#e-work arena

[fabriziosbardella]

Venerdì 14 giugno dalle ore 18 alla beach volley Arena ci sarà la Beer Fest UYBA, una grande festa aperta a tutti con la famiglia UYBA   #eworkarena#beachvolley #estate2024 #beach #summer #beerfest #beerfestival #bustoarsizioeventi #bustoarsizio #UYBA #farfalle #fabriziosbardella #eventi #inevidenza #primopiano

[beholdenning]

“Denning!! Heyyy!” Ewan finally found the person he was looking for, smiling and waving from afar before running up to the Morph. It took a little while to find them, especially when you cant look over a crowd, but thankfully after a little searching he finally spotted them.

“I wanted to say thanks for your help last battle! I could see the way some of those creeps were looking at me, I was sure it was gonna be “goodnight Ewan” if you didn’t catch their attention and took the hits for me!” While speaking, his eyes were twinkling with admiration. The way Denning drew enemy attention to themselves and shielded him and Céline, it was the coolest sight ever to the young mage who so admired those that could defend and protect.

“Do you like Ice cream? Let me treat you to some from my favorite parlor! It’s the best, I promise!” The idea struck him suddenly, but it sounded like a great offer. He wanted to repay Denning in some manner, and who doesn’t like ice cream?

“I’d also love to get to know you better! We’re friends, after all!”

As wont to when addressed, their head snaps around, gaze quickly finding the boy and tracking his movement through the crowd, navigating well even with his diminuitive size— When he is close enough, Denning slowly lifts a hand in response, a common greeting.

It is 'good' seeing him hale, perhaps. The desired outcome of their battles is the protection of their charges, and though it had not been as unwavering as it ought to have been, the nature of the elementals' meddling remains the same, and the students remain unharmed.

Again, that uncertain sense of failure. The lack of consequence. It does not feel right, but the boy's words wash over that line of thought before it can be pursued further. There is no attempt at factuality— At this point, Denning has learned at this point that thanks are some calibre of social custom, even if the duty rendered was just that, duty, and ought to be carried out, and leaves it to wash over them with scarce more than a slight nod.

Still, the next part gives it pause. A slow blink. Ice cream? A cold, dairy-based food, often eaten for 'dessert'. Oft sweet. Notable to the Knight for its prior feature in the exhumed body cremation 'scandal'. At any rate, as useless to consume for it as all the rest.

It is, in fact, Denning, who does not particularly 'care' for ice cream.

Though she does not immediately respond to the invitation, giving mostly a slow cock of the head, she sees as little reason to refuse as she does to accept. The notion of calling her 'friend' is yet another logical snare she cannot untangle, but it is not relevant for the moment. She cocks her head the other way, lolling a touch with the motion.

A beat. Even so, to be known is to be used adequately. This will likely be a constructive experience.

"Mm." A hum of assent.

[bananayuyu]

Making a Mess

Pairing: Mingi x f reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 1.3k

Summary: Being on stage makes Mingi really, really horny. Luckily you're backstage to help him out.

Warnings: MDNI, smut, public sex, unprotected sex, bodily fluids making a mess on the floor...

A/n: Heard an audio on here today and well... my brain started working overtime. I need him to destroy me. My bestie challenged me to write something short finally 😭 hope you enjoy! <3

I wrote a part 2/expansion of this story called Cleaning Up which you can read here!

<^><^><^><^><^><^>

Being on stage always had an affect on Mingi, one visceral and tangible, obvious even to fans with a keen eye. The lights, the production, the sea of screaming people chanting his name, it all riled him up more than anything. Staring out at the massive arena, the music deafening loud as he rapped through ragged breaths, his nerves were on fire. Exiting the stage he ripped off his jacket, lumbering quickly towards the changing rooms on his way to find you.

You, his companion on tours. His close... friend? Not really. No one asked questions, least of all you two. But you knew why you were here, why he needed you patiently waiting with the rest of the staff, ready to help him at a moment's notice.

"Y/n," Mingi huffs as he busts through the door, his lungs heaving from the heat he's feeling, his makeup making his eyes look dark and demanding. A small smile sneaks onto your lips as you rise, following him out into the hall, a sprinkling of random people wandering past you at varying speeds. You've both been in this arena a few times before, and you know exactly where he's taking you. He's got about seven minutes before he needs to be back onstage again, so it can't be too far. Not that either of you are thinking about that right now. You duck down another small hallway and then his hands are on you, pushing you against the wall by your hips, his open mouth colliding with yours as you both sigh in anticipation, tongues roaming each other's mouths. You can hear a pair of shoes squeaking down the perpendicular hallway, a small golf cart running by somewhere in the distance. You're not really covered here but it doesn't matter. It only adds to everything.

Mingi pulls back with a nip to your lower lip, burying his face in your neck as he snakes his hands underneath your shirt, squeezing over your entire body while biting down, marking you just like he did a few days prior, where a small yellow bruise is still healing. A small yelp escapes your lips at the pain, your entire body buzzing with pleasure as he so aggressively plays with you, making your knees weak. Not wanting you to fall he moves to grab your waist, lifting you up the wall as you wrap your legs around his hips to anchor yourself. At this angle you can feel how hard he is, just like everyone saw moments ago on the big screen.

"Was it a good set?" you ask breathlessly, your faces only inches apart.

"Fuck yeah," he responds before kissing you again, a hand coming to rest behind your head as he pushes into your mouth even further, reveling in the feeling of your warm tongue on his. "Fuck I needed this," he groans, his other hand gripping your hip to help support you, his hips grinding into yours as he tastes your sweet lipgloss, your perfect eyes shut in pleasure as he digs his hand into your soft flesh. Soon he's unbuttoning his pants, your hands coming to rest on his shoulders as he holds you up with just his hips. He's unzipping hastily, desperately grabbing at his cock to free it, squeezing his shaft as he lines himself up with you. Your exercise shorts are just loose enough, with no underwear underneath of course, for him to push them to the side and reveal your soaking cunt, your body getting worked up long before he came and got you. Shakily he lines himself up with your entrance, his blood pumping through him so fast as he slowly pushes in, the stretch immaculate.

"Fuck, Mingi," you whisper, shocked every time by how big he is, how good it feels. Slowly he starts rocking his hips into yours, your wet pussy making lewd noises echo down the hallway. Moving his hands back to your hips Mingi lifts you just a bit higher, giving him the perfect angle to start fucking you hard, the wet noises replaced by the slapping of skin, over and over and over.

"How are you always so wet?" he groans in your ear, his mouth nipping at your lobe and making you whimper. Pulling back he watches your face from just inches away, loving the way your brows are scrunched up and your mouth hangs open as you try not to moan too loud. Your body bounces with the force of his thrusts, your hands still anchoring on his shoulders as he pounds into you even harder, his grip on your hips so strong it will surely leave bruises. Your pussy clenches down on him as he hits your cervix repeatedly, ripping little orgasms out of you over and over, your legs shaky as you hold onto his hips for dear life.

"God, you drive me fucking- fuck- crazy," he whispers in your ear, his cock throbbing from the feeling of your wet walls squeezing down on him. "You cum so fast on my cock," he groans, his head spinning as his climax quickly approaches. You've already fallen over the edge multiple times, your body shaking hard now as you just try to hang on, unable to respond to him as you keep yourself from screaming into the open hall. He's absolutely ravishing you, his movements sloppy as he chases his pleasure, your wetness dripping down onto his pants, the floor. Suddenly his orgasm washes over him, his hips stuttering before coming flush with yours, as he shoots deep inside you, his cum filling you with warmth. It's a lot, too much for your pussy to contain, and small amounts start dribbling out of you already, even with his cock still buried inside you.

"Fuck, what would I do without you," he sighs into your hair, kissing your forehead before moving to your lips. He moves his hands around your back, pulling you up towards him in an embrace as you breathe hard. Your arms rag doll down to your sides as you sigh, your head resting heavy on Mingi's shoulder, and he chuckles. "You good?" he whispers, and you nod your head in response. You nuzzle your face into his neck more, making him pause for just a moment, letting a bit of time pass with you both still entangled.

And then it's finally time for him to slowly pull you off of him, both of you watching as the rest of his cum drips out, down your legs and onto the floor, leaving a small puddle. There's a smirk on his face but your cheeks are bright red with embarrassment, even if this wasn't the first time that's happened. For a brief moment his chest tightens, knowing that you find it a bit mortifying letting him have you so publicly. It's all so hot and so shameful all at once, making you quiet and shy, and with your eyes on the ground your hand on his arm is the only sign that you're still wanting him next to you.

"Come on," he says, helping you start to move the rest of the way down this small hall that had a bathroom at the end of it. This really was the perfect arena for this, given the out-of-the-way private bathroom. You wish all of the arenas they toured had this set up. Your legs wobble as you make your way down, Mingi's hold the only thing from preventing you from falling. And then you're finally there by the door, about to swing it shut when he gently grabs your shoulder turning you around. His eyes are swimming with satisfaction as your face meets his, and he leans down to pull you into a kiss again, this time sweet and gentle.

"Mingi, get your ass back here!" you hear a voice scream from down the hall, the sound sharp from ricocheting off the brick walls. And just like that he's gone down the hallway, running on somewhat shaky legs of his own. But not before planting one final kiss on your nose, making your stomach light with butterflies, your core clenching from the sweetness.

[relto]

the other day i tried a burn-melt team on some boss enemies, its scary effective BUT the bosses i was actually considering to use it on (ruin snake and wenut) apparently remove elemental auras when they go underground which makes the team useless

[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!”

[duachai]

G8MER BOI - JEON WONWOO

Super Smash Bros You So Ass Though Proly Pick Kirby So You Don't Get Smashed On

PAIRING : JEON WONWOO X MALE READER

SYNOPSIS : M/n, a competitive gamer, is distracted by fellow gamer Wonwoo's charisma and flirtatious advances during a match. After the game, Wonwoo's commanding demeanor leaves M/n flustered and vulnerable. They share an intense, intimate encounter backstage, leading M/n to experience a whirlwind of emotions. Overwhelmed by Wonwoo's touch and words, M/n feels a deep connection forming, hinting at a promising new chapter in his life.

CONTENT WARNING : This writing contains explicit sexual content and mature themes.

AUTHOR'S NOTE : I know nothing about E-sports, but I tried my best 😭

LINKS : Wattpad | Kofi

M/n had never been so nervous going ANYWHERE before today. This was the day he could make history and he carried an insane amount of weight on his shoulders as he walked through those arena doors. Even in a room full of people he still found himself zoned out and very unfocused while doing a fan sign.

He felt someone staring at him, his eyes slowly looking up from the table. A pair of eyes were staring at him, unbreaking eye contact. It sent chills down his spine. He was always a bit reserved during these events and always kept his head down so as to not engage with many people. He didn't like a lot of interaction anyway so this set-up worked for him fairly well.

Except with this particular person.

He knew this guy. This guy... he was a legend. But not one of those old crinkly ones that don't really do their fortay anymore.

He was Jeon Wonwoo.

He slowly lifted his sharpie off the desk, eyes still locked with the other male. He was just so intense. It's like he's trying to burn a hole into my brain. He thought. He tried to ignore the way his stomach churned beneath his button-up and continued signing the girl’s team T-shirt in front of him. She could sense M/n's attention was not on her at all.

M/n quickly tore his gaze from the other person and plastered on a smile for the girl in front of him. Come ON, stop staring! Just mind your own damn business! He cursed in his head, trying to focus back on the girl.

The girl in front of him tried to talk to him to which he desperately tried to answer, eyes darting to the side every so often only to see the man still staring at him. "Are you okay?", the girl asked, waving her hand in front of his face "You seem distracted."

"O-Oh, yeah. I'm sorry... um thank you for supporting us! I hope to see you in the arena later today.”

She nodded and moved away, making room for the next person. M/n took a small breather, closing his eyes for a moment. Ok M/n, pull yourself together. Just focus, do your job and then you can g- He glances up only to see Wonwoo sitting down in the seat in front of him. Ah, you've got to be kidding me...

The male in front of him sat back casually, resting his t-shirt right on the desk in front of him. M/n felt his heart speed up a bit. He glanced down quickly then back up to see Wonwoo grinning at him like he knew exactly what he was thinking.

It almost looked like he was teasing M/n and it ticked him off a bit. He was here to do his job and this guy was distracting him. "I guess it's my turn," Wonwoo spoke, his voice so sweet it almost made M/n shiver.

"U-Um, you don't need to get in line... you're like VIP."

The male laughed heartily. "VIP huh? I like the sound of that"

Jesus, he's even got a beautiful laugh M/n thought, trying to shake the idea away.

Wonwoo said generously, "But I'm no different than the other teams here. I just am a fan... I want a signed shirt from my favorite junior team.”

M/n let out a short laugh, trying to be casual about the whole thing. "Yeah right, like you can call yourself any team's fan when you're the main part of your team's success," he says. It came out a bit harsher than he intended but the confidence the man had was starting to irk him. "You're a legend, Jeon Wonwoo."

Wonwoo smirked and leaned in a little closer. "Say my name again" he says. M/n stared at him, dumbfounded. Say it again? Why the hell does he want me to say his name? What is his angle..

He swallowed down the lump in his throat and took a breath. "Wonwoo.." he said slowly.

The tension was cut by an intercom coming on. "Please everyone please gather in the area for the SVT and Fifty-Forty’s team matches.” M/n's head snapped up to the speaker above his head when the announcement went off. An overwhelming sense of relief washed over him. Finally, now i'm out of this awkward position.

He looked back to Wonwoo only to find him still staring, that smug smile still plastered on his lips. He tried to glare at the man which only made him smile more. He felt his face get hot again. Damnit, why am I letting him get to me?

Wonwoo leaned even further forward and M/n could feel his breath on his cheek. He was so close M/n could count the individual eyelashes framing the other man's eyes. Damnit, Why is his face so close? What is he doing… Wonwoo spoke up, his voice low and sultry in his ear "Are you gonna sign me that shirt now?"

With a trembling hand M/n picked up his marker and signed the shirt. He tried to keep the letters straight but his hand was shaking like crazy and he felt like sweating buckets. How was this man making him so nervous? Why could he feel his heart pounding in his chest like this? It was insane...

He finished the signature and was about to set the shirt down when Wonwoo took hold of his wrist, stopping him from moving. M/n's heart nearly stopped. Wonwoo's hand was on his wrist, not to mention it was so large as well. His fingers were wrapping all the way around him, his long slender fingers completely covering his wrist.

He swallowed a lump that formed in his throat and made the mistake of looking up into Wonwoo's eyes. His eyes met the other man's intense stare and he couldn't look away. He felt like he might pass out if he did.

His mind was going a mile a minute, there was so much going on. Their faces were mere centimeters from each other and M/n felt like he would have a heart attack right there, and on top of all of that, he had never felt more... excited? for something in his entire life.

M/n swore he felt the thump of his heart skip a beat. "You're a lot cuter than I thought you'd be.." he said quietly. M/n's eyes widened and before he could reply the intercom came back on, cutting off whatever he was about to say.

"All teams to the main stage please, the match is beginning in a few minutes.”

Wonwoo's hand finally left his wrist and he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He felt lightheaded like he might pass out at that very moment.

The man leaned back in his seat, picking up his signed shirt and smiling. "See you after the match," he said before he stood and headed for the stage. M/n could only watch as the man left, a thousand thoughts running through his mind. What was just happening? He thought I was cute? Why was he being so upfront? Why did he make me so nervous?

He needed to get himself together and quickly. There was a match about to happen and he needed to be focused. He looked over to the crowd and saw all the fans waiting. As much as he wanted to go back and hide in his room, he couldn't. Just do your best, and after you can freak out.

He took a deep breath and got up to join the rest of his teammates on the stage. The game began and M/n tried to focus on playing, which he usually had no problems doing. Except this time, he couldn't seem to find and kind of concentration.

Every time he would start to get into the game, his mind flashed back to Wonwoo's eyes. His words, his grip on his wrist, the way he made his heart stop...

He was so distracted, he was even making mistakes in-game, which was completely unlike him. Usually he was so precise and careful with his playing but today it was like he was just going through the motions. He was doing everything on auto-pilot.

Wonwoo was amazing. His hair, his perfect form, his talent, his lips, all of this just drove M/n absolutely insane. The game wasn't even on his mind. All he could think about was how he just had to have Jeon Wonwoo.

The game was over as quickly as it had begun. Wonwoo's team had crushed his, leaving him and his teammates with no chance to even compete. As the two teams made their way off the stage and into the hall, M/n felt a hand on his shoulder.

He felt that intense sense of nervousness fill him again as he slowly turned to come face to face with Wonwoo. M/n's heart nearly stopped when they stood face to face again. Every single thought he had from earlier came rushing back to him all at once, leaving him feeling vulnerable.

Wonwoo smirked down at him which made him feel even more flustered. Why did he keep doing that?!

"You guys put up a good fight, I'll give you that," he said, his hand still on M/n's shoulder.

M/n couldn't find a single word to say, he just stood there like a complete idiot as his brain malfunctioned. He didn't know what to say or do, he just stared at the man with his mouth slightly open.

Wonwoo chuckled lowly, which caused the hairs on the back of M/n's neck to stand up. Damnit, why is his laugh so attractive? Is he trying to drive me insane?

"Cat got your tongue?" he asked, lifting a hand and running his thumb over M/n's bottom lip. M/n suddenly forgot how to breath. His hands started to shake and he swallowed down a lump in his throat. What does he think he's doing? Just.. touching my face like that. It's making me so.. His thoughts were cut off when Wonwoo began to speak again.

"You're cute when you're nervous, you know that? You get a little red too," Wonwoo said cooing as he swiped a slither of hair that fell on M/n’s forehead.

Jesus Christ, he's so handsome..

M/n tried and failed to keep control of his composure. Why does this man make me so nervous? I can't even form complete thoughts with him staring right at me.

He finally gathered the strength to speak, his voice quiet and shaky. "I'm... not nervous.."

Wonwoo laughed again with his perfect teeth showing. "You're not? You're shaking like a leaf right now." he said with a smirk. His hand came up again, this time cupping M/n's cheek in his warm palm. M/n felt his legs begin to get weak.

"You're a terrible liar, you know that?" he chuckles again before leaning down so his mouth was right next to M/n's ear.

M/n could feel his heart pounding against his chest as the other man's breath tickled his ear. "I can probably make you even more nervous,” he said, his low voice dripping with confidence.

M/n's mind seemed to be a complete jumble at this point. His thoughts were a complete mess and he felt like he might explode. The proximity of the other male's body was almost overwhelming, especially since he was so much taller than M/n himself.

