hand as he grins from ear to ear. He looks Jey up and down, “What’s the matter, Uso?” His voice is dripping with mock sweetness. “Is it the shirt? You don’t like it? I thought it was pretty stylish. Looks good on me, no?”

Jey’s nostrils flared, his gaze locked on the symbol, and the way Kevin was practically flaunting it. His grip on the ropes tightened until his knuckles were white. His whole body stiffened as a tidal wave of anger surged through him. He hadn’t even realized how hard he was breathing until his chest tightened with the overwhelming rush of emotions. Every word, every taunt from Kevin, was a strike that cut deeper than Jey was willing to admit.

Kevin wasn’t done. He took another step forward, clearly feeding off the tension building between them. “I’m sure Y/N would appreciate a real winner repping her merch. A real man.” His voice is laced with insincerity.

Jey’s body was practically vibrating with fury, every muscle in his frame coiled like a spring ready to snap. His grip on the ropes was so tight his fingers ached, but he didn’t care. All he could focus on was Kevin, standing there, smirking like he had all the control in the world.

Kevin tilted his head, letting the tension simmer before he struck again. “See, that’s the thing about you, Uce. You live your whole damn life like some kind of joke. Like some circus monkey, doing tricks for everyone else. Dancing when you’re told, laughing when they say so. You act tough, but you ain’t real.” He gestured toward the symbol on his shirt again, twisting the knife deeper. “And Y/N? She deserves real. She deserves a man who’s actually serious about her, about himself. Not some whiny bitch too afraid to be honest with her. Too afraid to be his own man.”

Jey’s jaw clenched so tightly it hurt. His breathing was heavy, each breath coming out in sharp bursts as Kevin continued to run his mouth. His vision tunneled, the edges of his sight going hazy with rage.

“You don’t know a damn thing about me or Y/N,” Jey seethed.

Kevin chuckled, shaking his head. “Oh, but I do. I know she’s got more fire in her pinky than you do in your whole body. I know she needs someone who won’t second-guess himself every step of the way. She deserves better than some broken man too scared to stand on his own.”

Jey snapped.

With a guttural growl, he lunged at Kevin, but just as he did—

Y/N’s music hit.

The crowd erupted as she charged down the ramp, her entire focus locked onto Jey. She barely even registered Kevin as she slid into the ring. She didn’t care about him. The only thing she cared about was the man she cares about, her best friend, the man she loves more than anything, the one standing there on the verge of losing himself.

“Jey,” she breaths, stepping right up to him, hands reaching out to touch his face, his chest—anything to ground him. “Hey, look at me,” her voice is demanding yet soothing, forcing his eyes to meet hers instead of glaring at Kevin. “You’re okay. I’m here.” Her hands feel soft against his cheeks, the chaos from the outside fading away for just a moment. He can see the concern in her eyes and it makes his chest ache. “Don’t get yourself disqualified just because he likes to run his mouth.

“Y/N–”

“No,” she cuts him off. “You don’t need to be angry because I’m here. I’m here with you. I’ve got your back.”

Jey’s chest rose and fell rapidly, his eyes searching hers, finding something solid in them. Something real. The fire Kevin said he didn’t have—Y/N saw it. She always had.

But Kevin wasn’t done.

“You know what? Let’s make this interesting,” he smirked, looking between them. “When I win tonight, Y/N—you’re gonna be standing at ringside with me from now on.”

Jey feels himself about to fly off the handle again. He goes to brush past at/N so he can manhandle the man standing across from them, but before he could even take a full step forward, Y/N was superkicking the soul out of Kevin Owens.

The impact echoed through the arena, and Kevin dropped like a sack of bricks, sprawling onto the mat. The crowd exploded as Y/N glared down at him, fists clenched. “I’m not some damn prize to be traded,” she snapped.

Jey’s lips parted in shock, but before he could say anything, Y/N turned to him, cupping his face gently. She pressed a soft kiss to his temple, grounding him once more. “I’m behind you,” she whispered. “Always.”

Jey nodded, rolling his shoulders as the official stepped in to signal the start of the match. Kevin groggily pushed himself up, shaking out the cobwebs. The bell rang and Jey wasted no time.

He exploded forward, slamming into Kevin with a flurry of strikes, his pent-up frustration manifesting in every punch, every chop. Kevin staggered but fought back, catching Jey with a hard right and an Irish whip into the corner. Jey crashed against the turnbuckle, but when Kevin ran at him—Jey caught him with a big boot to the face.

Kevin stumbled back, and Jey climbed the ropes, launching off with a diving crossbody. Kevin rolled through, hoisting Jey up, and with a burst of power, slammed him down with a gutwrench suplex. The air was forced from Jey’s lungs as Kevin went for the pin— 1… 2… Kickout!

Jey clutched his ribs but pushed himself up. Kevin, ever the opportunist, delivered a nasty senton to Jey’s back, then locked in a chinlock, trying to wear him down.

“Come on, Uce,” Kevin taunted, yanking back harder. “Where’s that fight?”

Jey gritted his teeth, the words fueling him rather than breaking him. He fought to his feet, delivering sharp elbows to Kevin’s gut until he was free. He hit the ropes, came flying back—Superkick!

Kevin stumbled. Another superkick!

Jey saw his opening. He climbed the top rope, the crowd on their feet—Uso Splash!

1… 2… Kevin kicks out!

Y/N’s hands clenched at ringside, her eyes never leaving Jey. “Come on, baby,” she whispers, ignoring the pet name that just naturally slipped out.

Jey ran a hand down his face, frustration mounting, but he couldn’t let up now. He pulled Kevin to his feet, but Kevin shoved him off and caught him with a Pop-Up Powerbomb!

Jey’s body crashed onto the mat.

Kevin hooked the leg—

1… 2… Jey kicked out!

Kevin slammed the mat in frustration before hauling Jey up again, setting up for the Stunner. He went for it, but Jey managed to counter.

He spun Kevin around—Superkick! Kevin wobbles around which opens up an opportunity for Jey. Another superkick! And then—Jey hit the ropes, rebounding at full speed—Spear! The impact rattled the ring as Kevin folded over.

Jey crawled over, draping an arm over him.

1… 2… 3!

Jey Uso wins!

The arena erupted as Jey sat up, chest heaving. The official raised his hand, but before he could even process it, Y/N was in the ring. She rushed to him, grabbing his face with both hands, eyes shining with nothing but pride, “You did it.”

Jey, still catching his breath, managed a small, exhausted smirk. Y/N stood up, grabbing his wrist and raising his hand herself, standing beside him as the victor. Kevin was down. Jey was standing tall. And Y/N? She was right there with him, where she always belonged.

After the chaos of everything, the two of them went backstage with beaming grins on their faces. Y/N cheered from the side as she allowed everyone else to celebrate Jey’s big win. Her eyes sparkle with pride as she watches him get the attention he deserves. He’s not ‘Main Event’ Jey Uso for nothing. He earned this win the same way he earns everything: With hard work and dedication.

Once the crowd started to dwindle down, Jey shook hands and hugged the remaining individuals before turning his attention back towards his best friend. He zeroes in on her still smiling face and he doesn’t understand how her cheeks don’t hurt by now.

“Whatchu lookin’ at, huh?” He says playfully, slinging his arm around her shoulder, hugging her closely to his frame.

Instead of having a sarcastic quip ready, her eyes remain soft, “You,” she answers simply.

The tenderness of her voice catches him off guard for a second. That same fluttering feeling in his stomach arises as she stares at him like he’s the only thing in her world. He recognizes it because it’s the same way he looks at her.

The air between them shifts from light and celebratory to serious and loving. There’s still a sense of happiness, playfulness, like there always is, but it’s accompanied by something more this time.

“Why, hm?” He dips his head down so he can talk to just her, no one else. “Why you lookin’ at me like that?”

She hums quietly, “I’m just so proud of you,” she admits in an almost whisper. “That’s all.” Jey feels his heart beat skyrocket for a moment as he sees the genuine pride in her features. “Kevin doesn’t know what he’s talking about… I’ve never seen someone fight with more fire than you.”

“I don’t know, ma…” Jey says with a grin. “You might have me beat there. Your superkick nearly took his damn head off.”

Y/N giggles softly, “Well, we already knew I was better than you,” she jests.

Jey scoffs affectionately, “Yeah, yeah,” he rolls his eyes. “You a brat you know that?”

“Only to you,” she fires back. Another moment of silence passes between them and Y/N watches Josh’s expression shift. She tilts her head, “Now you’re the one lookin’ at me all weird,” she pokes his chest. “You okay?”

He lets out a breath, running a hand over his face, “I don’t know…” he admits quietly. He looks hesitant to admit whatever he’s thinking about.

“Talk to me,” she encourages. “What’s on your mind?”

“I just… I know I almost lost it out there,” he says. “I couldn’t keep my cool. Could’ve been real bad if you didn’t show up when you did.”

Y/N shakes her head, “Josh, you were fighting for yourself. You didn’t do anything wrong. Your temper just made you fight harder. And you won.”

Jey swallows hard, his throat tight. He looks down at her, searching her face, and suddenly all the words he has been holding back—the feelings, the frustration, the need—came rushing out.

“I wasn’t just fighting for me,” he tells her honestly. “I was fighting for you, to protect your name, who you are. I hate hearin’ people talk about you like you’re some possession,” he confessed, his voice rough. “Like you’re just something to be won.” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “You’re more than that. You’re—you’re everything, Y/N.”

Her lips parted slightly, surprise flickering across her face, but she didn’t interrupt him.

“I don’t just lose control because of what they say,” he continued, stepping closer. “I lose control because I care about you. So damn much.”

Y/N sucked in a quiet breath.

Jey reached up, running a hand down his face before letting out a soft, almost breathless laugh. “I don’t even know how to act right when it comes to you. I feel like I can’t think straight. I don’t know how to be just your friend when everything in me wants more.”

Y/N didn’t say anything at first. Instead, she just reached up, her fingers threading into his mullet with a kind of tenderness that made Jey’s chest ache.

His breath hitched. He had been touched before, but this? This was different. This was her.

Her other hand came up to his cheek, and then—before he could even process it—she leaned in and pressed the softest, most deliberate kiss against his lips.

Jey exhaled against her, his hands instinctively coming to rest on her waist, pulling her closer, like he had been waiting for this forever.

When she finally pulled back, her forehead rested against his, her fingers still tangled in his hair.

“I care about you too, Jey,” she murmured. “I always have…”

Jey closed his eyes, letting himself breathe her in, letting the moment settle between them. His thumb traced slow circles against her hip. “Yeah?” he murmured, his voice lower now, more vulnerable.

Y/N smiled. “Yes, you dummy,” she giggles.

He rolls his eyes once more, “Girl, you better watch yo mouth,” he smiles endearingly, leaning back down to connect their lips. He can feel her smiling against him and everything seems to fall into place.

For the first time in a long time, Josh felt like he had won something that actually mattered. And he wasn’t letting it go.

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Foxglove Downs Chapter 1: The Stallion

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x Lucius Verus x Female Reader Rating: Teen. (Eventual E. MDNI) Summary: As owner of Foxglove Downs, the prestigious stables and training grounds where world-renowned show jumpers Marcus Acacius and Lucius Verus practice, you find yourself caught between the two rivals, pulled into a world of fierce competition and unspoken desires. Warnings: Love triangle, horse talk, jealousy, pining, almost kissing, flirting, age gap (Marcus is in his 40’s, Lucius is in his 20’s). Reader is in her 30's, has hair, and has a nickname: Sunny. Words: 3,500

Foxglove Downs Masterlist Masterlist

A/N: I'm excited to start sharing this story with you. It's been rattling around in my brain for the past couple of weeks. This all started, as always, with @ohheypedrito and I talking about Marcus and Lucius. Thank you to @schnarfer for the show jumping idea when I mentioned how badly I wanted Marcus and Lucius to be rivals. Also, the biggest thank you to @devineconjuring who can not only translate my terrible typed messages to her... but also be the best beta who makes my writing 1000000x better.

—-

Standing at the edge of the training arena, a gentle breeze from the rolling hills surrounding Foxglove Downs sends a chill across your skin.

These stables have always felt like a second home to you. Every day, you'd make the short walk down the sloping hill from your home to your favorite place, Foxglove Downs–the world-class stables your family has owned for decades. This is where your parents ran their prize business, passing down their love for horses and hard work to you. From a young age, they entrusted you with tasks like mucking out stalls, filling water troughs, and assisting with feedings. While other kids played video games and watched TV, you’d spent every spare moment watching the horses being trained and groomed, eagerly listening to and learning from the experienced employees. 

It was always evident that you’d follow in their footsteps. Horse riding was not just a hobby for you–it was a way of life, a passion that runs deep in your blood. After all, both of your parents were accomplished equestrians themselves, making horseback riding feel like second nature to you since before you could walk.

But professional riding was not the path that you took. Now an accomplished horse breeder, you also own Foxglove Downs. Passed down to you by your parents once they decided to retire, you happily spend your days caring for your beloved horses and overseeing the prestigious breeding and training operations. This is truly your idea of heaven.

Especially when the two hottest champion equestrians call your arena their practice grounds.

The sound of hooves hitting the ground echoes across the field. Blocking the late afternoon sun from your eyes, you watch as world champion show jumper Marcus Acacius glides his horse over a series of jumps. For such a large and intimidating force, his grace and ease are on full display as he and his horse easily clear each obstacle. Watching the way Marcus guides his horse through a trickier series of jumps, you find it hard to believe that he’d come from such humble beginnings.

“He’s pushing it today,” you whisper to yourself, noticing the tension in Marcus’s shoulders. The wooden fence is rough against your hands as you lean into it further to watch him as he nears where you stand.

His horse clips the top rail of the final jump, sending the pole clattering to the ground. You frown, watching as he circles back, his face set in frustration.

“Ouch.” A familiar voice catches your attention.

Turning, you see Lucius Verus, Marcus’s main rival. Casually leaning against the fence, his blue eyes twinkling with the mischief he’s famous for.

“Be nice,” you reply with a smirk. “Never seen anyone better.”

He moves closer with an air of superiority, clutching his chest in mock offense. His confidence on full display, that of someone who has never faced any type of hardship in his life thanks to his family’s wealth and status. “You wound me. And here I thought you had an eye for talent.”

You laugh, the sound carrying across the grounds. “I do… but that’s why I breed the horses and leave the jumping to you two.”

“So, what are you doing down here?”

“He asked me to be here,” you gesture towards Marcus. “He wants my opinion on his new filly.”

“Is that what it takes for me to get your attention?”

“Yep. That, or cooking me pasta alla vodka.”

“I can't cook. But I do know a great restaurant. Let me take you there,” he offers, angling more towards you.

You let out a laugh, tilting your head back. “Really? Again, it’s not going to happen. Just like the last five times you asked.”

Lucius–the ever-consummate flirt–leans in closer, his voice low. “Ah, yes. This is when you tell me to open up my phone and dial a random hookup.”

You straighten your posture, locking eyes with him. “Feel free to do so.”

“But there’s no fun in that. Especially when the prize is so… beautiful.” His eyes look you up and down.

"I’m not just another trophy to be won, Verus.”

“Oh, I know,” he whispers, now close enough for you to feel his breath.

Before you can retort, the sound of hoofbeats grows louder. Marcus brings his horse to a stop near the fence, dismounting with fluid grace. His dark eyes flick between you and Lucius as you take a small step, giving yourself some space. A slight frown creases his brow, no doubt having noticed your interaction.

"Sunny," he nods in greeting, then turns to Lucius. "Verus. I didn't expect to see you here."

“Looking good out there, Acacius,” Lucius praises, a slight edge to his voice.

Marcus sends him a singular nod before looking over to you. Your breath hitches at the sight of him–the sun highlighting the silver streaks in his hair, his denim shirt stretching across the muscles of his broad shoulders.

“It’s always good to see Barley again,” you smile, admiring Marcus’s trusty stallion you have worked with since he was a foal. “He moves like a dream.”

Marcus's lips quirk into a rare smile. “He does. He’s perfect.” You feel the heat creep up your neck as his eyes don’t leave yours.

“Well, Sunny,” Lucius interrupts your thoughts, his voice low, his Irish accent alluring. “Another satisfied customer, hm?”

His smirk and wink make your heart race, his eyes lit with playful mirth.

Rolling your eyes at his comment, you can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips. “I aim to please.”

Marcus clears his throat, drawing your attention back to him. “The filly’s in the stables if you want to go take a look.”

“Of course,” you nod. As you turn to follow Marcus, you’re stopped by Lucius’s hand on your arm.

“Don’t forget about our dinner plans tonight, darling,” he says. You raise an eyebrow at him. “Still never called anybody. I’m free tonight.”

You pull your arm away and chuckle. “And you’ll continue to be.”

As you walk away with Marcus, you can feel Lucius’s eyes on you.

Tension seems to roll off Marcus as he leads you to the stables. 

“So,” you say to him, trying to focus on business. “What did you want to discuss about the filly?”

"I’ve been watching her. She’s got potential, but her left hind leg…”

As he walks into the stables, you watch the way he moves. Confident and graceful, yet so broad and strong.

“Have you tried adjusting her shoeing?” Your mind works through possible solutions as you pass by horses nickering softly. 

He shakes his head as he comes to a stop outside a stall, where a beautiful chestnut filly pokes her head over the door.

“Not yet. I wanted your opinion first,” he says softly. “This is Daisy.”

You reach out, stroking the filly’s velvet nose. She snuffles in your hand, looking for a treat. “Smart move. Let’s take a look at her movement.”

Marcus leads the horse out into the aisle. His strong hands handle the young horse gently. The filly prances, eager to be out of her enclosure, and Marcus smiles as she nuzzles his shoulder.

“Easy, girl,” his deep voice soothes.

You watch as he walks her up and down the aisle, your trained eye catching the slight hitch in her left hind leg. Barely noticeable to anybody else but you and Marcus.

“I see what you mean. It’s subtle,” you say, biting your lower lip in concentration. You move closer, running your hand down the horse’s leg. “It could become a problem. Let’s take her outside. I want to see her move on the arena ground.”

He guides the filly out into one of the smaller practice grounds.

“Let’s see her trot.”

Marcus nods, urging the filly into a smooth trot. Her hooves kick up small clouds of dust as she moves. You watch intently, noticing every nuance.

“There,” you point. “I see it.”

He brings Daisy to a halt, his brows furrowed in concentration. “What do you think?” he asks, his voice laced with concern.

You approach the two of them. “Here, feel this,” you say, rubbing your hand along her hip. “There’s tension in the muscle.”

He reaches over, his large hand brushing against yours as he feels the spot. His brows furrow in concentration, trying to locate what you feel.

“I’m not sure I…” he begins, his confused voice trailing off.

You place your hand over his without thinking, guiding it along Daisy’s flank. Something sparks against your skin when it presses on his, sending a shiver down your spine. Your hand looks so small above his large one.

“Do you feel that?” you ask softly, pressing his fingers gently into the muscle. “There’s a slight knot here. I think that’s causing her to favor.”

He leans closer, his chest nearly meeting your back as he concentrates. You can feel his warm, steady breath on your neck–it heats your body, a feeling for him that you’ve been trying to push away revealing itself.

Daisy shifts, causing you to stumble slightly.

Marcus's strong arm instinctively wraps around your waist to steady you.

"Careful," he whispers, his deep voice rumbling through you.

Your head turns to thank him, but the words catch in your throat. He’s so close, his face mere inches away from yours. From this distance, you can see the flecks of gold shine through the dark of his eyes.

He glances down at your lips for a moment before meeting your eyes again.

You clear your throat, stepping back slightly.

“Thanks,” you manage to say, your voice breathless.

He nods, his hand lingering on your waist a beat longer before dropping away.

“No problem,” he says, his voice gruffer than usual.

You take a deep breath, trying to steel your nerves.

“So… it’s not as bad as I feared. I think targeted massage sessions and stretching exercises could help. Maybe adjust her shoeing too, just to be safe."

Relief washes over his face. “Good to hear. Was worried we might have to retire her before she even got started.”

You smile at his obvious care for the horse.

You feel Marcus’s eyes on you as you continue to examine the horse and coo softly as she nuzzles your hand.

