#i started watching it during a really fucked up time

[writerunnamed]

note: This is something I've wanted to write for a while but I am well aware that not everyone will be into it. There are a few stories I want to tell that aren't the norm so I decided to start this nameless blog to tell them. I am not tagging anyone, if you find it then you find it. xo Joel(stepdad), significant age gap, female reader. 18+ legal, reader is 20 (warnings: pov sex, Joel spits on the 😸, boobie play, really inappropriate dirty talk, an unused sex toy [will make an appearance in another chapter], female masturbation, daddy kink, unfit parent) 5.6k word count

He takes up so much space, and it wasn’t just physically. He took up space emotionally, mentally. Mentally most of all. Your thoughts always drifted back to him. Cyclical. An elliptical pattern making him the top of every list you’d go through in your head. He seemed to know it too, in a stoic, quiet, largely unsettling way. Older, attractive men tended to do that. 

It started during that in-between time, when summer, losing your job, and having to move back home pushed you to figure out what the fuck you actually wanted to do with your life seemed to come together like the planets aligning. The precipice of a turning point, a ticking clock counting down the days until your childhood bedroom would be turned into a gym, or an office, or a guest bedroom. The lukewarm welcome from your mother would ice over and you’d really have to get your shit together. 

Your mother was what people who didn’t know her would call ‘a free spirit’, what you called her, was a fucking mess. 

Your earliest memories consist of having to remind her to buy milk or to pay the bill because the electricity had turned off while watching cartoons in front of the tiny, living room tv. You’d had to remind her, in not so many words, that she was the mother, and you were the child. 

To your friends, she was the cool mom. The party mom. Your house was the place to be because she didn’t ask questions, she left her cigarettes unattended and didn’t mind if a few went missing. She kept the bar cart stocked, even if there was nothing but flies in the cupboard and nothing but half-empty condiment bottles in the fridge. Your friends loved it. 

She flirted with the boys your age, she gave sex tips to the girls. 

You smiled when they congratulated you on having the cool mom, and when they all went home, you retreated and pretended to be happy. 

Joel settled her down. Met her in a bar and moved in quick. He came into the picture when you were fifteen and you were almost sure he’d be just like the rest of the lovers she’d taken over the years. You’d given the whole thing six months. Half a year for him to see what a fucking disaster she was. Six months to be a fucking creep, to cheat or get cheated on. 

The only differences you could clock at first were that he was self-employed, and marginally better looking than his predecessors.

He was firmer though, less malleable than the others she’d brought around, he seemed immune to her charms and that only inflamed her. It made her desperate for his approval and his attention. She would throw a tantrum, or play one of her mind games but he’d never rise to her bait. He was patient for the most part, until he hit his breaking point and his temper reared its head. A temper only she seemed to bring out in him. 

To you, it was pathetic. 

He didn’t try with you though, there was no flattery or strong hand, only a silent respect. In a sense, he treated you as the adult, and her as the child. It worked for you, if he’d expected you to call him dad he would have been laughed at mercilessly and he seemed to know this. 

The disturbing part was his respect and his healthy avoidance of you worked its own kind of magic. It made him an enigma, made you curious as to what he got out of the whole thing. A home, sure. A woman who was obsessed with him, yes. Sex–yes. You heard it enough for it to turn your stomach. By the sounds of it, he knew what he was doing.

The thought sickened the healthy part of your brain. The other part though, the part flooding your body with hormones, making it come to life with curiously intense sexual feelings, that part wanted to know what it was he was so good at. How could he pull those sounds out of anyone? It was easier to imagine him with some faceless woman. 

It was shameful to imagine yourself. 

The thought–although enough to fuel a desperate journey of self-exploration–always filled you with an insurmountable guilt. 

For those first few years you could barely look at him. Your mother took it as a healthy dose of teenage rebellion. That only aggravated you more. She never asked questions, never dug to see what the cause of your obvious distaste for her partner was about and so again, you retreated. He, however, kept to the outs of your path. He followed your lead, he let you control any and every part of all of your interactions. He didn’t ask questions. He kept the lights on. He kept the fridge full. 

He burrowed his way in, whether you liked it or not. 

When you turned eighteen, you moved out. He helped, did his ‘fatherly’ duties and moved you into the apartment, he urged your mother to take you on an extensive grocery trip, spoke to your landlord about the safety of the building. You supposed you should have been grateful, you should have said thank you, given him some sort of acknowledgement that you appreciated his help but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Instead you said your mumbling goodbyes, and promptly closed the door on them. Neither of them complained. 

The euphoria of venturing out on your own had lost its shine depressingly quick. A string of chronically unserious boyfriends came and went, the rent climbed higher than you could keep up with, and while already living paycheck to paycheck, you lost your job. Your cellphone had taken the brunt of your frustration at having to call your mother, begging her to let you come back home while you got back on your feet a little more than two years after you’d left. 

Your teeth gnawed at your lips, your fingernails dug into the skin around your cuticles in the attempt to keep your voice sweet and pleading, in the end it was his voice that you’d heard in the background, telling–no, commanding her to say yes. That he would be your champion twisted at your insides. Maybe a small, healthy part of you hoped he’d put up a fight, tell you that you were too old to be coming back home and that you had to figure it out on your own like an adult. 

A healthy part of you hoped that he’d save you again, only from yourself. Hanging up with a heavy, resigned sigh, you set about starting the trek home, ignoring the swirling mess of annoyance, confusion, and perverse glee in your stomach. 

-

The first few days were spent in a depressive episode, a seemingly inescapable loop of sleeping in late, leaving your room only when the house was empty to raid the kitchen for something to eat, scrolling mindlessly–blindly–on your phone and then staying up way too late only to do it all over again. 

They didn’t bother you, but if the annoyed sighs and narrowed eyes from your mother were anything to go by, the talk was coming soon. After the third day of the cycle, you circumvent it and wake up early-ish to shower and dress in something other than ratty old sweats long forgotten by an ex you couldn’t quite remember. 

You came down to find Joel sitting at the kitchen table. His eyes tracked the lines of you, raising an eyebrow inquisitively. 

Your heart leapt. He should have been at work by now. 