He swore it felt like he was in a trance of some kind when Wonwoo spoke again, his breath warm on his ear. Wonwoo's warm hand shifted from his cheek to the nape of his neck, resting there and making shivers run up M/n's spine.

"You know.." he began, his tone was like silk. ".. I thought you were cute from just watching you play, but now I think you're even more adorable up close.”

M/n chuckled nervously, "U-Um... I should really catch up with my team. They're probably heading to the hotel... y'know. Tired and stuff.

Wonwoo's hand on his neck seemed to tighten a bit, keeping M/n from moving away. "Your team is going to be fine without you for a few minutes," he said, his tone a bit more demanding now.

M/n's breath hitched in his throat as the other man's grip pulled him a little closer. "O-Oh... kay, okay..."

M/n's head was spinning, the man was way too attractive for his own good.

Suddenly, Wonwoo's hand slid from his neck to his jaw, his long slender fingers wrapping around his chin and turning his head to the side. M/n didn't resist, he let him move him, his mind foggy from the closeness.

"You have really pretty eyes" he said lowly in his ear, his thumb brushing across M/n's bottom lip again.

M/n felt his heart flip and his breath shuddered again. He was trying so hard to keep what little composure he had left, but the other man was making it damn near impossible. His touch was driving him insane and he found himself unable to speak, his mind completely blank.

"They're brown... not very unique. Um, how about we move to another area... it's kinda hot h-here. Yeah?" M/n says in a slight pant. Wonwoo chuckled softly and leaned back slightly so he was hovering over M/n's face.

"Oh my god, you are so adorable when you're nervous," he said, his eyes raking up and down M/n's body as he spoke. M/n's stomach flipped at the look in the other man's eyes, Jesus, that stare is going to be the death of me he thought. "I have an idea," Wonwoo said as he grabbed M/n's wrist, his large hand wrapping all the way around him again.

A shiver ran down M/n's spine at the feeling.

With one quick move, he found himself being led down one of the backstage hallways into a secluded backroom. As soon as the door closed behind them, Wonwoo turned and pushed M/n up against the door, trapping him between his body and the hard surface.

M/n felt like he was going to have a heart attack. His heartbeat was so loud he swore Wonwoo could probably hear it. Wonwoo placed a hand on the wall on either side of M/n's head, effectively trapping him against the door.

He was so close M/n could feel the other man's breath on his face, it was warm and smelled faintly of cinnamon. Wonwoo was just staring again. Those brown eyes staring directly into his own, leaving him frozen in his spot.

His mind was swirling, his body was hot, why was this man having this effect on him? The other man smirked down at him, a wicked smile that made M/n's body shiver again. "You're so innocent, you know that?" he says, his eyes raking up and down M/n's body again.

This new side of Wonwoo was turning M/n on in ways he never thought possible. The intense gaze, the smirk, and the commanding tone, it was making his legs feel like jelly.

"M-Maybe I should get back to the group... I-" Wonwoo's hand on the wall moved to M/n's hip, resting there and grabbing it firmly through the material of his shirt. M/n felt a jolt of pleasure run through him. Jesus... that hand, it's so big

"I don’t want you to leave, sweetheart," he stated, his tone commanding. M/n was speechless. The nickname made his heart skip a beat and the hand on his hip made his legs even weaker. He was having a very hard time breathing at this point.

"O-Okay."

Wonwoo chuckled, the sound sending another shiver through M/n. "You're so easy to tease," he says as he leans closer to M/n.

His hand was still tight on his hip, his grip almost possessively tight. "Tease?" M/n asked almost in a whine. Another sultry chuckle escaped Wonwoo's lips as he leaned in even closer, his mouth now right next to M/n's ear.

"You heard me," he said, his warm breath sending more chills down M/n's spine. M/n's mind was a mess and his body a wreck, all from a simple hand on his hip. M/n began to lose his balance. Trying not to fall, his arms wrapped around Wonwoo's waist instinctively.

Wonwoo chuckled again, the sound so deep and smooth, it left M/n's mind feeling blank once more.

"You're a little clumsy, hm?" he asked, his tone almost mocking now.

M/n was trying desperately to keep his mind from completely shorting out, but the man's proximity and his voice was messing with his head.

"Oh.. sorry. Um, Wonwoo? I don't understand, why... why me? I-I'm not complaining I'm just... confused.”

This time a frown appeared on Wonwoo's face instead of his usual cocky smirk. He moved back from M/n's ear, looking down at him with an almost serious expression.

"Why you? I'll tell you why" he said, his gaze never leaving M/n's face. M/n's heart rate quickly began to pick up at the intensity in which the man was staring at him.

"You're cute, that's obvious.." he began, his eyes roaming over M/n's flushed face. "But on top of that... you're talented.. and I could tell when I was watching you earlier... that you're so damn hot when you're focused.”

M/n couldn't understand why this man was having this effect on him, why his words were making him feel weak and his body hot. And Wonwoo noticed. He could feel the rise in M/n's pants.

A smug smirk reappeared on the man's face, as he took notice of M/n’s predicament.

"Looks like I'm having an effect on you, hm?" he purred in M/n's ear again.

M/n 's face flustered with embarrassment, "I'm sorry! I-I don't know what's happening, I'm sorry.”

Wonwoo laughed lowly, his laugh doing absolutely nothing for M/n's already fried brain. "You don't have to apologize, I enjoy it," he said as he pulled M/n's hips forward, closing the distance between their bodies. M/n's eyes darted down to Wonwoo's lips. Wonwoo smirked again, the expression causing M/n's stomach to flip.

"You keep looking at my lips sweetheart, what are you thinking about?" he asked, his voice still low and smooth. "You're speechless a lot, you know that..?" he asks, his grip on M/n's hips tightening. "You're not saying anything because you're too busy thinking about my lips, I can tell," he said, a low chuckle escaping again. "You don't have to speak yourself then. I'll make you.”

And with that, he pressed his mouth to M/n's. M/n's mind suddenly went into overdrive, the soft pressure of Wonwoo's lips against his own sending sparks of pleasure shooting through him.

Wonwoo's mouth felt so warm and soft against his own. He couldn't get his mind to form a single thought, the only thing he could process at this point was the feeling of Wonwoo's lips moving against his. Wonwoo deepened the kiss, pulling M/n even closer by his hips.

The room was suddenly getting a lot hotter, the only thing that M/n could focus on was the man in front of him. The kiss was intense, and M/n was losing himself further and further with each passing moment.

His fingers found the way to the back of Wonwoo's shirt and clutched at the material tightly. Wonwoo let out a light moan as M/n gripped the fabric of his shirt, the sound sending yet another shiver of pleasure through him.

He continued to kiss him, his tongue slipping between M/n's lips and tasting every crevice of his mouth. Wonwoo suddenly bit down on M/n's bottom lip, causing him to gasp out a moan at the mixture of pain and pleasure.

"Jesus, the noises you're making are going to put me over the edge, you know that?" he says in a low, sultry tone. M/n's brain could barely process the words coming out of the man's mouth. "You're... you're driving me crazy," he managed to get out in a pant.

Wonwoo's hand inched up the underside of M/n's shirt, running his fingers along the bare skin of his stomach. M/n let out an involuntary noise at the feel of the man's fingers on his skin, his stomach felt like it was on fire wherever Wonwoo touched him.

Wonwoo's hand inched up the underside of M/n's shirt, running his fingers along the bare skin of his stomach. M/n let out an involuntary noise at the feel of the man's fingers on his skin, his stomach felt like it was on fire wherever Wonwoo touched him.

Wonwoo began to trail his mouth down M/n's neck, peppering kisses lightly over his skin. M/n's head fell back against the door of the small room, a soft moan escaping his lips.

The feel of Wonwoo's lips on his neck sent a fresh wave of hot pleasure through M/n's body.

"God... you're so whiney, I love it," he says softly between kisses. Wonwoo continued to mouth at M/n's neck as his hands began to wander further up his shirt. M/n could feel his body burning up, every touch from the other man was making his brain malfunction. "You feel so good" Wonwoo whispered against his neck.

M/n took one of Wonwoo's hands down to his crotch, "Wonwoo please... help me.” M/n let out another moan, the man's touch was doing wonders on his body. "Just... touch me, please," he begs, his hands coming to rest on Wonwoo's hips.

Wonwoo quickly began to undo the buckle of M/n's pants, his fingers working quickly to get the material off of him. M/n let out a low moan, the anticipation driving him crazy.

"You're so cute... I need to see more of you," Wonwoo says lowly. Wonwoo's hands were roaming over his thighs. "God, you're perfect" he says as he squeezes the flesh of one of his legs, his eyes roaming over his exposed body.

"So damn pretty" he mutters under his breath as he begins to kiss down the skin of the thigh in his hand. Wonwoo continued to mouth at the skin of his thigh, he was making his way closer to the one place that M/n wanted him to be.

Each little bite and kiss was sending more jolts of pleasure through him, his body felt like it was on fire. "Please, please.. Woo...”

"Please what, gorgeous? You have to tell me what you want," Wonwoo says, his mouth mere inches from the hardness of M/n's lower body.

M/n could barely form a coherent sentence, his brain was mush at this point. "Your mouth.. I need your mouth," he says in a pant, his hands tightening around the material of Wonwoo's shirt.

Wonwoo hummed against his thigh in response to his words. "Beg me, baby. Tell me how much you need me," he said lowly, his breath ghosting over the flesh of M/n's inner leg.

"Please, please Woo I need you. I need your mouth, I need your hands, I need you. Please." M/n was practically pleading now, the anticipation was killing him.

Wonwoo hummed again, satisfaction in his voice. "Such a polite little thing... can't say no to that now can I?" he said as he leaned forward in between M/n's thighs.

He wanted to see how much more he could break him down.

"You're being such a good boy for me, I'm going to make you feel so good, you hear me? You're going to feel so good, all because of me"

"Yes... please. Only you make me feel this way," M/n manages to pant out, he wanted the man's mouth so bad his body was aching for it.

"Mmhm, no one else but me can make you feel this good, and no one else ever will," Wonwoo says lowly as he continues to mouth across the inside of his thighs. M/n was already a mess, his breathing was uneven and his skin was hot.

"I'm going to have you begging for more, I'm going to have you screaming my name," he says in a murmur against the flesh of M/n's skin.

Wonwoo continued his ministrations to the flesh of his thighs, marking the soft skin with his mouth and teeth. He was purposely avoiding the one place M/n wanted him most, he wanted to hear him beg for it.

"You're already a mess and I've hardly touched you. You really are desperate, aren't you baby?" he said in a low tone. "My Good boy," Wonwoo says with a smirk.

Without any warning, he suddenly sank down to his knees, his face now level with M/n's hardness. M/n let out a low moan, finally giving in to the overwhelming sensations coursing through him.

Wonwoo's hands slid up M/n's thighs, his touch firm yet gentle, sending shivers up his spine. He looked up at M/n with a mischievous glint in his eyes, and without breaking eye contact, he pressed a kiss against the fabric covering M/n's arousal.

M/n's breath hitched, his hands instinctively reaching to tangle in Wonwoo's hair. The other man smirked, his fingers deftly undoing the button and zipper of M/n's pants. With deliberate slowness, he pulled down the material, freeing M/n's hardness from its confines.

Wonwoo's warm breath ghosted over M/n's exposed skin, causing him to shudder with anticipation. He placed a series of teasing kisses along M/n's length, each one sending jolts of pleasure through his body.

"Wonwoo... please," M/n murmured, his voice barely a whisper, filled with need.

Wonwoo chuckled softly, the vibrations of his laughter adding to M/n's pleasure. "Impatient, aren't we?" he teased, his lips brushing against M/n's tip.

Unable to take any more of the teasing, M/n's hips involuntarily bucked forward, seeking more of Wonwoo's touch. Wonwoo finally took pity on him, wrapping his lips around M/n's hardness and taking him into his warm, wet mouth.

M/n gasped, his head falling back against the door as waves of pleasure crashed over him. Wonwoo's mouth worked expertly, his tongue swirling around M/n's tip before taking him deeper.

The sensations were almost too much to bear. M/n's fingers tightened in Wonwoo's hair, his hips moving in time with the other man's rhythm. Wonwoo's hands gripped M/n's thighs, holding him steady as he continued to pleasure him.

M/n felt the tension building in his core, his breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. "Wonwoo... I'm close," he managed to say, his voice strained with need.

In response, Wonwoo increased his pace, his mouth moving faster, taking M/n as deep as he could. The sight of Wonwoo on his knees, his lips wrapped around him, was enough to push M/n over the edge.

With a final, shuddering gasp, M/n came, his release spilling into Wonwoo's mouth. The other man swallowed greedily, his eyes never leaving M/n's face as he rode out his climax.

As the waves of pleasure subsided, M/n slumped against the door, his legs feeling like jelly. Wonwoo stood up, a satisfied smile on his lips as he wiped a stray drop from the corner of his mouth.

"You're even more adorable when you're completely undone," he said, his voice low and teasing.

M/n could only nod weakly, his mind still reeling from the intensity of the experience. Wonwoo leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to M/n's lips.

"Let's get you cleaned up," he murmured, his tone now gentle and caring. "We can't have you going back out there looking like this."

With Wonwoo's help, M/n managed to pull himself together, his body still tingling from the aftershocks of pleasure. As they made their way back to the main area, M/n couldn't help but feel a newfound sense of connection with Wonwoo.

The game may have been over, but for M/n, a new and exhilarating chapter had just begun.

[just-a-ghost00]

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

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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.

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I finally wrote something after surviving midterm week at college!! I'm on break now so hopefully more will be coming :)) enjoy!

[deansdelicate]

I CAN SEE YOU

CHAPTER II: WATCHING YOU FOR AGES

seth rollins x fem!writer+producer reader

word count: [8.5K]

warnings: no use of y/n, mild cursing, mentions of having a baby out of wedlock (steph and paul), slight allusions to anxiety/loneliness, flirting (you don't even have to squint), mostly a light-hearted, domestic chapter <3

🎧 the soundtrack

summary: You're still getting accustomed to the fast life that comes with working for WWE, but it's all starting to settle down and you're beginning to feel like you belong with each day that passes—and it sure does help when a special someone is always going out of their way to make sure you know it too.

Seth and the rest of the superstars sat patiently on the shuttle bus, awaiting one last person before they could head to the arena for the night’s taping of SmackDown. It wasn’t often that they got to travel as one big group, but it was always something he took up when possible.

Usually the procedure was driving themselves to and from cities, hotels, and arenas, but now that Paul was in charge, he did his best to work in bus accommodations in order to give talent the slot to relax before shows. But even then, some opted to drive themselves, like Roman who was missing from his usual seat beside Seth.

“Who are we even waiting for?” Xavier complained, standing up to scan the area, trying to detect who exactly was holding them up.

“I’m surprised it isn’t you,” Seth cackled over at Finn who was notoriously known for being chronically late to every bus ride.

The Irish lad rolled his eyes. “Whoever has me beat is far more a mess.”

“Mr. Driver, can we get this show on the road?” piped Kofi with a clap as all the superstars agreed, preferring to get to the arena before doors so they could all get situated.

The driver looked up in the rear-view mirror, laughing shortly with the shake of his head. The superstars grumbled, patience dwindling by the second, trying to pinpoint who was the culprit of them running behind and making a pact to bar them from any future bus rides.

It wasn’t unusual for a crowd to gather outside the hotel—many of them children accompanied with their parents to get autographs and photos if they weren’t able to snag tickets to the show. But this time around, the crowd felt larger, more amateur photographers scattered throughout, which was odd considering it wasn’t a pay-per-view event.

“Oh, shit…” Big E singsonged, leaning out of his seat towards the window to see what all the ruckus was about as the fans’ cheers got louder.

Security surrounded you closely, keeping their arms outwards to stop people from getting too close to you. You happily waved at everyone, pausing for the kids who asked for autographs and selfies, making small talk with them before you waved goodbye and continued following the security.

“This way, Ms. Levesque.” One of the guards escorted you towards the doors of the bus, holding it open and ensuring you’d get in safely.

“Thank you,” you murmured with a tight smile, giving each of them a handshake for going out of their way for you.

“Hi! I’m so sorry for the holdup,” you apologized sincerely, turning to meet the driver, “They just wanted to make sure we were clear to go ahead.” You explained, extending your hand.

The man reassured you with a comforting shake of his head and meeting your hand gently. Your father was extremely protective of you, therefore many, if not all drivers and security crew of the company were well aware of the procedure of making sure you got where you needed to be safely no matter how long it took.

“You are precious cargo, Ms. Levesque. Have a seat and I’ll get us to the arena promptly.” He directed, gesturing you to get comfortable wherever you pleased.

Passing through the aisle, you smiled and said your ‘hello’s’ to everyone, most were surprised that you were joining them, considering that you were almost always a driven separately.

But what they didn’t know was that you had to practically beg your father to switch transportation for the day, simply wanting to be around everyone instead of being chauffeured to every event, which was starting to become a little lonely.

Seth sat in the last row of the bus, an empty seat beside him catching your eye. You paused in the aisle, pointing to the space with a hopeful smile.

“Is it okay if I sit here?” you asked timidly, crossing your fingers he didn’t mind you invading his space.

He immediately bopped his head, patting the seat.

“Course, here, let me help you.” He offered, holding his arms out towards you to take your things so that you could get settled with the fuss.

“Thanks.” You breathed a sigh of relief, passing him your purse and laptop.

You slid into the seat and buckled in before retrieving your stuff, your eyes meeting Seth’s with a grateful expression when his fingers brushed against yours for a split second.

“I hope you guys weren’t waiting too long,” you apologized, placing your purse on the ground between your feet.

He shook his head, leaning back into his seat. “Nah, we weren’t waiting long. Plus, it’s always a pleasure to be waiting for the princess herself.”

You giggled, brushing your hair over your shoulders then laying your head against the rest. “I’ll be sure to remember that.”

The bus began moving en route to the arena that was a good twenty-five minutes away, giving you enough time to look over the script that you had been working on since what felt like forever ago. It was a part of an assignment your dad had you complete ting—writing four original scripts for the main roster, three of which focused on superstars who needed a bit more of character development.

The three completed scripts were met with praise by your dad alongside a number of producers and fellow writers who thought you were able to curate a story worthy enough to be showcased on TV. The remaining storyline, however, was a challenge—a romantic one.

You had been circling back to early storylines that involved romance, and while they were entertaining and good TV, they all felt one dimensional.

Therefore, you challenged yourself to come up with a script that would allow both leads to shine without acting as if their relationship was the only thing that existed. Sure, it was a longshot your dad would approve of it since TV hadn’t seen a romance trope in a while, but you wanted to take the risk and give it a shot.

“Important business?” Seth peered past your shoulder, raising his brow at your screen that had an overwhelming volume of text splayed across it.