“Other than that, she’s perfect,” you admire, turning to him.

“She is,” he says, his eyes focused on you.

—-

“Great future ahead of her,” you say, breaking the silence as you and Marcus lead Daisy back to the stables.

He nods. “Thanks to your expertise.”

The warmth in his voice sends a flutter through your heart, and you quickly look away, focusing on the path ahead. Approaching the stables, movement in the nearby arena catches your eye. Lucius is there, leading his horse over a series of jumps as they move in perfect rhythm. You stop in your tracks when Lucius’s blue eyes meet yours and he flashes you a smile.

Marcus realizes your pause, turning towards you. Lucius’s eyes shift to Marcus, his expression faltering for a moment, eyes narrowing slightly. He brings his horse to a halt, patting its neck as he watches you both. Even from this distance, you can see the tightness in his jaw and the slight furrow of his brow.

You nod towards him, offering a slight smile before heading for the stables. The air between you and Marcus tenses again. The rest of the walk is silent, save for the sound of hoof and boot steps.

You can feel his eyes on you as you open the horse’s stall.

After a long silence, Marcus clears his throat and asks directly, "How did Lucius do out there?"

You turn to face him, surprised by the question. His eyes search your face for any hint of your thoughts.

“He’s… talented,” you admit carefully. “So are you.”

Marcus nods, his expression unreadable as he leads the filly into her stall. He secures the latch, then turns to face you, his dark eyes intense.

"Lucius is flashy," he says, his voice low.

You raise an eyebrow at his comment. “Flashy, huh?”

He slowly nods. “All style, very little room for substance. He’s good, just… all about the show.”

“I guess everyone has their own style. I’d say you have a certain style that works well for you, too.”

A small smile lifts the corner of his lips. “High praise.”

You laugh, the sound easing some of the tension. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

With one last pat against the horse’s neck, Marcus closes the stall door and turns towards you, closer than you expected.

“I really appreciate you looking her over.”

“Of course. It’s my job to make sure they’re in top form.”

He takes a step closer. “You’re the best around.” His voice turns soft. “Truly.”

Stuttering, you try to find the words, overwhelmed by how close and handsome he is. You clear your throat, taking a step back from him.

"Well, I should probably get going. It's getting late."

Marcus nods, his expression unreadable. "Of course. Thank you again for your help."

As you turn to leave, Lucius enters the stables, leading his horse. His eyes flick between you and Marcus, a hint of tension in his shoulders.

“Heading out so soon?" Lucius asks.

You nod, offering a small smile. “Got some paperwork waiting for me back at the clubhouse.”

“The glamorous life of a horse breeder,” Lucius teases.

“Someone’s gotta do it,” you shrug noncommittally, trying to dissipate some of the growing tension. “I’ll see you guys later.”

As you make your way towards the stables’ exit, you feel both men’s eyes on you.

The gravel crunches beneath your boots, and you can’t help but look back. You catch a glimpse of Marcus and Lucius, their heads bent close in conversation.

Two men, both the top competitors in their field, always pitted against each other. The young and brash Lucius Verus, with his charming smile and devil-may-care ways, versus the dependable champion Marcus Acacius, with his quiet intensity. 

And you. Trapped in the midst of their rivalry, both in and out of the arena.

You shake your head, attempting to knock those thoughts aside as you step into Foxglove’s clubhouse. Leather and polished wood surround you. You’re used to the look and smell—old money—as a few members linger in the lounge.

You make your way to your office, your boot steps echoing in the empty hallway. Settling behind your desk, your mind replays today–the way Marcus’s skin felt against yours, the way Lucius looked at you. Two very different men, but both have captured your heart and mind equally.

Marcus, with his quiet strength and deep understanding of horses. Sometimes you think he knows them better than he knows people. You’ve always admired his dedication, the way he commands every second in the arena.

And then there’s Lucius, with his quick-witted ways and charming flirtation. He lights up any room he enters, drawing everyone—including you—in with his magnetic personality.

You let out a heavy breath and rub your temples. Now is not the time to be distracted by them. You have work to do.

Pulling out the files on your latest breeding project, you immerse yourself in the bloodlines and genetic potential. This right here is where you thrive–in the world of planned pairings and creating future champions, not being caught in the middle of some fierce competition between two champion horse jumpers.

—-

The next morning, you bring out a thick folder containing the breeding profile of the stallion that will arrive soon at the stables. You’re deep in concentration, your finger tracing over the names of past champions, when a soft knock at your office door startles you. Looking up, you see Marcus standing in the doorway.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he says after nervously clearing his throat. “I wanted to thank you again for your help with Daisy yesterday.”

You smile, gesturing for him to come in. “No need to thank me. I’m glad it was good news.”

He steps in, closing the door behind him. Your office suddenly feels much smaller. “Still… I appreciate it.”

A flush creeps up your neck at his praise. “Anytime,” your voice breaks as you respond.

His hand taps against his leg as he tries to find the right words. He takes a deep breath, his dark brown eyes meeting yours. “I was wondering if…” he starts, his low voice hesitant.

“Yes?” you gently prompt, your heart racing.

He takes a step closer to your desk, his thick finger brushing against the polished wood. “I was hoping that maybe we could—”

RING

The shrill ring of your work phone soars through the air, cutting through the thick tension of it. You jump, startled by its intrusion. Marcus’s face falls slightly as you reach for the receiver.

"Foxglove Downs, this is Sunny," you answer, trying to keep the frustration out of your voice.

“Sunny, it’s George,” your head groom says, his tone serious. “The new stallion just arrived. He’s a beaut, but he’s giving the handlers a bit of trouble.”

Your eyes widen with excitement and concern. “I’ll be right there.”

You hang up the phone and turn your attention back to Marcus. “The new stallion just got here, he’s being a bit difficult. I need to get down there to help George.”

Marcus nods. “I’ll come with you. You might need an extra set of hands.”

You smile at him, quickly gathering your things and hurrying out of the office. You jog across the grounds, Marcus following close behind. Approaching the stables, you can hear the commotion–sharp whinnying of an agitated horse screeches beyond the wooden walls.

Rounding the corner, you see him—a beautiful black stallion. He rears up, his front hooves pawing at the air as two handlers struggle to control him. His nostrils flare, eyes wild with fear and confusion.

“Easy there, big guy. It’s alright,” you soothe, gently stepping forward.

The horse’s ears prick forward at the sound of your voice. He shifts nervously from side to side. The handlers look relieved to see you.

"He's been like this since we got him off the trailer," one of them explains as he holds the lead rope.

You nod, keeping your eyes on the horse. "Let's give him some space," you say calmly. "Everyone back up slowly."

The stallion’s eyes dart between you and the now-retreating handlers–his breathing still rapid, his eyes still wild.

“That’s it,” you comfort, taking a small step forward. “No one’s going to hurt you, boy.”

“Be careful,” Marcus whispers behind you.

Nodding slightly, you continue your slow approach. The horse snorts, tossing his head. "You're safe here. Just relax.”

The stallion’s breathing begins to slow as you come close enough to touch him. You slowly extend your hand to him with your palm up, and he stretches his neck to sniff you.

"Hey there, handsome," you croon. "No one's going to hurt you. You're safe here." He bumps his nose against your palm and you smile, gently stroking his face. “That’s a good boy.”

Everyone relaxes as the horse calms under your care, his wild eyes softening as you gently take hold of his lead rope and coo in his ear.

“Let’s get you settled in, shall we?” you say softly to the horse. You turn to Marcus, his eyes watching you with something like awe and admiration. “Can you walk on his other side? Just in case?”

Marcus nods, moving to the horse’s left as you begin to lead him towards the stables. His hooves hit the ground in a calm cadence–no longer frantic, he follows you willingly. His earlier panic subsided under your gentle touch.

As you lead the horse into the stables, you can feel Marcus’s eyes on you.

“What happened out there—that was incredible,” he says. “I’ve never seen anyone calm a horse like that before.”

You smile and give the stallion a pat before closing the stall door. “Patience and understanding. He was scared, that’s all. They can sense when you’re nervous or afraid.”

You stroke the velvet of the stallion’s muzzle as you feed him a handful of oats. You turn to Marcus, curiosity getting the better of you. "So, what did you want to talk about earlier?

“Yes… it’s about Daisy. I, uh, was wondering if you’d like to help me rehab her? You knew so much about her condition, and I... I trust you.”

His nervousness and his request touch you, warmth spreading through your chest. “Of course. I’d be honored to help,” you say with a smile. “Daisy has so much potential.”

His face lights up, a rare full grin lighting his usually serious features. “Great. Does tomorrow morning work, if you’re free?”

“Absolutely,” you nod.

“So… it’s a date then?” His eyebrows rise. “I mean, it’s uh—”

You smile. “It’s a date.”

—-

Next Chapter

[ramons-elevator]

Fuck it. Appreciation Post for the amazing QSMP admins.

Heres a list of just a small bit of the amazing shit that they did on/for the QSMP and its players:

Made a huge prison/event for Pac e Mike which later turned into a job for Fit for his lore

Helping Foolish out with his Titan by raising it up, lighting it up, and even making sure the brightness of the light blocks where okay for him

Listening to Fit and Phil the day the task was "Make a grappling squawk" and made it interesting with Walter Bob delivering the news

Making Gegg a reality and letting him run for president

Every event is so cool no matter how big or small. The dungeons the The Jaidens did was so fun and interesting. Every new players event is always chaos but very detailed. Even making stuff for French Independence day and the 4th of July so people could experience each other's cultures.

The amazing wedding cake and rings for Cellbit and Roier's wedding

Helping Tazercraft with the Hide and Seek Arena and making the code so they can actually play hide and seek easier

Giving Charlie, Roier, and Max (idk if theres more) key binds so they easily switch their skins and their names in game

The little jokes/ nods to stuff that happens on the server. Like the day after Missa came back and failed a water bucket clutch, they made one of the tasks "Have a water bucket competition".

Them elaborating on stuff that happens on the server. For instance, Bad putting up mini bulletin board at spawn so they keep everyone updated. So the admins started putting the newspaper there so people could see and be updated.

Philza found an insane mob that basically soft locked your game and Phil messaged the admins telling them that information, to which they immediately disabled the mob.

The side NPCs that everyone fall in love with them. From Walter Bob, a random admin who they let the players create a story and love for, to the Capybaras, which are basically the admins having fun but turned into them having their own lore.

The insane enigmas they make for Cellbit and the story it tells. They make the puzzles very detailed and sometimes can hint to other stories.

Fucking making Felps a new member

Making a button so people like Cellbit who frequently switch between Portuguese and English dont have to constant fiddle with the settings and can just switch easily

The fucking insane shit they do with Max and his story is so cool. From what Ive seen, they give him so much room and freedom to make what he wants. Im always so impressed by whatever Max does and the things he does with this server.

They make sure everyone's lore/story is seen/heard and also try to connect the lore together. From what I have seen, nothing is half assed. Cellbit finding books about a powerful weapon? It is used to trap Pac and Etoiles had to go through the nether to get the shield to counter the sword.

Lastly, just listening to the members and hearing their concerns while also letting them having fun. They joke with the members/audience, but also hearing them out when they think something is unjustified.

The admins care so much for this server and put so much work and love for it. I hope they know it never goes unappreciated or looked over.

[chukys-mouthguard]

I’m obsessed with Quinn and Nico, can you write something with them?

nice to meet ya

2.4k words | not proofread

featuring: nico hischier x female reader x quinn hughes (semi-featuring luke and jack)

genre: fluff

summary: after the hughes bowl, Jack invites Nico out with your group in hopes of you two hitting it off. However, once he sees the way you and Quinn interact, he’s afraid he’s got no shot

The Hughes’ bowl had to be one of your favorite times of the year, it was quite honestly your Super Bowl.

Having grown up with the Hughes family, the boys were practically your brothers. And getting to see them all play under one roof, for one night, you always made sure your schedule was clear.

The game never being about who won or lost, though the boys would beg to differ, simply being an opportunity for all of you to get together. You’d taken a half day at work so that you had plenty of time to get ready and off to the arena. A couple of your friends tagging along as Luke was always sure to hook you up with good seats.

“The boys are actually going to crucify you for showing up in Canucks stuff.”

“Especially after Luke got us such good seats.”

You rolled your eyes as you and your girlfriends hung out in the family area, waiting for the boys after a hard fought Devils win in overtime.

“Please, Luke definitely didn’t have to pay for those seats. And, Quinn is practically my twin, they should expect nothing less from me at this point.”

The three of you laughed as you continued your waiting. Quinn was your age, and the two of you had always been inseparable. Like you said, you were practically twins. Your personalities meshed so well, and you were much closer to him than Jack or Luke. Your friends often joked that you and Quinn should date, but the thought of that made each of you want to vomit. Never once having any type of feelings for one another other than those of love for a sibling.

“There they are!”

Your friend called out as Jack and Luke emerged from their locker room. Hair still slightly damp as it clung to their foreheads, now dressed in more casual clothes versus their suits as you’d all planned to head to a bar for drinks after the game.

“Y/n, again with the Canucks gear? They are gonna stop letting me give you tickets if you keep pulling shit like this.”

Luke playfully scolded you as he wrapped you in a hug, then pulled your leather jacket tightly shut to cover the Canucks logo.

“Quinn needs to hurry up, I feel an espresso martini calling my name!”

Your friend urged as she playfully stomped her heel into the floor, all of you waiting to see Quinn emerge from the visitor’s hallway.

“Jack, you have a second?”

Looking up your eyes met those of a familiar face, but not one of the guys you’d met before. Jack looked up and saw you eyeing the man, figuring you were expecting an introduction.

“Nico, this is y/n, I apologize for her Canucks apparel, she was supporting Quinn tonight and not us apparently.”

Playfully you stuck your tongue out at Jack before accepting Nico’s hand that extended towards you.

“Nice to meet you y/n, I’ve heard quite a bit about you.”

“If it came from Jack, don’t believe a word he says.”

Now Jack was the one sticking his tongue out at you before stepping to the side to chat with Nico. Your girlfriends immediately noticed your eyes following the two of them, pulling you to the side so no one else could hear their comments.

“Girl, if you do not take advantage of that gorgeous man eyeing you up and down like that, then you are certifiably insane.”

Rolling your eyes you turned your attention to the hallway, searching for Quinn in hopes his presence would rescue you from the interrogation of the girls. His damp brown hair clung to his forehead as he made his way down the hall, slightly jogging as he knew he had made everyone wait on him. A shy smile on his lips as he saw you standing with your hands on your hips playfully scolding him.

“Sorry, sorry. Captain’s duties, I couldn’t dip out early.”

He wrapped you in a hug before noticing the outfit you’d chosen for the night, a huge smile on his face as he looked at you.

“How mad were they?”

“Luke threatened to stop giving me tickets.”

“Well, there’s plenty of tickets for you in Vancouver should he stop bringing you to his games. We know you’d rather attend mine anyways.”

Luke simply rolled his eyes as you and Quinn continued your jokes, the group waiting on Jack to finish with Nico so you could head out.

“Hey, do you guys care if Nico joins? I figured the more the merrier?”

Everyone looked to one another, shrugging as if to say what’s the hurt in an extra person.

“Okay, it’s decided then, you’re coming with us Nico.”

The group headed out of the arena, Quinn riding in your car along with one of your girlfriends, the other choosing to ride with the rest of the group as she and Luke were slowly becoming a thing, which you were happy to see. Always wanting the best for the boys, especially when that was in one of your friends that you know and love.

You’d all parked down the street from the strip of bars, Jack and Luke knowing exactly which ones to go to that wouldn’t result in mobs of fans crowding or bugging them all night.

You and Quinn had come up with the brilliant idea to race each other in the parking garage, one of the many dumb things you two found yourselves doing just because. Though you immediately regretted it when you rolled your ankle in your heeled boots. Slightly stumbling as you whined, Quinn just laughing as he crouched down, signaling for you to get on his back.

The others had made their way out of Jack’s car, watching Quinn carry you and not even questioning it. Nico simply laughed with the group as you explained about your ankle, sticking close to Jack as he’d noticed how Luke and Quinn both seemed to be coupled up with you and your friend. The other friend of yours had mentioned her boyfriend once earlier telling Nico it was likely just him and Jack for themselves.

“You don’t ever feel like a third wheel around them?”

Jack looked to Nico a bit confused, shaking his head with a laugh.

“Absolutely not, those two are off in their own world. They’ve always been that way for years.”

Nico watched as you threw your head back laughing at something Quinn must have said, the smile on your face making you even more beautiful than you already were. The way your laugh echoed in the parking structure like music to his ears, but he feared he’d not be able to get close to you seeing you attached to Quinn’s hip.

Jack had invited Nico out to join you all, thinking perhaps you and the Captain would hit it off. To which Nico happily accepted after seeing how gorgeous you were, his knowledge of you only from the stories Jack and Luke told. Never once having seen a photo of you or met you. But his excitement about getting to know you faded as he’d begun to sense something between you and Quinn. The piggy back ride, the way you looked at one another, the way Quinn made you laugh. However, what the man didn’t know was that there was nothing behind the interactions. Jack just sucked at explaining anything, leaving Nico to think he didn’t have a chance with you.

Settling into a somewhat private section of the bar, you snagged an extra bar stool to elevate your foot and rest your ankle. Quinn immediately attempted to get ice for you as the others found their seats. Nico was seated to your right, smiling at you as you looked up at him laughing.

“I promise, I’m not normally such a klutz. I’m usually pretty light on my feet.”

“Well, running in heels I think changes that a bit.”

His voice was soft as he spoke back to you, a soft chuckle leaving his lips as he looked at your foot elevated on the bar stool.

“Does it hurt much?”

“It’s okay, nothing some alcohol can’t fix.”

“You want a drink? I can go get you one?”

Nico gestured to the bar, to which you kindly accepted as you gave him your drink order. Watching as he approached the bar and struck up a conversation with Quinn. Unsure what the two of them would talk about since you hadn’t known them to cross paths much.

“Oh, hey man. Quinn, I don’t think we’ve ever officially met.”

Nico shook Quinn’s hand with a smile, mentioning something about one time when Quinn knocked Nico on his ass, breaking the ice between the two of them.

“Are you getting drinks or?”

“No, trying to get a bag of ice for y/n. Hard to believe that if you need something that you aren’t paying for, they serve you slower.”

Nico laughed as he looked over his shoulder at you, your eyes wide as you were clearly telling some elaborate story. Your excitement showing through your body language, making him smile softly to himself.

“You and y/n have known each other for awhile yeah?”

“Practically our whole lives, we’ve been told by our families we were destined to get married ever since we were like ten.”

Nico slightly nodded, taking in the words of Quinn as he felt his heart sink a bit. Not realizing that you and him were so serious.

“Wow, that’s crazy. I mean, she is a beautiful girl, can’t blame anybody for wanting to have her all to themselves.”

“Yeah she’s definitely beautiful, but marriage is a little crazy for people to say I think.”

“You don’t want to get married?”

“I mean, maybe one day, if she’s the right girl. But, right now I’m not thinking about that at all.”

Nico looked at Quinn confused, as if they were having two different conversations. But before he could follow up Quinn’s statement, he was headed back to the table with a bag of ice for your ankle.

The bartender tapping the wood top to get his attention, Nico quickly ordering drinks as he’d felt bad you’d been waiting.

“Thank you so much!”

You took the drink from Nico as you smiled up at him, he’d sat down with a sigh as he eyed your ankle. The bag of ice in its place, hopefully helping soothe your pain along with the vodka lemonade he’d just brought you.

“How is it?”

Nodding your head as you stirred the drink, you looked to Nico with a laugh.

“It’s vodka lemonade, so, you can’t really mess that up.”

He playfully smacked his head as he laughed at himself, realizing he’d not been clear in what he was asking about.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so stupid, sorry. I meant how is your ankle? With the ice?”

“Ohhhh!”

You threw your head back laughing as your hand rested on his forearm, the two of you amused by the miscommunication as Nico took note of the feeling of your hand on his arm. Appreciating the time it took for you to finally put it away, but missing your touch as soon as you did.

“It’s better! Ice was definitely needed, that's for sure.”