“Good morning.” It came out croaky, your voice almost reluctant to come out. 

“Mornin’.” His hair was slicked back, the gray almost sparkling in the golden light. You fiddled with the hem of your shirt. His eyes were so intense, you found yourself stuck in place, like a deer in headlights and that ever present, deep-seeded anger reared its head. It was irrational that he should frustrate you so much with his calm presence. 

“Coffee’s fresh, if you want some.” He jut his chin out to the pot, lowering his eyes to his paper once more. Once his gaze had shifted, you found you could breathe again. You mumbled a thanks and moved to pour yourself a cup, thankful, if unsure why, to focus on something concrete instead of abstract self-reflection.

“Your mama’s gon’ be late tonight. I thought I could pick up a pizza on the way home.” He says it offhand and again, your heart races. 

“Whatever.” You scrunch your face up in annoyance, it sounded like such a bullshit, teen response. He doesn’t comment on it, and that somehow makes it worse. You beat yourself about it as you root around in the fridge for the milk. The cereal you liked was in the top cupboard, and you’re not quite tall enough to reach it. 

You heard his chair scoot back and then suddenly he’s there, beside you, pressed up tight. You follow the long line of his throat as he stares up, reaching the box with ease while one big, warm hand lands on your lower back. He smells like the laundry detergent your mother insists on buying mixed with something else. Manly, smoky, with coffee laced through. Your cunt clenches nonconsensually as he stands there and stares down at you, his whole front pressed against your side, his hand still holding your lower back. Your mouth hangs open, stupidly, and he raises an eyebrow again forcing something to kickstart deep in your gut. 

“You okay there babygirl?” The endearment feels unwholesome.

It triggers something strange, strengthening the underlying conflict for him. There’s a lilt in his tone you don’t like, maybe because deep down you like it too much. Maybe you don’t want to admit that, or analyze anything about what the fuck is happening in your body. In your psyche. 

“Yeah.” You step out of his bubble, barely managing not to trip over yourself in your haste to get away and put a healthy distance between you. 

“Yes. Thank you.” You take a deep breath, pressing your lips together tight in what you hope to God is a neutral expression. 

He lets out a bemused huff through his nose, a mischief in his eyes shining out at you that you’ve never seen directed at you. You’ve seen it used on your mom. You’ve seen her go giggly and flirty whenever he looked at her like that. A half-formed escape plan starts to form but he saves you from the need, he puts his things in the dishwasher, and nods his head in goodbye. 

You practically hold your breath until you hear his truck rumble out of the driveway, and down the street. 

-

You manage to avoid him for a few days, staying out late catching up with friends, or feigning a need for rest. You’ve convinced your mother that your days are now spent job hunting, and for the most part they are. You leave in the morning, avoiding any and all contact and you get home late, creeping up the stairs much like you did in your teens even though you’d really never needed to. Your mother never enforced a curfew, and when Joel joined the picture, he didn’t pry. 

The luck didn’t last though, you got over-confident. He was sprawled out on the sofa, up uncharacteristically late one night when you padded through the house. 

“You’re up late.” You quickly check the accusatory tone, “Don’t you have to get up early?” Better, it comes out more concerned than annoyed and he nods. He wore a threadbare t-shirt, the fabric of it having been through the wash too many times to keep its shape. Light, gray sweats were stretched almost obscenely tight over his spread thighs, pooling at his crotch from being shoved up by the couch. 

“Couldn’t sleep. Come sit, we can watch some tv.” He pats the seat next to him and despite the deep desire to retreat into the Joel-free haven of your bedroom, you cannot seem to disobey him. 

You settle beside him on the couch, a little further away than was necessary. He chuckles softly. 

“I ain’t gonna bite you, girl. Not unless you ask nicely.” 

You pretend you don’t hear it, choosing instead to compartmentalize whatever game he’s playing and stare at the screen. He flips through the channels, settling on one thing for a few minutes before moving to something else until he finds a movie that’s already close to midway. There’s an electricity in the air, something about him galvanizing the space between you, charging it enough to make the hairs on your arms stand on end. You frown to yourself, barely paying attention while fighting an increasingly confusing mental battle. Why is it so hard to be around him? Why does he inspire such scorn? Is it scorn at all?

You rub at your eyes, scrubbing your hands down your face in a feeble attempt to wipe the slate clean. 

He’s just a man, a man your mother had chosen and for better or worse they seem to work. She is happy with him and he is seemingly happy with her, why then is it so hard to accept him for what he is? Something slithers around in your brain, something that laughs darkly, something pulsing through the network of thoughts and ideas that threatens to crack open your subconscious and throw it right in your face. 

“Well now, ain’t that somethin’?” You pull your hands away from your face to see a very explicit scene playing out on the screen. Heat floods every inch of your body. 

“Almost looks like she’s enjoyin’ herself.” He leaves it on, and you feel stuck, your body betraying you yet again to see the way the woman on screen moans wantonly while under a very handsome man. You let out a non-committal sound, teetering on the edge of madness. You scold yourself, you are an adult, an adult that has had sex before and this isn’t even real. 

“Looks like fake bullshit to me.” The strength in your voice lends credence to the illusion that you aren’t affected. He laughs, calm and completely at ease and that only pulls the anger to the forefront again. 

“They can’t show the real stuff on these channels. If it were real, he’d be doin’ what she needs.” 

“And what’s that?” It comes out before you can stop it. 

“Well,” He smiles to himself, winning a duel you hadn’t even known you were fighting. 

“If it were real, he’d be pressin’ on her clit, he’d be makin’ sure she felt every inch of him and make her take his cock like a good girl.” You let out a heavy breath, half shocked, half grateful it wasn’t a whimper. 

Warning bells go off in your head, just as a heartbeat starts in your cunt because you can see it. You can see him. His face twisted up in pleasure but cocky, his hips moving, his thumb dipped into your mouth and then swirling around your clit. He smiles at catching you looking at his hands and you want to yell at him. You want to smack him across the face and kick him in the balls for saying something like that to you, his partner's daughter, but you don’t. 