You gawked up at him, nodding with a light laugh. “Just my final assignment.”

He looked at you, confused, feigning concern. “Final assignment? Did I miss the memo or something?”

You swung your head as you giggled, stopping your typing in order to show him exactly what you were up to.

“It’s the last storyline I’m writing for my dad to approve. I’ve been working on it for a while and now I’m just trying to polish it up for him.” You explained, tilting the screen towards him as you scrolled through the document.

“Whose it for?” he wondered, genuine curiosity in his eyes as he read a short fragment.

You rolled your shoulders with a shrug.

“To be honest, I don’t even have any particular superstars in mind. It’s very vague, but the details and sequencing are all there.”

“Well, if you’re writing it, I’m positive it’ll be worthy of Paul’s green-light.” He said confidently, his tone sincere, hoping it would make you feel slightly better to know he was rooting for you.

“I hope so,” your voice soft, exchanging tight smiles before you turned your attention back to work, trying to ignore the feeling of Seth’s eyes peering at you every so often while you typed away.

The bus ride was the perfect change of scenery even if it was just for a little while. It had been a bit lonesome traveling all by yourself and with the presence of everyone else you started to feel like you could get into the groove of things. Even if you weren’t involved in the conversation, the chatter of everyone cracking jokes made you grin through the work.

As the bus parked out back, the driver promptly exited to get the undercarriage opened so that talent could retrieve their luggages. Everyone stayed in their seats, just getting up to stretch their legs.

A security personnel poked their head into the bus, scanning the area until they saw you.

“Ms. Levesque, we’re going to escort you into the building.”

You acknowledged them with a nod, swiftly closing your laptop and gathering your things.

“How come we don’t get an escort too?” Kofi frowned, eliciting amusement from the entire bus, including yourself.

“Because I’m not a professional wrestler who could easily defend herself against crazed fans.” You half-joked with a pout.

“Noted.” Kofi replied with a smirk, flexing his arms and taking what you said as a compliment.

You shook your head with a laugh, turning back to Seth, who had been watching closely visibly seeing that now you were breaking out of your shell and learning everyone’s personalities.

“I’ll see you inside?” You proposed, getting up from your seat.

He nodded, knocking his knuckles against the window behind him. “See you in there.”

You twiddled your fingers goodbye before you walked through the aisle towards the front of the bus where security was already waiting.

“Bye everyone! I’ll see you inside,” you called out to everyone, waving as you exited and followed security through the surveillance screening to get into the arena.

After retrieving his bags, Seth headed straight to the locker room, dropping off his bags and then making his way toward catering for some food. He caught a glimpse of you on the way there, already sitting in hair and makeup, doing work on your laptop while you chit-chatted with the ladies.

He figured he’d leave you to it, hoping he’d run into you later in the night to talk more. He knew how important it was to make others feel welcomed, but it felt especially important to him that he could be someone you knew you could lean on, whether it was casual conversations or just talking about work.

“Where you off to? We’re all scheduled for a meeting with Paul.” Charlotte stopped him in the halls, going in the opposite direction of where all the talent was heading.

He scratched the back of his neck, pointing at her phone in her hand, “Was it an email? I didn’t see it on the itinerary.”

The blonde nodded, scrolling through her inbox. “Should’ve got sent to you this morning, but it doesn’t matter. It said all talent anyway.”

Seth nodded, walking alongside her, noting just how many people were headed in the same direction as Paul’s office. Usually they were all scheduled for meeting by group, but it seemed like it was an important one if Paul was calling for everyone on the same day at the same time.

As they squeezed into the office, some superstars found empty chairs while the rest stood against the walls, making space for those still arriving. The room buzzed with loud chatter, everyone speculating about the meeting’s purpose, hoping it wasn’t anything bad, like another round of roster splits.

Paul who sat at the head of the table, finally cleared his throat, silencing the room with an assertive presence that meant business.

“Okay everyone, let’s make this quick so you all can get out of here.” He rubbed his hands together, passing around papers that had the upcoming schedule for the next month.

“We’ve got some shows scattered across the east coast and mid-west. We’re prepping for SummerSlam, so things are going to start moving quicker and as we wrap up some storylines, we’re also going to be starting new ones.”

Many of the superstars were already well aware if they would be on the pay-per-view card or not, except Seth, who was still awaiting his opponent after he and Dean lost the tag team championships to Sheamus and Cesaro. They were originally going to have a rematch, but Dean ended up getting written into a different storyline with The Miz for the intercontinental championship.

“As you know my daughter joined us just a few days ago, but she has been watching and closely working alongside creative and producers in order to write a few scripts. Some of which will be getting played out in the coming weeks.”

Seth heard through the grapevine that some superstars already had meetings with you the following day after your debut to pitch the new storylines. Braun Strowman was one of the superstars to have a script written specifically for himself, and it was safe to say that everyone else was excited to see if they’d receive a script with your name on it too.

Your father was also greatly elated that you were taking the reins on helping him develop some talent—the pride evident in his voice and face as he spoke about you though you weren’t around to hear.

“And speaking about my daughter, I feel like this goes without saying, but just to make it abundantly clear, I think you should hear it from me.”

The tone in Paul’s voice suddenly shifted to something more serious, causing the superstars to deliberately fixate their sights on him.

“She’s new to this scene and to be quite frank she didn’t even want to step foot anywhere near the business, but she gave it a shot and while she’s still getting adjusted to the way things work around here, I have a good feeling she’s going to be the person taking over when I decide its time for me to step away…”

Everyone nodded along understanding that Paul’s time in charge might not be for long seeing as though he was getting older and he didn’t want to overstay his position of the head of creative knowing that it was best for a new perspective to be let in before things went stale.

Paul took a deep breath, the shift in his demeanor palpable as he transitioned from boss to protective father. His eyes scanned the room, settling on each superstar with a look that spoke volumes and caused most of them to squirm including Seth.

“Which is why I need to make myself crystal clear,” he began, his voice firm and unwavering. “My daughter is absolutely off-limits.”

He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in despite him feeling like it should have been an automatic rule everyone should’ve been expected to follow without him saying it explicitly.

Seth found it a little hypocritical considering the nature of Paul and Stephanie’s relationship. Everyone knew they had gotten together despite Vince’s warning and everyone else tell them it was bad for business, yet here they were years later not only married but with four daughters to show for it.

But Seth also knew that mixing pleasure with business wasn’t always successful as theirs was—most times it was like playing a dangerous game, and he respected that aspect of it—plus, who would be crazy enough to go after the boss’s daughter, anyway?

“She’s a sweet girl,” he continued, his voice softening slightly trying not to get emotional when it came to you.

“And I’m not just saying that because she’s my kid. If anyone were to hurt her, especially when I’m the person signing their checks, I would hate to be the one to have to fire them too. Am I clear?”

Paul was anything other than threatening especially outside of the character he played up for fans, but it felt like the first time he showed the true colors that could come out if anyone dared to get on his bad side. There was a collective ‘yes’ that filled the room, nearly suffocating everyone with how thick the tension in the air was.

From the back of the room, Randy’s voice cut through the silence with a choked up laugh.

“I guess my dreams of calling you dad are finally crushed.”

Laughter calmed the room and everyone in it—of course Randy was the only one who could make a joke like that and live to see another day.

Paul chortled, pointing a finger in his direction. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered, shaking his head and settling down.

Just then, the door swung open, causing everyone to look in its direction.

You stumbled in, changed out of your casual clothing into a little black dress with your hair pinned up in curlers. Your eyes widened, forehead creasing with worry as you quickly shut the door and darted your eyes towards your dad, sputtering out an apology.

“I’m sorry, I’m late! I thought the meeting started at—”

He shook his head, lifting a hand and cutting you off. “You’re right on time, sweetheart. I just got them briefed on next month’s schedule.”

He picked up one of the printed papers, waving you over to sit in the empty seat next to him.

A sigh of relief escaped your lips, smiling and waving to all the superstars as you made your way to the front of the room.

“Is there anything you guys talked about?” You speculated, brushing your hands against the fabric of your dress before you sat.

Everyone remained dead silent, shaking their heads realizing Paul had strategically given you a different time just so he could give all of them the word of warning without you present.

For a moment you caught eyes with Seth who stood near the back of the room, arms crossed over his chest and he quickly moved his eyes elsewhere, shaking his head like everyone else.

Your dad clicked his tongue, getting your attention. “No, just that and briefly about the storylines you had been working on.” He replied smoothly, covering the previous discussion without you knowing.

“Maybe you should formally introduce yourself, since they don’t know very much about you.”

He sat back in his chair, nodding for you to go ahead. For some reason, it was more nerve-racking to talk to all of them at once instead of the usual one-on-one conversations you had been having with them as the week went on.

“Oh, okay,” you muttered, nodding your head as you stood up, taking a deep breath.

“My apologies in advance for how I look right now. As you could tell, I am horrible with time management.” You bit your lip, miming at your head of curlers.

The room snickered, somewhat relaxing you seeing that they weren’t as intimidating and scary as they came off. They all understood how hectic the job could get, and some of them were still needed to change into gear, which made you feel like it was no big deal after all.

“As you know I’m Paul and Stephanie’s eldest daughter and I am currently serving as a freshman creative writer and backstage producer on the main roster. But before this, I had been writing storylines for NXT, the developmental brand, for about a year and a half. And before that, I was working in freelance writing after I graduated college.” You said, gaining a little more confidence the more you spoke.

“On screen I play according to my dad, a semi-heel and semi-face heiress to the legacy in which my mother’s side of the family forged and now has merged with father. And now that you’re all here, I just wanted to say thank you for welcoming me with open arms and giving me the opportunity to be a part of your world.” You pressed your hands together, bowing slightly towards them.

You caught a few impressed nods and smiles from the superstars, clearly unaware of your extensive experience and appreciating that you gave them their flowers despite you still being so new to the main roster.

“It’s been a huge deal for me that my father trusts me with creating stories, and I know it’s important that you, the performers who make it your own, feel connected to them, therefore I am always open to talking and hearing what we could do to make it better. So please do not feel intimidated by me at all—I’m seriously the least intimidating person around here, and I can’t wait to work with you all.”

The room filled with a round of applause that made you smile in relief as you sat back down after what felt like eternity with all eyes on you. And of course, like your eyes were trained to look in his direction, you couldn’t miss Seth wearing a tight lip grin and giving you a subtle thumbs up as if he knew you would be looking his way.

Your dad reached over, giving you a small pat on the back, displaying a proud smile.

“Well, that wraps it up. Let’s have a good show tonight, alright?”

Everyone slowly began to file out of your dad’s office, a few superstars sticking around to catch up with him, while some came up to you, indicating their excitement at having you on board. Seth waited until you wrapped up with some of them before approaching you to do the same.

“Good job,” Seth spoke genuinely, giving your arm a gentle tap, “Didn’t know you had so much experience.”

You laughed softly, feeling at ease with him around compared to everyone else.

“I didn’t want to bore you with my resume.” You shrugged.

Your father turned his attention to you both, a surprised look spreading across his face as he gestured between you both.

“You guys met already?”

You looked up at Seth, nodding with a silly grin before turning to your dad. “I actually ran into him on Monday before the show. I was totally klutz and bumped into him.” You confessed embarrassingly.

“Sounds just about right.” Your dad joked, prompting you to roll your eyes.

“She did deceive me a little bit,” Seth started, tipping his head towards you, “Left out that she’s the boss’s daughter.”

Your dad let out a snort, shaking his head knowing that you partly did so because you didn’t want to gloat, but mostly because you wanted to keep your debut a surprise for as long as possible.

“How are you feeling today?” Paul asked curiously, lacing his fingers together as he sat back into his chair.

You played with your fingers idly, smiling a little, “I think I’m getting the hang of it, but I still get nervous getting on live tv.” You admitted.

“Well, tonight’s good practice. You’ve got three short segments with some superstars, so they’ll help you through it.”

Alexa Bliss, Kevin Owens, and Roman Reigns.

You had gone over the script an abundant amount of times having your lines memorized off the top of your head.

Alexa, you had met down in NXT before she was drafted onto the main roster, the two of you becoming good acquaintances outside of the ring. When she found out you two would be having a segment together, she immediately shot you a text, gushing about how excited she was.

Kevin was introduced to you by your dad on Monday night. Him voicing his delight that you decided to come work for the company and all nice things said about the storylines you had forged in NXT prior. He still had a few friends down in developmental who bragged about the storylines you and Shawn were working on together and now that he finally had a face to your name, he was excited about what else you’d do on the main roster.

Roman was someone you watched consistently on TV. He was a part of the same faction Seth and Dean were in—The Shield. You hadn’t met him on Monday since he was on paternity leave, but tonight, having him back in action was the perfect opportunity to introduce yourself.

“Speaking of that,” you diverted your eyes back up to Seth who lingered at your side, “Do you know where Roman might be? I didn’t get the chance to talk to him one on one yet.”

Seth nodded, pointing his thumbs towards the door.

“I’m pretty sure he’s in catering. I’m heading there now if you want to come with.” He offered politely.

And you nodded thankfully, getting up to reach over and give your dad a small hug, “I’ll stop by before the show.”

“Don’t forget to get those out of your hair,” he reminded, chuckling along with Seth as you shook your head. “See you later, Seth,” He added, giving the wrestler a firm handshake before you were on your way.

The hallways were busy with crew members rolling in carts and transporting equipment before doors opened—a rush you were just starting to get used to it. You and Seth were practically shoulder to shoulder trying not to get in anyone’s way. Each time your hand brushed against his arm, you muttered a quiet apology, to which he hushed you, saying it was nothing to worry about.

As the haste in the hallway slowly dwindled, you glanced at him. “Thanks for saying those kinds of things. I really appreciate it.”

So far, Seth was the one superstar you had multiple interactions with and he had been pleasant each and every single time. You figured it was because he held a lot of respect for your dad, but another part of you knew it was just him being a good person.

He met your eyes, nodding his head and rubbing his hands together, “I know how daunting it is, especially when you’re so new to the scene, but just know that everyone already thinks you’re killing it…me especially.” He bragged, gesturing to himself with a smirk.

Your cheeks rose with a smile. “Thank you,” you whispered, and it never seemed to leave your face after that.

Reaching catering, he held the door open for you, letting you through first. Renee and Charlotte had caught a glimpse and immediately waved at you, their eyes briefly widening when they saw Seth strolling in behind you. He said something to you, pointing towards Roman’s back at the same table where the rest of his friends sat.

“Yo, big dog!” He shouted, garnering Roman’s attention as the man looked over his shoulder.

Seth motioned to you then headed off to grab food while you walked up to the man. You immediately greeted him with a glowing smile and a small wave. He grinned, setting his fork down and sticking his hand out to shake yours.

“Hey! Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you, but I just wanted to say hello and introduce myself. I heard you and your wife just welcomed two new little ones—congratulations!” You bubbled, making him smile at the thoughtfulness.

Rising up out of his chair, he opening his arms and gave you a warm appreciative hug.

“Thanks, and it’s nice to meet you too.” He replied, before drawing away, “I saw what you did on Monday and man…the fans already love you.” He smirked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I think they’re still a little skeptical if I’m going to be more like my mom’s character or my dad’s.” You threw your hands up, making him chuckle.

Nearly forgetting, your eyes widened, and you snapped your fingers.

“And hey, if you want to change anything about our segment, just let me know. I’m always in my office and if I’m not there, I’m probably hiding from my dad’s personal assistant.”

He and the rest of the table cracked a laugh, aware that your father kept a close eye on you, especially after what they gathered from the meeting.

“I appreciate that. It’s always nice to know I can talk to you,” He replied earnestly, his statement showing his gratitude before taking his seat again to continue eating.

“Wanna sit?” Seth offered, returning with a plate of food and he pulled out the empty chair beside him for you to take. You nodded, thanking him with a smile as you took a seat.

“So you said that before NXT you were working as a freelance writer,” Renee spoke, leaning towards you across the table and you nodded. “Anything we know you from?”

You thought for a moment, shaking your head.

“To be honest, I don’t think so. I did a lot of screenwriting after college. Short films and mini projects that didn’t really take off, but then after that I got really into creative writing and launched a tiny little column in the local paper about fictional entertainment.”

“Wow, you really are a workhorse.” Dean complimented.

“You have to show us one of your short films someday,” Seth chimed in, chuckling when he saw embarrassment flush over your cheeks.

You shook your head vigorously, covering your face, making everyone laugh and shake their heads.

“It was mediocre at the very least. A lot of angst and tropey plot lines.”

Maybe it was you attempting to be humble or truly just wanting to save yourself the mess, but they all knew deep down that you had a vividly gifted mind. It already proved itself to be true with the experience you had, but more so in the fact that you took the time to make sure everyone in the locker-room knew you were approachable because the storylines meant just as much to you as it did to them.

Charlotte reached across the table, grazing your hand, “We’re all going out to dinner tonight. You should join us!”

She extended the invitation with a friendly smile, hoping you would take her up on it, seeing as though they all wanted to get to know you more.

“You sure?” You asked hesitantly, not wanting to impose.

“Yeah, come on,” Seth nudged you gently, flashing you a toothy grin, “The restaurant we’re going to is known for the best steak in the city and I heard they’ve got a killer dessert menu.” His voice had a teasing lilt, as if trying to entice you.

You pressed your lips together, shoulders caving in shyly until you finally nodded.

“Sure, why not” You gave in, the table hooting with a frenzy, making you smile wider.

“I just have to ask my driver to drop me off. Do you mind giving me the address?” You asked, looking towards Charlotte.

“You could ride with me and Seth after the show,” Roman suggested, jutting his chin over at his buddy who nodded in agreement.

“And we’re staying at the same hotel, so it’ll be no problem getting back.” Seth added, his eyes meeting yours in a reassuring gaze.

You nodded, smiling happily, “That’s perfect, thank you so much! Should I meet you guys in the parking garage after the show?”

They nodded. “We’ll be there.”

“Great! I’m going to get these out of hair, but I’ll see you guys tonight!” You beamed, rising up and giving all of them a wave.

As you wandered away, you suddenly turned back on your heel, shooting Roman a playful point.

“And I’ll see you later for the segment!” You added eagerly, and he chuckled nodding as you went on your way.

By the time the main event match was wrapping up, gorilla was nearly empty. Just a few producers and your dad who hung back sticking around to congratulate Kevin and Roman.

You had been sitting in gorilla after your three segments had wrapped, needing a change in scenery while you worked through your final script and took some producer notes as your dad worked.

Soon enough Roman’s music hit, signaling the end of the show. The hard camera continued rolling for a few more seconds until your dad spoke through the headsets to cut, and soon the two superstars began making their way up the ramp.

You immediately stood up, walking over to the curtain to greet them, watching as they shook each other’s hand.