The night continued on with drinks, funny stories from the game, and even a few shots. Luke and his girl left early, not being night owls, and your friend had to get home to bed for an early workday. Leaving you and Nico at the table while Quinn and Jack took part in a very competitive game of darts.

“So, y/n, how long have you and Quinn?”

Nico’s voice trailed off as he sipped his drink, your expression a bit puzzled. Not sure if it was the alcohol or possibly Nico’s accent that had you confused as to what exactly he was asking. You were sure he knew that Quinn was like a brother to you, he’d mentioned the fact the boys had spoken about you before. But then again, Jack was notorious for leaving out key details. Which in this scenario, could be why you’d felt an awkward vibe from Nico all night. As if he was unsure what he could or couldn’t say to you.

“I’m sorry, do you think that Quinn and I are, dating?”

Nico’s expression quickly turned to one of confusion mixed with embarrassment, as if he’d missed out on some obvious joke amongst you all.

“Well, yes? I mean, hearing the way he talked about you I thought so. But he did say something about everyone telling you two to get married, but then he said he definitely wasn’t gonna do that anytime soon, which I thought was weird if you’ve been practically dating since you were ten years old.”

You tried your best not to laugh, knowing that Nico clearly had no clue that you were in fact not dating Quinn, and you were simply friends. Feeling bad as you could see how respectful he’d been trying to be all night.

“Nico, I’m so sorry, Jack clearly sucks at providing pertinent information.”

His nervousness settled as you’d rested a hand on his cheek, your smile comforting him as he was sure he’d have to leave and never speak to you again because of this mixup.

“No, Quinn is not my boyfriend. He’s simply my best friend. I am single as a Pringle.”

“Pringle?”

He looked at you confused, you simply told him to forget the joke as you both erupted in laughter.

“Well, okay, that changes things for sure.”

“Changes things?”

You looked at him with wide eyes as you sipped your cocktail, unsure as to what he’d be referring to.

“A lot of things actually. Starting with the fact that I’d love to take you on a date sometime. Miss single Pringle.”

You held a hand to your mouth as you tried not to let your laughter cause you to spit out any of your drink. Already embarrassed at the fact you’d had to sit next to Nico all night icing your ankle.

“And if it goes well, maybe I can be your source for Devils tickets? I wouldn’t mind having you around the rink more often.”

A slight blush crept over your cheeks as you smiled at him from behind your glass, trying not to seem too excited at the offer of a date with Nico. Mentally thanking Jack for inviting him tonight while still cursing him for fucking up the details on who exactly you were.

“But, if you do let me take you out and start coming to my games, no more Canucks gear okay? I think a Hischier jersey with number thirteen on the back would look much better on you!”

[gamergirl929]

When Somebody Loved Me (Everything Was Beautiful) (Alex Morgan x Reader)

A reunion of childhood best friends would typically be a jubilant affair, but not in this case. No, because you were about to reunite with none other than Alex Morgan, the woman who left you behind when you were kids, the woman who'd broken not only your heart but your spirit as well.

I really want to thank @kingofmyheart-19, without them I doubt this fic would have gotten done, they helped so much and listened to my ranting on plot ideas and gave me some of their own, so thank you so, so much for the help, it was SO appreciated! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ They're also a writer as well, so feel free to go check out their page!

Disclaimer: This fic could be very triggering to some, it deals with abuse, speicifically child abuse, so if that's going to trigger you PLEASE skip this one. If you're still here, get ready for a 9K emotional roller coaster. As always, I'd really love to hear what you all think, this has been a fic I've been wanting to write for so long and I'm so happy it's done, so please, let me know what you think.

⚠️Trigger Warning: Child Abuse/Mentions of Child Abuse ⚠️

You closed your eyes, practicing the deep breathing you learned in therapy before your eyes open, the stadium where you would meet the USWNT looming overhead.  

You knew you would see her, that you would have to see her, you were now working for her team after all, but the thought of your reunion made your stomach twist.  

You could feel your chest tighten, a panic attack looming as you thought about your Y/E/C orbs meeting hers.  

You wondered if they were still the same bright blues you remembered.  

You shake your head rapidly, pushing those thoughts to the back of your mind.  

Just because you were about to see each other again after so long, didn’t mean things were the same as they once were, she’d left you behind, and you didn’t think you could ever forgive her for that.  

You didn’t know if you could ever forgive Alex Morgan for what she did, in all honesty, you weren’t sure if you wanted to.  

With one final deep breath you slip out of your rental car and make your way towards the arena, mere minutes from reuniting with the woman that broke your heart.

************************************************************************

If there was one thing Alex Morgan didn’t expect, it was to see you making your way across the field towards her and the team, Emma Hayes at your side.  

Her throat bobbed as she took you in.  

You’d gotten taller, easily towering over her.  

Your jawline was much sharper, and visibly clenched, something she used to get on you about when you were growing up.  

The second your eyes met hers, her heart stalled in her chest, the Y/E/C orbs that would once soften when they locked with her blues, were now cold and sharp.  

“Y/N...” Alex whispers when you’re in earshot and you glance her way.  

“Do I know you?” You ask, a harshness to your tone that takes her aback, she’d never heard you speak that way, especially to her.  

Her mouth opens and closes rapidly, the woman searching for anything at all to say, but it’s as if her vocal cords had stopped working.  

Her teammates eye her curiously, their eyes darting between the two of you.  

“Well, this is Y/N Y/L/N, she’s going to be our new trainer, she comes HIGHLY recommended, so try to make her feel welcome, okay?” Emma smiles, in no way missing the way Alex stares pleadingly at your profile.  

Eventually, your eyes catch hers, her orbs the same bright blues that you often found yourself getting lost in years ago.  

Alex isn’t able to utter a single word before you’re turning on your heels and moving towards the sidelines, Emma Hayes in toe.  

Alex jumps when a hand settles on her back, a hand belonging to her longtime friend, Kelley O’Hara.  

“Are you okay Al? Is something wrong?” She asks, able to read the woman’s face easily, picking up on the fact that she was incredibly upset.  

“Ye-Yeah.” Alex stammers, her blues orbs burning holes in your back as you move out of sight.  

“Everything is fine.”

**********************************************************************

The second Alex saw you, all the emotions she tried so, so hard to bury came rushing back, hitting her like a tidal wave.  

She wasn’t prepared for the way you looked at her, your eyes hard and icy, a look she vaguely remembered when she spotted you in the hallways of your high school, your books hugged to your chest and a new bruise gracing your face or your arms, the woman knowing full well that more bruises were hidden beneath your clothes.   

She knew deep down she deserved it; she severed ties with you when you needed her the most, and she could never wash away the guilt she felt every time you passed her in the hallway, your face twisted in a pained grimace.  

That night, she stares at the ceiling, her blue orbs glassy as she remembers the first time, she saw signs of the abuse you were enduring at home.  

***********************************************************************

“What are those from?” A small Alex Morgan asks as she points to the circular marks dotting your forearm, the skin a bright and angry red, the wounds fresh.  

You shake your head rapidly, pulling your arm away from her.  

“N-N-Nothing.” You mumble, the girl scoffing as she gently takes your arm, her blue orbs zeroing in on the sores covering your arm.  

“What happened?” She asks and you shake your head, tears glistening in your Y/E/C orbs.  

“Y/N...” She whispers, gently rubbing your arm, careful not to touch the marks.  

“You can tell me anything...” She says, frowning when she sees a tear streaming down your cheek.  

“What happened?” She asks again and you swallow, your mouth opening and closing before you croak out a single word.  

“Dad.”

**********************************************************************

Needless to say, Alex didn’t sleep well that night, her mind racing, wondering if the wounds on your arm had increased in number.  

She honestly wasn’t sure if she wanted to know.  

Eventually, Alex dragged herself onto the bus that morning, her blue orbs immediately finding your Y/E/C’s.  

You almost immediately turn away, as if you’re unable to look at her for too long.  

She pauses, attempting to find something, anything to say to you, but again, she finds herself unable to speak.  

She sighs in defeat before making her way towards the back of the bus, unaware that your eyes are on her, your nostrils flaring.  

She had no right to speak to you, no right to even look at you, not after the things she’d done, not after she’d left you behind to be abused and neglected.  

You growl, turning towards the front of the bus, your fingers curling around the seat in front of you.  

If you had anything to say about it, you wouldn’t speak to Alex Morgan ever again, in reality, it wasn’t that you wouldn’t it was that you couldn’t.

**********************************************************************

Unfortunately, you’re forced to speak to her, the forward seeking you out when you reach the hotel, pushing her way into the elevator with you.  

Your throat bobs as you stare blankly forward, your foot tapping and hands trembling, something Alex notices immediately.  

“Y/N.” She whispers, her voice cracking, the sound pulling at your heartstrings, that sadness ebbing away a beat later.  

“Y/N, you can’t ignore me forever.” She sighs and you shake your head.  

“I told you; I have no idea who you are.” You say, the woman growling as you hastily exit the elevator, her hand catching your wrist, something that noticeably makes you jump.  

“That’s bullshit Y/N, and you know-- 

Your lip curls in a snarl as you jerk your arm from her grasp.  

“I USED to have a friend named Alex Morgan, but that was a long time ago.” You say through gritted teeth before turning on your heels and marching down the hallway, leaving a crestfallen Alex Morgan behind.

**********************************************************************

Despite the fact that your last interaction didn’t go well, Alex continued to try and speak to you, popping up seemingly everywhere.  

Unfortunately, you would be on the road for a significant amount of time considering it was She Believes Season, the entirety of the team together more often than not.  

The close quarters resulted in early mornings, and one morning, you’d made the mistake of rolling up your sleeves to your elbows, revealing the multiple scars littering your skin.  

Alex stiffened the moment she saw them, tears filling her blue orbs as she saw the massive number of burns on your skin, burns she knew were made by the end of a cigarette.  

She’s unable to keep the tears in her eyes at bay, tears streaming down her cheeks.  

You pick your head up, the feel of someone staring at you setting the hairs of your arms on end.  

Your eyes catch hers and your brows furrow, following her gaze to the scars dotting your arms.  

Your eyes meet hers before dropping to your marred arm, your nostrils flaring as you turn away, tugging your arm out of view.  

“Alex...?”  

Alex jumps, her eyes meeting Kelley’s concerned brown orbs.  

“Are you okay? Why are you crying?” She asks, watching as Alex wipes her tears away with the sleeve of her sweater.  

“It’s alright Kel, it’s nothing.” She sniffles, her eyes burning holes in the back of your head.  

Kelley eyes her profile worriedly before turning away reluctantly, wondering what it was that was troubling her so.  

**********************************************************************

“When did that happen?” Alex asks when she catches you in the hallway on your way to your hotel room.  

You turn on your heels, coming face to face with the woman you’d been trying to avoid, her blue orbs zeroed in on your scarred arm.  

You pull your arm out of view, tucking it behind you.  

“Like you care.” You bite, turning on your heels to take your leave.  

“Y/N, you can tell me anything.” She whispers, her words stopping you in your tracks, taking you back to the day on the playground when you’d first told her that your father had burned your arm, when you’d first told her your father was abusing you.  

“Like you don’t know.” You mumble, unable to turn to face her, tears stinging your eyes.  

Your breath hitches when she slips around you, gently taking your wrist and inspecting your arm closely. 

You’re unable to stop your heart from skipping a beat when she brushes the scars, her touch light and tender.  

The scars were generally perfect circles, aside from those that overlapped, forming random shapes along your arm.  

Alex frowned as she caressed the lumpy and disfigured skin, her eyes glazing over.  

“Don’t act like you care.” You mutter, the forward frowning.  

“I do care, Y/N.”  

You scoff, pulling your arm out of her grasp, briefly missing the way her fingertips felt against your skin.  

“If you cared Alex, I wouldn’t have these.” You growl, her throat bobbing.  

“You can’t blame me for that Y/N, it isn’t fair.”  

You bark out a laugh, the sound taking her by surprise.  

“I wouldn’t have half the scars I do if it wasn’t for you. You abandoned me when I needed you the most, and for what Alex!?” You yell, surprised by the sound of your own voice and the anger in your tone.  

Alex’s mouth opens and closes rapidly, the forward unable to find her words, that being enough to send you shoving passed her, your shoulder knocking hers as you make your way down the hall towards your hotel room, leaving the woman behind, just as she’d done to you.  

That night, you can’t help but stare at your shirtless self in the mirror, the scars typically hidden beneath your clothes revealed, of course, to your eyes only.  

How could you ever forgive Alex when your skin looked like yours?  

How could you ever forgive the woman that you’d blamed for receiving them in the first place?

***********************************************************************

It was unsurprising to Alex that you put so much pressure on her during practice, as if getting back at her for all the pain she caused.  

“Pick it up Morgan!” You yell, Alex noticeably slacking considering you’d spent the practice already putting her through the ringer.  

It’s only after her drills end that she comes to a halt, panting heavily, her hands on her knees as she attempts to fill her lungs with air.  

You shake your head, making your way towards her and leaning down.  

“You don’t just make the team because you’re a pretty face, you know that right?” You bite, the forward shooting you a glare.  

Your brows furrow when the corners of her mouth tick upward.  

“Did you just say I’m pretty?” She teases and you scoff, pinching the bridge of your nose.  

“Of course, THAT’S what you take from that.”  

Alex’s lips split in a grin, her smile just as bright as it always had been, your heart skipping a beat in your chest.  

“Hey, you said it, not me.” She smirks and you roll your eyes, turning her towards the remainder of the team before giving her a light shove.  

“Get your ass over there Morgan.” You grumble, her grin widening before she skips towards the others.  

You roll your eyes, unable to hold back a small smile as you too make your way towards the team.  

**********************************************************************

The distance between you and Alex was still massive, no bridge long enough to bring the two of you together.  

It wasn’t for a lack of trying on Alex’s part, whereas she tried to reach out, you’d only pull back, unwilling to bridge the gap, in fact, increasing its size. 

Alex watched as you focused your attention Lindsey’s knee, wrapping it gently, the blonde saying something to you she can’t quite hear, but whatever it was, it makes you smile, a smile that still makes her heart skip a beat after all these years.  

You move to your feet, giving the midfielder a pat on the shoulder before she turns and jogs onto the field.  

“Thanks Y/N!” Emily says patting your back a bit harder than intended, as she jogs passed following Lindsey onto the field.  

You go ridged, your hands trembling as you squeeze your eyes shut tightly.  

Alex jogs towards you, the emotional turmoil you were experiencing unnoticed by the remainder of the team.  

“Y/N...?” Alex whispers as she gently takes your trembling hands in her own, stopping their quaking.  

Your chest begins to rise and fall rapidly, an anxiety attack impending, something Alex had seen happen to you multiple times before.  

“Y/N?” She says again, giving your hands a squeeze, this time however, you speak.  

“I said I was sorry... Please don’t…” You mutter, Alex’s eyes widening before immediately filling with tears. 

“Come on.” She whispers, silently guiding you away from the team, catching sight of Emma Hayes watching the two of you, the forward shaking her head rapidly.  

When you’re in a secluded spot, Alex cups your cheeks.  

“Y/N, it’s okay, it’s me.”  

You squeeze your eyes shut even more so than they already were, your hands shaking violently.  

The tears in Alex’s eyes begin to stream down her face as she tries to think of something, ANYTHING to get you out of the catatonic state you’re in.  

Her eyes widen, a memory flickering in the back of her mind as she pulls you into her, one arm around you and the other resting on the back of your neck, her fingers tangling in the fine hairs there.  

She remembered holding you that way in high school, before your friendship ended, a nightmare pulling you from your sleep one night as the two of you slept side by side.  

“I’ve got you.” She whispers in your ear, drawing lazy circles against the nape of your neck.  

“And I’m not letting you go, never again.” She whispers, cooing softly in your ear.  

Your breathing begins to slow, the motion of her fingers against the nape of your neck lulling you into a sense of calm, something you hadn’t felt in a long time.  

She knew when you realized it was her that was holding you, you’d pull away, and the thought tore her heart in two. 

You begin to relax, your shoulders sagging as your eyes slowly flutter open.  

Almost immediately you move out of Alex’s hold, the forward frowning, missing the way you felt against her, missing the way her fingers felt tangled in your hair.  

“What the hell are you doing?” You snarl, putting as much distance as you possibly can between the two of you.  

“I-I didn’t know what else to do, you were having a panic attack.” She explains, her voice quivering.  

You scoff.  

“I didn’t NEED your help, I would’ve been just fine without you, like I ALWAYS have been.” You bark out before hastily leaving the room, not even sparing a glance back at the woman whose shoulder you roughly knocked into on your way out. 

**********************************************************************

Even though you were angry at her, you knew you had to thank Alex.  

You couldn’t imagine what would’ve happened if Alex hadn’t taken charge and took you to a secluded place to calm down, using a technique she became accustomed to using in your later high school years.  

You could still feel her fingers gently drawing circles against the nape of your neck, something you longed to feel again, but you wouldn’t let her get that close again, you couldn’t.  

You’re pulled from your thoughts when the very woman who’d been on your mind comes towards you, the woman silently shuffling from foot to foot as she waits to get her ankle wrapped.  

You give Kelley a smile, the defender’s ankle wrapped in her own bit of tape before she jogs off, turning and giving Alex’s hand a squeeze on her way passed.  

Alex comes to a stop in front of you, her throat bobbing as you gently take her ankle in your hands.  

You’re silently wrapping her ankle in bright pink tape when you finally find your voice.  

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, blue orbs widening as they meet your Y/E/C’s.  

“You don’t need to be.” She smiles softly and you clear your throat, the sight of that smile effecting you more than you’d care to admit.  

“I do." You sigh, the forwards cheeks flushing as you subconsciously caress her ankle. 

“You...” You swallow hard, your throat bobbing.  

“If you weren’t there for me the other day, I don’t know what I would’ve done, so... Thank you, Alex.” You whisper, clearing your throat, your eyes widening when you realize you’d been running your thumb gently back and forth along her ankle.  

You give her a nod, reluctantly releasing her ankle, your old friend staring down at you for a moment before she smiles. 

“You don’t have to thank me.” She mumbles softly, before her lips split in a grin.  

“But you’re welcome.”  

You watch as she makes her way onto the field, a smile stretching across your own face as you turn to Lindsey Horan, the blonde waiting for her knee to be wrapped.  

However, you can’t help but look passed her, specifically at Alex Morgan, the woman beaming, wearing a smile you hadn’t seen her wear in a long, long time.  

A smile that makes the butterflies in your stomach begin to stir, butterflies that died a long, long time ago, butterflies that were slowly coming back to life.  

You didn’t like that the feelings you did your best to bury were resurfacing.  

You blamed her, you were supposed to hate her, but the more she smiled your way, the more that anger and blame started to ebb away.  

Your brows furrow as your phone again begins to ring, an unknown number stretched across its screen.  

You shake your head, dropping your phone onto the top of a nearby bag. 

Alex glances your way, smiling softly when your eyes meet.  

The relationship between the two of you began to slowly change, you no longer looked at her with absolute disdain, instead wearing an expression she couldn’t quite place.  

It’s when Emma Hayes blows her whistle that Alex sighs, making her way towards her bag, unaware that your phone had slipped inside.  

She runs her hand through her sweat covered hair, catching sight of you out of the corner of her eye as you chat with Emma Hayes, a smile on your face.  

She’d missed seeing that smile, mostly, she missed seeing that smile directed at her.  

She turns away, reluctantly, unaware that your phone was buried deep inside her bag.

**********************************************************************

You growl, searching wildly through your bag in an attempt to find your phone, sighing when you come up empty.  

You flop down onto your hotel room’s bed, your head in your hands.  

The last thing you wanted to do today was lose your phone, but here you were, attempting to remember where you’d last seen the device.  

A tentative knock on your hotel room door makes you jump, your brows furrowing as you make your way towards it.  

You tug the door open, your eyes widening and brows knitting in confusion when you see Alex standing behind the door, the woman shuffling nervously from foot to foot.  

“Uhhh, yeah?” You say, the woman nodding into your hotel room.  

“Can I come in?” She asks and you hum, eyeing her intently before you step aside, uncertain why you’d allowed her into your room.  

The door clicks shut behind you before you turn towards her, your arms crossed across your chest.  