Your body almost catapults you out of your seat. Barely unintelligible words come out, something about needing sleep, about being tired and then you hightailed it out of there like a bat out of hell. 

The shower was cold enough to make your teeth chatter, but it did nothing to cool the heat blooming in your core and it was with a terrifying desperation that you ground against your fingers. The slick pooling at the mouth of your pussy was enough to feel even with the water washing everything away except your shame. 

You bit your tongue to keep from moaning out the taboo and entirely inappropriate name you were dying to say out loud. His firm thighs spread on that couch filled your mind, the calloused, work-roughened hands you could practically feel on your hips, on your thighs. You could feel them holding and spreading your legs open so he could make you make those same noises you’d heard over the years. Make you take it like a good girl, his good girl. 

You came with a shudder, sagging against the chilly tile. You warmed the water with a sigh, disappointed and ashamed with yourself, trying, and failing, to put the whole thing out of your mind. 

-

You doubled down on avoiding him after that. 

Your mother worked most of the time but when she was home, things were easier. He reverted to the healthy avoidance, the proverbial disinterest that she didn’t seem to have a problem with. You still heard them some nights, the bed creaking, throaty cries, deep grunts but now they haunted you in a different way. Now you heard his words on that couch and couldn’t help but picture all manner of unsavory things that both disgusted and thrilled you. 

Being unemployed didn’t help. There was nothing to keep you out of the house most of the day, and there were only so many places that would accept you looking for a job in person. 

There was only so much time you could spend with friends too, they had their own lives and jobs and relationships. Too busy to save you from unwanted free time. 

Old habits resurface, and you retreat within yourself while pushing yourself harder. A job would fix things enough to help, you could save up enough money to leave for good and take yourself out of the equation. 

-

The powers that be momentarily take pity on you, and after what seems like a lifetime's worth of job hunting you blessedly get a call back. It’s a part time job, but at this point beggars can’t exactly be choosers. It’s a steady, if insufficient source of income that hadn’t been available to you before. Determined, you buckle down, you channel every guidance counselor you’ve ever had and ace the fuck out of that interview.

It’s not taxing work, but you put your head down and focus with the hope that if you worked hard enough, if you made a good enough impression, made yourself indispensable they’d throw you enough shifts to make up a full time job. 

It helps. Time spent away from the house, from your mothers dried up welcome, from Joel altogether genuinely helps. You feel a bit lighter, less guilty, less prone to imagine the unimaginable. You find comfort in the absence of self-imposed temptation. There is peace in the mindless work, in the life outside of the house that no longer feels like a home. 

It's a double edged sword though, because at the end of every shift, the luck–the peace–runs out. If being at work and out of the house is a respite, returning home only thickens the tension. Time spent outside the house only sharpens the discomfort, clarifies the glaring wrongness of it all when you enter it at the end of the day. What it all is, you won’t name. That way madness lies. Issue is, with every interaction, with every chance encounter in the hallway, or living room, every second spent with him in the kitchen watching his lips touch the rim of his mug the thing inside grows. Parts of him fill the corners of your mind. The curve of his shoulders filling out the flannel shirts he favors. The fullness of his bottom lip when he purses them, something he does while squinting at the paper that you’re almost sure he isn’t aware of. His neck, his hands, the dimple in his cheek when he laughs at something really funny. 

These things jump out, innocent as they may be, but other not so innocent things start to creep in. The bulge in his jeans is a mental mine, it lies in wait and every so often when you think you’ve avoided it, it detonates and you catch yourself staring, both ashamed and so inappropriately curious it eats away at you like acid. 

What you needed was something to fill the emptiness, both emotionally and physically. So you did what any modern, adult woman would do; you bought a sex toy. 

Nothing too crazy, or expensive. After perusing the site for a while you finally settled on a plain, non-threatening dildo. Nothing too big, nothing noisy, just something to be able to focus on, something to use while imagining someone giving you what you need. You ignored that dark thing inside that hissed his name, shooed it away and ordered the package for express delivery. With your mom constantly working, and Joel keeping to himself you figured it wouldn’t be an issue. Neither of them would question a package addressed to you. 

You still aren’t sure whether or not you’d do it all over again had you known the Pandora’s box that little package would open. 

You all but rushed home after work. All day, you’d imagined the relief that toy would bring. You imagined yourself using it in the shower, steam swirling as you took your pleasure. You imagined yourself laying in bed in the safety of the dark, setting a towel down on your chair and riding it to your heart's content. 

Joel’s truck is in the driveway when you pull in, but it’s secondary to the excitement at the chance to sequester yourself with your new best friend and so when you walk into the house, you don’t give him much attention. Until he opens his mouth. 

“You got a package today babygirl. I put it on your bed.” He sits on his spot on the sofa, a funny little smile on his face. A bad feeling swells in your chest, and you look up the stairs before meeting his eyes again. 

“Thanks.” You drop your bag on the little bench near the front door, trying, and failing to keep the nervous feeling out of your voice. He nods, and you make your way up, stopping yourself from taking the stairs two at a time. 

Ice flows through your veins when you see the package is open. 

He’d opened your package, he knew what you’d bought. 

Blood pounds in your ears as you stand there, limbs cold and numb at the realization that he saw it. He saw it. He opened it, and he placed it here, on the very place you fantasized about using it. Sweat beaded on your brow, the bottom of your stomach fell out of your ass as you stood there, barely feeling the soft, worn carpet under your feet. 

“Little small, f’you ask me.” His voice at the mouth of your room made your head twist fast enough to hurt your neck. You hadn’t heard him follow you up the stairs, hadn’t heard him open your door and lean against the frame, arms crossed in haughty amusement. 

“Why would you open my package?” You clutched at it, as though he could forget what he’d seen if you held it tightly enough. 

“I didn’t open it on purpose, I’m expectin’ somethin’ and I didn’t read the name.” He pushes away from the door frame, making his way closer and it’s like the air thins as the space between you shrinks.

“I mean, I could tell you been frustrated, but this doesn’t seem like it’s gon’ help much.” He reaches out, and takes the package from you. You watch him do it, watch him, frozen as he plucks it from your hands and takes the toy out. 

“This all you can take?” He holds it, contemptuously–pityingly. 