“Amazing match, you two,” you applauded.

The two men laughed when you stuck your arm out offering them a first bump, not wanting to give them a proper hug due to the sweat and they met your knuckles in a friendly manner.

Roman pointed at you, still catching his breath as a stage hand passed him a bottle of water.

“Parking garage, don’t forget.” He spoke and then chugged the liquid.

You nodded, thanking him for reminding you, “Yeah, I’ll be there as soon as I wrap up here.”

He went over to your father and the rest of the producers, shaking their hands before heading to the locker room to catch a shower and gather his things for the road. You said goodnight to all that were leaving, thanking them for their kind words regarding your segment and all the work you had been doing so far.

Your dad took off his headsets, shrugging off his suit jacket.

“Where you headed off to?” He wondered, watching you collect your laptop and notebook from the monitor desks.

“Charlotte invited me out to dinner with a few people and I’m gonna catch a ride with Roman and Seth there.” You announced cheerfully, holding your things against your chest.

He smiled lovingly, happy to see that they were making an effort to make you feel extra welcomed.

“That’s nice of them. Just make sure you get back to the hotel alright. We have an early flight in the morning.”

“Of course, dad.” You nodded, going to give him a hug, “And if you see Eddie, tell him I said thank you for sending my stuff over to my suite.” You spoke against him.

He nodded, pressing a kiss to cheek forehead. “Shoot me a text when you turn in. I love you.”

“Love you too, dad.”

You quickly made a pit stop at your office to tidy up the space and grab the rest of your belongings, checking that you had everything before the arena locked up for the night. Anticipating the brisk cold of the night, you pulled on your black oversized blazer, giving the room one last look over before shutting the door and walking towards the back entrance where the parking garage was located.

You looked around, stepping further until you spotted Roman and Seth loading up the trunk of their rental with their bags while Charlotte, Renee, and Dean lingered against the rental beside them, making small talk while waiting for you.

Your heels clacked against the concrete, catching their attention.

“Thanks again for the ride,” you chirped, pausing near the boys who finished up sliding in their luggage and bags.

Seth frowned, looking down and around you.

“Where’s your stuff?” He wondered, pointing to the small space he reserved for your things.

You waved your hand off in the air, “Eddie sent it over to my suite earlier in the night. Didn’t want you guys doing extra arm work.”

Roman tsked, patted his biceps and flexing them dramatically, “Don’t worry, baby girl, these puppies can lift anything.”

You giggled, rolling your eyes playfully until Dean whistled, tossing his keys between his palms.

“Let’s get this show on the road. I want my steak pronto.” He said, rubbing his tummy.

You all began getting into your respective cars. Seth taking the liberty of motioning you to follow him, holding open the backdoor for you, “After you.”

“Thanks,” you murmured softly, sliding in and buckling your seatbelt.

He shut your door gently, walking around to the driver’s seat, getting the car started while Roman got comfortable in the passenger. The radio was on low, and Seth deliberately toggled with the climate control, turning on the heating for the backseat, knowing you were a bit chilly now that you sported a jacket over your dress.

He signalled for Dean to go first, waiting as the other car reversed out of the stall, and Seth followed behind en route to the restaurant that was just a few more minutes into the city.

Roman cleared his throat, briefly looking back at you. “How did you feel about your segments?”

You shifted in your seat, sitting up a tad. “It actually went better than I thought! It’s just the thought of the camera being there and the anticipation of going live that gets me all nervous.”

They both understood what you meant, and to be fair they had a bit of an advantage when they were first starting out. Seth, Roman, and Dean having each other to lean on during segments, matches, and promos which made the whole thing feel less intimidating and prepared them for when they became singles competitors.

“Well, if it makes you feel better, the crowd is already receptive to you and you have good chemistry with everyone you’ve worked with so far.” Seth said kindly, eyes looking at you in the rearview, catching a smile that spread across your face even in the dingy lighting of the car.

The rest of the drive was full of chitchat—Roman gushing over his kids, pride sweltering as he spoke about them and how much he missed them while on the road. Seth expressed the same feelings, except regarding his adorable yorkie named Kevin who he had since his NXT days.

You had a little bit of both—three little sisters whom you were extremely close with, and like a second mother figure to them, and childhood dogs who snuggled you each time you came to visit home.

When you all arrived, Seth the ever gentleman he was, opened your door, helping you out before you all walked in. The restaurant was rustic yet sleek, nothing too fancy or out of the ordinary, which was charming for a nice spot in the city. The heavy wooden doors gave way to the space adorned with marble countertops and wooden panelling that complimented the setting.

“You guys can follow me…” the hostess instructed, guiding your group towards the back of the restaurant in a secluded corner perfect for all seven of you.

Everyone picked their seats—Dean and Renee sitting on one side along with Charlotte. Roman sat at the head of the table and you and Seth sat directly across from the trio, with you on the tail end.

He pulled out the chair for you, nodding his head as you smiled and bowed slightly at the gesture. “Why thank you,” you giggled, taking a seat as he pushed the chair in slightly and took the empty adjacent to Roman.

The hostess got you all started with some menus, letting you all browse over it before she would come back and get your orders. You flipped through the laminated pages, picking two items just in case they were out of the other.

You peered over at Seth who was doing the same until you nudged your elbow gently into his, gaining his attention as he perked up and nodded towards you.

“What are you getting?”

“A medium rare tomahawk, potatoes, and a water,” He said without skipping a beat or taking another look at the menu, “I already knew what I was gonna get.”

The act alone made you giggle, shaking your head at him as he too broke out into a laugh, watching you fold up your menu as you settled down.

“So you were just trying to fit in the whole time?” You bantered, narrowing your eyes at him.

He rubbed his hands over his chest, nodding, “I didn’t want to be the only one not looking at the menu.” He whispered, eyes shifting to everyone else who was still deciding what they were going to get.

You sat back, folding your arms across your chest, shifting an inch closer to him, “I probably won’t get anything too fancy, but I am definitely getting some red wine…you’re not having a beer?”

He shook his head, mimicking your action, his shoulder pressed against your arm. “I am transporting precious cargo and I would hate for you to suffer even a scratch.”

You felt warm all over, trying to suppress another smile that always seemed to be incessantly glued to your face whenever Seth said something nice to you. And you failed to conceal it again, letting your cheeks rise.

“I appreciate your chivalry.” You spoke quietly enough for just him to hear.

“You’re getting dessert after too, right?” He insisted, pointing at the image of a chocolate lava cake that he was most certainly talking up earlier in the night.

You pursed your lips, not knowing if you could stomach it by yourself. “Wanna split it?”

He smirked, nodding, “Yeah sure, but just letting you know, I am going to ask for a scoop of vanilla ice cream over top.”

“Sounds divine.” You wiggled your brows, making him chuckle.

Dinner was full of laughter, with food and drinks served on the side. It had been a while since you had been around people who made you laugh so much without even trying too hard. All of them were so lively, cracking jokes left and right and somehow still being able to carry a casual conversation without missing a beat.

You felt safe around all of them, a kind of camaraderie that didn’t make you feel as if you were just solely the boss’s daughter, but rather a friend in the making through your new venture in life. Good things took time, and you knew the friendships you were going to make with all of them was totally worth it.

“No, they did not!” Renee and Charlotte stared at you wide eyed, the rest of the table bursting out into laughs while you nodded your head instantaneously and rested your palms on the tabletop, leaning towards them.

“I swear to god, I’m not making this up!” You drew an x over your heart, holding your palms in the air.

“Maybe I pissed the guy off for turning him down, but there I was getting ready to drive to class and that piece of shit spray painted “suck it!” all over my car!” You exclaimed, disturbed, but not for long, as you threw your head back and laughed uncontrollably.

The girls followed suit, hunching over the table, reaching for your arms and clinging to you while you all laughed like little kids. You had no clue how you got to talking about your terrible college experience with boys, but somehow you got there, and everyone was dumbfounded that one guy you turned down would go all Degeneration X on you.

“Your parents must have been pissed, right?” Dean sought, settling down with a stiffled laugh.

Your eyes widened as you nodded, sipping on your wine before you replied.

“Oh, they were livid once they first found out! But eventually when it passed, and I got it painted over, we just couldn’t stop laughing because it was just so absurd.”

Roman shook his head, staring at you in amazement.

“I can’t believe we didn’t know about you this entire time. Your parents really kept you out of the limelight, huh?”

You nodded, “That, and the fact that having a baby out of wedlock really wasn’t something my parents wanted out at the time—mostly because of my grandpa Vince.”

They all winced, grinning guiltily knowing of course Vince of all people was the one who wanted to keep his daughter’s premarital pregnancy under wraps. Thankfully, now it wasn’t such a big deal and you and your parents found it slightly comical.

“What’s funny is that I swore I saw you running up and down the arenas back when I was like 10 and you were like 3?” Charlotte recalled, looking over at you puzzled.

You nodded, gesturing up at your hair. “If my hair was in pigtails and I sported a gigantic DX shirt as a dress, then yes. That was totally me causing trouble in the corridors.”

Seth peered at you, watching you closely. “How come you didn’t want to get into the business sooner?”

You sighed heavily, shrugging your shoulders, “I don’t know. I guess I just thought it was too much. Too much business. Too much drama. Too many feelings getting hurt, especially when family is involved.” You pointed out to which everyone understood.

“How’d your dad convince you?” He added, knowing it must have not been so easy.

You set your elbow on the table, resting your chin on your first as you stared at him ardently.

“I had a feeling my dad was going to take over the company, and at that time I wasn’t doing a lot, so when he came to me and pitched the idea, I was a teeny bit hesitant, but he promised me I could have all the creative freedom I wanted. So long as I didn’t erase history or disregarded any talent’s input.”

Seth nodded along, listening to you express your relationship with the company and most importantly your dad. It was clear that you had no intentions of getting involved because to be fair you loved what you did on your own, but you took a risk and fell in love with writing storylines that were refreshing for the product and the new era of television they were in.

Many of the superstars, including Seth were thrilled when it was announced that Paul was taking over, but adding you into the mix made everything feel a little different in the best way possible. Usually writers and producers pushed back against their ideas and suggestions, but you exhibited a profound way of keeping and getting them involved in the product behind the scenes in a way that many never got to chance to have.

He knew, just as well as everyone else that you were going to leave your mark. The way you talked about your craft and the sincerity that leaked with every word had him enthralled—that was until Dean broke up the stare he had on you.

“We better cross our fingers we get a script written by you.” Dean raised his glass, breaking the silence.

You blinked slowly, the warmth still lingering in the air between you and Seth as you shifted your eyes to the rest of your friends lifting their glasses to you.

“To the Levesque Era,” Seth declared, following suit and nodding for you to pick up your wine glass.

“And new beginnings,” you continued, your voice soft but sanguine, the rim of your glass clinking with his lightly as you repeated the sentiment with everyone else.

As promised, you and Seth shared a chocolate molten lava cake topped with vanilla bean ice cream. The two of you sliding the plate between each other, sitting back comfortably as you listened to everyone catch you up on what they were up to in their lives outside the company.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted the hostess. You smiled at her, straightening up as she approached. Subtly, you handed her your card, and she nodded, promising to be back with the receipt.

As she walked away and you discreetly tucked your wallet back into your purse, Seth leaned in over your shoulder, wondering what you were up to.

“What did you just do?” He asked, his mouth still full, staring at you with a mix of suspicion and amusement.

You looked back at him, slowly relaxing back as you bit your lip and tried to pretend you didn’t hear him the first time.

“What do you mean?” you raised your brow at him.

He swallowed, shaking his head. “Did you just pay? I told you it was on us,” He protested, eyes widening in playful disbelief.

“Oh hey c’mon, that’s cheating.” Roman chimed in, pointing at you.

You held your hands up in defense, a smirk playing on your lips. “No, seriously, it’s on me. You guys invited me out, and it’s the least I could do.”

“Next time we’re baring you from even sticking your hand in your purse,” Renee threatened, sticking her hand out for you to shake on it.

Giggling, you nodded as you clasped her hand. “You have my word.”

You let go, all of you beginning to wrap up and get ready to head out for the night.

Seth, still shaking his head, leaned closer, a mischievous look in his eyes.

“You’re something else, you know that?”

“Just trying to make a good impression.” You argued with a playful shrug.

“Well, you’re definitely succeeding,” he retorted, voice true despite the teasing tone that came along with it.

The night winded down perfectly, zero traffic heading back to the hotel and sleepiness just on the precipice of settling behind your eyes. You, Seth, and Roman said goodnight to three after you and the girls exchanged phone numbers while the men got their bags and suitcases unloaded from the trunks.

“What floor?” Roman ordered, looking over towards you and Seth entering the elevator.

“Six,” you and Seth said in unison, turning to each other with matching looks of surprise and a shared laugh. Roman chuckled as he pressed the buttons for both floors.

The elevator hummed quietly as it ascended, a comfortable silence settling over the three of you after the night of laughter and conversations you had. When it dinged on Roman’s floor, he reached around, pulling you into a small hug.

“Thanks again for dinner.”

“Of course! You have a good night.” You replied warmly, returning the hug and stepping back. Roman and Seth exchanged a firm handshake, a silent nod of understanding between them before Roman exited the elevator.

As the doors closed, and continued its ascension to the sixth floor, Seth turned to you with a gentle smile. “Want me to walk you to your room?”

You nodded without a second thought, feeling a warmth spread through your chest.

“I’d like that.”

The hallway was quiet and shadowy, the carpeted floors muffling your footsteps and rolling of his suitcase as you walked sided by side. Your room was at the end of the corridor, just a few doors away from him. Stopping in front of your door, you searched your bag for the keycard.

“Thanks again for tonight.” He kept his eyes on you, catching the way you looked up past your lashes, and shook your head with a small smile.

“It’s the least I could do, and thank you for making me feel welcomed. It really means a lot to me.” You said, finally fishing the key out of your bag.

“Any chance I can treat you for coffee in the morning?” He proposed politely, wanting to return the gesture.

But you pouted wistfully, shaking your head and feeling genuinely bummed.

“I’ve actually got an early flight. It’s my little sister’s birthday and me and my dad are surprising her.” You apologized, wishing your fight was later in the day.

Seth nodded understandingly, not letting his disappointment show past his smile. “That’s alright. Tell her I said happy birthday.”

You grinned, nodding, “Of course! And I’ll definitely take you up on that coffee date when I get back.” You promised, eyes twinkling with anticipating for it.

“Looking forward to it,” he breathed, his gaze lingering on you as you slid the key into your door, turning the handle.

You gave him one last smile, feeling just a tad reluctant to end the night despite your tiredness.

“Night, Seth.”

“Night sweetheart.” He said quietly, watching as you stepped inside and offered him one last wave before shutting the door.

And so he walked back a few doors down, looking down your way one last time, already hoping for the next time he’d see you again.

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

a/n: i hope you guys like chapter two of icsy!!! i was aiming to do something domestic and fun, and i thought why not dinner with the whole crew and a side of seth and reader flirting like idiots the whole time??? let me know what you guys think and i cannot wait for you to read the next chapter (hehehe it's already one of my faves <3).

[fabriziosbardella]

Davanti a circa 3200 spettatori le farfalle hanno festeggiato la permanenza in serie A1 e le pantere una stagione senza sconfitte, #UYBAconegliano é finita 1 a 3. #UYBAconegliano #pallavolo #volley #bustoarsizio #e-workarena #sport #farfalle #proseccodocimoco #campionato #fabriziosbardella #inevidenza #primopiano

[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.  

[architectureandfilmblog]

Les Étoiles d’Ivry, René​e Gailhoustet and Jean Renaudie, 1975

THE HUNGER GAMES: MOCKINGJAY PART II (2015)

This site was the second Parisian housing complex to feature in the film, with Ricardo Bofill's Espaces Abraxas playing a larger role. None of the architects responsible would have envisaged their work as it was cast here: as residences for a facist elite. On the contrary, both projects provided social housing, and sought, in their own way, to redefine what that type of building could be architecturally. Bofill hoped to elevate the lives of residents by transplanting a language of perceived grandeur, monumentality and luxury into the arena of low income residences.  And Gailhoustet and Jean Renaudie wanted to break free of the bland monotony of characterless, cookie cutter units which often characterised social housing. Photo (cropped) by Robert Doisneau

[doc-pickles]

waking up in vegas | matthew tkachuk x hughes!sister (pt.8)

series masterlist

summary: things between you and Matthew heat up… and not in a good way…

warnings: it’s about to get aaaaangsty

a/n: hehehe sorry not sorry. don’t forget my inbox is always open! enjoy!!

xoxo

nina

Matthew had just walked in from morning skate, hair still dripping from his shower as he leaned over the back of the couch to kiss your forehead, “How was practice?”

“Good, I think we’re ready for tonight,” Matthew smirked as he settled on the couch next to you, his hand coming down to cup your belly. “Whatcha working on?”

“Mmm trying to find a lawyer,” you barely looked up from your laptop as you spoke. “The one my dad recommended doesn’t specialize in divorce so now I’m trying to find one that isn’t a total sleazebag.”

There’s silence as you continue to type, but you stopped after a minute to look at Matthew. His face was... expressionless for lack of better words. Eyes trained on your belly he sat silently until he realized you were staring at him.

“That’s uh… Yeah,” Matthew cleared his throat and stood up, running a hand through his curls. “I’m gonna… Go for a run. I’ll be back later.”

You set your laptop aside and follow Matthew towards the door, “Matty, come on. I thought that’s what you wanted? All of this has just been-”

“Been what? A mistake? Is that what you were going to say,” Matthew turned and looked at you, your face blanching when you realized that was what you were going to say. “Thought so.”

“Matthew can we please talk about this,” you reached forward and grabbed his arm, stopping his movements. “That’s not what I meant, okay?”

“No, I get it, it’s fine,” Matthew pulled his arm away and continued toward the door. “I’ll be back later.”

Without another word Matthew walked out the door, leaving you speechless in the entryway of the house. The two of you had grown closer but you had assumed that he’d still wanted a divorce. You weren’t in love, being married didn’t make sense then did it?

You went through the motions of the rest of the day, taking a shower and getting ready for the Panthers game tonight. Matthew had texted and let you know that he went straight to the arena. You wanted to skip the game all together but they were playing the Devils tonight and your mom was going to meet you at the game. Standing in front of your closet you looked between your Devils jersey and the Panthers one you had been wearing for the past few games. With a sigh you reached past both for a black sweatshirt and left the house.

+

“My baby! Look at you, you’re glowing!”

Your mom’s sweet words helped to relieve some of the pain in your chest from your altercation with Matthew. She hugged you tightly and you held on a little longer than normal before you two headed to your seats. Both teams had just begun to warm up, the players slowly trickling onto the ice from the locker rooms.