“What is it?” You ask, your eyes widening when you realize she was holding your phone.  

“I found it in my bag.” She says, the look on her face telling you there was something more to the reason why she was in your room.  

“Th-Thanks.” You stutter, taking it from her hand, the forward’s throat bobbing.  

“It was ringing, and I answered it.” She says, your brows knitting, anger building in your chest at the thought of the woman invading your privacy.  

“I’m-I’m sorry Y/N, I promise, I really didn’t know it was your phone.” She stutters, the anger you were feeling dissipating at the look on Alex’s face.  

“There’s more to it, isn’t there?” You ask and she, sheepishly nods.  

“It was your mother.”  

Your eyes double in size, your body going ridged at the mention of the woman who’d done nothing, merely watching as your father abused and neglected you, a woman you hadn’t talked to since you were kicked out at 18.  

You make your way towards your bed, taking a seat on its end, Alex making her way towards you, waiting until you give her a nod before she too sits down.  

The room is enveloped in silence for a moment before you find your voice.  

“Wh-What did she want?” You stammer, realizing the calls you’d been getting the last few days must have been from your mother.  

Alex swallows hard, staring at her intertwined fingers, her mouth opening and closing.  

“It’s your dad.” She whispers, noting the hitch in your breath, the woman unable to stop herself from reaching for, and covering your hand.  

You find yourself taking comfort in her touch, something you thought you would never do again.  

“What happened?” You ask, your voice barely above a whisper.  

Alex clears her throat, seemingly searching for what to say before she mutters.  

“He’s dying.”  

You snort, in a sick sense, happy that the man who destroyed your childhood was about to die.  

“Your mom said, he wants to...” She pauses, staring at your profile as she speaks.  

“He wants to apologize, for everything, before he passes.” 

You stiffen, your hands balling into fists, Alex’s thumb delicately running along your white knuckles.  

You chuckle.  

“Of course he does. He wants to clear his own conscious before he dies.” You snarl angrily, the thought of calling your mother and ripping her a new one prominent in your mind.  

Alex remains silent, your brows furrowing as you turn towards her, her mouth opening and closing rapidly.  

“What?” You ask, the forward shrugging.  

“I may have...” She stops mid-sentence, shuffling nervously.  

“Said some things.”  

Your brows arch, noting that she’s refusing to look you in the eye.  

“Like what?” You ask and she clears her throat.  

“I may have told her your dad was a piece of shit, and that you didn’t owe him anything, that he doesn’t deserve to see you after all he did, and that she was a bitch who doesn’t deserve to see you either because she was just as guilty. He abused you, and she just watched and did nothing about it.”   

Your brows arch, your eyes burning holes in the side of Alex’s head before you laugh, her blue orbs widening as she turns towards you.  

You wrap your arms around your middle as you’re overcome with laughter, the thought of the look on your mother’s face as Alex tore her a new one, and the look on her face when it was Alex that answered the phone making you laugh uncontrollably.  

You knew her and your father weren’t her biggest fans, considering she treated you the way you were meant to be treated, and loved you in a way that they never did.  

“I would’ve paid to see that.” You say, wiping a tear from your eyes, the forward beside you smiling, her lips splitting into a grin.  

“I meant what I said, you don’t owe them anything Y/N, even if he’s dying, you don’t have to go to see him, unless you want to.”  

You shake your head, your eyes dropping to your and Alex’s joined hands, the feel of her hand in your own making your heart skip a beat.  

“I know.” You say, taking a deep breath before exhaling loudly.  

“I kind of want to see him, to show him that even though he treated me the way he did, he didn’t break me, that I became successful, and I didn’t need him or my mother to do it.”  

You swallow hard, your gaze falling to your lap.  

“I suppose...” You pause, frowning, unable to stop tears forming in your eyes.  

“I suppose he did break me, didn’t he?” You mutter, your eyes widening a gasp leaving you as Alex’s hand leaves your own, the woman instead wrapping her arms tightly around you.  

The tears that formed in your eyes began streaming down your cheeks as she held you tightly, her cheek pressing against your shoulder.  

“He didn’t Y/N.” She whispers, squeezing you gently, not wanting to throw you into a panic attack like you’d had the other day.  

You close your eyes, sagging in her hold, the hotel room falling silent as you simply let Alex hold you in her arms, a feeling you didn’t realize you’d missed so much.  

You’re unsure of what makes you say it, but before you can think your lips are moving.  

“I don’t know if I can face them alone.” You confess, Alex turning her head and kissing your temple, the woman stiffening when she realizes what she did, though she in no way relinquishes her hold on you.  

“You don’t have to Y/N.” She whispers, smiling when she feels your arm slip around her.  

“What do you mean?” You ask, your heart lightening in your chest at the thought of the forward coming back to your hometown with you.  

“I’ll go with you.” She mutters nervously, leaning heavily into you, her hold on you tightening.  

You go silent before you rest your head against hers, a soft sigh leaving you as you give her side a squeeze.  

“I think I’d like that very much.”

**********************************************************************

The relationship between you drastically changed after that, the bridge was all but mended, the two of you almost as inseparable as when you were kids.  

And when the She Believes Tournament ended, with the USWNT as the victors, you and Alex decided it was time to prepare to head back to your hometown, a place that held so many bad memories for you.  

It wasn’t long before there was a knock at your apartment door, your hand freezing on the doorknob as you take a deep breath.  

Despite the fact that things were better between the two of you, you still got nervous, worried that she would disappear again and break your heart.  

You pull the door open slowly, Alex smiling when your eyes meet hers, a duffle bag slung over her shoulder a suitcase in one hand.  

“Are you ready?” She asks as you step aside, allowing her inside, the woman taking in your small apartment.  

“Honestly, not really.” You sigh, leaning against the island in your kitchenette.  

Alex makes her way towards you with a frown, taking your hands, the gesture making your cheeks flush.  

“Well, you’re not going alone, I’ll be there every step of the way.” She whispers as she caresses your knuckles.  

You couldn’t lie, the feelings you had for Alex had resurfaced, and the closer you became, the more you realized that the feelings you had in high school had come back, tenfold.  

You were in love with the woman currently holding your hands, the woman whose blue orbs sparkled when she smiled, the woman who’d broken your heart all those years ago.  

You give her hands a squeeze, noting the flush of her own cheeks.  

“I know.” You whisper pushing yourself off the island and moving to your full height.  

“And it means a lot to me.” You say, bashfully staring at the floor beneath your feet.  

Alex smiles softly, turning your hands over in her own before intertwining your fingers.  

“It’s the least I could do.” She says, giving your hands a squeeze.  

Her hands leave yours reluctantly and you sigh, missing the feel of her smooth palms against your own.  

“Well, let’s go.”

**********************************************************************

Alex’s fingers drum on the steering wheel, her eyes darting to the passenger's seat, where you're fast asleep. 

She knew this journey would take a toll on you, she knew that this was one of the hardest things you ever had to do, and she was happy you’d allowed her to be along for the ride. 

You mumble in your sleep, your brows furrowing as your head turns back and forth.  

Alex reaches towards you, gently covering your hand with her own as she pulls into the tiny roadside hotel the two of you were planning on staying in for the night before you reach your hometown the following day.  

“Hey.” Alex whispers, tenderly tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.  

Your eyes slowly flutter open, your brows furrowing as you blink rapidly to clear your vision.  

“Are we here?” You rasp, the sound of your sleepy voice making her smile lovingly.  

“No, we’re at the hotel.” 

You hum, stretching your arms above your head before you open the passenger's side door and slip out with a groan.  

Alex slides out the driver’s side door, she too stretching. 

“We had reservations, right?” You ask and she nods rapidly.  

“I’ll go check us in.”  

You watch her go with a small smile, the woman disappearing into the small hotel’s lobby, leaving you with the suitcases, which you didn’t mind.  

You lean back against Alex’s car, staring up at the random hotel you’d decided to stop at on your way home.  

You sigh, leaning your head against the car behind you.  

You didn’t want to go home, you didn’t want to face your father and your mother, but you knew you had to.  

You had to show them that you were well off, you had to show them that you’d made it without them, that you survived your father’s abuse and your mother’s refusal to do anything about it.  

And having Alex Morgan by your side was just a plus, a major plus.  

You remember your father taunting you, making comments about how Alex had finally learned how pathetic you were and made the right decision to distance herself from you.  

Your throat bobs as you bite your bottom lip, staving off tears at the thought of your father’s harsh words.  

Your mother wanted you to come home to hear their apology, but you had ulterior motives.  

You were never going to accept her apology, and you were certainly never going to accept his, much like his apologies during your childhood, they meant absolutely nothing, and that wasn’t about to change.  

“Hey.”  

You jump, your eyes flashing open, immediately locking with Alex’s blue orbs.  

“Are you okay?” She asks, concern evident in her tone.  

You clear your throat, pushing off the car as you nod.  

“Yeah, I’m just fine.”  

***********************************************************************

It didn’t take long for the two of you to settle into your room, the pair of you flopping down onto the beds you’d be sleeping on for the night.  

“I’m so tired.” You yawn, rolling off the bed and heading to your suitcase.  

Before you realize what, you’re doing, you tug your shirt over your head, revealing your near bare back to the woman in the opposite bed.  

“Oh my god.”  

You twist on your heels, your eyes wide.  

“What’s wrong? Are you alright?” You ask as you approach the forward, tears streaming down her cheeks.  

“What is— 

You pause your throat bobbing as you glance down at yourself, realizing your torso was bare, covered only by the sports bra you were wearing. 

Meaning each and every scar that covered your flesh was revealed, scars dotting your arms, as well as covering your chest and back.  

Alex’s hands tremble as she makes her way towards you, her eyes focused intently on your chest, a number of scars littering your skin, some from glass, some from a belt, and others you couldn’t really remember. 

Lashes covered your stomach, as well as your back, red welts made mostly by your father’s favorite belt.  

A wide array of cigarette burns covered your skin, mostly all over your arms, but some were on your chest and stomach.  

“Jesus Christ.” Alex whispers, her voice cracking as she places her hands on your shoulders, taking in the destruction your father left behind on your skin.  

“I-I...” She stammers, her bottom lip trembling as she turns you around, lash marks covering your back, overlapping into a mess of patterns.  

Alex sobs, your breath hitching as she wraps her arms around you from behind, burying her face in the nape of your neck.  

“I’m so sorry.” She cries, clinging onto you for dear life, her tears running down your scarred back.  

You turn in her hold, wrapping your arms tightly around her, the woman burying her face in your neck as she cries.  

“This is all my fault.” She sniffs, realizing that you hadn’t had the scars you do before the two of you had stopped being friends.  

You shake your head, your chin resting on the top of her head.  

“It isn’t. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize that.” You whisper, ducking down to kiss her head.  

Alex pulls back, her watery blue orbs locking with your equally watery Y/E/C’s.  

“It is Y/N!” She cries, searching your face intently.  

“You didn’t have these before we stopped being friends.” She says, whimpering as she takes in your scars again.  

“I— 

“No.” She says, shaking her head rapidly.  

“If I would’ve just told you how I felt, you wouldn’t have these.” She sniffles, your eyes widening, and brows furrowing.  

“What do you mean?” You ask, staring closely at the woman’s face, noting the way her throat bobs.  

“Come on, Al.” You whisper, gently placing your hands on her waist.  

“You can tell me anything.” You say, repeating the words she’d said on the playground so long ago.  

Much to your surprise, she stares at you blankly for a moment before leaning in, your breath catching as her lips meet yours.  

The butterflies that recently began to stir, burst to life as you kiss your childhood best friend, something you’d wanted to do for so long.  

Your lips lock, the kiss stimulating every one of your nerve endings.  

You never wanted it to end, you never wanted to stop kissing Alex Morgan.  

She sighs against your lips as you kiss passionately, feelings the two of you had for so long now revealed. 

Reluctantly, you part, Alex’s forehead resting against yours as you catch your breath.  

“Wow.” You whisper, smiling when Alex leans in for another kiss, this one softer, and shorter than the one you’d just shared.   

Alex’s mouth opens and closes for a few seconds before she clears her throat.  

“I didn’t know how to tell you back then how I felt, I was scared, I thought if I pushed you away, the feelings would go away, but they didn’t.”  

She cups your cheeks, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.  

“They never went away, because I love you, Y/N.” She confesses, your eyes doubling in size, your heart skipping a beat.  

“I always have, I just never knew how to say it...”  

She licks her lips, inhaling deeply before continuing.  

“When I saw you walking across the field, those feelings came flooding back.”  

She rests her forehead against yours.  

“I love you Y/N, I always have, and I always will.”  

The room falls silent, the woman in front of you baring her entire soul to you, the knowledge that she’d felt the same making your stomach lurch with excitement.  

You lean in, pressing a feather light kiss to her lips.  

“I love you too, Al.” You whisper, Alex smiling against your lips as she throws her arms around your neck, kissing you passionately, the feel of her lips against yours something she couldn't get enough of.  

The kisses remain tame, the urge to turn them into something more not present in any sense, the two of you catching up on the tender and loving kisses you’d missed when growing up.  

You again, reluctantly part, your arms wrapping tightly around Alex, the forward burying her nose in the crook of your neck.  

Unfortunately, your lips part in a lengthy, and loud yawn, the woman in your arms giggling as she leans back, leaning in to peck your lips before stepping out of your embrace.  

“We should get some sleep, huh?” She asks and you nod, making your way towards your suitcase and grabbing the shirt you’d first intended to put on.  

“Wait.” Alex whispers, placing her hand gently on your back so as to not scare you.  

You turn to face her, a single brow arched as she motions to the shirt in your hands.  

“Keep it off.” She says your throat bobbing as your eyes dart from Alex’s blue orbs to the shirt and back. 

You hum, dropping the shirt before grabbing a few things from your suitcase and nodding to the bathroom.  

“I’ll be right back.” You smile, pecking her lips before disappearing into the bathroom.  

Alex, meanwhile, makes her way towards her own suitcase, slipping into a pair of shorts and a tank top just as you’re moving out of the bathroom.  

She turns towards you, noting the way you shuffle on your feet, a sports bra covering your upper torso and a pair of sweats hugging your hips.  

She holds her hand out, motioning towards one of the beds, your cheeks flushing at the silent invitation. 

Nervously, you make your way towards her, her hand immediately settling on your bare stomach before she nods towards the bed.  

“Do you want to share?” She asks in an uncertain whisper. 

You gently take her chin between your thumb and index finger, tilting her head upwards until her blue orbs meet your Y/E/C’s.  

“I’d love nothing more.”  

Eventually, you turn the overhead light off, and shuffle into bed, the flickering TV the only thing bringing some source of light to the room.  

Alex leans back, her blue orbs dragging down your front, taking in the scars covering your chest.  

Your breath hitches in your throat when she ducks down, gently kissing a long scar running along your collarbone before turning her attention to the others she can reach.  

Your eyes flutter shut, the feel of her lips a complete contrast to what it felt like to get the scars in the first place.  

You can feel the tears streaming down your cheeks before you realize you’re crying. 

Alex pulls away from you, tears forming in her own eyes when she sees you’re crying.  

She cups your cheeks, pressing a tender, and loving kiss to your lips.  

“Shhhhh.” She coos, her fingers running through your hair as you bury your face in her neck.  

It isn’t long before you fall silent, falling fast asleep, tear tracks visible on your face as your childhood best friend holds you tightly.  

She ducks down, kissing the top of your head, a hum leaving you as you snuggle closer.  

“I love you Y/N, and I’m not going anywhere, no matter what.”  

**********************************************************************

The remainder of the journey is uneventful, Alex’s hand in yours more often than not, the woman kissing you tenderly any chance she got, realizing how much the feel of her lips against yours calmed you.  

Before you realize it, you’re passing the sign informing you that you’d made it, you’d made it to the place that held so many awful memories for you.  

You cling to Alex’s hand tightly, the woman noting the feel of your clammy palm against hers.  

“We’re here.” She whispers and you nod, your chest tightening.  

“Y-Y-Yeah...” You stammer, the air within the car becoming less and less until you feel as if you’re unable to breathe.  

Alex almost immediately pulls to the side of the road, gently cupping your cheeks, her forehead resting against yours.  

“It’s alright.” She whispers, taking your hand and pressing it against her own chest.  

“Try to match me.”  

You whimper, tears running down your face, but your breathing halts entirely when you feel Alex’s lips pressing against yours.  

You slowly part, noting the fact that your anxiety attack had been stopped dead in its tracks, your breathing slowly returning to normal.  

“Are you okay?” She says softly, her lips brushing yours as she whispers.  

Your eyes flutter shut, the tightness in your chest ebbing slightly, but not entirely going away, you knew what you had to do to get it to go away, and that was to confront your father.  

“I have to confront him before I’ll be okay.” You confess, Alex kissing your lips again before turning her attention to the road.  

“Well, let’s go do that.”  

Alex takes your hand, her fingers intertwining with yours as you stand outside the hospital where your father and mother are, the aforementioned woman making her way towards you, tears in her eyes.  

“Y/N...” She says, opening her arms, but quickly realizing the last thing she’d get was a hug from you, especially considering Alex had stepped partially in front of you, her protective side warming your heart considerably.  

Your mother comes to a stop, her throat bobbing.  

“I understand.” She says and your nostrils flare.  

“Where is he?” You say curtly, Alex gently squeezing your hand, earning a squeeze in return.  

Your mother frowns before nodding to the hospital.  

“This way.”  

**********************************************************************

Your mother didn’t even attempt to make small talk on the way to the room, she knew you weren’t there to embrace her and forgive her for everything she didn’t do when you were growing up.  

Alex’s hand remained in yours, even as your grip on her hand became painful, she didn’t let go.  

You needed an anchor, and she would be that anchor, for as long as you needed and as long as you would let her.  

Your mother comes to a stop outside one of the many hospital rooms before turning towards you, her hands clasped in front of her.  

“He’s in here.” She says, unable to look you in the eye.  

“Please, try not to upset him, he doesn’t have much time left.”  

Your lip's part, your nostrils flaring angrily, before you can speak however, Alex beats you to it.  

“Yeah, because he cared so much about not upsetting Y/N when she was growing up.” She bites, your mother having the decency to look remorseful.  

She didn’t abuse you, she never hit you, but she allowed it, and it was that thought that made you keep distance between the two of you, you weren’t about to forgive the woman who stood aside while your father scarred your body and beat you senseless.  

She simply nods before stepping aside, motioning towards the room, knowing full well that the visit wasn’t going to go how your father expected.  

You come to a stop, your chest tightening at the thought of seeing the man again, your free hand beginning to shake.  

Alex turns you towards her, the woman cupping your cheek with her free hand, the other in a vice grip.  

“I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.” She whispers, resting her forehead against your own.  

You nod, your throat bobbing.  

“Promise?” You whisper, your voice noticeably cracking.  

Alex smiles, closing the distance between you, her lips lightly meeting your own.  

Your mother meanwhile is unable to keep herself from smiling, happy in the knowledge that you had someone to care for you, unlike she had when you were growing up.  

You give Alex a barely visible nod, the woman taking your hand and stepping through the doorway with you, partially in front of you in a protective gesture. 

“There she is.”  

You come to a screeching halt, your eyes darting towards your father who’s resting in the hospital bed, looking much smaller than he did when you were growing up.  

“Well, aren’t you going to give your old man a hug?” He asks, his eyes still holding a hint of the anger you saw all the years ago.  

“No.” You say curtly, leading Alex further into the room, your hands now full-on sweating, your face flushed.  

“Why not?” He asks, his voice having an edge to it.  

“Why?” You ask, laughing humorlessly.  

You stare at the man blankly, realizing he had deluded himself into thinking you had no reason for not coming over and hugging him.  

“Are you kidding me?” Alex snarls, the woman taken aback when you move towards his bed.  

“Maybe because you spent my childhood beating the hell out of me?!” You roar, knowing your voice could be heard rooms away.  

His lips part, the man about to say something but you don’t care, rolling your sleeves up and showing him the scars on your arms.  

“Maybe this is why?” You yell, unbuttoning your shirt hastily, uncaring that you were basically standing in the hospital room wearing only a sports bra.  