You wanted to snatch it out of his hands, the dimming voice of reason urges you to push him out of your room and remind him that he needs to keep a healthy distance but you say nothing, you stand there, and watch him. He puts it all down on your dresser, before stepping a little closer, close enough for you to have to crane your neck up to look into his eyes. 

“No boyfriends around to give you what you want?” His hand comes up, the tips of his fingers sliding across the apple of your cheek, slipping down until his thumb pressed against the cushion of your bottom lip. 

“No one around to give you what you obviously need?” He steps a little closer, until your bodies meet. This is wrong, your mind screams it but your body is frozen under his eyes, under his touch. That part, the frozen part is cheering, it’s running victory laps as it floods your cunt with slick in preparation for something unholy. 

That same, writhing, traitorous thing whispers that this is your chance, the house is empty and your body obeys. You look your fill, you take in the curve of his nose and the furrow in his brow. His eyes are black as a crow's wing, lust-blown and completely focused on your parted lips and your shallow panting. 

Adrenaline spikes and you do something you cannot take back. You rise on your tip-toes and press your mouth to his. 

He hums into it, smiling and once again you get that feeling that you’d made the exact move he’d expected you to. A vague, but fleeting inkling that you were just a pawn on his chessboard. 

At any other time you would have stepped away and repented, ate yourself alive with guilt but his hands pulled you closer, his tongue swiped at the seam of your mouth and you opened up for him. That only made it all the more real, the taste of his tongue in your mouth, feeling his hands lower to hold onto your ass. 

The rational part of you shrinks down to nothing, and that other part, the wrong part–it swells and preens under his hands. He pulls away, and embarrassingly, you chase his mouth in a daze. 

“Oh honey, you’re just dyin’ for it aren’t you?” He herds you towards your tiny bed, the twin mattress that has been the stage for every taboo fantasy about this man, your stepfather. You shoo the word away with a shiver. 

“It’s wrong-” You almost whisper, but you don’t push him away, you let him lay you down in that bed and he laughs. 

“It is, isn't it?” He pulls at the hem of your shirt, you raise your arms for him and the picture of it is wrong, daddy taking off your clothes. The thought, the word,  should disgust you but it only pulls your hands to him. You join in, and pull his shirt up and off, biting your lip at the broadness of him. You take in each freckle, the sprinkling of hair on his chest, the dip of his throat calling out for your tongue like a siren. 

He presses his lips to yours again, licking into your mouth obscenely. Unseemly. 

“You been wantin’ this for a long time, haven’t you babygirl?” He pulls your bra off, and the shock of cold air hardens your nipples. He bites his lip to see it, unable to stop himself from flattening his tongue against a hardened bud. A sound you’ve never let yourself make out loud in this room fills the space between you and that slithering thing luxuriates. 

He moves, languidly, unhurried to the other breast and holds the plump of it in his big hand and sucks at the second bud, sucks as much of the peak as he can into his mouth, breathing through his nose while you slowly spiral into madness.

When he lets go, he presses a kiss to your nipple and his facial hair tickles your skin. 

He pulls your leggings off along with your underwear in one go and the reality of it all hits you when the air hits your soaked core. That’s when the urge to put a stop to it is the clearest, when he kneels between your legs and spreads them wide, stares at the place where he’s already filled a million times in your mind. The place that’s drenched at the mere thought of him. 

“Joel-” You start, but he pushes your legs up, folding you and then he lets a glob of spit fall from his mouth slowly, aiming it, a bullseye right on the lips of your cunt. It’s too much, too filthy and you let out a whimper. 

“I think you wanna call me somethin’ else right now.” He undoes his belt and his jeans, keeping his eyes on where his saliva slides down over the open mouth of your cunt, down towards your asshole. He pulls his cock out and part of you shatters. Your eyes flit to the toy sitting on your dresser, your eyes flit to the open door of your bedroom. 

“Don’t worry, your mama ain’t gonna be home for a while.” He smiles, conspiratorially. It's too real, it’s too hypnotic, seeing him there with his cock in his hand while your legs already ache from holding them up and open. He slides the blunt end of it through the mess he’s caused, through his spit and he groans at the sight of it. 

Your heart races so hard to feel him there, that you see the pulse of it in your vision. 

“Deep breath baby.” he warns before slipping inside the tight fist of your pussy, the size of him making you gasp. This is it, there’s no coming back from this and right now, with him seated deep, his groin pressed up tight and the tip of his cock kissing your womb you cannot even think of why you’d ever care.

This is where he's meant to be. This is where you need him. 

“Oh baby, that’s so good huh?” He thrusts shallowly, pulling out a little more than halfway before shoving his hips forward again. You don’t really know how to form words, you don’t know how to take in what’s happening. This is Joel, your step-dad, fucking you in the bed you grew up in. One hand sits heavy on your shin, holding it, the other slides up and holds onto your breast. 

“Look how fuckin’ wet this little pussy is for me,” he moans the words, “you like daddy fuckin’ you?” He thrusts harder and you moan despite the word hitting you in the stomach like a big drop on a rollercoaster. He shouldn’t say that, shouldn’t call himself that, not now. 

“No-” it doesn’t come out like you mean it to, it sounds wrong, like a caress. 

“No? But I think you do-” He leans forward, keeping his pace while pressing his chest to yours, his mouth all but lining up and despite your bullshit protest, you hitch your knees high on his ribs to make room because if he stopped you’d probably die. 

“I think you want me to be your daddy, don’t you baby, it’s okay, I want to be.” He speeds up and the sounds between your legs are so wet, so filthy. 

“You can say it, I want you to say it.” He holds himself up, his elbows caging in your skull and before you can complain or moan or cry he sticks his tongue down your throat again. Your hands finally join the fray and you wrap your arms around his neck, holding him tight to you. 

“Come on baby, say it for me, tell me how good daddy fucks you.” You moan, closing your eyes while your cunt floods him with wave after wave of slick, enough to drip down your ass and onto your bed, down his balls. Enough for it to soak the curls at the base of him. 

“Look at me when I’m fuckin’ you honey.” His hips speed up and it's hard now, his thrusts making your bounce, hitting a part of you that toy would never touch in a million years. 