“What’s wrong?” At your mother’s words you turned toward her, noting the frown across her face. “Normally you’d be talking my ear off and eating your weight in popcorn. Something is bothering you.”

“Matthew and I got into a fight this morning,” you sighed, knowing that keeping things from your mom never worked in your favor. “We’ve been getting closer since I moved out here but… I don’t know it’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid if you’re this upset about it, baby,” your mom planted a hand on your thigh, the touch comforting as you took a deep breath. “Whatever it is I’m sure you two can work it out.”

“I told him I was still looking for a divorce lawyer,” you blurted out. “And he got angry about that and left. And I… I don’t know what to do. We’ve been getting closer but it still feels like a marriage of convenience at this point. I mean if I wasn’t pregnant we’d be divorced by now.”

“But you are pregnant,” your mother pointed out as she squeezed your thigh. “And that changes everything. Matthew could want to stay married just for the baby, but I think that there’s something more there. But even if you did stay together for the baby, it wouldn’t be like you were shackled to some stranger. You’ve known him your whole life and deep down I think there’s attraction there on both your parts.”

You sighed, leaning your head against your mom’s shoulder as the lights in the arena began to dim. Leave it to Ellen Hughes to give you the exact advice you needed.

“Do you really think Matthew feels something for me?”

“I think it’s worth exploring,” your mom smirked as she pressed a kiss to your head.

The game started shortly after that and you were filled with a sense of hope about your future with Matthew. You’d obviously need to talk with him about everything, but your mom had encouraged you to take that step and see what lay ahead for the two, almost three, of you.

“Oh my god,” your mom gasped out next to you. You looked back to the ice where a fight had broken out. The benches were cleared as the Devils and Panthers went at it. You couldn’t see Matthew or your brothers, your heart clenching at the realization.

“What happened?”

The question was futile as the jumbotron displayed a playback of Luke taking a dirty hit from…

Oh no.

You watched in horror as Matthew dropped his gloves and socked Luke in the mouth. The two quickly fell to the ice, Jack joining in on the action before the rest of the team joined in as well.

With your mothers hand clutched tightly in yours you both watched as the swarm of players cleared and your brothers appeared again. Luke’s face was bloodied and he held his arm as he skated toward the tunnel. Jack followed him, bloody hands and disheveled hair the only sign he was involved. You didn’t even bother looking for Matthew as both you and your mother got up and rushed down to the visitors locker room.

+

You arrived home later than you’d anticipated, Matthew’s car already in the driveway. Jack’s hand had been fine if a little bruised, but Luke would be out for a week with a minor wrist sprain. After the events of the day you were exhausted and wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed, but fate had other plans for you.

“Baby,” Matthew stood from his spot on the couch as soon as you opened the door. “I’m so-“

“Matthew I really don’t want to get into this tonight,” your hurt had morphed into an anger that was sitting like a hot coal in your chest.

“Can we please just talk for a second,” Matthew pleaded as you hung your coat up and tied off your shoes. “I just want to talk about today, okay?”

You whirled around to face Matthew, tears pooling in your eyes, “You wanna talk? Fine, we’ll talk. I get that you were upset with me this morning but that’s no excuse for what you did to Luke.”

“I-“

“No Matthew! You don’t get to talk,” your voice was unrecognizable as you stared Matthew down, tears streaming down your cheeks and anger filling every word you spat at him. “You hurt Luke to hurt me and that’s crossing a line. If you want to be mad at me then fine be mad at me. Or maybe use your grown up words and come talk to me. But do not ever bring my brothers into this again or I will walk out that door so fast.”

Matthew nodded, watching you stomp up the stairs without attempting to follow you. When you got to the hallway you stood there for a second, looking between your room and Matthew’s room. You haven't slept in your room in months but tonight you needed the reprieve of putting space between you and Matthew.

You quickly change into your pajamas and lay in bed, all of the hope your mother had instilled in you earlier fading away as you laid in bed alone crying.

[phykios]

Kiss Me Where You Bruise Me Percy Jackson is fated to die on his twenty-first birthday, after a lifetime of battling monsters. Annabeth Chase is doing her hardest not to get attached, but towards the end of the war, emotions are running high, and she can only resist her feelings--and his kiss--for so long. (Aged up/stretchy canon au of PJO, rated E for smut) read on ao3

Annabeth could sense the dark mood which smothered the camp even from all the way inside the attic of the Big House. With an angry huff, she slammed her heavy book shut, a cloud of dust bursting from the pages, before sliding it back on the shelf. Wasn’t like she was going to get any work done now, anyway. 

Sure enough, her suspicions were confirmed as soon as she came down the ladder, and was nearly bowled over by Will Solace as he half-dragged, half-carried Charlie Beckendorf to the infirmary. “Sorry,” she said, scooching back against the wall. “Rough quest?” 

Beckendorf, to his credit, flashed a smile at her. “Nah,” he croaked, “walk in the park.” 

Beneath his hand, which was pressed to his side, a red stain slowly grew on the orange fabric. She raised an eyebrow.

“It’s better than it looks,” Beckendorf protested as Will forced him down onto an infirmary bed. “Honest!” 

Will snorted. “I’m not even going to dignify that with a response.” 

“You just did.” 

“Tell me what happened,” Annabeth said, pointedly. She did not have time for banter.

Beckendorf hissed as Will pulled his shirt back, revealing three long, thin, wet stripes. “Remember how we said it was supposed to be a recon mission?” 

Oh for gods’ sake–“What did he do this time?” 

“In his defense, this time it was my fault.” 

She stared at him.

“Honest!” 

“I’m sure.” 

“It actually was my fault this time–I accidentally tripped a wire, and then our recon turned into a–”

“A shit-show?” 

He swallowed his gasp as Will pressed on the claw marks on his body. “Something like that.” 

Annabeth pinched the bridge of her nose. “And let me guess. Instead of retreating, and salvaging the recon as much as he could, Percy decided that the best course of action would be to try and wipe the camp out, so the enemy wouldn’t know their location had been compromised.” 

“...Well, yeah.” 

“And did he?” 

“Of course.” 

“All of them this time?” 

His silence spoke volumes. 

She sighed again, headache already beginning to manifest. “And where is he now?” 

“Where do you think?” 

“You,” said Will, gently shoving Annabeth towards the door, “out. This could get messy.” 

Annabeth had a strong stomach, but Beckendorf was turning green, and since Will hadn’t asked for support, it was probably something he could handle on his own. In any case, she did not want to be in the line of fire if something went sideways. 

Besides, she had a son of Poseidon to find. 

Not that he was hard to find. He was exactly where he always was. 

The arena was empty, save him. That was not in and of itself surprising. General swordsmanship class had been indefinitely suspended as of last summer, so the kids had to get in their practice whenever they could, with whomever was around. And most of the camp was too smart to go toe-to-toe with their best fighter whenever he got into one of his moods. Even his flock of obsessive, simpering groupies were missing, instead of peeking around the corner to watch him as he worked, giggling between their fingers, putting the collective gossip machine of Ten to shame.

She heard him before she saw him, the smack of metal on straw punctuated with a grunt, or a growl. He looked as if he hadn’t even showered or changed after returning to camp, just dumped Beck at the infirmary and made a beeline for the arena, armor and all. Typical. Gone was the sweet, if sarcastic boy who had welcomed her to camp, and in his place was a scowling, broody, capital-W-warrior. 

Recently, he had really begun to lean into something of a role here at camp–the prophecy child, the son of Poseidon. He walked around with an albatross so heavy around his neck, you could almost see the slump in his shoulders. He sat with his back turned to the rest of the camp at mealtimes, picking at his food, often leaving with a huff halfway through. She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen him at a sing-along, or a capture-the-flag game, or even just hanging around the camp, playing basketball and shooting the shit. 

No, he had chosen to devote himself entirely to the war effort. Which, fine, whatever, it wasn’t like they couldn’t use it. She wanted to do the same thing, but she had siblings to look after. But he practically lived in the arena, training constantly. The piles of laundry and trash never moved, always the same shape and size from week to week–some of the other counselors were beginning to think that he slept there, too. 

While the demigod in question was engrossed with mutilating the straw dummy like it had insulted his mother, Annabeth chose to take a seat on the bleachers instead, and wait until he had tired himself out enough for him to take a break. She had made the mistake of interrupting him during a set before, and would like to walk away from this without his sword in her face. 

The minutes stretched on, and he kept slashing. She was sure that he had registered her presence at some point. But he kept on fighting. 

Annabeth sighed, resting her head on her knees. 

Even after all this time, after all the quests they had done together, he could still confuse the living crap out of her. 

Percy Jackson. The strongest demigod of his age. And he knew it. Which was half the problem. 

He had been at camp longer than anyone else here. Annabeth, who had arrived at fourteen, escorted by a satyr who had picked her up in Richmond, had been as awed as anyone when she first heard about him. And who wouldn’t be? He had gutted the Minotaur with its own horn at age ten. He had bested Luke Castellan in swordsmanship at twelve. Annabeth hadn’t been there when he and Thalia had been placed on opposite capture-the-flag teams, but she’d heard about it afterwards–and had seen the overturned trees around the flooded creek. 

Despite the rumors, their first meeting had been thoroughly unimpressive. After all the talk of his talent and his prowess and his preference for being alone, she had clocked him, not entirely incorrectly, as mostly bark and very little bite, using his power and his sarcasm to keep people at bay. But she was able to match him snark for snark, and in no time at all, they were fast friends, a bond only made stronger by the life-threatening quests they had undertaken together. 

She’d seen him at his best–training with the pegasi, commanding a great war ship through a dangerous sea, holding aloft a blue flag after successfully executing her flawless capture-the-flag plan. And she’d seen him at his worst–shivering after holding the sky, squeaking incessantly as a guinea pig, tied to Procrustes’ mattress. He’d faced more monsters than anyone else at camp. Probably more than any other demigod in a long, long time. And it had made him… well, not pig-headed, not really. Percy was, at his core, too humble to be truly arrogant. 

But something had definitely changed over the last few years. He had become sullen, withdrawn, quicker to anger. Then one night, he would show up at the campfire, and it would be like nothing had changed. Like the sweet kid had become a kind leader, offering encouragement to his peers and comfort to the younger ones. And then the next morning, he would saunter out of his cabin, hair a mess, a glazed, satisfied look in his eyes, and all of Cabin Ten would be abuzz, trying to piece together what had happened. 

Then by lunch, he’d be in a bad mood once again. And on and on and on. 

Twenty years old and a living legend, with the weight of the cosmos on your shoulders. Annabeth could sympathize. But she couldn’t even imagine.

How could he walk around with that weight all the time? 

A hoarse yell and a clang snapped her out of her thoughts, and she lifted her head to a familiar scene.

Percy stood, fists clenched, shoulders tight, over what was left of the dummy, now sliced and diced into stringy bits, no more useful than a pile of pegasus hay. His sword–not his precious Riptide, oh no, just one of their few good training weapons left–was on the other side of the arena, its blade bent nearly at a forty-five degree angle. Annabeth stood up, hands on her hips. “Hey! Seaweed brain!”

He turned to face her. She could see the arrogant arch of his brow from across the room.

“Easy on the equipment!” She stomped down the steps, resisting the urge to shoulder check him as she went to get the sword. “We only have so many of these.” 

Percy shrugged. “And how is that my problem?” 

“I thought you were supposed to be good at this.” She picked up the weapon, examining the bent blade. Oof. That was ugly. “Not damaging the weapons is rule number two.” 

He only shrugged again, turning away to kick the remains of the dummy into something of a pile. Annabeth felt her eye twitch. “Again, how is that my problem? Just get someone from Nine to deal with it.” 

“And who do you think is going to fix this?” She asked, brandishing it at his back. “Jake? He’s busy with the warship? Nyssa? Supply run. And now Beck’s not in any kind of shape to do anything–”

Whirling around, he bared his teeth at her. “Don’t,” he hissed, “bring him up.” 

“Oh, I’m gonna.” Gripping the leather so hard it hurt, she stepped toward him. “Easy in and out,  you said. No fights. No attention. Just stealth. And now, I’ve got Beckendorf in the infirmary, just barely keeping his guts from falling out.” 

“I got us out of there,” he said, “and I took care of the monsters. That’s all that matters.” 

“That’s all that matters?” She was aware, distantly, that she was only a few steps away from yelling at him. Already. They’d barely started talking. Something about him just drove her fucking crazy. “Are you serious?” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, General Chase,” he mocked, rolling his eyes at her. “I’ll just do all my missions solo from now on. No more dead weight.” 

Anger rose from her stomach, hot and ugly. “Is that a joke?” she repeated. “Those are our friends that are getting hurt trying to keep you from doing something stupid!”

His jaw rounded out, stubborn. “I didn’t ask for him to do that. I don’t need your help.”

“We’re fighting a war, Percy,” she said. “We have to help each other. That’s what it means to be on the same team.”

“I don’t care about your stupid team.”

“That’s why you’re in here, breaking our last good weapons? Because you don’t care?” 

“Look,” he nearly spat, drawing himself up to his full height, looking down at her. “I have one job –to be the hero of the prophecy. To defeat Kronos. Everything else–that’s your business, not mine.” 

And then he turned. To walk away. From her. 

He didn’t get more than ten steps before Annabeth had hurled the sword at him. It bounced off his armor, harmlessly, but it got his attention. 

“Hey! You could have–”

“Hurt you?” She marched up to him, poking him in the chest with her finger. It had about as much effect as the sword. “How? You’re the big hero, after all. You’re untouchable!” And then she shoved him. 

He stumbled back, tripping over his foot before righting himself. “I’m not–”

“Not what? Not the hero?” She shoved him again, but he was ready this time. “That’s funny. You’ve only been preparing for it your entire life, right? That’s why we’re all here, isn’t it?” 

“Annabeth–” 

“Every quest, every monster, every fight, they’ve all been so you can have your precious glory,” she snarled. “You and your destiny! Doesn’t matter how many of us get hurt in the process, does it, as long as you get to be remembered–”

“That’s not fair–” He started, face coloring with indignation. 

But she wouldn't hear it. Sick of his face and his attitude and his destiny, she moved to shove him one more time–and he grabbed her wrist. 

“Don’t,” he warned, voice as hard as a crashing wave, “do that again.” 

His gaze bored down on her, and she stood as firmly as stone against it. She could feel his heartbeat through the press of his fingers on her wrist. 

“Or what?” she asked. “Next time it’ll be me instead of Beckendorf?” 

His eyes widened, then narrowed, and with a snarl, he released her arm, uncapping his sword in one smooth, clean move. 

This, Annabeth understood. She and Percy weren’t always on the same page, but this? She could work with this. 

In response, she drew her knife. 

Percy didn’t even wait before launching himself at her. 

His opening salvo had all the force of a tsunami crashing to shore, and if Annabeth had been any slower, it would have slammed into her, knocking her off her feet. She side-stepped it easily, following it up with a quick jab to his center. He dodged it, of course. They had sparred with each other too often to not recognize the other’s signature moves. 

Usually, when he got like this, it took someone on his level to knock some sense back into him. Thalia was best at it, but wasn’t around enough to be reliable. Nico worked in a pinch, though there was enough bad blood between them that parts of camp tended to get leveled by the end of it. If it was an emergency, Clarisse could step in and hold him off for long enough until he tired himself out. 

But no one else was here. It was just Annabeth. 

Fortunately for her, she’d had almost her whole life to study Percy Jackson. 

He lunged, and in a move that Luke Castellan had taught them both, she feinted out of the way at the last second, before diving in towards him behind the reach of his blade, where she grabbed his arm, and flipped him over her shoulder. He landed with a satisfying thud, the breath knocked out of him.

There. “Now, are you going to–” 

He swiped wildly at her feet, and she jumped back. 

Swifter than she thought he could be, he scrambled to his feet. He advanced on her, bringing his sword down in an overhead arc, which she handily blocked. “Please,” she scoffed, light on her feet as she shifted to his side. “I know how you fight. I know you.” 

Eyes narrowed, he twisted, bringing his sword down towards her leg, where her blade was already waiting. Block, block, block, each ringing clang of their weapons sounded in a rhythm Cabin Seven would be proud of as Annabeth fended them all off. Because she did know him. He might drive her crazy, he might hiss and growl and glare, but they had fought alongside each other too long to not know each other, down to their cores. 

Of course, that meant that he knew her, too. And he knew very well that her fatal flaw was pride. 

So sure of herself, she hadn’t noticed that he had steadily closed the distance between them. With a flash of bared teeth, right in her face, he caught her wrist in his left hand, pinning her in place. “You don’t know a thing about me,” he hissed. 

In the dim light of the arena, his already sharp features sharpened even further, eyes glinting with fury. Mouth open, he was panting, his shoulders heaving with the effort of having to keep up with her. Good. 

“You’re right,” she said, knifelike. “Maybe I don’t know you. Because I always thought you considered us your friends, instead of just your cannon-fodder!” 

He roared, shoving her forward, and she skidded across the grass, nearly tripping over her feet. Distantly, she noted that her wrist was throbbing. 

Percy swung his sword, building up his energy, and holding it aloft, he charged towards her, every inch of him radiating near-deadly intent. 

There was no way she could block this strike. 

So she decided to take a page out of Percy’s book. 

Dropping her knife, she charged right back at him, aiming low. 

She caught him around the middle, and their opposite forces sent them both tumbling to the ground. They rolled, limbs flailing as they fought for the upper hand, like two waves crashing into each other. 

But he wouldn’t be taken off guard a second time. Using the new momentum, he rolled so he was on top of her, his big hands pinning her wrists to the ground. Annabeth fought like a woman possessed–a soft grunt from above indicating that she got in a good hit or two–but he was simply too strong for her to throw him off. 

“I guess you really don’t know me at all,” he spat. His lip had split at some point, a single drop of dark blood lingering at the swell of it. “Because anyone I consider to be my friend would know that I would never think that.” 

“Could have fooled me,” she growled, pulling her legs up behind him. If she could just get the right leverage, maybe she could twist them and–

Anticipating her move, he shimmied down, dropping his hips over her thighs. She tried to lift her arm–to punch him or shove him or something–but he slammed them back down towards the ground. 

She wasn’t going anywhere. And he knew it.

But she had one last secret weapon. 

“At least you bothered to bring him back with you,” she said, unkindly–and a little undeservedly, if she was being honest. “If I had been on that mission instead of Beck, would you have left me behind?” 

“Never,” he swore. “I would never.” 

“Oh yeah? Prove it.” 

Percy glared at her, with all the fury of a volcano. She swallowed, worried, for a moment, that she had gone too far. That it was actually true. That maybe he could leave her behind, especially after everything she just said. That maybe she really didn’t know him after all. 