Your mother is unable to stop her breath from hitching when she sees the scarred flesh of your torso.  

“Maybe this is why, DAD.” You say, your voice dripping with contempt. 

Your father remains silent, the anger you’d typically seen burning in his eyes still there growing. 

“I just wanted to see you before I go.” He growls, and you scoff.  

“Well, here I am.” You say, throwing your hands in the air, Alex watching in something akin to awe as you confront your abuser.  

“I’m not going to give you a big hug, and I’m not going to tell you I’ll miss you, because I won’t.” You bite, noting the jumping in your father’s jaw.  

“How dare you— 

“How dare I?” You bark out a laugh.  

“How dare you think I should come here and just forgive you, just forget what you did to me growing up, how dare YOU.” You yell, cut off by a nearby nurse.  

“Is something wrong?” She asks, her brows knitted in confusion.  

Alex turns to her.  

“This has been a long time coming, she needs this, let it happen.” She whispers, the woman shaking her head. 

“I never said I was sorry.” Your father mumbles and you’re unable to stop yourself from laughing.  

“Of course you didn’t, because you never felt bad for beating me.” You shake your head, the nurse, surprisingly, backing out of the room.  

“Well, you didn’t break me, you didn’t win.” You say, your hands balling into fists.  

“I came here to tell you that, and now that I did, I can move on with my life.” You say, turning towards Alex before leaving the room hastily, leaning against the wall outside of the room.  

Alex turns to your father, the man shooting her a glare, a glare she returns, her blue orbs smoldering.  

“You tried so hard to break her, but it didn’t work. She’s one of the best women I know, and I love her, more than you ever did, more than either of you ever did.” She snarls angrily, glancing at your mother who’s staring at the floor.  

“She’s better than either of you, she rose above your abuse and became an amazing and talented woman, someone I’m proud to call my girlfriend.” She says confidently, your eyes widening when you realize what Alex had just said.  

“Of course, as if she couldn’t disappoint me more.” Your father growls in reference to the fact that you and Alex were together.  

Your hands ball into fists, the thought of walking in and jacking his jaw prominent.  

“We don’t need your approval; we don’t want it.” She says, walking closer to the bed, the nurse who’d come in earlier coming towards you along with another nurse.  

“Y/N is a better person than you could ever hope be.” She growls, turning to make her way out of the room, shooting a glare over her shoulder.  

“I'm proud of her for coming here, for saying what she needed to say, and I know I put distance between the two of us growing up, but I’m going to be there for her no matter what, more than you ever were.”  She says before making her way out of the room, zeroing in on where you were leaning against a nearby wall.  

She hastily makes her way towards you, throwing her arms around you, squeezing you tightly.  

Unbeknownst to you, your mother had followed you out, wearing a frown.  

“I asked you not to upset him.”  

Alex relinquishes her hold on you, the two of you sending the older woman a piercing glare.  

“Well, I asked you to be there for me growing up, and you weren’t. Looks like neither of us got what we wanted.” You say, taking Alex’s hand, the nurses making their way towards you coming to a halt.  

“Don’t worry.” You say, glancing at the women.  

“We’re leaving.” You say, turning towards your mother.  

“The only reason you need to call me again is to tell me he’s dead.” You say, turning on your heels, and making your way down the hallway, Alex’s hand holding yours tightly. 

It’s only when you’re walking out of the hospital’s entrance that you break down, falling to your knees, your body wracked with sobs.  

Alex drops down beside you, wrapping her arms tightly around you as you sob loudly against her chest, the relief of finally telling your father how you felt, making you emotional.  

“You did it, Y/N. I’m so proud of you.” Alex whispers, running her fingers through your hair as she coos softly in your ear.  

You sniffle, tears streaming down your face, your nose running as you cry against her chest.  

Eventually, you fall silent, your body twitching every so often as you sniff.  

You pull back, your bloodshot Y/E/C orbs meeting Alex’s red rimmed blues.  

She cups your cheeks, leaning her forehead against your own.  

“How do you feel?” She asks as you breathe in deep, filling your lungs with air, your chest no longer feeling as tight as it did.  

You sigh, cupping her cheeks, wiping the tears Alex didn’t realize were streaming down her cheeks away. 

“Lighter.” You say softly, bumping your nose against Alex’s.  

You fall silent before your lips split in a grin.  

“Girlfriend, huh?” You tease, her cheeks flushing.  

“I-I mean...” She stutters, cut off by your lips meeting hers in a tender, chaste kiss.  

“I do like the sound of that.” You smile, Alex throwing her arms around you, giving you a tight squeeze.  

The two of you eventually make your way towards Alex’s car, your chest feeling lighter than it ever had before.  

“I’m so proud of you.” Alex says as she slips into the driver’s seat.  

You turn back towards the hospital, staring up at the hospital where your mother and father currently were, an abusive man you’d finally told how you felt, a demon from your past that you’d finally faced and conquered.  

You smile, slipping in the passenger's seat beside Alex, the woman immediately taking your hand.  

“You know.” You pause, turning towards Alex who’s wearing a tender smile.  

Your own lips split in a grin.  

“I’m proud of me too.” 

***********************************************************************

It’s nearly two years later that you find yourself back in your hometown, rain pouring down around you as you stand at your father’s grave.  

You stare down at the stone stoically, noting the fact that it doesn’t say anything about being a loving father, but only a loving husband.  

Your eyes widen when a dark shadow falls over you, a shadow belonging to an umbrella, an umbrella Alex Morgan is currently holding.  

You take her hand, your fingertips brushing the ring wrapped around her ring finger, a ring you’d proposed to her with not that long ago.  

Life had torn you apart, creating a distance between you so vast that you were not sure if the gap would be bridged, but it was also life that brought you together again.  

It was life that led Alex to confess her feelings for you, and life that led you to where you currently were now, standing in the middle of the graveyard, your hand in Alex’s, the band of her engagement ring cold against your palm.  

You turn towards her, smiling softly.  

“Are you ready?” You ask, her brows arching when she turns towards you.  

“Are you?” She asks, squeezing your hand as you turn back to the stone, nodding. 

“Yeah, I am.”  

Alex turns, her fingers intertwining with yours as you make your way back towards her car.  

You chance one last look over your shoulder, staring at your father’s stone again before turning away, eager to start your life with the woman currently holding your hand, your chest feeling lighter than it ever had before.  

After all these years, you were finally free, and you were free to live your life with the woman you loved, and that woman was your childhood best friend, and fiancé, Alex Morgan.  

[peoniesandflowers]

Caracalla's ABC headcanons

For the sake of the narrative, we will exclude that our little meow meow has syphilis.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) I think he would either crash out and fall sleep or just get up, get dressed and keep on with his day if you two just have done it in the middle of the day.

If there's time and he is not tired, he would spend some time teasing you and trying to make you laugh as you cuddle. He might have responsibilities, but he also wants to be as close to his partner as posible.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) His own: His favorite part of himself is his hands. He enjoys how rough they are after training and working hard. His partner’s: I feel like he would have thing for resting his head on his partner's lap, even nuzzle there; extra points if he gets his hair brushed with their fingers.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) He loves to mark you, so cumming either inside or outside is good for him.

If you let him do it inside he will get so happy, staring at it and maybe even playing with his fingers. Let him clean it out with his mouth, and you'll have him ready for a second round in a moment.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) If you are stronger than him, he won't admit it, but he loves to be tossed around, and not in a gentle or delicate way. Carry him on your shoulder, and he will be squirming of how exited he gets.

Also, he likes to watch, so if you both fancy anyone, he wouldn't mind AT ALL seeing you get knocked out by them. The only pay-off will be making you repeat over and over how much you prefer him.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) Due to his temper, he may not have a stable relationship or lover, but he did have a few… He at least knows what he likes.

F = Favourite position (this goes without saying) Again, I feel like he likes to watch and see, so you on top so he can see your face and missionary are a classic. If you make him angry or jealous, I feel like he would angry-fuck you either with a matting press or doggy style as he holds your head down :)

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) They are goofy, both in a funny and charming way since they like to make you laugh and get flustered, but also he likes to tease you the fuck out. I just feel like he talks and rambles a lot once he gets comfy with someone, so once he gets into bed with you he will start talking and making you questions and explaining stuff.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) I know he has the most precious bush and happy trail down there (i don't care that Romans shaved).

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) I feel that him being romantic would only happen in a possessive way. After all, he is so happy that you are only his.

Wanting to hear how good is it, how great he is, how no one else makes you feel like this. It will get him going for looong, needing to hear you for as much as you can bear it.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) Once a day, even if he knows he will see you. Twice if he is stressed. And I feel like he huffs and groans just a little while he does it.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) He actually loves it if you are able to keep up with his tease. Like, he is just an undomed brat, and if you are able to dom him a little once in a while you will be able to even hear him whimper your name over and over and over. Pull his hair a little, make him beg and ask nicely, don't let him cum until he knows how to behave… He is still the emperor tho, and he will make sure you remember that next time.

L = Location (favourite places to do the do) Since he is the emperor he truly believes that he can do it anywhere and everywhere. He has thought of finger you as you sit on his lap while he watches the gladiators fight on the arena, he also loves when you two go to the royal baths together and he can get handsy on you without being bothered… But I feel like his bed is his favourite place, specially since its where you get louder.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) Honestly, you being touchy and gentle to him is enough to make him feel flustered. But if you want him to drop whatever he might be doing, pull him from his necklaces with one finger and kiss him, even better if they are tight on him.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs) Getting hit. One thing is a playfuy spank from you or knowing that you like getting spanked, but another is using a lot of force on him or you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) I feel like he likes more receiving than giving, but it's still quite equal to how much everyone gets. And I KNOW he makes it sloppy when he gets more freaky, even slurping as he looks at you with a teasing smirk.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? Etc.) He gives you a moment to settle, and then he moves at a decent peace, not quick, not slow, just building your climax steady. He will get either faster or slower once you say you are close, depending on how merciful he is that day.

And again, I believe that this man will angry-fuck you if you make him jealous or just piss him off. Not assuring that you'll come if it happens.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) He loves it. It helps him to decompress on bad days and are fun to do if he finds you alone in a secluded room of the palace.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.) He may hear stuff from other court members and concubines and suggest them to you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?) Usually 2, even if they have jacked off that day. On good days when he is not tired, he can go up to 3 rounds if you give him time.

T = Toys (do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?) He loves the idea of using toys, both on him and you, but won't let you use toys alone. Either he is using them on you or he is watching you used them (and he learns that seeing you masturbate in front of him, pleading for hin to touch you, makes his mouth drool).

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) HE TEASES A LOT. He will caress and pet you in front of others, maybe even suddenly kiss your neck and softly bite your earlobe, or suddenly whisper in your ear as you are having lunch how much he wants you to ride his face, turning pround and make it seem as if nothing had happened. Make him pay it off he will be so so happy... that he will do it again.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) He is vocal, he talks to you, he asks questions, he wants to hear you. He may sometimes moan, but it's more of a huffer and groans. If you overstimulate him, he will whimper.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) I feel like he would sometimes make animal noises 💀 like not even in a kinky way, he just suddenly does it, like bark or imitate Dondus.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) Almost 10 cm, proportionally thick

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) He can function without you on his bed for like a week, but after that either he masturbates more or once he sees you, you won't leave his bed for a while…

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) You end up knowing when he needs to get the done did and just fall to sleep, and when he wants to cuddle and chit-chat as the tiredness of the day brings you both to sleep.

More headcanons

Geta's ABC (NSFW)

Maximus' ABC (NSFW)

Commodus' ABC (NSFW)

[kinardsevan]

conversations over popcorn

(this is what you shitheads have done to me. you're welcome.)

“You need to stop looking at that, hon,” Lou states as he settles on the couch next to Oliver. The younger one looks up at him with a skeptical scowl, letting out a huff as he sets his phone to the side. 

“It pisses me off,” Oliver answers, taking the bowl of popcorn his boyfriend passes off to him as the older man reaches for the TV remote and clicks the button for Netflix. 

“This I’m aware of,” Lou comments back as his opposite hand brushes over Oliver’s shoulder, his thumb stroking lightly back and forth as he clicks his name and starts scroling through the queue. “But all you’re doing in the process is letting them win. It’s obvious that they think the louder and more obnoxious they are, that eventually it’ll get you, Ryan, and the writing staff to give in.”

Oliver presses his back into the couch, drops his head back against his boyfriend’s forearm and looks over at him petulantly. 

“Except Ryan has said he doesn’t want that,” he grumbles. Lou nods, letting the other man vent. They’ve had these conversations before—with each other and with their friends—and it’s generally resolved itself with a huff and a peck on the lips in recent months—one Lou is only to happy to use to quiet the voices in his boyfriend’s head. Still, as the death threats increased and the voices seem to have gotten louder with the breakup storyline, Lou has seen the way it’s affected Oliver. And unlike Evan Buckley, Oliver is not one to have an emotional outburst; no, the artist in him will stew in silence, let the weight on his shoulders sink down harder as he gets angrier. 

“What do you want,” Lou asks him, raising an eyebrow. 

“I want it to stop,” Oliver answers, his brow still set in frustration. Lou snorts, letting on the slightest bit of a smirk, and it only irritates the younger man further. 

“Look, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to sound dismissive. But I don’t think that’s happening even in a perfect world. It’s why I took myself out of certain arenas last summer. It’s just easier not to engage,” he comments. 

“Right up until you bait the buddies with that interview,” Oliver mutters, although his tone is less irritated. 

Lou grins at him. “Plausible deniabilty, babe. I never said I was leaving. They assumed. It’s not my fault that they’re going to crash and burn on their theories. What was it you told Shanna? You show up, hit your mark?” 

Oliver slaps him in the chest, and Lou grabs his wrist, raising an eyebrow at the younger man. Still, Oliver’s expression doesn’t change, and Lou drops his hand after a moment, understanding the conversation isn’t finished. 

“It doesn’t piss you off,” Oliver asks. “I mean, e-even from an artistic standpoint?” 

Lou inhales a deep breath, understanding the question. For Oliver, it isn’t just about how he’s had to temper his expectations over the years, limit his engagement more and more. It’s about the fact that even something that has nothing to do with the show—like his photography instagram—still sees people acting out, still twisting things into something more than what the page is intended for—to share his art. 

“I mean, we do entirely separate things, artistically speaking, and I don’t mean by medium,” he answers. “I’m okay with keeping my work for me. I understand though with certain genres of your work, it’s different. There’s a bigger commentary on it all, and you should have the opportunity to share it, without it being defined by the show.” 

Oliver shakes his head as he bites down on the inside of his cheek briefly. He glances down at the coffee table both of their legs are kicked up on. “It pisses me off to no end that I can’t share any of our pictures. That we’re just expected to- to stay quiet about anything related to Buck, Tommy, or ourselves.” 

Lou nods, staying silent for a few seconds. He’s heard these words before, too. It’s not even about overly artistic images or pictures that would change the world. For the most part, the images he knows Oliver is referring to are candid shots—some on set and some from home—but they easily spell out a deeper discussion of things between the two of them. One in which Oliver caught him laughing, black and white, easily comparable to the expression on his face during their breakup scene, right before Tommy starts to panic. Kenny had been telling him a story while Jade was also trying to crawl up his leg. Oliver’s dog isn’t in the image, but Lou’s focus is on her as he laughs. It’s an intimately honest image, and the one Oliver had snapped two seconds after it had the same expression, except then Lou was looking up at him, and it was a picture that told its own story without any need for context. 

And then there was the one Oliver had been itching to show people for months now. It was from after the breakup on the show, when they’d finally sat down and got into the discussion of what they were to one another off-set, beyond just stolen kisses and an occasional meal shared while they discussed the direction of their scenes together. 

It was right after the episode had aired. Oliver already wasn’t feeling well that week, and the fandom noise had been loud. It didn’t help that Lou was shooting clear across town on SWAT, and so he wasn’t making it over to see Oliver as much. But then 911 went into their holiday hiatus, and during a weekend off, the older man took the trip back across the city and spent the weekend with Oliver—their first real weekend as a couple with a label on what they were to each other. It helped lessen the blow of Evan and Tommy, eased some of the hurt from the words they spoke as their characters, because even if that was all fake, it was still coming out of the mouth of the person they were sleeping with. 

Oliver had come out of the shower, trying to get his sinuses and lungs to sound less gunky. The mirror was still half-fogged, and he’d picked up his camera from around the corner as Lou was coming in to check on him. They were both dressed lazily in sweats and athleisure, and Lou had slipped in behind him, slid an arm around his waist. 

“Feeling better,” he’d asked when Oliver snapped the first photo, the younger man looking in the mirror as Lou’s forehead pressed lightly against his temple. 

“Little,” he’d answered. And then Lou had curled his fingers under Oliver’s chin as he was prone to do, turned the younger man toward him and kissed him. Whether it was intentional or reflexive, Oliver snapped a photo of that too. It was off-kilter and set to a soft focus, and yet another image that didn’t need words to explain. And it was likely one that would never be seen beyond them and their closest loved ones. 

Lou gives him a sympathetic look, runs his fingers into Oliver’s curls. 

“I don’t have the answers, love,” he comments after a brief silence. “But I think the best thing you can do is just remove yourself entirely from it. Turn off the notifications, click the ‘don’t want to see this’ option, and just separate yourself from it. it’s only hurting you in the long run.” 

Oliver presses his mouth together, contemplative of Lou’s statements. If he disagrees, he doesn’t say so. After a few more seconds of silence, he inhales a deep breath, and the irritation sinks out of his forehead. 

“You’re right,” he murmurs. “I know you’re right.” 

Lou smiles at him, and then Oliver reaches up and curls his hand around the man’s neck, pulls him down into a kiss. The older man hums into it, almost loses their bowl of popcorn when he tries to reach for Oliver’s wrist, but they both catch it, laughing into each other’s mouths. 

“Maybe we should actually watch this movie,” the older man states when they finally part. Oliver raises an eyebrow at him, already shifting the popcorn onto the spare seat beside himself. 

“Sure,” he answers. “Or we can make some art of our own.” 

[theehorsepusssy]

The old hood

A. Cucina! Cucina! Was a shitty chain restaurant I managed at the Rose Garden arena (1997-2004) paid well, free food. I weighed nearly 300 lbs

B. Red Lion Hotel parking lot. Where I had to park on game days. Busted smoking pot out of a beer can with my boss. Huge rats and feral cats. Surprised I didn't get fired....or rabies.

C. Memorial Coliseum. I dropped The Red Hot Chili Peppers spaghetti take out order and had to run back to restaurant to replace. Took it back unaccompanied, was waved thru and wandered around backstage trying to find who to give it to. Nearly ended up on stage holding a take out pan of spaghetti during Give It AwayNow

D. Jags was a bar in the hotel where I would go play Video Poker when I was too tweaked to be around customers at my job. It eventually became a Detox center and sober house years later. Fucked a couple straight guys who liked to get freaky for meth hanging out near here

E. Budget motel. Had sleazy sex here a couple times in 90s

F. Warehouse where they held Mr Drummer leather 1990 maybe. my friend stood me up and I was alone.....on acid . There was a sex party afterward-$20 . Large room covered in unrolled black garbage bags. Coil's Hellraiser soundtrack played. I was tripping balls. Saw guys climbing up on a dudes wheelchair and face fucking him. Saw someone getting fisted for first time. Was told to leave while getting a titty twister from leather daddy. Years later, my friend turned the downstairs into Dirty Little Secret salon/spa and that stupid Eagles song "dirty little secret, dirty little lies, dirty little fingers in everybody's pies" gets stuck in my head and I think of the aforementioned fisting I witnessed

G. Walgreens I went to daily. Where to buy needles with a side of eye roll because I would confuse my insulin size order with the dope size other order. No ATM fees there.

H. Head Shop across from Franks Noodle House. Lousy meth pipe selection. If any. Dunno. I never smoked it always some trick would whine that they would only smoke and we'd end up here.