You open your eyes, and look at him above you, sweat beading on his hairline. Never has he looked more fucking appealing than he does right then. The word is there, in your mouth and you know it’ll taste sweeter than anything in this world. 

The wrong thing wins.  

“Yes daddy.” You moan it, and the shameful thing sets off fireworks in your being, he smiles, and tucks his head into the damp crook of your neck, feeding his lovely filth right into your ear. 

“That’s my babygirl, that’s it, fuck baby you take it better than your mama.” Something inside recoils at that, but something else, another facet of that fucked up thing inside rejoices.

“Let me hear you say it again, say it when you come.” He licks a hot stripe up your neck. His words are a filthy groan, something to tuck away for later.

He reaches down, pressing his thumb to your clit just like he said on that couch and you keen, the slip and the pressure enough to toss you over the edge with an almost painfully intense orgasm. 

“I’m coming, daddy.” It’s a shuddering whisper as your cunt clenches around him. 

He moves quickly, kneeling between your legs to pull out and then he’s stroking himself over your cunt. It’s still pulsing when he paints it in his come. You catch your breath as he tugs at himself a few more times, milking himself against you with a disturbingly familiar groan. 

The fog clears altogether too quickly. The lights are too bright, you’re naked, and he’s still got his jeans around his thighs while the guilt creeps into your veins, replacing the euphoria. 

What have I done? What have you made me do?

[reidishh]

Have ya'll seen the tiktok where the guy learns Chinese so that he could propose to his girlfriend in her native language? And he gets super nervous, and his hands start shaking, so his girlfriend holds his hands to keep them steady so he could read the translations he wrote down?

Yeah, I just watched that video, and my immediate thought was of jegulus.

Can you imagine James wanting to propose to Regulus, but he wants to make it super special, so he decides to propose in French???

James asks Sirius to tutor him in the language, and when Sirius is curious about his sudden interest in it, James blushes and stutters out some bullshit excuse because Sirius is Regulus' brother (and they're not on the best terms - never have been, really) and James isn't certain how Sirius will react to the news that James is going to be proposing to his best friends little brother. But Sirius knows. Of course he knows. This is obviously important to James, and nothing is as important to him as Reggie.

James spends months learning French with the help of Sirius. Months. By the time Sirius deems James competent in the language, James is certain he knows more French than he does English. Still, James translates all the things he wants to say to Reggie during the proposal and writes it on a piece of notebook paper because he's certain he's going to mess it up somehow.

When he finally gets down on one knee, James is hoping that it goes off without a hitch. But, of course, nothing really ever goes his way.

He gets through the first few sentences without having to use the paper, his hands clutching Regulus' as the words roll off of his tongue with practiced ease. But then the weight of the moment catches up with him, and all of the nerves he'd managed to keep suppressed finally bubble over because 'oh Merlin, this is the man I love. What if I fuck it up? What if I fuck it up and he says no?'

And, suddenly, every bit of French Sirius taught him is gone. But, Regulus is there, and he's holding James' hands, and there are tears in his eyes, and he's sending James the most comforting smile, and James knows he has nothing to worry about.

So, James lets go of Regulus in favor of digging the folded sheet of paper out of his pocket. His voice is shaky as he tries to read from it, but his hands are even shakier than his voice, and he can barely make out what he wrote. He's close to just giving up and switching over to English. Then, without warning, Regulus has his hands back on James', holding them steady.

James pauses his speech to look at Regulus, only for a moment, before continuing when Regulus whispers, "Keep going."

By the end, Regulus is sobbing, and James is worried he said something wrong. But before James can ask, Regulus is throwing his arms around him, saying that he just can't believe anyone would do something like that for him.

Regulus says yes btw.

[barcaatthemoon]

going down || jenni hermoso x reader ||

jenni surprises you at your first game as a coach.

minors dni, 18+

the game had been a close one. for your first one as a coach, it went better than you had expected. after the game, when you gave your interview, you noticed a familiar face sitting in the stands. most of the fans had dispersed already, so you knew that it had to be jenni waiting there for you.

it had been a few weeks since you had seen jenni last. the last time you had seen her was at your apartment in calgary before you packed things up. you didn't necessarily want to end your career so early, but you wanted to be closer to jenni, and your injuries were becoming more and more frequent. you came from a family of athletes, and you knew how hard hockey could be on the body when you got older.

"it is weird seeing you out of the uniform," jenni said as she wrapped her arms around the back of your neck. you smiled as you leaned into the kiss. "i am just glad that i made it to your opener. a successful start, i told you that you had nothing to worry about."

"yeah, i guess you did," you said sheepishly. "come on, let's get out of here and celebrate."

"lead the way." jenni stepped behind you and grabbed onto your hand. you walked her out of the arena and out to the parking lot. both of you seemed to have the same idea once you were alone, and you turned just as jenni placed her hand on the back of your head. this kiss wasn't gentle and sweet like the one inside of the arena had been.

jenni jumped into your arms, allowing you to support her completely. you could feel jenni begin to rub against you as you leaned her against the car door. jenni was always wildly turned on whenever you showed your physical strength. in public, she'd always deny it, but jenni liked it whenever you got a little rough with her or tossed her around.

"jenni, we have to go home. what if one of my players came out here?" you tried to pry jenni off of you, but she only clung harder.

"come on, where did that show off from montreal go?" jenni teased. you clenched your jaw, not liking that she was very obviously challenging you. "did texas really change you that much? why get a truck so big if you aren't going to fuck me in the back of it?"

"jesus christ," you mumbled as you stepped back and opened up one of the doors for the backseat. jenni smirked as she was set into the seat. "god please don't let us get caught."

"thank you for this. do you know how crazy i felt sitting there watching you all game?" jenni asked. you recognized her tone of voice immediately as the one she used whenever she wanted you to take over. it was very much on short notice, but you knew what you wanted from jenni, and what would satisfy her long enough for you to get home.

it wasn't quite a quickie in the car, but you hated having to rush through things. you joined her in the backseat of your truck and pulled her onto your lap. you grabbed a fistful of her hair to hold her in place as you kissed along her neck and used your other hand to undress her a bit. you didn't need jenni completely naked, but she definitely had to remove a few layers.