And then he did something that she wasn’t expecting. In retrospect, though, she shouldn’t have been surprised. She had done the same thing to him, after all.  

He kissed her. 

Turns out, he had a secret weapon, too. 

His mouth was hot on top of hers, the bead of blood from his lips falling to her tongue. She gasped, and he invited himself in further, his hand coming up to cup her face. Freeing her arms.  

She could have pushed him off. Told him to go kick rocks. Instead, she buried her hands in his hair, and brought him closer. 

How long they lay there, making out, she didn’t know. All she knew was that it was entirely too short–one moment, he licked at her lips, pressing her further into the dirt, and she whined, high in her throat, and in the next, he was standing a respectable distance away, hands over his mouth, eyes wild. Annabeth blinked, momentarily stunned. Had she hallucinated the whole thing? 

“I–” he stammered, uncharacteristically nervous. “I–I’m sorry, I–” 

Annabeth scrambled upright. Oh no he fucking didn’t– “Don’t you fucking dare–don’t you run away again.”

From the way he had put his weight on his back foot, he was about to do just that. “Excuse me?” he asked, gaping at her. 

“You heard me.” 

“Me? Run away?”

“Yes, you,” she said, gripping the grass hard enough to rip. “You’re a coward, Percy Jackson.” Here he was. Kissing her, and running off again. Last time, it had been to Calypso and Ogygia. Who might he choose over Annabeth now. Or maybe he’d choose a new god or goddess, perhaps. Romance Thetis or fuck Ganymede while Annabeth trained for his war. And pined away for his kiss. 

“Go fuck yourself,” he said, wiping the blood from his split lip, made wet and shiny with her spit. 

She threw a piece of grass at him, like it would do something. “Fuck me yourself” she snarled, blood racing hot. Not Calypso or Thetis or Ganymede or Aphrodite, but her, who was here and desperate and was fated to be screwed up forever by his kiss. By the memory of his hand, cupping her cheek, of his hair between her fingers, of his blood in her mouth. 

The grass, predictably, did nothing. But her words, apparently, did. 

He turned to stare at her, two sword lengths apart. Both of their weapons were on the ground now. But it felt like they were up and at the ready, pointed at each other’s chests. Because what else could this tense, coiled feeling in her stomach be? 

His chest heaved from exertion, a faint sheen of sweat gathered at the line of his thick, black hair, and she couldn’t help herself from tracing a drop as it ran over his brow, to his nose, to his lips, and finally his tongue, poking out from his lips to lick it up. A swell of jealousy rose in her, her tongue pressing against the back of her teeth, like it was trying to get to him. She clenched her jaw and looked away, digging her nails into the dirt floor to try to anchor her back to earth. 

“...What did you say?” 

“Nothing,” she muttered. “You won. Whatever.” 

In the corner of her vision, she saw his hand, outstretched and extended, and she took it, allowing him to pull her up off the ground. His long fingers, perfect for curling around the hilt of a sword, wrapped around her palm, his thumb inadvertently swiping over the bruise where he had grabbed her, and she suppressed a wince. 

“You okay?” 

Not well enough, it seemed. “Fine.” 

His hand in hers, he brought it to his face, inspecting the purple spot. She could feel his breath on her fingers, so soft and gentle, an unexpected counterpoint to his firm, steady grip. “I’m sorry,” he said, unable to meet her eyes. 

“It’s okay.” It didn’t actually hurt that bad. It’d probably be gone by tomorrow morning. 

He stared at her for a long moment, his eyes dark and stormy. Looking into her own, their hands still clasped together.

And then he leaned forward and she met him halfway.

The last time anyone had ever kissed Annabeth Chase was at a party after the Harvard-Yale game her freshman year, before she’d decided she had to take a leave of absence to be a full-time demigod. (Even her dad agreed that if the world ended, there would not be a lot of use for BS in Architecture. But neither of them were happy about it.) The guy had smelled like beer, and had half his face painted crimson. She’d also been a little drunk. Mostly because the tequila shots her roommate had provided had ended up stronger than camp strawberry wine, which had always been her go to drink of choice. Before that had been Noah from her freshman seminar. Which had been one long exercise in disappointment. After disappointment. After disappointment. 

He pulled away, breaking off with a quiet gasp. “Did you mean what you said?” he asked.

“What?” She had said a lot of things. And her brain was a little bit scrambled from the kiss. 

“You told me to…” He trailed off, flushing. Then, like he was about to face a monster, she saw him swallow, square his shoulders, and look her in the eye again. “About fucking you.” 

She blinked. “What?” And this wasn’t happening. She could not be interpreting this correctly. Percy Jackson, hero of Olympus, greatest demigod alive, who could have any mortal and likely any immortal woman he wanted–Percy Jackson, who was going to die in just over a month, on his twenty-first birthday–was not asking her this. 

“You told me to fuck you,” he said, unflinching, having apparently gathered his strength. “Do you mean it?”

There had to be a way to save face with this. To not come off as one of his little groupies. To not set herself up for the inevitable heartbreak at the end of the summer. 

She could deflect quickly, accuse him of spending too much time at camp if he didn’t know a simple figure of speech. Make a joke about him being too forward. Make a joke about his dad and him being too easy. Ask if he was just worried about dying a virgin. (A stupid thought. He was too handsome, too powerful, too good to not have girls around camp throwing themselves at him. She’d seen it. And he was kind, and sweet, and good. But he wasn’t that good.)

She was the smartest person in the camp. She could get out of this. She was the smartest person at camp. She knew it meant men like Percy Jackson didn’t want to sleep with her. 

But from behind his stormy gaze was something else–desperation, from a young man doomed to die. He needed this… and maybe she did, too. 

She nodded. “Yes. I do.” 

He blinked, like he was taking a moment to process what she had said. “Okay. Come on, then.”  Turning, he led her away from the arena, never letting go of her hand. 

Outside, darkness was settling in. She thought he might be taking her to the infirmary, which she thought was a little bit extra for what was a minor bruise at best, but he took them in a different direction. She could have pulled away, kicked him in the balls, or flipped him into the dirt again. But she didn’t. 

Together, they made their way in silence to the halo of cabins, their shadows stretching and melting across the grass in the last few rays of daylight. Annabeth’s slowly deteriorating rational brain couldn’t even spare a thought to worry about someone possibly seeing them–though, apparently, that wasn’t an issue at all tonight, as Camp was practically deserted, almost deafening in its silence. In lieu of chatter and sword clangs and laughter, there were owls, the gentle waves on the beach, and her heartbeat, loud enough to drown it all out. 

Still holding her hand, he led her to his cabin, making quick work of unlocking the door. Most of the cabins didn’t have locks, but she knew there had been a few… incidents… of kids hoping to filch a souvenir from the mysterious lair of Percy Jackson. After the third decoy pen had disappeared, Beck had pitched in to help. 

But a lair it was not. It looked exactly like it had the last time she’d been there–a pile of laundry here, scattered candy wrappers there, the Minotaur horn still proudly displayed on the wall, gleaming darkly in the low light. Annabeth hadn’t been inside n months, ever since the last inspection ended up with her stubbing her toe no less than three times on a couple of loose nails which Percy had sworn up and down hadn’t been there five minutes ago, but she would have remembered seeing the giant fountain which now stood in the corner of the room. So it must have been new. 

“Redecorated recently?” she said, intending it to be a little harsher than it came out. 

“Gift from dad,” he replied, closing the door behind them. 

“Oh.” She could have guessed. The water pouring out must have been warm, a spray of mist ringing the edge of the basin, but she shivered anyway. 

The hand which had held hers moved to her arm now, gently turning her to face him. The fight was over. The walk back to the cabins wasn’t exactly difficult. And yet, he was still breathing hard. Like he just couldn’t catch it. 

The cabin was warm, sweet but not suffocating, but for a moment, she was thrown back to a dark cavern in the heart of a volcano, searing heat all around her, his t-shirt in her grip, her mouth against his. Her pulse skipped a beat as he brought his hand up to her hair, threading his fingers through her curls, and then he kissed her again. 

But “kiss” wasn’t really strong enough to describe what he was doing to her. 

In one moment, he held her like she was made of glass, and in the next, he had her crushed to his chest, lips pressed against her own. His arm had snaked around her waist, firm like iron, and somehow he had managed to slip his even firmer thigh between her own.

Wiggling a hand between their bodies, she gripped his shoulder, using the leverage to pull her mouth away, catching her breath. “Well,” she chuckled, a little light-headed, “someone’s excited–”

He cut her off, capturing her lips again, pulling her even tighter to him. His mouth felt hotter than any volcano. The hand in her hair pulled, ever so slightly, a calculated move to open her mouth so he could properly plunder it with his tongue. Clever. She didn’t think he’d had it in him. 

She could appreciate a good strategy. But she wouldn’t be taken down so quickly. 

The hand in her hair drifted sideways, gently turning her head so he could move his attack to her neck. And as she stood there, wrapped up in his embrace, she realized that she had made a grave miscalculation. 

Percy Jackson was not, apparently, worried he would die a virgin. He knew exactly what he was doing. Even when he pulled back, cradling her jaw, his thigh between hers the only thing keeping her from following. “Tell me again,” he said. “One more time.”

She blinked, uncomprehendingly. “Excuse me?” 

“Do you want to do this?” 

“You’re really asking that with your knee on my crotch?” 

At least he had the decency to blush, peach dusting the tips of his ears. “It’s like with the fighting. I’m asking because I’ve been told I can get a little… intense.” 

A sickly feeling went through her stomach, sharp as a knife. “By who?” 

Stone-faced, he looked away, his jaw snapping shut. 

Names and faces of potential culprits flashed through her mind: Drew, Katie, Miranda. All potential candidates. But if they had managed to bag Percy Jackson, everyone at camp would have heard about it before breakfast. There was Rachel, obviously, even if she didn’t want to admit it. But if it had been her, he would have been more embarrassed. He knew how Annabeth felt about her. 

Then she remembered–he had been missing for a month after he exploded the mountain. Lost beyond the reach of mortals. And when he had returned, he was different. Older, somehow, and maybe sadder. Like something had been lost. 

He released her, and she shivered at the sudden touch of air against her skin. “Go ahead and hop in the shower,” he said. “I’ll lock up and join you in a minute.” 

“Shower?” 

He raised an eyebrow. “We are a little smelly from earlier.” 

On cue, the stench of cooling sweat hit her all at once, and she blushed. 

Percy snorted, then kissed her cheek. “Go on,” he said. “I’ll just be a second.” And off he went, picking up a spare shirt and a couple of candy wrappers. How thoughtful of him. 

Showering was thoughtful, too, but it also seemed pretty silly to her. Like, they were only going to get sweatier in just a little bit, so what was even the point? 

Still, she had to admit, it was a nice shower. She was always fighting with her cabin mates for shower times, and they had instituted a strict, five-minute limit on water usage. Perks of living by yourself, she supposed–unlimited access to the bathroom. 

And perks of living in Cabin Three, apparently–the shower turned on immediately, a wave of gentle, consistent pressure which already started pumping out warm water. Had he paid his cyclops brother to gut the plumbing and redo the whole thing? 

Spoiled, supercilious ass.

Shoes and socks kicked off and haphazardly discarded in the corner, she stripped off her camp shirt and shorts, piling them on top of the closed toilet seat, before hesitating as she went to remove her bra. Which was stupid. How was she supposed to shower and have sex with someone while wearing her underwear? And yet, she couldn’t bring herself to take it off, her fingers stayed by some invisible force as they rested on the straps. On the other side of the wall, she could hear Percy humming to himself, tuneless, his footsteps soft against the wooden floor. 

She was being stupid. 

She swallowed her pride, and shucked off her bra and underwear, laying them gently across the rest of her clothes. 

The water ran hot, pleasantly so, steam filling the bathroom and fogging the shower. Shaking out her hair from its wispy, half-undone ponytail, she decided against letting it run free, putting it back up in a bun instead. She still had a day or two left in her shampoo rotation, no need to mess with it now. 

She sighed as she stepped in, the water pummeling her stiff shoulders, forcing them to relax, and she considered the merits of using what she presumed to be Percy’s soap, which rested on the corner shelf. Picking it up the bar, she sniffed it, carefully. Instead of gross boy smell, she got whiffs of salt, lavender, and sandalwood. It was nice. 

“You can use my soap if you want.” 

Only her many years of battle training kept her from jumping, slipping on the wet floor, and banging her head on the wall as she went down. As it was, she only flinched–barely–whipping her head around to glare at him. 

Of course, her carefully constructed insult withered away in her mouth as she got her first look at his naked body. His perfectly formed, perfectly shaped body. Fuck. Look at him. What the fuck. 

His lips twitched, like he was trying not to smile. For a moment, she was stunned. When was the last time she had seen him without a scowl? “Can I come in?” 

“S–” she coughed, dryly, and he raised an eyebrow. Cracking her head open might have been preferable. “Sure. Yeah. Your shower.” 

And he slipped into the shower with her. 

“May I?” he said, holding his hand out. 

She stared, uncomprehending, until he flicked his eyes to the soap. Wordlessly, she handed it over. 

“Turn around,” he murmured. “I’ll do your back.” 

And wordlessly, she did. 

His hands were the same temperature as the water, but she still flinched as he put them on her, one on her shoulder and one on her hip. “Easy,” he said, and she hated the way his tone made her flush. 

Slowly, carefully, he began to wash her with his soap. His hands skimmed over her skin, hypnotic, and despite her best efforts, she relaxed even further. She didn’t even jump when he stepped closer to her, his warm breath softly puffing against her neck, then the press of his lips to her ear even softer. She sighed, and he hummed, kissing the spot again. 

Annabeth stood there, submitting to Percy’s attentions, and her nerves slipped away with the water. It wasn’t very long until she was fully leaning into him, her back pressed right up against his firm chest, his hands wandering over her hips and thighs and stomach. Distantly, she recognized the brilliance of the soap trick–it was an easy way for him to get his hands on her, and boy was it working. 

And boy was she not bothered by it.

“So,” she asked, after a while, “is this a thing for you?”

He hummed, a wordless question. 

“Washing people. Is it a kink?” 

He snorted. “Hardly. We’re just sweaty.” 

“So it’s the shower, then.” 

This time, he actually laughed. “I’m not a shower sex person, no.” 

She turned her head to look at him, frowning. “Seriously?” 

Shrugging, he drew the bar of soap behind her ear, and she had to clench her teeth to stop herself from moaning. “Most of my previous partners aren’t much for showering.”

Wait, what? “Are you sneaking off to some hippy commune on off days?” She couldn’t help but ask.

“Nah, too much effort. The lake’s right there.” 

“...You’ve lost me.” 

He shot her a look, slanted, eyebrow raised.

She frowned, mind racing. He hadn’t slept with anyone from camp. He didn’t go off into the mortal world. The lake was right there. Who would… Oh. “The naiads? Really?” 

“Who else am I going to hook up with here? If I slept with another camper, everyone would hear about it by breakfast the next morning.” 

And yet, here she was, in the shower of Cabin Three. Clearly, he didn’t mind the gossip if it was about her. Heat pooled in her stomach, zipping through her veins. 

“I guess that makes sense,” she said, turning back to face forward. She couldn’t look at his bare chest for too long without getting weak in the knees. She couldn’t think about his perfect body pressed up against the inhumanly beautiful water spirits without wanting to be sick. “They always were incorrigible flirts.” 

“Yeah, well.” His hand now clean, he began wiping the soap off her body, taking care to cover every dip and curve. “I don’t really think it was me they were interested in.” 

She swallowed, her stomach twinging unpleasantly. 

The naiads were incorrigible flirts, with everyone, but they were especially aggressive with Percy. Even when he was a boy, she would always spy them blowing him kisses from under the water, or spot them leaving him little gifts of braided duckweed crowns outside his cabin, or at his table in the dining pavilion. That a flirtation might escalate to something… more… didn’t exactly surprise her. 

But it did piss her off. 

And the thought of Percy, handsome, kind Percy, in the hands of an inhumanly beautiful spirit… well that just pissed her off more. 

Lost in her thoughts and the feeling of his hands, it took her a minute to put together just what his fingers were tracking on her stomach, which twinged again, for an entirely different reason. 

“What’s wrong?” Percy asked. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” she ground out, cheeks hot. “It’s nothing.” 

She felt his breathing, measured his calm, and could almost hear his incredulity when he asked, “You’re not ashamed of your scars, are you?” 

“Well…” 

Annabeth could almost picture the furrow in his brow as he parsed her words. She could turn around to see it, too, if she wanted, but she found herself frozen in place, held still by the trace of his fingertips over the white, jagged lines which hadn’t come from a weapon or claw. 

“The stretch marks?” he asked, after a moment. “Seriously?” 

“You literally just told me that you like to hook up with the naiads,” she grumbled, her attempt at crossing her arms aborted by the fact that they were trapped under Percy’s. “Excuse me for being a normal girl with body issues.” 

“What for?” 

She turned back to look at him. His face was just as she had pictured it. “Seriously?” she echoed. 

“Seriously. You’re…” He trailed off, still frowning, but she could see the wheels turning in his head. At least he was thinking about what to say, rather than just blurting out some silly, basic, uninspired ‘beautiful’ and calling it a day. 

When he didn’t follow up, she wondered if he had something critical to say instead.

But no, he only turned her around, pressing her up against him once again. Cupping her face, he leaned down, pressing another deep kiss into her, and she couldn’t help but lean into it, too, wrapping her arms about his neck, standing up on her toes. His hands, now free to roam, covered as much ground as they could, stroking her neck, her back, her sides, and lower, and lower. Warm hands moved from her shoulder blades to her ass, cupping the swell of it, holding her there. Waiting. 

For what? Should she jump into his arms? She wouldn’t necessarily mind that. Was he an “up against the wall” kind of guy? How would that have worked underwater, anyway? 

He broke away from her mouth, panting, and he gasped, “You think too much.” 

Without realizing it, she had been rendered breathless as well. Too well, maybe. She wasn’t thinking at all, at the moment. “What?”

“I can feel your brain working.” He kissed her again, one hand traveling back up to her hip, and she actually whimpered into his mouth. “It’s one of my favorite things about you.” 

Ah. “So I’m all brains, no beauty, then?” 

He pulled back, frowning again. “That’s not what I meant.” 

“It’s not exactly an insult,” she said, leaning up for another kiss. And it wasn’t. The long-simmering tensions between Six and Ten were common knowledge. Athena’s children prioritized one over the other, and it wasn’t the one that would put her in league with the pretty water spirits. 

He let her, but not for very long. “You’re both.”

“It’s really okay–” 

“It’s really not.” He kissed her this time, and hard. Harder than before, Her toes curled, and suddenly she was very grateful for the hand on her ass which didn’t let her fall. “You’ve always been both.” 