I. Lloyd Center mall. The bottom level bathroom was a decent place to poop when I was homeless for a while

J. The park I had registered as my "home" when I was homeless.

K. The hotel where I went to a Craigslist sex party and the host had a suitcase full of Ethyl Chloride cans and huffed so much we thought he died for a moment. Half the guys attending kept repeating " I'm straight, I've never done this before" I wish I had a camera

L. My mom worked here. I avoided these blocks for years, afraid of bumping into her while I was high

M. Tony Roma's Ribs. This was an occasional night out for me and Robert 1992-95. There used to be street whores on MLK back then

N. Hotel to party at. Call girls worked this one hard. You could still smoke in the rooms

O. The Red Robin I worked at for 2 weeks 1996. Worst job ever. I was told to learn to steal cuz no one tips. It was true

P. Courtyard Marriot. I would use lobby ATM for dope money if I was in a hurry. Met a online hookup there many years earlier who used a fake pic. Got there and dude was like 500lbs and asks if I can give him some meth and i ask how much he want to spend and fat boy gets all cheap and wants free and I'm thinking if I want to try and rob him before a moment of clarity and I leave

Q. The McDonald I got "groceries" at the last year I was using. I ate maybe once a week. I weighed 150lbs. It's by a Burger King that never had any customers the 20 years I was in the area. Is it a mirage? Is it haunted? Is it a money laundering front?

R. The 7/11 where I bought Camel Lights and Diet Mt Dew everyday. The old owners would whip out their shotguns when robbed. The new owners just let the robbers take the money

S. The seminary and Catholic church. You would see priests with unaccompanied minors at the Wendys across street. Suspicious. One night I was out smoking a cigarette and all the Catholics came marching out of the church playing Jesus dress up for Easter and the parade passed me and one dude thought I looked destitute and whipped out some cash for me and all Bless You my child or some shit. I was gonna give it back but went up to 7/11 for cigarettes and Diet Mt Dew. Thanks Jesus!

T. The Merrick. Casa de Horsepussy 2009-2016. 90% of all those old pics I post are on that block

U. Serene Court (a.k.a. Syringe Court) apartments.Used to be cheapest apartments in downtown area when I first moved here. Was exotic to cross the river from downtown proper to buy a bag of crank in this spooky old place

V. The Yards. I had an employee who sold pot lived here. I had to fire him. It was awkward as fuck

W. The Greyhound station was where to find heroin from someone who sold to someone I knew. Probably an open fent market these days

X. The Main Post Office. I had a meth dealer 2002ish that would mail tweak to NYC cuz those people would pay ridiculous price for an 8ball. He would get nervous about going in saying he was too high and have me mail it. Only later did he tell me what was in package

Y. Fancy loft area where one time I was having very intense drug induced roll play sex with some guy and he was veering into some script where I was his wife who drugged his beer and yeah, ok but then I think he just wanted a beer but it was all blurred reality with the sex game and I put 2 Zyprexa in his beer bottle and dude went down...hard. I had to dress him and get him back to his loft but he was practically dead from the sedatives and I didn't know where he lived exactly and just kind of rolled him out the car onto the curb off Lovejoy and sped off at 4am.

Z. My dad worked at some building under the 405. I lived a few blocks up the street and would find other routes to walk to the arena for fear of running into him

[harryspurpleloofah]

I am not sure if you have seen the performance Harry did at MSG with Kacey Musgraves ("You're Still The One" by Shania Twain), but I would love a one-shot based off of something like that. Maybe the reader is also a singer and she and Harry have been secretly dating and that song is how they announce their relationship? And, of course, I would love for it to be smutty if you feel it. I LOVED "Elevator" and I am about to go and read "A Taste of You Instead".

Hii! Thanks so much for requesting I’d love to write this for you! As a massive Shania Twain fan I loved this show too I’ve seen it and LOVED it. Thanks for reading my work let me know what you think of a taste of you instead 💜 if anyone else has any requests would love to take more

Still The One

(Picture is not mine)

Summary: Harry and Y/N have been dating for a while now but the public has never picked up on it since they e been successful at keeping it low key. One day though Harry and Y/N plan a surprise for their fans at MSG.

TW: swearing, smut, p in v sex but reader is on birth control, nipple play, tit sucking, clit stimulation

The hum of the crowd echoed from the arena beyond, a low, electric thrum that seemed to vibrate through Harry’s chest. He sat on the edge of the couch in his dressing room, pulling on his boots and adjusting his jacket, though his mind wasn’t entirely on the preparations. His thoughts kept drifting to the moment that was fast approaching—the moment everything would change.

His phone buzzed on the table in front of him. He didn’t even need to look at the screen to know who it was. A grin tugged at his lips as he reached for it, his fingers swiping to answer before it could ring again.

“Hey, you ready?”

Her voice was warm and familiar, with a hint of teasing. He could practically picture her, her smile lighting up even over the phone.

“Yeah I’m ready. But I was just making sure you are. You still in?” Harry asked, trying to mask the slight edge of nerves that had crept in.

“Of course,” she replied with that same confident ease that made his heart race every time he heard it. “I’m almost there. Five minutes tops.”

He let out a slow breath, leaning back against the couch as he ran a hand through his hair. “You sure? No backing out now.”

She laughed, the sound low and knowing. “Are you nervous, Haz?”

“Not nervous.” He paused, glancing down at his phone and the growing list of messages and show notes. “Just...figuring out how this is going to go.”

There was a soft chuckle on the other end, and then her voice softened. “You know we’ve been planning this for months, right? It’s just a song, Harry. And it’s ours.”

His heart thudded at the words. Their song. The one they’d practiced in private, their secret duet that would be unveiled for the world to see. He rubbed his thumb over the phone’s screen as if he could touch her through the distance.

“I know. I’m just...” He shook his head, a quiet laugh escaping his lips. “You’re a lot braver than I am.”

“That’s debatable,” she replied. “But don’t worry. I’ll be there in five.”

“See you then. Love you.”

“Love you more. Bye.”

With the call ending, Harry stood up and walked to the mirror, adjusting his jacket one last time. His reflection stared back at him confident and ready for the show of a lifetime. But tonight wasn’t just about the music. Tonight was about her, about them finally stepping into the spotlight, together.

He stepped away from the mirror and turned toward the door. His pulse quickened at the thought of her walking in, her face lighting up as she stepped onto the stage, and how in just a few hours, the whole world would know.

The energy in Madison Square Garden was electric. Harry’s voice still lingered in the air as the final notes of his last song faded out, the crowd still roaring from the performance. He stood center stage, bathed in the golden light of the spotlight, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips as he took a moment to collect himself. The audience's excitement was palpable, the adrenaline of the show still buzzing through him.

He wiped the back of his hand across his forehead, catching his breath, before leaning into the mic. The crowd quieted, the anticipation building in the air like static.

“Alright, alright, thank you so much,” Harry said, his voice warm and steady, yet carrying the hint of something personal, something more intimate. “It’s been an incredible tour so far, and I’ve had the pleasure of sharing the stage with some amazing people.”

He paused, glancing down at his shoes as he chose his words carefully. The crowd, sensing something was coming, leaned in a little closer. Harry smiled softly, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he looked up. “But there’s one person I’ve been lucky enough to share this whole experience with… someone who’s very special to me.”

The murmur of curiosity rippled through the crowd, but Harry wasn’t ready to give it all away just yet. His gaze flickered towards the side of the stage, where you were just about to step out, your silhouette barely visible behind the curtains.

“I’m not going to give too much away,” he continued, his tone light, teasing. “But she’s an incredible talent, someone I respect deeply. We’ve spent a lot of time together on and off the stage, and I couldn’t be more excited for you all to finally see her.”

Harry’s gaze softened, a hint of affection in his smile. He cleared his throat before continuing. “So, without further ado...please welcome someone who is incredibly important to me, and someone who I’m beyond proud to have here with me tonight. Please give it up for the very talented, Y/N!”

The lights shifted, and the crowd erupted into applause as she stepped out onto the stage. As she walked toward him, Harry couldn’t help but smile. It was more than just the crowd’s reaction that made his heart race, it was the sight of her, stepping into the light beside him. The moment they’d been waiting for, where their secret was no longer a secret, and everything they shared would be known to the world.

She took his hand as she joined him on stage, her fingers brushing against his, the familiar warmth of her touch calming the fluttering in his chest. The cheers from the audience were deafening, but Harry couldn’t hear anything over the sound of his own heartbeat thumping in his ears. He squeezed her hand, trying to steady himself.

“You ready?” he asked, his voice low, only for her to hear.

She gave him a soft smile, her eyes full of warmth and confidence. “Course I am.”

And with that, they began to sing.

The familiar chords of "You're Still the One" filled the air, and for the first time, the entire world knew what had been hidden for so long. The connection between them was undeniable. Their voices blended together effortlessly, each note coming from a place of shared history, of countless hours spent together behind the scenes, rehearsing, laughing, and just being.

As they sang the chorus, Harry’s hand found hers once more, their fingers lacing together as they shared the mic. The crowd’s applause had faded into the background, the world shrinking down to just the two of them.

Her heart raced as she looked at him, her eyes meeting his for just a moment, the weight of everything they had hidden suddenly feeling so light. This was their truth. And in that moment, everything felt perfect.

“Thanks so much for having me tonight!” She shouted in the mic over the deafening cheers of the crowd, “I’ll leave you to it.”, she said to Harry with a smile before putting the mic on the stand and waving goodbye as well as blowing kisses to the people of the arena before disappearing backstage.

"Alright, alright," he said, his voice warm and light. "I know, I know…it’s a lot to take in, huh?" His grin widened, and the audience laughed, the tension lifting just a little. "But before we go on, I just want to take a minute. I know some of you might be a little…surprised, but I need to say this."

"Y/N and I have been together for a while now," he started, his voice steady and filled with affection. "We’ve kept it private for reasons that I’m sure most of you can understand, but the thing is…she means the world to me. More than I could ever really put into words."

He let out a small breath, “I’m not here to overshare or get all mushy on you, but I do want to ask one thing, and it’s important to me..please, show her the same respect and kindness that you’ve shown me over the years.”

The audience seemed to soak in his words, the mood shifting from one of curiosity to understanding. Harry smiled, his heart swelling with the quiet, simple truth of what he was saying.

“She’s an incredible person, and I’m so lucky to have her by my side. I just want you all to know that. It’s not any of her fault that she’s dating me and I am who I am and my life comes with some amazing perks that I am so so thankful for. But I think you can all guess there’s a bit of an ugly side to it as well and I don’t want her to see any of that just for the mistake of dating me.”

The crowd had settled down slightly now and fortunately it looked like most if not all of them were understanding what Harry was saying, some nods and cheers accompanying his little speech about her. He smiled before continuing.

“I would like to again remind you all to remember that everyone is a person even celebrities, and we thank you so much for all the love that’s been given to us on your part but we also request that you please don’t make judgements about anyone before knowing hem personally. Thank you so much.”

The crowd cheered along in agreement, a few people already cooing and recording the speech he was making.

“Right enough of the sap we’ve got a show to put on people!”, he grinned widely as the crowd roared for him. He gestured to his band to start playing, “Now Madison Square Garden I’ve got a great song for you so up on your feet and sing along if you know the words it’s Kiwi!”

The thunderous applause was still echoing in Harry’s ears as he walked off the stage, his heart racing from the sheer energy of the performance. His face was flushed, his curls damp with sweat, but he couldn’t stop smiling. The show had been a success, and more importantly, the weight of their secret was finally gone.

He pulled the towel from around his neck and wiped his face as he made his way through the bustling backstage area. His mind was set on finding her, his grounding presence, his partner in everything. And then he saw her.

Y/N stood near his dressing room, her arms crossed casually, but her face lit up the moment their eyes met. She looked radiant, still riding the adrenaline of being on stage with him, and the sight of her made his chest tighten in the best way.

“There you are,” he said, his voice low and filled with warmth as he approached her. He tossed the towel onto a nearby chair and opened his arms, pulling her into a tight embrace.

She melted into him, her hands resting against his back. “You were amazing,” she murmured, her voice muffled slightly against his chest.

He pulled back just enough to look at her, his hands resting on her hips. “We were amazing,” he corrected with a grin. “Couldn’t have done it without you. Seriously, I mean that.”

She shook her head with a laugh. “You’re the one who had them in the palm of your hand all night. I was just along for the ride.”

Harry tilted his head, his gaze soft but unwavering. “You’re not just along for the ride, love. You’re the best part of it.”

Her breath caught at his words, and for a moment, the noise of the world around them seemed to fade. Harry reached up, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his thumb lingering against her cheek.

“I feel so relieved.”

Her smile softened, and she nodded. “Me too. It’s a relief, you know? Finally being able to just…be.”

He studied her face for a moment, his gaze dropping to her lips. “Feels fucking good,” he murmured. His hand slid to her hip, tugging her a little closer, and his voice dropped lower. “You know what else feels good? Watching you out there, in that dress, singing like that…”

She gave him a teasing look. “Harry, you can’t keep it in your pants for one night?”

He laughed softly, shaking his head. “Nope. Not when you look like that.” His hand wandered, brushing along the small of her back, then down to her ass. He gave it a light squeeze, his lips twitching into a smirk when she gasped. “I’ve been thinking about this since soundcheck. You know what you do to me, don’t you?”

“Harry,” she hissed “Someone could see us.”

“Let them,” he shot back, his voice low and thick. “We’re not hiding anymore, remember?”

Her breath hitched when he pressed her back against the wall, his lips ghosting over her jawline. “You’ve been driving me mad all night,” he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. “You think I’m just gonna walk away after that?”

Her fingers curled into his shirt, her resolve slipping with every word. “You’re so annoying.”

“And you love it,” he said with a grin before finally capturing her lips in a slow, filthy kiss. His hands roamed freely now, sliding over her hips, her ass, pulling her against him so she could feel exactly what she was doing to him.

She moaned softly into his mouth, her hands tangling in his sweaty curls. “We should..probably go somewhere else,” she mumbled against his lips, though her grip on him didn’t loosen.

“Mm,” he hummed, trailing kisses down her neck. “Couldn’t wait that long if I tried.”

But he pulled back to grab her hand. “C’mon. Dressing room. Now.”

Her heart raced as he led her inside, shutting the door behind them with a click. His eyes were dark when he turned back to her, and the way he walked toward her, his shirt already half-unbuttoned, sent a thrill straight through her.

“Now,” he said, his voice rough, “where were we?”

She let out a gasp when his hands slid up her sides, slipping under her dress to grip her thighs. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as he pressed her back against the wall of the dressing room.

“You looked so fucking good out there,” he continued, his lips dragging along her jaw and down to her neck. “This dress…every time you moved, I couldn’t stop thinking about what’s underneath.”

“Harry,” she breathed, her voice shaky but edged with want. Her hands moved to his chest, fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. She couldn’t focus enough to undo them properly—not with the way his mouth was working on her skin, his teeth scraping lightly before soothing the sting with his tongue.

“Hmm?” he hummed, the sound vibrating against her throat. “What is it, love? Want me to stop?”

“No! Fuck-don’t,” she shot back, her words more confident than she felt

He grinned against her neck, his hands sliding higher until they were just under the curve of her ass. “Alright love.”

With a firm grip, he lifted her off the ground, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. The move sent her dress riding up her thighs, and the friction of his trousers against her bare skin made her gasp. He carried her over to the couch in the corner of the room, sitting down with her straddling him.

The position gave him full access, and he wasted no time letting his hands wander, slipping under the thin straps of her dress to push them off her shoulders. She helped him along, her breathing shallow.

“Fuck,” he groaned, leaning back slightly to take her in. His hands cupped her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples, and the way her back arched into his touch made his cock throb against the tight confines of his underwear.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he muttered, his eyes dark as they flicked up to meet hers, “you’re on the pill right?”

“Yeah-yeah I am.”

She reached down, her fingers deftly working to undo his belt. He helped her along, lifting his hips just enough to shove his trousers down, his boxers quickly following.

Her eyes dropped to him, her lips parting as she took him in. Harry’s breath hitched at the look on her face, and he couldn’t stop himself from leaning up to kiss her again, rougher.

“Come here,” he whispered, his hands gripping her hips as he helped her lift herself over him. The anticipation made his head spin, and when she finally sank down onto him, both of them let out matching groans.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he muttered, his hands gripping her tighter as he tried to stay still and give her a moment to adjust. But she didn’t wait, her hands braced on his shoulders as she began to move, slow and deliberate at first.

The way she rolled her hips had him biting his lip to hold back a string of curses. “You’re gonna kill me,” he said, his voice strained.

Her response was a breathy moan, her nails digging into his shoulders as she picked up the pace. The room filled with the sound of their bodies moving together, her quiet gasps and his low groans mixing in a way that made it impossible to think about anything else.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his hands guiding her movements. “Just like that. Keep going—fuck—you feel so good.”

She leaned forward, her forehead resting against his as she moved faster, the pleasure building between them. “Harry,” she whimpered, her voice barely audible over the sound of their heavy breathing.

His mouth was on her then, hot and wet as he sucked her nipple into his mouth.

“Fuck,” she gasped, her back arching as his teeth grazed her. The other breast wasn’t neglected for long, his free hand kneaded it, his thumb circling her nipple while his tongue flicked over the other.

“Always so good for me,” he murmured against her skin, his lips moving to the curve of her breast before sucking another mark into her flesh.

His fingers found her clit. He rubbed slow, deliberate circles, watching her face closely as her head fell back and her mouth parted.

“Harry,” she whimpered, her hips bucking against his hand.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured, his lips finding her neck again.

With the combination of his finger rubbing her clit and his cock sliding in and out if her again and again, she found it easy to let go for him. She came with a guttural moan and he soon followed suit.

They stayed like that for a moment, tangled together on the couch, their heavy breaths the only sound in the small room. Harry’s forehead rested against Y/N’s, his hands lazily tracing patterns on her back as they came down from the high.

“Still with me, love?” he asked softly, a teasing lilt in his voice as he brushed a damp strand of hair from her face.

She gave a breathless laugh, her lips curling into a satisfied smile. “Barely,” she admitted, her fingers sliding over his chest, tracing the faint lines of his tattoos.

“Good,” he said with a smirk, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth. “Means I’m doing my job.”

She rolled her eyes, but her smile didn’t fade. “Fuck you.”

“Love you too.”

“It feels good, doesn’t it? Finally being able to be us.”

“Better than good,” he said, tilting her chin up so she had to meet his eyes. “Having you out there with me, hearing the crowd cheer for you, knowing we don’t have to hide anymore..it’s everything I’ve ever wanted.”

Her heart swelled at his words, and she leaned in to kiss him softly, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment. When she pulled back, she grinned, her fingers lightly tugging at his messy curls.

Y/N groaned dramatically, burying her face further into his neck. “Don’t wanna move.”

“Neither do I,” he admitted, brushing his nose against her hair. “But I reckon we’ll both feel better getting home. You good enough to slide off me, sweetheart?”

She nodded, sitting up slowly with his hands steadying her hips. He winced slightly as they parted, the loss of her warmth immediate but softened by the sight of her fixing her dress.

He adjusted himself, pulling his boxers and trousers back into place before standing to grab his shirt. As he buttoned it up, he glanced over at her, catching the soft smile she sent his way.

He grabbed his car keys from the side table, “get dressed baby honey we’ll go home.”

She stretched but soon got up and put on her clothes. That night they got home and enjoyed each other’s company to the fullest along with Legally Blonde, two cups of hot chocolate and a beautiful atmosphere of relief and warmth.

[invenusworld]

shatabhisha

shatabhisha natives are highly prominent in their arenas and often unconsciously set the 'rules,' standards & framework for their respective fields

johann sebastian bach, shatabhisha moon, is arguably the most prominent composer of the baroque era of classical musical, his name and works often overshadowing those of his contemporaries'

shatabhisha is deeply entwined with the notion of boundaries — a symbol of shatabhisha is an enclosed circle and the planetary ruler of shatabhisha is rahu, who is associated with labelling, defining (thereby limiting) and categorization. the innovation, genius & creativity of shatabhisha is often sparked by self-imposed limitations and rigid guidelines. this is perfectly encapsulated by john m. reese in his essay 'Concepts of the Composition Style of J.S. Bach'

"Bach is legendary for his mastery of counterpoint, particularly in late works such as the Musical Offering and the Art of the Fugue. When I try to explain to musical novices the challenge Bach faced in writing some of these works, I use the analogy of writing an essay of 500 words or more, where the entire essay forms a palindrome (reading the same from front to back), where you are not allowed to use the letter "e", where all the syntax is correct, and where, finally, the end result makes perfect sense.