"god, you are so fucking hot," you mumbled against jenni's skin. you let your mouth latch onto one of her nipples. jenni let her hand come up to attend to the other one, much more interested in letting your free hand continue on its path between her legs.

"c-can i touch you?" jenni asked. you pulled your head back a bit to look at her. she was staring down at you as she bit her lip. her hips were rocking back and forth as she tried to seek out the friction your fingers would bring. instead, you kept her just far away enough to continue seeking it out. "please."

"since you asked so nicely." you were teasing, both you and jenni knew it. however, there was nothing she would do about that. jenni herself was usually a huge tease. it was honestly a minor miracle that she didn't try to distract you during your post-game interview.

jenni's hands quickly moved in between both of your bodies. she ran her fingertips along the muscles in your abdomen that jenni knew was there. you let out a small chuckle at the slightly ticklish sensation of her fingers moving against your skin through your shirt.

you shifted slightly beneath her, just enough to lay back a bit more in the seat. jenni's eyes lit up as she noticed the position you were taking. nights like this were few and far between. you preferred to have jenni laid out somewhere nice, but it was obvious that she wanted you in the moment. there was no use in forcing yourself to hold off, not when you could both get what you wanted immediately.

"hands on the window babe," you instructed. jenni didn't need that bit of instruction at all. she hastily began to shed her pants as she shimmied to hover above your face. you didn't let her drop down until her hands were resting against the window as a brace. staring up at her cunt, you licked your lips in anticipation. "good girl. now, keep quiet or i'll have to stop. do you understand?"

"si, silento," jenni answered. you hummed appreciatively and rewarded her with a slow lick of your tongue through her folds. jenni found herself spreading her legs even more as she tried to find your tongue again. you let out a low chuckle, letting the vibrations move along her inner thigh. "jesus christ. please baby, don't tease."

"i would never tease you, not when i have you like this," you promised her. if jenni was skeptical, she kept it to herself. you grabbed onto her hips and pulled her flush against your face. while your tongue lapped at jenni's entrance, her clit rubbed agaisnt your nose. jenni stayed still, only allowing herself to be moved by you.

there was normally a bit more of a balance between the two of you, but you both knew to relish in the unbalanced nights. it was nice when one of you took over, alleviating the stress of the other. all either of you wanted was to make the other feel good, and if the way that jenni was biting her lip to keep herself from screaming your name was any sign, you were doing your job.

"i'm so close," jenni whimpered. you reached up and took her hands in your own. jenni kept quiet, but still watched curiously as you placed her hands in your own hair. jenni could move a bit more, and you laid back and watched her ride your face to chase afer her orgasm.

some nights jenni came like a tsunami, threatening to drown everything in her path. other nights, the only tell was the way she pulled you from between her legs and clung to your body. tonight, you felt like jenni was somewhere in between. she was still quiet, but you could feel her gush onto your chin a little. it was more than the steady drip of her arousal that you were used to, but you welcomed it openly. you basked in the taste of jenni's cum like it was the nectar of the gods, reserved for you and you only.

[sleepingdayaway]

just read your majoras mask post and i wish i could hug young link so bad😭 I then thought of what would happen if its LU and reader stumbles upon Time, who hasn't seen them since Majoras Mask. The reunion would either be devastating or really cute since hes old and seeing a parental(ish) figure again😭🩷

UR SO BIG BRAIN ANON. FUCK, I CAN NEVER MAKE HIM HAPPY

making a big strong leader be sad and cry for his parental figure fuels me with so much joy

It's a quiet night for the Chain as they all chatted amongst each other while setting up camp for the night. Wild is preparing a a fire, so he could make plans for dinner with Warriors helping him by going through the recipes that he saved on his slate. Wind, Legend and Hyrule are sitting together and speaking about their homes; Wind mostly talking about how he misses his younger sister and his grandma.

Twilight has left to keep an survey the surrounding area. Separate from the group so he could transform into his wolf form without the others knowing. Sky and Four are besides the cook and captain as they had a soft conversation about Sky's sword during his time in the Knight Academy, and when he was forging the Goddess Blade/Master Sword.

Meanwhile Time is sitting a bit farther away; not too far that he couldn't hear them but he's able to have his own space. He’s been feeling heavy these days as it takes a mental toll on him. Attempting to be the voice of reason isn’t easy even though he is in a body that now matches his mind.

Time doesn’t understand the heaviness that he has been feeling as their journey continues; the years long exhaustion seeping into his bones as he watches the rest interact with each other. A small nagging in his skull refuses to allow him a moment of relief. Urging him to get up and not stay idle which causes the older man to let out a sigh.

Which turned out to be a good idea when two sets of footsteps could be heard approaching the camp. Time turned to look at where the noise was approaching which in turned caused the rest of the hero’s to tense up slightly.

If old man Time notices something first, the others will follow suit. Instead of the noise of monsters which most of them can recognize; it was instead the voice of Twilight with a familiar one in tow. Everyone relaxed when they realized it was the Rancher, but were curious on who was he bringing. It was unusual for him to bring a civilian into their camp.

Except as soon as they were in view it made sense. The civilian was roughed up and had scratches and scrapes all over their body as if they had been running away from something. Although they acted as if they were fine, smiling and making exaggerated gestures for Twilight. A slight distraction one as would a parent would to distract a child from something

It seemed to work as Twilight was fully engaged in conversation and only broke out of it when Hyrule reacted first and approached them. They smile at Hyrule and began introducing themselves as the boy checks up on the civilian, upon seeing the injuries on them.

That voice. Time’s ear gave a slight twitch upon hearing them speak, as a sudden coldness enveloped his body. He knows that voice. Holy shit, Time fucking recognized who is speaking to Hyrule and Twilight.

Time needs to step away; as he felt his own body began to tremble at the memories of his past adventures with them. He can’t show weakness in front of the others. If he starts acting up then everyone will become suspicious of them even though they have done no wrong.