Her response was quashed by his tongue in her mouth, swallowed up by the nip of his teeth on her lips, snuffed out by the squeeze of his hand on her hip. 

“You,” kiss, bite, gasp, “are,” he moved to her jaw, then her neck, then her shoulder, planting hot kisses on each inch of skin, hotter than the water which pooled around their feet, “beautiful.” 

“Okay,” she said, fighting through the moan which threatened to burst from her chest, “now you’re laying it on a bit thick.” 

His only response was to drag his teeth across her jugular, soothing the trail of fire with his tongue. He kissed across the line of her collarbone, his lips pressing hot burns into her skin, and she shuddered as he reached her sternum. His hands traveled up her sides, but she had no time to mourn the loss, especially as his fingers came to rest just beneath her breasts. 

Flicking his eyes, wine-dark, up to hers, he rested his mouth just above her skin, one eyebrow raised, a silent question, seeking confirmation. Even the hot puffs of air over her chest were enough to make her tremble, and she had to bite her tongue to keep her eyes from fluttering closed. 

“Seriously,” she said, latching onto the last bits of sanity she had left, “you’ve already got me naked in your shower. You don’t have to flatter me into your bed. I know I’m not as hot as your immortal harem, it’s fine.” 

It was. And she was almost comfortable with that. She might have been, if it were all a question of abstractions, and not the knowledge that whatever sweet words he whispered, Percy Jackson would, inevitably, compare her to them. She might have been, if she could ever hope to measure up to them. 

Annabeth was only a mortal. How could she ever compare to such inhuman beauty? 

“Stop that.” His thumbs, ever so slightly, tilted up towards her breasts. 

“Stop what?” 

“Comparing yourself to them.” Lowering his head, his eyes never left hers, as deep and inexorable as a whirlpool. “Especially when this is so much better.” 

And he brought down his lips and teeth around a nipple. 

She jumped–into him, and he smirked. 

He kept her pinned there for a while, groping and grasping at her, and all the while, he feasted himself upon her. There was no other word for it. He covered every inch of skin with his mouth, moving from breast to breast and shoulder to shoulder, dragging his tongue over her, hot enough to burn. She let her head fall back, making room for his hungry mouth which peppered kisses up and down her neck.

So close to him, she felt his dark chuckle vibrate into her bones, skittering down her spine, scratching that most perfect itch, and she groaned, her hips stuttering as she faltered. Thank the gods for his leg, her shaking knees only stabilized by the thrust of his firm thigh between hers. He brought his hands around, roughly grasping her other breast, and she nearly jumped again. “W–what–” A squeeze, hot and hungry, and her thighs trembled. “What are you talking about?” 

In lieu of an answer, he bit her again. His teeth clamped over the pulse point in her neck, and he sucked. Hard. 

Someone should have informed Annabeth’s body that the neck wasn’t an erogenous zone, but it clearly hadn’t gotten the message–with every suck, every nip, every burning press of his lips, the ache between her legs only grew hotter and hotter. She clutched him to her, digging her fingers into the muscle of his shoulder, and felt his laugh all the way into her blood. 

Eventually, he released her, with one final swipe of his tongue across the newly growing bruise. “Gods,” he hissed, staring at her neck. “Look at you.” 

She swallowed, feeling the throb of her broken skin almost inside of her. A good, omen, hopefully. 

“Your neck.” He dipped down to kiss it again, before moving south. “Your skin.” His hand ghosted beneath the swell of her breast, fingertips leaving burning trails. “Look.” 

She did. She couldn’t not. 

The hot steam of the shower had turned her skin pink. Old scar tissue, years of mostly victorious battles, criss-crossed her body, the lines now nearly white. Percy traced them with his fingers, kissed his way across the map of her body, from breast to stomach to hips. “Perfect,” he murmured, getting down on his knees. 

Flushing, as hot as the water, Annabeth looked up at the ceiling, lip between her teeth. She couldn’t look at him. Not like that. Not with his eyes shining, dark and hungry. Not with the way his hands cradled her hips, firmly but gently. 

And then, he smacked her ass. 

She yelped, hopping up onto her toes. “The hell–!”

“I’ve wanted to do that forever,” he said, that slanted grin making her melt. “I always wondered what color you’d turn if I spanked you.” He flicked his gaze up at her, eyes so blown out they were nearly black, and he smacked her again. And again. “Oh yeah,” he grinned. “That’s a nice red.” 

Presumably, her face was just as red as her ass was now. “Good for you.” 

Good for her, too. 

“Annabeth,” he called from below. “Look at me.” 

Her eyes fluttered open, and she did. He knelt before her, and she saw his hands along her thighs, his mouth parted, lips and tongue wet–and his cock. Hard. Red. Painfully at attention.

“You don’t know how much I thought about you,” he murmured, taking one leg and draping it over his shoulder. “How I used to dream about you.” He pressed a kiss to her thigh, and Annabeth, embarrassingly, moaned, a long, deep, drawn-out thing, which only served to make him grin. “About this.” 

It was impossible to mistake his intentions here. He had telegraphed it every step of the way. And yet, even with him on his knees, his mouth between her legs, and hunger in his eyes, it still surprised her when he put his tongue to her cunt. 

She gripped his hair, spine bending, and felt his lips curve against her skin. 

Okay. Definitely not a virgin. 

Hot breath puffed against her thigh, and he dragged the flat of his tongue over her folds, wet, slow, and obscene, over and over again, so loud she could hear it, even over the roar of the shower. One hand came up to brace her against him, splayed out over the small of her back, while the other dug crescents into her skin, little sparks stoking the fire ever hotter. 

Annabeth had given head maybe once or twice, but she’d never gotten it. She’d endured a few finger fumbles from less-than-skilled practitioners in the heat of the moment, and decided that she didn’t want their faces anywhere near her vagina. And to hear it from the girls around camp, a lot of guys, both mortal and demigod, weren’t exactly enthusiastic about the whole cunnilingus thing. 

Not so with Percy. He knelt beneath her, sturdy as a statue, his onslaught against her showing no signs of stopping. Before long, he had abandoned the flat of his tongue, trading wide coverage for a more concentrated area of attack. As smoothly as he used his sword, he slid his tongue between the folds of her cunt, the sharp edge opening her up, little by little, the point flickering along her clit, sending tiny shocks all up into her. 

Blood roared in her ears, fighting with the heavy spray of water, the wet smack of his lips, the rhythmic grunts of pleasure she only realized came from her when he pulled back, grinning up at her, and said only one word: “Louder.” 

Suddenly she was very grateful for the sounds of the shower spray. 

She was even more grateful when he moved from merely licking along the seam of her cunt to sticking his tongue right inside it. A moan broke through her throat, punching out of her almost painfully, and she curled over Percy’s head, gripping his hair even tighter, which only had the added effect of pushing her hips further into his mouth. 

Seizing on the sudden change in her center of gravity, he readjusted her leg to put more weight on his shoulder, freeing up the hand on her back for a much more important task–slipping his finger inside of her. 

“Fuck,” she moaned, clenching around the thick slide of it. “Percy.” 

His smirk burned against her thigh, and he pulled her even closer, locking her into his embrace, lips and tongue and teeth and hand sending her ever closer towards the edge at an alarming rate. Annabeth had never gotten so close to orgasm with anyone so quickly before in her life. 

Hell, she’d never gotten so close to orgasm so quickly, period. 

She wanted to tell him to stop, or slow down. If this was to be their only night together, then she wanted to enjoy it, not fumble through as quickly as possible. Rhythmically, she flexed her fingers in his thick hair, attempting to hold on to the few functional brain cells she had so she could tell him something fun and sexy, like, Why the rush, or It’s not a race, until he pressed the mound of his palm up against her clit, and her brain shorted out entirely. 

And when he licked it, wrapping his lips around and sucking, it was all over. 

She came, hard, curling over his head, moaning so wantonly it would make Eros blush. If Percy hadn’t been beneath her, holding her trembling body, she might have fallen over entirely. She must have missed a few seconds, because suddenly, Percy had slithered out from under her, and had gathered her up in his arms again, kissing her so fiercely she could taste herself on him. 

“Annabeth,” he moaned, his breath as hot as his hands. She could feel him against her, as hard as bronze. 

She would have responded, if he hadn’t rendered her completely useless. Her tongue felt numb in her mouth, battered by his, a slick, wet, heavy onslaught that she never wanted to end. A siege she desperately hoped would never be broken. 

Eventually, though, after she had been kissed thoroughly stupid, he let up, pulling back more than two inches away from her face. “Okay?” he ground out, his voice rough and gravelly, wrecked like he was the one who had been doing the screaming. 

“Hng,” she responded, eloquently. 

It was only the smallest shred of lingering pride which let her walk out of that shower on her own two feet, rather than have Percy carry her to his bed, like she was some kind of blushing bride. The thought brought her, a bit cruelly, back into herself, and she shivered in a way that had nothing to do with the sudden absence of the warm water as Percy shut off the shower. “Okay?” he asked again, his hand on her waist, and she nodded, swallowing at the feel of gooseflesh which ran through her body. 

She nodded, running her tongue over her lips, a pleasant spark bursting inside her as she watched his eyes track it. “I thought,” she said, the taunt lightly undercut by the audible sigh in her voice, “that you were going to fuck me.” 

His eyes darkened, trench-deep, and he moved his hand to entwine it with hers, entirely too gentle for the way he growled out his next words: “If you wanted a good fucking, all you had to do was ask.” 

“Isn’t that why you dragged me into your lair?” she asked, leading him to the bed. She needed to sit down or her legs might give out. “To give me a good fucking?” 

Before she could sit down, though, he pulled her to him again, fastening his lips to her neck. “I think,” he whispered into her skin, “that you should ask me for it.” 

“What?” 

“You heard me.” And then he nipped at her jugular, lightly, and she gasped, twitching in his arms. “Ask me to fuck you.” 

“Percy–” she tried, half-heartedly, to squirm out of his embrace, but he wouldn’t budge. 

“Mm?” He licked her ear, and she squeaked. “What was that?” 

Annabeth pushed at his chest. 

In response, he blew a raspberry on her. 

Shrieking, she managed to twist her way out of his arms, and shoved him lightly onto the bed. Percy made it easier, laughing too hard to hold onto her. “Asshole.” 

He leaned back, resting on his elbows, a smooth, fluid motion, the dim lights of his cabin casting his chest and stomach in sinful shadow. “Aw, let me have my fun,” he chuckled. “First time I tried that on a naiad, she thought it was some kind of mysterious, human wedding rite.” 

Something in Annabeth’s chest grew hot. She wasn’t sure what was worse–the reminder that Percy had slept with the naiads, the idea that he had tried something human with them and they had misunderstood it, or the use of the w-word. Wedding. She swallowed around the lump in her throat. “How would you like it if someone sprang that on you?” 

He grinned, sharklike. “I think I’d like that very much.” 

It hit her, then, what position they’d ended up in. Sprawled out before her, Percy had let his legs fall open, a twitch away from bracketing her between them. And there, staring her in the face, was his cock. Hard. Pointed at her. 

She swallowed, her mouth filling with saliva. Which was a new experience. 

Nothing about her previous sexual encounters had ever inspired her to try fellatio before. She’d given a couple of handjobs, sure, but this was uncharted territory. In theory, the idea had always sounded… decidedly unappealing. Penises were gross, as were often the guys attached to them.

But there was Percy’s cock. It didn’t look gross at all. 

It looked perfect, and purple, and so, so fucking pretty.

Only the creak of her knees as she knelt down was able to snap her out of her trance. She wasn’t exactly the most graceful person–she guessed she should be thankful she had managed to get down here without collapsing in an embarrassing heap. She tried not to picture the naiads, creatures of otherworldly grace and poise, slithering down to kneel before their lord’s son. 

And then she realized his cock was at eye-level, and all other thoughts went out the window. 

“Hey.” Percy’s hand was on her cheek, and he tilted her face towards him. His eyes were soft as he looked at her, the heat of the moment not quite as intense as before. “You don’t have to,” he said, even as his fingers skated beneath her chin. His thumb hovered before her lips, twitching. 

“You don’t want me to?” She asked. Experimentally, she flicked out her tongue, making contact. 

“I… don’t know how to answer that question,” he said, hoarse. 

“You don’t?” She looked again to his cock, and breathed on his thumb, her breath as hot and wet as she could make it. 

It twitched. He hissed, like he had been shocked. 

In response, she laughed, deep in her throat. “Seems like you just did.” 

And then, in what might have been the most brazen thing she had ever done, including inviting the son of Poseidon to fuck her out of nowhere, she reached forward, and took his thumb into her mouth. She drew her tongue against the skin, licking the clean taste of him, and hollowed her cheeks in an exaggerated suck. 

Spots of red appeared on his cheeks, and his jaw dropped open. “Gods,” he growled, a tone of voice she had never heard out of his mouth before. Something deep inside her pulsed, and she decided to do it again. 

“Gods,” he said again, eyes as black as a sea storm. 

Dragging her tongue along the line of his thumb, she let her eyes flutter close, lips curling as she heard him groan, wrecked like a ship on shore. 

“Gods,” he said a third time, his fingers delicately cradling her face, and a thrill went through her. “The fucking mouth on you.”

Releasing his thumb with an obscene pop, she pressed forward, ready to put that mouth to use. And she wanted to. She wanted to hear her name as it spilled from his lips, in choked, bitten-off gasps, or long, loud moans. She wanted to send his eyes rolling, to have him tangle his fingers in her hair, bending over her as she brought him to ever higher heights. She wanted to make him feel as amazing, as wanted, as he did for her. 

But he had other ideas, evidently. “C’mere,” he murmured, pulling her back up to him. He wasted no time, kissing her senseless, occupying her mouth in other ways. Hungry hands gripped at her hips, her tits, her chin and her cheeks, and she just let it all happen. 

Well, almost. “I thought,” she said, panting just a little, “you wanted me to–”

He cut her off with a kiss. “Not tonight,” he said, softly, before going back for more. 

But she pulled back, confused. “What do you mean?” Tonight was all they had. He was going to die soon. She’d never get the chance to suck his dick if not tonight. She’d never get the chance to do anything else with him if not tonight.

Slowly, achingly tender, he tucked a curl behind her ear, all passion deserting him for the moment. “I don’t…” he swallowed, then, suddenly shy, before bringing her in closer, enveloping her in an embrace. 

After a second of shock, she returned it, wrapping her arms around him. Even with a girl naked and in his lap, perched on top of his hard cock, nevertheless he held her far more gently than she ever imagined he could be capable of. He buried his nose in her neck, his breath hot against her skin, and if she hadn’t been so close, she never would have heard his next words. 

“I don’t want you like that,” he said, barely audible. 

She was proud of how little her voice betrayed the sudden, cold shock that came over her, like she had been dumped in the lake. “Oh.” 

“No, I mean–” He shook his head, nose against her skin. “Not at my feet.” 

Not at–...ah. Of course. The naiads. 

I don’t really think it was me they were interested in.

She pressed her lips to his hair, already bone dry even after their shower. “Okay,” she promised. “Okay, I won’t.” 

He nodded into her neck, and just held her for a little while longer. 

“Besides,” he said, after a moment. “I like this just fine.” 

She tilted her head back, giving him more access. “Like what?” 

“You.” Kiss. “Here.” Another, lower on her neck. “Smelling like me.” 

Cheeks red, she let him pepper kisses all over her skin, fingertips tapping scattered rhythms against his shoulders. Any time she tried to pull away, he dug his fingers in deeper, hands tightening about her waist, a quick nip to her neck to keep her in place, and she just let him. Let him explore her body like the seas they sailed through and the labyrinths they’d traversed together. His hands traced a path from top to bottom, from neck to spine to stomach to clit, as sure and confident as though he had Ariadne’s thread, and she couldn’t help but sigh at every burning touch and scorching kiss. With every stroke and every bite, he pulled a moan from her, playing her as skillfully as any musician. 

“That’s it,” he growled, leaning down to kiss between her breasts. “Don’t hold back–I want to hear your moans.” 

Oh, he did, did he? 

Tipping her head back so she could look down her nose at him, she met his eyes, and shut her jaw with an audible clack. 

He raised an eyebrow at her. 

Annabeth raised hers back, a silent challenge.

“Oh, we’re being shy now, are we? What happened to the girl who basically fellated my thumb?” He bent his head towards her breast, grazing his teeth across the skin, running his tongue around her nipple. 

She had to chew on her lips to keep her mouth shut. A squeak still managed to escape, but he had just given a sharp bite to her nipple, so she thought that was allowed. Soothed by the swipe of a tongue, Annabeth swallowed her moans as best she could, which meant that it had to come out in other ways. She tightened her legs around his, squirming on top of his lap, gratified by the hiss that came from beneath. 

Grinning, Percy took up the cause with vigor, slipping his fingers inside of her. 

Was she so turned on it hurt? Yes. Was it getting harder and harder to keep her noises in? Absolutely. But she wasn’t going to sit there and just take what he was giving her. She wasn’t one of the simpering naiads who only treated him as an extension of his father. 

She was Annabeth, and she refused to make it easy for him. 

And judging from the gleeful glint in his eyes, he was certainly enjoying it. 

In one smooth motion, he turned them over, laying her down on his bed. She grabbed him before he could pull back, bringing him down with her for another blisteringly hot kiss, and he went with no resistance to speak of. Not content to confine her hands to his hair, she let them wander all over the expanse of his body, paying him back in kind as much as she could. His arms, his shoulders, his back, his ass–oh dear gods, his ass, how in any of the nine realms could anyone have an ass that perfect–until eventually, she reached his cock, which jumped as she wrapped her fingers around it, giving it a few slow, languid pumps. In her arms, he shuddered, moaning so deep in his chest she felt it vibrate through her body. He shifted, and his hips accidentally rocked up against hers in the most perfect angle. 

It was enough to break her self-imposed silence, and she gasped, sharp and broken. 

When he did it again, she realized it was no accident. 

“You motherf–”

Percy kissed the curse out of her mouth, leaving her breathless. Like a man possessed, he threw himself back down onto her body, kissing and licking and sucking and touching a path towards her cunt, and she was almost paralyzed at the pleasure of it all. 

When he reached her stomach, she finally had collected enough oxygen to ask, “So, how am I doing?” 

He lifted his head, blinking at her uncomprehendingly. “Huh?” 

“In bed. How am I doing? How do I measure up to the nai–”

A bite, and she gasped. “What did I say about comparing yourself to them?” he asked, and followed it up with another bite, this time on her thigh. “It's really not fair to them.”

“What?” she gasped. She almost hadn’t heard him over the ringing in her ears.  