Bach performed similar feats in writing fugues that were invertable in their entirety (e.g., could be played upside-down), canons woven around an existing melody in which the answering voice is augmented and transposed to a different key, and canons on an existing melody in which the answer is inverted, and which was also playable with the entire canon inverted. It boggles the mind that such sophisticated thought, rivaling that required of computer scientists, was being done in the early eighteenth century"

(shatabhisha relating to technology and all forms of technological advancements)

ultimately, this is a fascinating nakshatra with seemingly infinite creative potential and the ability to find inspiration in the most mundane. with a highly observant disposition and a keen eye, these natives see the world through a lens of synchronicities and patterns. shatabhisha is of the infinite, vast, all-pervading ether element & these natives' works and influence penetrate and permeate through the ages ϟ

[im-not-a-ghost]

Mini PAC - Details about your soulmate/TF using game cards and letters

Group 1 - Cassette

Banana card : they are fruity! If they’re a man, they have big D energy. They are joyful. They come from a warm climate country. Possibly an island.

Bunny card : this person is super cute and lovely. They look like a baby. They are very kind and soft with others. They have a high sex drive. Their teeth and ears could be parts of their body that you like about them. They feel very innocent and vulnerable.

Airplane card : this person likes to travel for fun and/or travels a lot for work. They live at a distance from you. They enjoy fast communication. They are active. They are curious and love to be challenged.

Letters : T H U N L I I O E Z E I C U Y I M A

Words or names I picked up on ( feel free to add more to the list in the comments) :

Liam, Theo, Noah, Noe, Zain, Zina, Zelie, Mona, Mina, Naim, Chloé, Chile, Lucy, Milan, Athene, Luna, China, mole, eye, cutie, cinema, zinc, camel, thyme, chain, lion, Leo, Helio, Nile, mint, maze, hazel, mountain, cunt, aconite, Lyna, Lina, Alice, menace, county, yen, Celine, TMI, TUE(sday), OCT(ober), autumn, Ciel, honey, Luca, Han, menu, hate, anime

Group 2 - Subway

Bicycle and train card : they live at a distance from you but it could be easily accessible. They enjoy traveling and/or they travel for work. They like biking.

Dress card : they are pretty feminine. They like to dress unconventionally. So if they’re a man, they like to wear skirts or high heels, to put on makeup. If they’re a woman, they’re a bit of a tomboy. They enjoy fashion in general. They could be a model.

Dolphin card : they are sociable. Their family matters a lot to them. They are very sensitive and in tune with their intuition. They have a kind and generous heart. They are playful, even flirty. They like water and/or leave near a body of water.

letters : W E E M S A U T T B A E E O R E N R

Words and names I picked up on (feel free to add more to the list in the comments) : tenor, Muse, water, Mona, Mason, Saturn, Beau, war, ram, Taurean, brat, bae, West, euro, won, MON(day), mount, sun, tarot, bus, runes, tan, beast, Roman, Roma, Meteora, Mars, ASMR, Ares, Arena, amore, nature, muerte, mentor, senor, Matteo, master, webmaster, woman, man, Erasme, Bruno, brunette, same, torn, tears, BTS, Naruto, Moana

Group 3 - Snacks

Letters X L N E J E E A O N A H N N L I R W L

Words and names I picked up on (feel free to add to the list in the comments) :

Hélène, Helena, Nia Jax, jail, Leo, Xena, hell, Joan, Joana, Jane, Jean, Jona, jean, Noel, Noe, Noa, lion, JAN(uary), Wall E, halo, hola, hello, Axel, Hoax, Jihane, Will, Jorah, horn, Jael, Jeanne, norn, helix, Halle, alien, Rollex, Rollin, Alienor, Jolie, Rio, Janeiro, Nelliel, Ronnie, Leon, Johann, Neil

Watermelon card : They support Palestine. They come from a warm climate country. They love summer. They love watermelon. They like your juice ;)

Tennis ball card : They are athletic. They enjoy tennis or any type of ball game. They got balls ;) They are swift and fast. They communicate quickly, they are witty and sarcastic.

Socks card : You'd feel very cozy with them. They have an odd but warm personality. They enjoy date nights snuggling by the fireplace or Netflix and chilling. They have cold feet.

[steddieas-shegoes]

naked under there

for @steddieholidaydrabbles pop up event 'graduation'

rated m | 940 words | cw: mention of illness (flu symptoms), mentions of sexual content | tags: established relationship, modern au, college graduation, sick fic, the laziest possible almost handjob you may ever see (that's why it's not even rated e)

🎓🎓🎓🎓🎓🎓🎓🎓🎓🎓🎓

Steve worked his ass off to get here, and now his ass was fucking cold.

This was definitely his own fault, but he hadn't considered the fact that the graduation ceremony was inside. With air conditioning. And fans blowing on the stage to help circulate more air.

Steve was naked under his graduation gown.

He was standing in an arena filled with nearly 1500 students and probably 5000 family members and friends, and he was naked.

Admittedly, not his brightest moment.

And what was worse, what was actually going to kill him, was Eddie called him an hour before the ceremony crying because he had a fever and migraine and body aches and Wayne wouldn't let him get out of bed. So he'd done all this for nothing.

He only had a few people ahead of him now, and his body was shivering. He looked out to find Robin, but she was lost in the sea of people already called to get their diploma sitting back in their seats. Steve was the biggest idiot here. They shouldn't even give him his diploma.

"Steven William Harrington."

He quickly made his way across the stage, smiling as he heard cheering in the upper level of the arena. All his kids had made it, though a couple of them didn't fly in until earlier that day and had to rush, so he didn't get to see them before he had to line up and get to his seat. Wayne promised to be there too, more of a parent figure for him in the last four years than his own parents had ever been. Even Nancy had made it, explaining that there was no way she was missing this when she'd helped so much with editing his papers.

As he walked off the stage, diploma in hand, he paused to smile for the camera that was taking pictures. He didn't think he needed them, but Wayne insisted on buying one to celebrate his achievement. He wanted to frame it and place it next to the picture he has of Eddie on his high school graduation day.

He forgot for a moment that the flash would make the pale yellow gown a bit more see-through. He forgot that the camera recording the entire session would probably capture this moment, too.

Instead of panicking, he walked back to his seat quickly, head down and hands holding his diploma in front of his entire crotch area. He was such an idiot, holy shit.

If he wanted to blame Eddie, he probably could, but really, this was all Steve.

Eddie had made a comment last week while he was fucking Steve against the wall that he couldn't wait to fuck him in his cap and gown. Steve couldn't stop thinking about being pulled into a closet after the ceremony, while everyone waited for them, Eddie lifting up the back of the gown and fucking into him.

Hence, being naked under the gown. Easy access was crucial when time was of the essence.

Except now, Eddie was dying of the flu in bed, and Steve was naked for no damn reason under this gown.

The shivering started again as soon as he sat in his seat. Why the hell was it so cold in here?

By the time they got to the last names beginning with Y, Steve felt miserable. He was freezing, but sweating down his back and neck, and the gown kept sticking to his thighs. His whole body felt sore and the pain behind his eyes was making its way to the back of his head and down his neck.

Would he get in trouble if he left early?

He had his diploma, and they were mostly done. He could go.

He left.

A few people around him told him to sit, but must not have felt the need to argue when they saw how miserable he looked.

His phone was buzzing in the pocket of the gown, but he couldn't bother to check it right now. He needed some fresh air and some water.

The fresh air helped slightly, but the sun hitting his eyes made him want to lay down and die. The headache increased exponentially as he tried to find a shady spot with no luck.

He could just walk back to the apartment. It was only three blocks.

Eddie was there.

His vision was slightly blurry as he made his way home, but he didn't need to see details to know how to get there. He walked this area every day for the last four years and now he was done.

He was done. Holy shit.

He barely made it in the door before he unzipped the gown and let it fall to the floor.

"Stevie?" Eddie's rough voice called from their bedroom.

He was so dizzy.

"Hey, Eds," Steve said as he climbed into bed, naked, sweaty, shivering, sick with the same illness Eddie was bedridden with.

"Sick?" Eddie whispered, eyes barely open as Steve turned on his side facing him in the bed.

"Think so."

"You're naked," Eddie said, eyes closing as he wrapped a hand around Steve's soft cock.

Steve let out a small moan, but didn't have the energy to do anything else. Neither did Eddie, it seemed, as he let out a small snore only a few seconds later.

Steve smiled to himself as he placed a hand on Eddie's chest and closed his eyes.

Eddie could fuck him in his cap and gown in a few days, like they planned, but this time, he wouldn't have to risk being caught in front of thousands of people.

[goldengleams]

game winner | ethan edwards

In which Ethan scores the game winner and wants to celebrate with you.

Based on this request: hi!!! how about something fluffy for ethan edwards? maybe like he’s being clingy after a game and the guys are making fun of you both

____________________________________________

The Michigan hockey team had won yet another game, this one being a thriller with a shootout. You had watched from the stands at Yost with all of your friends while cheering on the boys.

When Ethan had scored the winning goal, the whole arena had erupted in excited cheers. Even from the stands, you could see his big smile as his teammates crowded around him.

“That’s your boy!” Your best friend yelled next to you, shaking your arm. You laughed as she jumped up and down.

After dating Ethan for a while, you knew how talented he was, never doubting his athletic ability. Even though hockey was a world you weren’t familiar with, Ethan made sure to always include you with his friends and even tried to teach you how to skate. His friends quickly became your friends, too, and soon enough, you felt like a part of the group. You were closest with Mark and Luca since you had been in a class with each of them, but Ethan’s other teammates still cared about you just as much.

“I’m gonna wait for E to come out with the guys,” you called to her over the crowd. Your best friend was putting on her coat and already making plans to go out which you had declined in favor of seeing Ethan.

“Okay, Y/N! You going back to Ethan’s?” She asked.

You nodded, laughing to yourself about another night of cuddling in already too-small bed. While you always let out a few weak complaints, you never truly meant them. Cuddling with Ethan, especially when you could get the room to yourselves, was always a fun time.

You gave your best friend a hug and she climbed up the steps. You went the other way, knowing where to meet the guys after they went to the locker room and got ready to leave.

Absentmindedly, you scrolled through TikTok. There were already highlights of the game circulating with Ethan’s winning goal as the most exciting moment of the game. You smiled as you read the comments praising Ethan and the rest of the hockey team.

A few minutes later, you heard the door opening and saw Luca and Adam walking out. Both stopped to give you a hug, but Adam quickly said goodbye so he could meet up with his girlfriend.

Luca opted to stay with you, chatting about the game and the upcoming test in your class.

“You guys played awesome tonight,” you said, and Luca thanked you. Ethan was definitely the star of the night, but you knew that the other boys were still just as important.

“Ethan should be out soon, once he’s done soaking up the praise,” Luca teased. Luca had introduced you to Ethan when you were working on a group project last semester and you two had been inseparable ever since.

“I just texted him that you’re out here, he’ll come running out when he knows his shadow is waiting,” Luca said. You quickly smacked his chest in response and he let out a meek groan.

“I learned how to chirp from Ethan, so watch it, Luca,” you laughed. You both knew Ethan liked to soak in the post-game atmosphere, especially after a close win.

After a few minutes, you heard the door open again and watched a steady stream of boys walk out. You couldn’t see Ethan at first, but then you heard that familiar laugh and saw his hair flowing as his head was thrown back. Just the sight of him made you weak in the knees, and you couldn’t help but feel the adrenaline rushing through you.

You pushed away from the wall where you were leaning and stood up straight, practically bouncing on your toes with excitement.

You were about to call Ethan’s name when he looked up and you locked eyes. He rushed over to give you a hug. Ethan was squeezing you hard but it didn’t matter, it felt like you two were the only ones in the world.

“I’m so proud of you, Ethan,” you mumbled into his chest. He pulled away from you and planted a kiss on your lips, hand finding the back of your neck to guide you to him.

“That’s all I need to hear,” he muttered against your lips. You were aware that the two of you were standing right in the middle of the hallway with Ethan’s bag blocking more space, but you really couldn’t care less. Ethan and you were pretty affectionate in public and the guys were used to it.

It never stopped the teasing, though.

“Oh my god, I’m literally about to witness the creation of a child,” you heard from a familiar voice. Rutger made a gagging noise which set the whole group off into laughter.

“Let them live, Rutger,” you heard Nolan say.

“I’d like to live without seeing my two friends stick their tongues down each other’s throats,” he called back.

“I second that!” Mark said as he started to walk past the two of you.

You pulled away once he said that, realizing that you were getting a little too comfortable in the locker room hallway. Ethan whined at your movement, pulling you into another hug.

“Come over to my room?” Ethan asked.

“I was already planning on it,” you answered, smiling up at Ethan’s face.

“You guys are gross,” Rutger said in a sing-song voice.

“This is why you’re single and I have the best girlfriend ever, Rut,” Ethan said shamelessly. You hid your face to suppress your laugh but you heard the other boys laughing and agreeing anyways.

You wiggled out of Ethan’s grasp to give a few of the other boys a hug. Dylan was the last to walk past the two of you, offering you both a smirk.

“Uh oh, Y/N, Eddy’s clingy tonight,” Dylan joked. “Looks like you have a whiny winner on your hands.”

“I think I can manage,” you said.

“I’d like him returned to us by Sunday at midnight, no later or you’ll both be grounded,” Dylan said and you both laughed.

“You have my word, Mr. Duke,” you promised. Once Dylan left, it was only you and Ethan left in the hallway. He looked like a tired puppy with his hair falling in front of his eyes.

“You played awesome, babe,” you whispered. “Can’t believe I’m dating the best player on the team.”

Ethan gave you a big smile and said thank you. He was always so humble about his accomplishments that you made sure you gave him praise as much as you could.

“Ready to head out?” You asked.

“And ready to cuddle and watch a movie and eat some good snacks,” he said as he grabbed his bag to start walking. He kept rambling about what movie to watch as you walked out of the arena. Ethan was a big softie who just loved to spend quality time together, which you adored.

“But I’m most excited just to be with you, Y/N,” Ethan said, making you weak in the knees yet again. You took his hand and followed him out, feeling like the luckiest girl ever.

____________________________________________

I finally wrote something after surviving midterm week at college!! I'm on break now so hopefully more will be coming :)) enjoy!

[verrottweil]

some thoughts™ about guilliman x yvraine from someone who's been slowly reading their way through the lore. so buckle up, because i'm going on a tangent.

if i were to tackle their relationship, i would do so through correspondence, one that spans several centuries and occurs against the backdrop of yvraine's odessey. (and if yvraine is the titular ulysses, would that make roboute guilliman her penelope in the story? mmh...)

anyways, after the ultramar campaign, guilliman would set up a baseline framework of diplomacy with the ynnari, mainly through messengers and intelligence operatives. both guilliman and yvraine wouldn't be too heavily involved. a few passing glances at missives, listening to a meeting debrief, delegating assignments to trusted advisors, etc.

until the cooperation between the imperium and the ynnari tips over into a tentative alliance, and eventually, inevitably, guilliman would be required to sign off an official statement intended, for someone in the retinue of the visarch or, maybe even yvraine herself, and decides to foster some goodwill by sending her his personal regards. yvraine intervened in the battle against chaos on his chapter's behalf, after all. she aided in his reawakening by communing with her death god and disappeared shortly after. common courtesy. he can't afford to spare the affair more thought, not with the whole rotten weight of the imperium on his shoulders.

but yvraine does respond. perhaps on a whim. perhaps out of boredom, in a dead moment sometime during her exhaustive travels.

so, the next time an ynnari diplomat, the term is used generously here, graces the world of macragge, and guilliman receives a summary of the proceedings, a diligent scribe wrote down what the daughter of shades was supposed to have said. mind, there's room for error, for miscommunication, between two wholly different species. while yvraine's orginal reply could've been wry, dry or sardonic; the ynnari diplomat might've twisted the tone, and the human scribe might've blunted the edges even further. it prompts the primarch to spend a scarce few minutes detailing his health and the effects the armor of faith has on it.

a handwritten note with his seal, pressed into a diplomats' palm and then that of another.

when yvraine finally gets her hands on it, anxious and scatterbrained after another vision of she who thirsts devouring her soul alive, she interprets his message as amusing? curious? warranting something that satisfies her own ego? she jots down an answer on the back of his own note--how she couldn't have defeated a hive tyrant in the arena of commorragh with such a cumbersome armor, how her fighting style demands freedom of movement, speed, grace. when her quill hits the desk, her reply's twice the length she intended... but wouldn't it be a waste to toss the paper now? let the monkeigh read proof of her prowess.

and guilliman does, after a year or so. writes back too, inquiring after the drukhari--which, concerning the constant threat of their raiding parties, might be good to know the inner workings of. he pinches the bridge of his nose occasionally, pauses more than once. one sheet of vellum isn't enough. a sigh. unaware that it's the beginning of a proper back-and-forth.

sometimes nothing more than a paragraph. sometimes three whole pages of anecdotes, musings, advice when applicable but not always appreciated, questions and answers. a blot of ink, words scratched through, titles turning into signatures turning into initials.

until one day, after decades, yvraine sends him something akin to a dataslate. it's encrypted; needs some tinkering from a techpriest with. her voice fills his private chambers, picking up right where his last letter left off. she tells him about biel-than, about her time as a corsair, about the wych cult, about her visions, where she dies and dies and dies. can't resist a few jabs in between. at her former mutinous crew. at the drukhari succubi. at the imperium. at him, even. strange then that her peals of laughter secretly delight him.

(and could this be one of those he falls first, she falls harder situations? maybe, yes.)

the eve yvraine met up with eldrad ulthran on the ulthwé craftworld, in the privacy of her quarters, alone with her gyrinx, she lets her hair down, slinks onto a plush chair and presses play on the imperial dataslate that's traversed half a galaxy to get right there. with eyes closed, she listens to the primarch. to the curt click of his throat when he swallows. to the gaps in between words, pausing to think, to reflect. to his careful consideration. non-diagetic. how odd, she thinks, how endearing.

of course when guilliman gets to hear her detail how ulthran intends to send her to mortarion's whispering tower in order to retrieve the hand of darkness, he thinks anything but. even the astartes stationed two hallways away could hear their primarch pacing as he dictated his reply.

and is that concern in his voice she hears? haggard, but alive after the whole ordeal is over. after she's dragged herself to her quarters, worlds-weary with the biggest trials still ahead of her. i am well, she half-whispers, then exhales. i was victorious and i am well.

it took months for the dataslate to reach him. finally. roboute guilliman grips the armrests of his throne, presses the crown of his head all the way back until he nearly faces the ceiling, wishing this dreadful meeting to be done with already so he can listen. finally.

and is that relief in his voice yvraine hears?

[xoxorealitygalore]

Nasty Dancer IX

Summary: Due to her unyielding confidence, Aphrodite earns her spot on the main roster, becoming The Bloodline's manager — or rather, Sefa's Special Counsel. His Wisewoman. But can she maintain her bold, unapologetic style when faced with her greatest challenge yet: working alongside her ex-boyfriend?

Taglist: @xbriexx @christinabae @blackchickinthedesert @bratzzzdoll

Previous: Flashback 2

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SmackDown at the Capital One Arena was set to be another electrifying episode, with the atmosphere buzzing in anticipation of the night’s events. The crowd was already roaring with excitement as they filled the massive arena, creating an exciting energy that could only be matched by the sheer intensity of the competitors and storylines that had been building for weeks.

The opening of the show saw Wade Barrett stepping into the spotlight. With his gravelly voice and undeniable charisma, he started by addressing the absence of Joe Tessitore, who had been missing from his usual post. Barrett took the opportunity to fill the audience in on the situation before Vic Joseph threw to a video recap of last week's show.

As the camera transitioned from the recap, the unmistakable music of Cody Rhodes hit the arena, and the crowd went wild. Cody was known for his passion and larger-than-life personality, and he had a message to share with the world. The air in the arena was thick with anticipation as the American Nightmare made his way down the ramp.