Quickly he gets up before approaching Warriors and muttered some excuse about him needing to take a walk. Warriors, who understands that Time had a lot on his plate recently, agreed and reassured that he and Twilight will keep watch over everyone.

In an instant, Time is walking away from the group as he felt someone’s gaze on his back.

The sun is gone by the time he returns to the camp.

Time curses himself for leaving for so long. He wasn’t supposed to be gone for a long time; he merely needed time to recollect his thoughts and get his act together before approaching them again.

The scarred man lets out as sigh once he catches sight of the campfire. His body slowly begins to relax once he spots the rolled out bedrolls that are occupied by the rest of the group.

As he nears closer he counts the ones who a sleeping, noticing that the only one that isn’t asleep is Wild. Said man is by the fire and already staring at the older hero and quietly goes up to him, “Time, you’re back.” He states softly, trying not the wake the others from their sleep.

Time nods and scans the younger man for anything that could be bothering him, “Yes, sorry for being gone until nightfall, it wasn’t my intention I just-“

“Needed to clear your head?” Wild interrupts with a small smile of understanding. In which Time lets out a small sigh before humming in agreement.

“Is everything alright? How was….the civilian that the Ranch hand brought?” He asked.

As if barely remembering about them Wild slightly shuffled on his feet, “They’re fine! It’s just that……”

The Hero of Time raises a brow at him, “Did something happened while I was gone?” He questioned as he placed his hands on his hips.

“No! Nothing bad happened it’s just, they were determined to repay us by keeping watch and letting us all rest,” Wild responds before turning away and looks behind him; Time follows his gaze. Sitting away from them on a log near the edge of camp is them; staring out into the woods and appears to be keeping watch as Wild says.

”Huh….. I would’ve assumed that one of you would be weary of letting a stranger be in charge of your safety.” Wild lets out a slight wince at his words, and a hand comes up behind his neck as he remembers what happened a few hours prior.

“You’re not wrong, in fact the Veteran was the first one to express his distaste at the idea who was then backed up by Wars.”

Wild explains how after the two voiced their opinions and how they’re greatful at the thought, but they didn’t trust them. The civilian nodded in understanding before they began interacting with the rest. Somehow as the sun was begun to set and everyone ate their meals; did they all began to grow tired as their journey from today hit them unusually hard.

Warriors pulled Wild to the side and explained how Time was still out there and how they might need to go search from him, but that was when the Civilian spoke up. Saying how they’re sure that he’ll arrive soon and to soothe their worries they’ll stay up to wait for his return.

Reluctantly, Warriors agreed as his exhaustion doubled before crawling into his bedroll and promptly passing out. Leaving Wild and them awake as Wild fights off sleep; keeping them company as they waited for Time to return.

“I know it’s ridiculous for a group of hero’s to lower their guard to someone unfamiliar, but for some reason…. I feel as if……”

“As if you know them from somewhere?” Said Time gently, now understanding where he was coming from. Wild nodded as he looked down, finally realizing how tired he was.

Time put his hands on Wild’s shoulders and gave them a comforting squeeze, “I’m here now, go rest.” He says softly with a slight tone of appreciation, “Thank you, for waiting Wild.”

The young man nodded before walking limply to his own bedroll and collapsing as well.

He watched Wild fall asleep completely as an attempt to delay the inevitable, but Time knew it was futile and he knew that they would still be waiting. After a few moments passed did he begin to walk over to the edge of camp where they sat.

He sat down next to them without thinking twice, but didn’t look at their face. He had a feeling that string holding himself together would snap if he looked at them.

But it would be broken anyway since they made the first move.

“I’m sorry for leaving without goodbye.”

Time tenses before dropping his face into his hands, letting out a silent sob, in an attempt to hide himself from view.

A gentle hand lands in his hair as it begins to comb through it, and once more he’s pulled back into his memories during his journey through Termina. Of the same hand running through his hair in the aftermath of a battle that took a toll on him.

Losing all strength that is holding himself together; Time collapses on himself and curls up to them. Losing all rationality and just wants to be held by them again as he clings on their clothes.

“It’s okay, I’m here now Link.”

Their voice calls out to Time as their other arm wraps around his back to hold him closer. As he cries to himself as the memories of Termina returns full force, the amount of times he failed the people of the town. The moments where he messed up and had to start over again-

He failed to save that girl’s father.

He failed to reunite Kafei and Anju.

He failed to protect Romani from those monsters.

He failed-

Humming interrupts his train of thought as he opens his eyes in shock. The feeling of a hand rubbing his back and another in his hair brings him back to them, as he leans his head on their chest.

Relaxing into their hold as he listens to their heartbeat and to their humming of a familiar song.

Finally.

Someone else sings for his sorrows to heal.

[mooningningg]

秘密 — ʜɪᴅᴅᴇɴ ꜰʟᴀᴍᴇꜱ.

[歌] secret relationship situations with jjk men

[pairings] megumi f, satoru g, yuuji i, and suguru g.

[warnings] none.

[genre] fluff.

[notes] Im back!? anyway, hit me up for request queens.

Megumi.

You arrive at school, your friends immediately noticing your navy blue hoodie and dark jeans.

“Hey, nice outfit,” one of them comments, glancing at you with a smirk. “Didn’t know you were into that style.”

You shrug, pretending nonchalance. “Just felt like wearing it today.”

Later, during lunch, your friends are still eyeing you curiously. “Did you see Megumi today?” one asks. “He was wearing the exact same thing.”

You try to stay calm, but your heart skips a beat. “Really? That’s funny.”

One friend raises an eyebrow. “Seems like more than just a coincidence, don’t you think?”

You shift in your seat, feeling a bit flustered. “Maybe we both just have good taste.”

As the day goes on, you find yourself stealing glances at Megumi from across the hall, catching his eye. He gives you a subtle, knowing smile, confirming that the matching outfits weren’t just a fluke.

Satoru.

it was a soft afternoon, underneath the shades of the tree sat a bunch of friends, finding themselves in yet a very unnecessary fight amongst their own disagreements.

"dogs are so annoying, sure they can be cute but have you ever smelled their piss?" shoko exclaims with furrowed eyebrows, taking out the lollipop she had in her mouth to speak her mind while laying her head on suguru's lap.

suguru scoffed at her statement, "for once I agree with this woman."

shoko brings her hand to flick suguru on the forehead who flinched at the force.