He pulled back, and looked up at her. And she felt more then watched as one of his sword calloused fingers moved to trace along her knee, where she had a scar. It wasn’t a battle scar. Not even from training. When she had been little, she’d fallen down while ice skating and ended up cutting her knee on a branch resting on the lake. 

“Have you ever had sex with a nature spirit?” 

She blinked at him, the gears furiously turning in her head at this break in sensation. Annabeth was a person who could count her sexual experiences on one hand, and reached a peak exactly none of those times. It was fairly well known that water and plant spirits tended towards women, especially around camp. Though she might have been closer to bi than straight, Percy Jackson didn’t know that. She didn’t exactly want to share all of this with him, either. So she shook her head. 

He sat a little further back, which was not really the action she wanted him to do, but she was more desperate for him to explain than she was to complain. 

“They’re so perfect,” was the only answer he gave her, looking at her face, and then back at the scar on her knee, brushing it with his fingers, and then petting a little lower down her leg. 

With an unsexy twist to her stomach, she realized he was looking at the leg hair. “Sorry.” 

He looked up at her again, frowning, before placing a kiss on the scar. “You’re not listening,” he said again. “They’re perfect. They’re some sort of weird ideal. Everything is smooth and perfect, like it was carved from marble based on some platonic ideal of a woman.”

“Because that’s so reassuring.” 

Percy placed another kiss on her thigh. “And fucking marble is like fucking anything platonically.” He sighed, just the barest shade of world-weariness peeking out from behind his careful facade. “There's nothing there. Not really. No flaw. No evidence of fighting. No humanity.” He grasped at her thigh, where another set of stretch marks lay. “They can't have anything like this. Because they can’t grow and change. “ He smirked at her, and the world settled back into balance a little. “Their asses certainly don’t turn red when I give them a good smack.” 

You could probably power a small country with the heat coming off her face. She should talk to Jake about developing a new, renewable energy source out of this. But still, something nagged at her. 

Apparently, he could tell. “What’s wrong?” he asked, frowning.

“I know you’ve…” She swallowed around the sudden lump in her throat, blocking the words from coming out. 

He sat back on his haunches, hands gently resting above her knees. “What is it?” 

“I’m…” 

Some kind of understanding flickered in his eyes, and he pulled his hands back. “Okay. We don’t have to do anything–” 

“Percy.” She shot her hand out and grabbed his before he could get too far away. “That’s not what I want.” 

“Look, if you’re feeling weird about this, we can stop right now–” 

Shaking her vehemently, she tugged on his arm to bring him back to her, but he wouldn’t budge. “I’m not feeling weird, I promise. I mean,” she tilted her head, considering, “I am, but not about–about you.”  

He softened, just a hair. “Then what is it?” 

Sighing, she looked down at his hand, twining their fingers together. “You’ve done this a lot, right?” 

A pause. “Well, yeah. I mean, mostly with the naiads. But yeah. I’ve… done it a few times,” he said, sheepish. 

“Okay, well, I haven’t.”

His eyes widened. “Never?” 

“Not never,” she clarified. “Maybe once or twice. But never with someone I actually…” 

The air grew tense, like a wave about to hit. Percy spoke, hushed, like they were in a temple, instead of his bed. “Someone you actually…?” 

Swallowing again, she flicked her eyes back up to him. He was still, like a shark, poised and ready to strike. In the dim light, he looked even more handsome, his black hair thrown into disarray by her fingers, his lips swollen and kiss-bruised, his thumb gently stroking against her palm. 

“Someone I actually like,” she finished, barely more than a puff of hair. 

His eyes fluttered closed, and he bent over, laying his head on her stomach. “You don’t even know,” he said into her skin, voice strained almost to breaking. “You don’t even know what you do to me, do you?” 

Before she could even begin to parse what he had just said, he returned to his earlier task of learning her body with his mouth, but with a renewed vigor. Or maybe a new frenzy would be a better way to put it. He held her hips firmly with his hands, shoving them down every time she so much as twitched as he attacked her cunt with lips, teeth, and tongue, feasting on her like she was his last meal. Overcome by this sudden onslaught, she could do little more than hang on for dear life, fisting her hands in his sheets, and soon, she found herself racing perilously close to the edge again. 

“Per–” she gasped as he sucked on her, “Percy, I–” 

But he would not be stopped. Fastening his lips to her labia, he lavished stroke upon stroke upon her, his nose bumping up against her clit in a way that made stars burst in her eyes, and then, all of a sudden, she had tipped over the cliff. 

The cabins were supposed to be pretty soundproofed, but there was no way the whole camp didn’t just hear her scream like that. Hopefully they thought it was just a harpy or something. 

Panting, almost dizzy, she lay there, attempting to gather her bearings, while Percy kissed his way back up her body, stopping at every waymark he had left on her skin, each bite and nip and freckle, pulling her down from the heavens until she fell back into her body, trembling from the force of her orgasm. There was something in her ear, and it took her a few extra seconds to put together that Percy was speaking to her. 

“You’re so amazing, so beautiful, so hot,” he babbled, kissing up and down her neck, “you are the most amazing woman, I can’t believe I finally get to have this, gods, Annabeth–” 

Turning her head with only a little difficulty, she cut him off, her lips apparently proving too tempting for him to not kiss. 

She couldn’t stand hearing those words coming out of his mouth. Not from someone who, in just a month, would in all likelihood be–

His knuckles brushed over her sensitive clit, and she jumped, about to refuse, because she simply could not handle a third mind-bending fingering tonight, but he just grunted in apology. Instead of his hands, then, she felt the soft, smooth tip of his cock, bumping up against her opening. She shivered, breath stuttering in her chest. “Please,” she mumbled, “please, please, please–” 

He slipped in, a smooth, agonizing motion, which sent her eyes rolling into the back of her head. Her hands clutched at his shoulders, fingers digging into the skin, and it took her a moment to realize that the high, keening sound she heard was coming from her. 

His arms pulled her in even tighter, and with a sigh, he began to move. 

Annabeth had had sex before. Both times before had been lackluster, uninspiring events, where the guy had clearly learned all of his techniques from porn, jackhammering away at her vagina without really knowing what he was doing. She figured being with Percy, with his long and storied history, would probably make for a much more notable experience. But she was completely unprepared for just how much better it could be. 

He rocked her like the tide, a slow, steady, insistent movement which set her nerves sparking from top to bottom. Pleasure lapped at her from every side, washing over her in waves, while Percy’s body kept her anchored, one hand against her back, the other curling about her neck. She could feel as he dug his knees into the mattress, could feel the corded muscles in his thighs as he moved in her, traced the shifting muscles of his back with her fingertips, and she couldn’t help but let out a long, broken moan. “Percy,” she gasped, “I–I–oh–” 

He didn’t respond, only kissed the corner of her lips, open-mouthed and sloppy. Then he pulled away, and she almost whined at the loss of contact. 

“So, how is it?” He asked her, with barely more than a puff of air. 

“What?” She had no idea what he could mean. Why was he asking her questions at a time like this, if the answer was anything other than “more”?

He grinned. “Having sex with someone you actually like?”

She rolled her eyes. Or she would have, if he hadn’t given her a particularly satisfying thrust that made her legs twitch. It was hard to think straight, because, really, it was amazing, but she shot back anyway, “How is it having sex with someone actually human?”

“I told you,” he said, and his grin dropped, just a little, “you are so much better than a thousand naiads together could hope to be.” He let out a breath, and then grasped her torso, and with a force she definitely knew he had but hadn’t seen outside of the training grounds, rolled them over, leaving her on top. A position she’d never tried before. “And now,” he said, twirling a curl around his finger, “I want to see it from a different angle.”

Momentarily, she was overcome by the sudden shift in sensation. Under him, it hadn’t been bad, of course, but compared to the fingering of a lifetime, it hadn’t quite measured up as of yet. Now, she needed a second to get used to the feeling of him inside of her all over again. From this vantage point, he seemed bigger somehow, filling her every nook and cranny, the intensity crashing on her like a wave. 

Below her, he smirked, somehow reading her mind. “Good?”

Well, if he wanted to be like that, fine. She could wipe that stupid grin off his face. 

Her own face was bright red, she was sure, but she was determined not to lose this rematch. What was the point of core workouts and leg days anyways if she never put them to some use?

Gritting her teeth, she tightened her legs around him, pleased at the stutter in his breath. She rose up, hissing at the slick slide of his cock inside her, the drag of sparks which shot up through her spine, and her fingers trembled on his shoulders as she lowered herself back down. Then she did it again. And again. And again. Beneath her, Percy’s chest moved with the controlled force of his breath, his hands flexing on her hips. Biting her lip, she shifted forward an inch–and cried out as the new angle made it so he pressed up against a spot which made her eyes cross.

“Oh, gods,” he groaned, head thrown back. “Oh, fuck–Annabeth, gods.” 

She liked that. She liked that very much. 

And this, she thought as she began to ride him. She liked this very much, too. 

Over and over, she struck down on that spot inside her, and eventually, she couldn’t stay silent. Each thrust down startled a moan out of her, climbing higher and higher until you could practically keep time with it. Percy writhed below her, panting, his stomach flexing rhythmically, until he could no longer stand it and surged up, crushing her to his chest, and set about to fucking her. 

His cock stabbed up into her at the same, torturous pace, making her see stars, her moans swallowed up by the press of his mouth on hers. She could feel the muscles of his strong arms bulging, burning like brands across her back. Tearing his lips away, he kissed a meandering path to her ear, and asked, mumbling, “Is this–unh–is this good? Is this what you wanted?” 

“Yes,” she gasped, jolting as he nibbled on her earlobe. “Yes, Percy!” 

“Tell me.”

“Fuck, it’s so good–ah…” 

“Tell me you want me–please.” He kissed her jaw, slurring the word into her skin, the movement of his hips sloppier and sloppier.

There was no cockiness in his tone, no jokes. No self-satisfied smugness. Only desperation. A desperation to please her. 

“I–want–Percy–touch me–”

And like a seasoned sailor navigating the stars, his fingers found her clit–and she was done. 

Boneless, she flopped in his arms, her arms around his neck the only thing keeping her from toppling off him as he chased the last of his pleasure within her. With a broken, wrecked noise, he squeezed her impossibly tighter, his hips stuttering beneath her as he buried his face into her shoulder, gasping for air. He shook, his body seizing around her and in her, and she couldn’t help but echo his cry at it, the current of feeling dragging her back down into the depths. Submerged in it, surrounded by it, she clutched at his shoulders, riding the last lingering shockwaves of electric pleasure that skittered through her body. 

Slowly, agonizingly, he relaxed around her, a gradual release of pressure. But he didn’t release her, falling back instead with her still in his arms. 

“Damn.” She felt him more than heard him, a soft sigh which vibrated under his sternum and into her. “Damn.” 

She grunted in agreement. 

Time slipped away as she lay there, sprawled out on the bed of his body, resting her head on his chest, keeping the minutes only by the furious pounding of his heart against her ear as it slowed down, as they both came down from the skies together. Apparently unable to keep his hands off her even after sex, he twirled her hair around his finger, the gentle tug keeping her grounded. It could have been hours until she managed to scrape together the energy to raise her head to look at him. He was looking at her, a soft, shiny glow behind his eyes. “That was nice,” she said, hoarse. 

The corner of his lips quirked up. “Oh yeah? We should do this again sometime.” 

Laughter bubbled up out of her, and he followed suit, the movement jostling her body. “Ugh,” she winced, gently pulling off of him. “I’m going to feel that in the morning.” 

“In a good way or a bad way?” 

She flopped down beside him, sending him a grin. “I’ll let you decide.” 

“Come back,” he pouted. “I want to cuddle.” 

“Never would have pegged you for a cuddler.” She shifted into him with little hesitation, humming as his hands took up residence in her hair again. “Doesn’t that kind of ruin your heartbreaker reputation?” 

“I love cuddling.” He brushed his knee up against hers, sliding his arm beneath her head. “And I don’t get to nearly as often as I would like.” 

“Naiads aren’t big on post-coital snuggles?” The thought made her inexplicably happy. 

“Imagine trying to cuddle a person-shaped jellyfish.” 

She frowned. “Wriggly? Squishy?” 

“Hard to hold. The sea doesn’t like to be restrained, you know.” 

“Or the lake, in this case.” 

He huffed a laugh. “I guess.” 

She could have responded, but there wasn’t much she could say that wasn’t horribly rude to the water spirits, so she let them fall into companionable silence instead. And it was companionable. Percy gently carded his fingers through her hair, and she drew aimless patterns on his chest with her finger, lines and angles which slowly formed themselves into letters: alpha, nu, alpha, beta, epsilon–

Percy stilled beneath her. “Oh, shit.” 

“What? What is it?” 

He sat bolt upright, staring down at her. “You don’t…” he swallowed, color rising to his face. “You don’t happen to be on birth control, do you?” 

“...Excuse me?” 

Groaning, he fell back, hands over his face. “We didn’t use any protection.”

“...Oh, shit.” You know, she did feel damper than usual down there. 

Without thinking, she snaked a hand down, swiping a finger through herself, and brought it back up, observing. 

Yup. That was definitely semen. 

Well. 

She was pretty sure Will had some Plan B squirreled away somewhere in their stores. 

Suddenly, she was very aware of Percy looking at her. 

Studiously ignoring his gaze, she popped her finger in her mouth, licking it clean, and he made a noise like he had been stabbed. 

“Di immortales,” he wheezed. “You’re trying to kill me.” 

Pleasure stirred in her, purring like a cat, but she decided to ignore it. For now. “So, are you always this lax with protection with the naiads, too? Are we going to see an influx of little Percys in nine months?” 

“There better not be.” 

“Would a condom even work with a naiad?” she wondered aloud, more to herself than anything, but Percy shook his head. 

“It wouldn’t. But there won’t be any mini-mes running around.” 

“How do you know?” 

He gulped, audibly. “I, uh… I made them swear not to have my children.” 

Raising an eyebrow, she shot him a look. “You made them promise? Really?” Like that would do anything. Nature spirits were flighty and impulsive by nature. So kind of like demigods, really. 

“No, I mean…” His gaze turned up, suddenly very interested in the wooden ceiling beams. “I made them swear on the Styx.” 

“...Oh.” 

“Yeah. I didn’t–I didn’t want…” He trailed off. Annabeth’s mind rushed to fill in the blanks. The responsibility? The burden? The hope? “I didn’t want to leave someone behind. Who didn’t know their father.”

Annabeth couldn’t respond. Her heartbeats ticked by like seconds, counting down to his birthday. 

He coughed. “Um, yeah.” 

“Yeah.” 

“And–and also, I wouldn’t want them to use any potential kid of mine as a bargaining chip, either. You would not believe how complex undersea politics can get.”

A bargaining chip? “For what?”

He shrugged. “Power. Bragging rights. Marriage.”

Her brain short-circuited. “Is… that something you want?”

He looked at her for several long moments. “Not with a Naiad from the camp lake who settled for Poseidon’s son when she would rather fuck Poseidon instead.” He looked at her. And somehow there was more to it than when he had been inside her. “But I’m not opposed. To the concept of marriage. In general.”

She couldn’t–she couldn’t think about that. “Well, clearly that’s not what I’m here for.”

He raised a dark eyebrow, the edges of his devil-may-care smirk pulling on his lips. “Oh?”

“Come on,” she said, lightly shoving him. “You think I’d be interested in marrying you?” 

The words dropped between them, as heavy as a stone in water. 

She cleared her throat. “I mean, I didn’t fuck you to have your baby, either.” 

“Uh huh.” 

“I mean, I don’t want to fuck or marry your dad!”

“I think your mom would disown you if you did.” 

“Stop being a seaweed brain,” she said, “I’m trying to say something nice.”

“By all means.” He was smirking again. Right this second, maybe it wasn’t annoying, maybe it made him look roguish and handsome.

“I like you. And not because you're the son of Poseidon. But because you’re Percy Jackson.”

It was true that the power he held, the strength and skill, flowed from the same source as his father. But it wasn’t Percy’s ability to control the waves that enchanted her. It was that he had that power, and he used it. But he also helped little twelve year old campers with sword stances, and made messy evil eye charms in the arts and crafts tent to give to homesick kids. He could be both.

And that gentleness, that caring nature, was not something she saw reflected in Poseidon.

“Oh.” He said again, but he looked a little less cocksure, “So… what…”

“I mean… It's not like all that power isn’t hot. But lots of people have power. You know when to use it,” she said. “And when to be kind. Or take a step back.” Or let her have her say. Let her offer her opinion, and then take it into consideration. It was so much hotter than just having strength.

He grinned, slanted and shit-eating, even if it was a little shaky. “Hotter, really?”

Fuck, she hadn’t meant to say that part out loud.

“Really,” she said, trying to keep the embarrassment off her face. At this point, it was probably already too late, though.

Apparently satisfied, he let the topic drop, sparing her the humiliation of explaining herself further. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty tired, and it’s getting pretty late…” He trailed off, meaningfully.

Oh. Well. She supposed that was her cue. Sitting up, she swung her legs over the side, only for Percy to reach out and grab her hand. 

“Where are you going?” 

“To my cabin? You just said it was late–”

“I was trying to imply that you should stay. Here.” He turned those eyes on her, brimming with equal amounts hope and apprehension. “With me.” 

Oh. That was… “That’s against the rules,” she said, carefully. Guarded. Gauging.

“...Yeah.” His shoulders slumped almost imperceptibly. “Yeah, I guess it is.” 

Still. “...Maybe we could… meet up tomorrow? I mean,” she forced a laugh, “I still owe you a blowjob, right?” 

For a long, drawn out moment, he didn’t answer her, only rubbing his thumb against the side of her palm. And then, softly, muted, like he was speaking underwater, he said, “Right. Yeah. We can–we can meet up tomorrow.” 

He didn’t sound very confident. But he let her go all the same.

In short order, she had slipped into the bathroom, quickly re-dressing herself, and now lingered at the door to his cabin, wondering how best to say goodbye. It seemed as though he hadn’t moved at all, still lounging nude on his sheets, his perfect bronzed form exposed to the open air, arms drawn up and behind his head, his brooding gaze fixed firmly somewhere above him. “Well,” she said, entirely out of words. “Good night.” 

“Night.” 

She waited a heartbeat more, then slipped out the door, shutting it quietly behind her. 

They’d see each other tomorrow. They’d both agreed to it. 

If she had her way, they’d see each other every day for the rest of their lives. But they didn’t have the rest of their lives. She only had until the end of the war. Only the rest of his life.

Eyes suddenly hot, she swiped at them furiously, and began making her way back to her cabin. 

Tomorrow, then. She’d make tomorrow count. 

…And she would make sure to stop by the infirmary tomorrow morning, too.