Upon entering the ring, Rhodes immediately took to the microphone, ready to kick off his segment. His voice boomed through the speakers, holding the crowd's attention. "WrestleMania is right around the corner," Cody began, teasing his fans with the idea of his potential opponents. "But, I need to know what you think. Who should I face?" He started to run through a few options, with the fans voicing their opinions loudly in the form of cheers and boos. The energy in the building was electric as Cody bantered with the audience, feeding off their reactions.

However, Cody was interrupted before he could say much more, and the unmistakable sound of Drew McIntyre’s music echoed throughout the arena. The tension rose as the Scottish Warrior made his way to the ring, his eyes locked on Cody. The two men exchanged looks, and the air grew thick with the promise of an impending clash between them.

But before anything could happen, a new figure emerged from the backstage area: Jacob Fatu. He strutted down the ramp with a sense of purpose, his eyes focused on the ring. As he entered the squared circle, his imposing presence filled the space. "The title belongs with my family," Jacob declared, his words resonating with a sense of pride and determination. His family’s legacy was at stake, and Jacob was there to stake his claim.

Just as things were beginning to heat up, the video screen behind them flickered to life, showing the image of Solo Sikoa walking backstage. Solo wasn’t alone, though, beside him, in a striking contrast, stood Aphrodite, dressed in all white. Her elegance seemed to light up the screen, contrasting sharply with the gritty environment of the arena. Jacob’s expression shifted immediately, his face hardening as he noticed them. His frustration was noticeable, but before he could voice his displeasure, a moment of silence hung in the air.

"I get the first word with Solo," Jacob said to Cody, his tone sharp. But Cody, ever the confident showman, responded with a quiet yet firm, "I'll get the last." The words hung in the air for a moment as the tension between the three men simmered. After a brief exchange of words, the scene cut away from the ring, and the camera shifted to the backstage area. It was there that the dynamics of the evening truly began to shift.

Backstage, Joseph shared a private moment with Aphrodite. They were a striking pair, their chemistry undeniable as they conversed in hushed tones. "I hate that our first Valentine's Day together again had to be spent at work," Joseph said softly, his voice laden with genuine affection. Aphrodite, looking up at him with a gentle smile, brushed a strand of hair from her face. "We can do a late dinner after the show," she replied, her voice tender yet filled with warmth.

As their conversation continued, Joseph leaned in to kiss Aphrodite, but she playfully pushed him away, her laughter filling the small space. "Stop it. We’re at work," she reminded him, casting a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching. Unfortunately, someone had indeed seen them.

Savelina caught sight of the exchange. A smirk spread across her face as she approached, clearly enjoying the moment. "Oh! I know I ain't just see what I saw," she teased, her eyes dancing with amusement.

Joseph simply grinned. "You did," he confirmed, his voice dripping with a mix of humor and pride.

The interaction between the three of them continued for a while, with Savelina soaking in every detail of the unfolding relationship. Her smirk never wavered as the trio continued their conversation. But, as all things in the world of wrestling often go, duty called. Joseph and Aphrodite had to part ways to film another backstage segment, and the camera followed them as they made their way through the maze of corridors.

Meanwhile, backstage tensions were rising. Jacob Fatu and Tama Tonga were seen searching for Solo Sikoa. The two of them were intent on finding their family member, but Solo, visibly distraught, wasn’t exactly in the mood to engage. "I need time off. I let the family down," Solo admitted, his voice heavy with regret. He said he loved Jacob, but that didn’t seem to alleviate the sense of disappointment in Jacob’s eyes. With nothing else to say, Jacob and Tonga walked away from Solo, leaving the tension unresolved.

It was then that Aphrodite, ever the supportive figure, stepped in. She placed a hand on Solo’s shoulder, offering him some comfort in his moment of vulnerability. The two lingered backstage, their presence a silent support for the conflicted man. It wasn’t long before the main event rolled around, and the camera crew once again shifted its focus to the action.

The triple threat match for a spot in the Elimination Chamber had the crowd on the edge of their seats. Jacob Fatu, Braun Strowman, and Damian Priest were set to clash in a contest that would determine who would earn the coveted spot in the upcoming pay-per-view match. The bell rang, and the action erupted immediately.

Jacob and Damian wasted no time, quickly ganging up on Braun and sending him crashing out of the ring. For a moment, it seemed like Braun was the odd man out, but his raw power wasn’t to be underestimated. As the match progressed, Braun began to show signs of his dominance, launching a rampage that shook the ring. But Jacob and Damian, in a clear attempt to build their individual feud, went after each other relentlessly.

At one point, Solo, seemingly out of nowhere, appeared to lend Jacob a helping hand. But to Cody Rhodes’ surprise, he quickly ran to the ring to fight Solo off. The situation quickly escalated as Tama Tonga joined in the fray, but Cody, in a burst of intensity, managed to get the better of them.

From the ring, Jacob saw Solo hit Tama Tonga, and his reaction was one of fury. He assumed it was an intentional attack, one that broke the fragile trust between him and his family. The chaos that followed was a blur as all three men seemed to be locked in a battle of wills. But in the end, it was Damian Priest who emerged victorious, securing the final spot in the Elimination Chamber.

After the match, there was a brief, unexpected moment of respect between Cody Rhodes and Damian Priest. They shared a handshake, a gesture that spoke volumes about their mutual understanding of the stakes that had been raised in the fight.

Once the camera cut away from the action, the focus shifted to the backstage area once more. Joseph was seen returning, his body language telling the story of a long night. Aphrodite was waiting for him, and as the camera crew captured their exchange, Aphrodite spoke quietly. "They’ll understand soon," she told Joseph, her voice filled with quiet confidence.

The moment between the two of them felt intimate, almost like a promise of things to come. The tension of the night slowly started to ebb away, replaced by the comfort they found in each other’s presence.

As the camera crew wrapped up for the evening, Joseph and Aphrodite made their way towards the locker rooms. "I found a Mexican restaurant that stays open late," Joseph said with a grin. "I made us a reservation." Aphrodite, her face lighting up at the mention of food, nodded in agreement. "Okay, go get cleaned up and we can leave to head over there," she replied, a soft smile playing on her lips.

Joseph made his way to the men’s locker room, ready to clean up after the chaotic night, while Aphrodite, in her own way, ran into Trinity and Jon. "What are y’all doing tonight?" Jon asked, his tone light and teasing.

"We’re going to a Mexican restaurant," Aphrodite answered with a playful smile.

Jon’s words, however, caught her a bit off guard. "You kids be safe, use protection," he joked, clearly enjoying the moment.

Trinity, ever the voice of reason, slapped Jon’s chest in mock disapproval. "Ignore him," she told Aphrodite with a wink.

"I will," Aphrodite replied with a laugh. "Joseph and I are taking things slow," she added.

noitsreallyaphrodite 1h

The Mexican restaurant was a hidden gem, a place of warmth that seemed to wrap itself around you the moment you stepped inside.

The walls were painted in vibrant hues of red, yellow, and orange, each shade adding to the lively, yet inviting atmosphere. Intricately painted tiles adorned the walls, telling stories of Mexican culture and traditions. The soft, earthy tones of brown and terracotta grounded the space, giving it a welcoming feel. Above them, dim lighting hung like a soft embrace, casting a gentle glow over everything and creating an intimate atmosphere that felt both cozy and romantic.

The hostess greeted them with a warm smile, leading Joseph and Aphrodite through the restaurant’s warm, bustling interior to a private area tucked away from the main dining room. The space was secluded enough to offer them a sense of solitude but close enough to feel the pulse of the restaurant’s lively energy, a perfect balance for a quiet late evening.

The table was set for the occasion: a bouquet of fresh flowers sat in the center, their vibrant colors bursting against the soft glow of flickering candles. Delicate flower petals were scattered across the table, adding a subtle touch of romance.

Aphrodite’s eyes sparkled as she took in the scene, a soft smile playing on her lips. The thoughtfulness behind Joseph’s choice of this particular restaurant didn’t escape her, and she appreciated the effort he’d put into making their Valentine’s Day dinner special.

As they settled into their seats, Joseph couldn’t help but feel the tension in his body slowly unwind. The chaos of the wrestling world, the endless demands of their professional lives, and the weight of the day seemed to melt away. Here, in this warm, intimate space, all of that felt distant.

Aphrodite reached across the table, her hand brushing gently against his. The touch was soft, deliberate, and full of meaning.

Joseph felt it instantly, the warmth of her hand, the sincerity in her eyes. It was a simple gesture, yet it spoke volumes. It said everything he needed to hear: she was here, present with him in this moment, and nothing else mattered.

He met her gaze, his grip tightening slightly around her hand. There was something about the way she spoke, the quiet confidence in her words, that made him believe in the future where, despite all the turbulence and uncertainty, they would find their way.

In the face of the unknown, her words were like a lighthouse in a storm. They were a promise, unspoken but clear, that no matter what life threw at them, they would be okay.

The quiet reassurance between them was enough. They didn’t need grand gestures, lofty promises, or dramatic declarations. For now, in this small, peaceful corner of the world, they simply existed together. And that was all they needed.

As the evening wore on, their conversation naturally flowed from one topic to the next. It started with light-hearted banter, discussing the absurdities of life on the road like the bizarre encounters with fans, the strange habits of their colleagues, and the quirks of their backstage world. But as they continued, the conversation deepened, and they began to open up to each other about more personal matters.

With each passing moment, Joseph felt the distance between them dissolve further, until it felt as though there was no space left to close. He could feel the connection growing stronger, not just as a couple, but as two people who had truly found each other.

When their margaritas arrived, they clinked their glasses together, the sound ringing out softly in the quiet space. A gentle laugh followed, blending with the soft, ambient music playing in the background. The night outside seemed quieter as if the world itself had paused for a moment, allowing them to bask in this peaceful solitude.

Aphrodite leaned back in her chair, her eyes half-closed in contentment as she sighed. "This was nice," she said, her voice full of quiet satisfaction. "I needed this. Just to get away from everything, you know?"

Joseph smiled warmly, his eyes softening as he looked at her. "Me too," he said quietly, his tone carrying an unspoken agreement.

Aphrodite nodded, her gaze lingering on him for a moment before she spoke again. "Sometimes I think we forget to appreciate these little things. It's easy to get caught up in the chaos."

Joseph’s smile softened further, and he reached out to gently squeeze her hand. "We don’t forget, Aphrodite. We just get distracted. But we always find our way back, don’t we?"

She nodded, her eyes locking with his in a way that conveyed everything they both knew without saying a word. There was no need for further explanation. The bond between them was unspoken, understood without question. It was in the small, simple moments, the quiet exchange of a meal, the shared look, the way they could sit together in complete silence and feel entirely at peace.

As they finished their meal, the evening seemed to stretch on, the world outside slowing down just for them. The sounds of laughter and conversation from the rest of the restaurant began to fade into the background as the final moments of their dinner stretched on. Time felt less important here, what mattered was the presence they shared in this moment, in this space.

Eventually, the check arrived. They paid with the same quiet satisfaction that had marked the entire evening. There were no grand gestures, no extravagant displays of affection just a simple exchange between two people who had found something real, something genuine in each other.

As they walked out of the restaurant, the cool night air greeted them again, but it didn’t feel harsh. Instead, it was refreshing, like a reminder that the world outside was still moving, still full of noise and energy but here, with them, all of that could be left behind. For a while, they didn’t need to engage with the outside world. This moment, this night, was theirs.

The drive back to the hotel was as calm as the journey to the restaurant had been. The streets were quiet, and the city lights shimmered through the windows of the car, their reflections dancing across the surfaces. There was no need for conversation. The comfort of each other’s presence was enough. They didn’t need to fill the silence with anything more than what was already between them.

When they finally arrived at the hotel, they exchanged a brief, knowing look, no words were necessary. They both understood. The night had been everything they needed it to be.

And as they walked toward the elevator, Joseph couldn’t help but smile. Tonight had been perfect.

noitsreallyaphrodite 5m

It was Sunday afternoon as Aphrodite stood in the warmth of her home, her eyes flickering from one bouquet to the next, overwhelmed by the sheer volume of vibrant blooms she had received for Valentine’s Day.

The fourteen bouquets, each a beautiful arrangement from friends and family, were a testament to how much she was loved. Alongside them, four additional bouquets from Joseph stood proudly, each one a symbol of his affection and care. It wasn’t lost on her how much effort he was putting into their relationship.

The sun streamed in through the large windows of her living room, casting long shadows on the polished hardwood floor. Aphrodite’s mind, however, was far from the peaceful serenity of her surroundings.

Instead, her thoughts swirled, as she tried to figure out how to arrange the flowers, knowing that her garden was already starting to overflow with colorful blooms. She had become quite the expert gardener over the years, each season seeing her add new and exciting plants to her outdoor sanctuary. Yet, today, with so many flowers to deal with, she was at a loss.

Before she could settle on a plan, the door creaked open, and in walked her best friends, Jatae and Mona. Their presence was always a welcome distraction from the chaos of her thoughts.

“I think you may need to buy the house next door for their backyard, Dottie,” Mona said, taking in the view of the flowers. Her voice was filled with amusement as she surveyed the scene.

Jatae, ever the more serious one, simply nodded in agreement. “You think I should? I’ve been thinking about pulling a Kardashian and buying both houses on either side of mine and making a compound,” Aphrodite said, the words slipping out before she could stop herself.

Mona raised an eyebrow. “Why would you need a compound?”

“It’s just an idea,” Aphrodite said quickly, not really meaning it but secretly enjoying the fantasy of it all. A compound, she thought. It would certainly make it easier to store all these flowers.

Jatae let out a low chuckle. “She may be trying to pull a Kardashian and have a boatload of kids.”

Aphrodite rolled her eyes playfully. “I don’t think that’s going to happen anytime soon,” she said, though a quiet part of her did wonder what that life might be like.

The thought was nice, having a big family, maybe a few kids running around in the yard, laughter filling the air but it wasn’t something she was ready for yet.

Joseph’s name lingered in her thoughts as Jatae spoke again, a hint of teasing in her voice. “Oh, so that means things with Joseph are going well. Maybe that’s why you didn’t invite India to plant flowers with us today?”

Aphrodite’s smile faltered for a moment. “Things are okay with Joseph,” she said, trying to sound casual. “And I did invite India, she heard flowers and immediately declined,” Aphrodite said.

Mona shook her head, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “And we know India is public enemy number one when it comes to Joseph. She ain’t gonna believe that he’ll do right by you until something happens like God, himself coming and telling her that Joseph has changed. India won’t ever trust him until she sees some concrete proof that he’s changed.”

Aphrodite sighed, trying not to let the heaviness of those words get to her.

“I love India, but damn, once she hates you, she hates you,” Jatae said, and Aphrodite couldn’t help but nod in agreement.

“Well, to be fair, I did spend a good amount of time crying over Joseph, thinking my life was over after our breakup,” Aphrodite explained, her voice quiet but firm. “I think she gets a pass for not trusting him at the moment.”

Mona crossed her arms and leaned against the wall. “Yeah, but you’re happy now, so she needs to loosen up. You’re not the same person you were before. Things have changed.”

Aphrodite was quiet for a long moment, her thoughts drifting to her cousin Megan, another vocal member of the “we hate Joseph” club. Megan had always been adamant that Aphrodite shouldn’t have gotten back together with Joseph. Their rekindled relationship didn’t sit well with her, and she was quick to voice her concerns.

“I haven’t heard from Megan in a while, but she did text me a couple of days ago,” Aphrodite said, rubbing her temples. “She’s still very anti-Joseph, and she tried to ask me if I was ever planning on sitting down with Joseph’s baby mama. She feels like I need to find out why things didn’t work between them, especially with a ten-month-old baby in the mix.”

Mona and Jatae exchanged a look, both of them intrigued by this new development. Aphrodite could practically feel the wheels turning in their minds as they processed the information.

“Oh, God, not you two,” Aphrodite muttered, realizing where the conversation was headed.

Mona grinned. “Hey, you gotta think about it, Dottie. Three kids and the relationship failed again. Don’t you want to know why?”

Aphrodite bit her lip, unsure of how to answer. She hadn’t given much thought to the reasons behind Joseph’s past relationships. “No, I don’t,” she said firmly. “That’s their business.”

“Liar,” Jatae said with a smirk, clearly not buying her answer.

Aphrodite could feel her resolve weakening, but she was determined not to dig too deep into Joseph’s past. She didn’t want to be haunted by questions that didn’t have answers, especially ones that might cause her more pain than they were worth. “I don’t want to know,” she said again, though her voice held a tinge of uncertainty.

“Okay, I’ll find out then let you know what I find out about it,” Jatae said, not missing a beat.

Aphrodite rolled her eyes, a mix of exasperation and amusement crossing her face. “Whatever,” she muttered. “Let’s get these babies into the ground,” she said, eager to move on from the topic of Joseph’s past relationships and focus on the task at hand.

Later that night, as Aphrodite curled up on the couch with Joseph, the flickering light from the television casting shadows across their faces, she felt a familiar sense of peace. They had always been able to fall into a comfortable routine when they were together. Tonight was no different. They had chosen a light-hearted comedy to watch, the kind that didn’t require much thought but kept them both entertained.

As the movie played on, Aphrodite’s phone buzzed on the coffee table. She hesitated for a moment before picking it up, seeing a text from Jatae: “Girl! I got the tea.”

Aphrodite’s heart sank slightly. As much as she didn’t want to know the details, she couldn’t help but feel a nagging curiosity. She quickly typed back: “What’s the tea?”

Jatae’s response came swiftly: “So they broke up because he still wasn’t over you. No matter what she tried to do to make him move on, he couldn’t. She got tired of you taking up space in his heart, so she left. You got that power over him.”

Aphrodite’s breath hitched in her chest as she read the words. She didn’t know how to feel. Part of her was relieved that the breakup hadn’t been because of something more drastic, but at the same time, she couldn’t help but wonder what that meant for her and Joseph now. She had never thought of herself as someone who had that kind of power over him, but the realization sent a strange thrill through her.

Joseph, who had been glancing at her phone, raised an eyebrow. “Are you serious?” he asked, his voice low with a mix of concern and curiosity.

Aphrodite glanced up at him, surprised by the tension in his voice. She had expected him to be more lighthearted about the text, but the look on his face told her that he was upset.

“Sefa,” Aphrodite said, using his nickname, trying to gauge if he was angry or hurt.

Joseph’s frown deepened as he leaned back on the couch, his expression clouded. “You could have just asked me instead of sending your friends to snoop,” he said, the words laced with a slight edge.

“I didn’t send them. They just wanted me to know,” Aphrodite replied, trying to explain herself.

Joseph crossed his arms and stared at her, his gaze intense. “Right, so how do you feel now that you know?”

Aphrodite shifted uncomfortably. “Worried that your baby mama may hate me,” she admitted, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on her.

“She doesn’t hate you,” Joseph said, his voice softening. “She may not be okay with you being back in the picture at the moment, but I’m working on that.”

“I don’t want no baby mama drama,” Aphrodite said quietly, though the fear of it lingered in the pit of her stomach.

“You didn’t have any the first time around, so you won’t have any now,” Joseph reassured her.

Aphrodite raised an eyebrow. “Lies. We had drama, Joseph. You may not have thought it was drama, but it was. She didn’t have any boundaries, and I was constantly picking up the slack after you two with the kids. And she didn’t appreciate it when Zev accidentally called me ‘mommy’ in front of her,” she pointed out, remembering the uncomfortable tension from their previous interactions.

Joseph seemed to think about this for a moment, nodding slowly. “But we were good the majority of the time,” he said, though there was a touch of defensiveness in his voice.

Aphrodite rolled her eyes, not willing to let him off the hook so easily. “Whatever,” she muttered. “By the way, does she know I’m around her sons?”

Joseph nodded. “You know Zev can’t hold water. He immediately told her that they come over to your house,” he revealed.

Aphrodite paused, taking in this new piece of information. “And how does she feel about that?”

Joseph’s expression softened. “She knows you’re a good person, so she’s only worried about being kept in the loop about the boys being over here.”

Aphrodite nodded, the conversation leaving her with more to think about than she had expected. But as she turned her attention back to Joseph, the weight of their past, present, and future seemed to shift, even if only a little.

Next: Chapter Ten