"i don't know, they can be loyal at times— cats on the other hand? not so much." you protest with a shrug you had your back leaning on a tree.

shoko gasps at your statement, "cats can be loyal!"

"if considering taking a shit on your bed is loyal then sure they are." satoru exclaims with a chuckle at the end of his sentence.

suguru raises his eyebrow in confusion, "whose side are you on? you hate dogs."

you and satoru both glanced at each other with panic in your eyes, this wasn't suppose to happen.

"you literally barf around them." shoko mentions with a laugh.

"no i don't shut up!" satoru exclaims with a irritated tone before kicking the woman playfully.

thankfully enough, suguru's suspicion was soon disregarded as you all moved on to another thing to fight about.

Yuuji.

"this movie looks cool as fuck." yuuji exclaims with excitemend evident in his eyes.

"seriously? plumber head 2?" nobara asks, her face deadpanned and so done with whatever yuuji was on.

megumi rolls his eyes feeling the boredom already oozing out from him, "im going home."

"what? but you guys promised!" yuuji exclaims with pleading eyes.

meanwhile you stoor there, your hands in your pocket as you watch your boyfriend in secret plead both of you friends to watch his said favorite movie.

yuuji then turns to you with panic seen in his eyes, "baby please tell them to stay!"

oh shit.

"baby?" nobara asks again, she heard it, she just wanted to make sure if she heard it right.

your eyes instantly went wide with yuuji flying up a hand to cover his mouth but it was too late.

you four stared at each other... awkwardly.

"so— you two?" nobara asks, her eyebrows furrowed feeling slightly nervius about the situation weirdly enough.

your minds race to things that could get you out of this situation but nothing came out so you just sighed in relief, "yeah."

"unfortunately." megumi insults with a serious expression before earning a jab from yuuji who received a punch on the back of his head from the raven haired

that was one way to announce your relationship.

Suguru.

It was inevitable, of course. you knew the conditions of dating suguru, he was attractive, of course girls would throw themselves on him. going their way to try their chances.

you knew it from the start you agreed to keep your relationship secluded and a secret.

you watch from a good distance as suguru shifted in his position as a random girl stops him on his tracks on his way to you with a slirty smile, pushing up her chest ridiculously.

suguru scratches the back of his head with a awkward smile, they were talking. but it wasn't audible from your distance so you just watched. you knew you couldn't act rash, you trusted suguru.

before you knew it, the girl had already walked away with pain and anger evident on her face, as if something with suguru's words had shattered her heart.

you see your boyfriend walking his way to you, his usual soft and warm smile not falterring for a moment as he finally stops in front of you, "well that was annoying."

"she looked angry." you mention, folding your arms in front of your chest as he chuckles, you couldn't scan any tone or emotion in his chuckle it was as if, a rumble in his chest to sweeten the words he was about to say next.

"it was nothing, let's go?" suguru offers to you, discarding the topic. you knew more than to push it further.

you knew suguru, you knew at the end of the day he was gonna come home to you, only you.

[bengals-barnesbabe]

Princess Ti

Pair: Husband!Tee Higgins x Chase Sister!Reader

Descr: The day everyone’s been waiting for is here, GAME DAY- wait something’s not right. Barely proofread, but it's done.😅

TW: language, mentions of sex, childbirth.

Things Are Changing | Main Masterlist

WC: 5,003

....:::: * * •° ✾ °•* * ::::....

“Y/n, it’s almost kick off!” Your mother-in-law calls out.

You huff hugging your bump, looking at the shirt you’d usually be wearing for game day if you weren’t 41 weeks pregnant.

Usually, you'd be at the game cheering your husband and younger brother on from the stands, but that wasn't really an option this far along in your pregnancy. But you at least wanted to indulge in your favorite game day tradition: wearing Tee's jersey. However, that wasn’t going so smoothly either.

Your bedroom door opens, and Tee’s mom pops her head in. “You okay, darlin’?”

“I would be, but I’m still pregnant, so I’m not.” She chuckles and sits on the bed next to Tee’s jersey. 

“I know how you feel. You’re tired, antsy, anxious, moody. Little princess is really enjoying her time in there.” She offers you a kind smile.

“I think I made too good of home in there. Tee says there’s no better place for her to be than the womb. Of course, he would because he doesn’t have swollen ankles and an extra 30 lbs to carry on his torso. He was so scared I’d go into early labor that I think he convinced her to stay longer. 2 more weeks and she’ll be evicted via C-section, and that’s the last thing I want.” You pout, joining her on the bed.

“Hey, everything’s going to be fine. You’ve been doing everything right to get your body ready for this. She’ll come when it’s right. You said you woke up with contractions, right?”

You nod your head, “Braxton hicks. I’ve been dilated 2 centimeters for a week. Tee didn’t want to go to work, but it only lasted 15 minutes. The last one was actually before you came in, but it didn’t last long. It’s been like this since I hit 37 weeks.”

“Hey, you never know; babies surprise everyone.” You chuckle.

“I think I can fix this problem, though.” She points to the jersey. “Have a pair of scissors around?”

You go over to your vanity and dig out some hair scissors. She takes them and cuts a long triangle up the sides. “Here, now you can wear it and be comfortable.”

You slip the jersey over your white tee and admire her handiwork. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome; now we have a game to watch.” You happily link arms and join your mother in the living room.

“Y/n, your brother is driving me insane.” You roll your eyes when you see her eyes glued to her phone.

“What’d he do this time?” You sit between the ladies and hog a bowl of pretzels as she goes on about Ja’Marr’s post-game dinner requests.

You spend the next half snacking, yelling at the screen (not that you’d ever tell your husband), and listening to your mothers chat about their sons. You fell asleep during the start of the third quarter but woke to the same pain you felt this morning.

“I’m so tired of these fake ass contractions.” You hold on to your belly as the tightening gets worse. “Sorry for my language.”

Your mother shakes her head. “Babygirl, you’re in pain. No one is judging a few curse words, even if we both know you have a sailor’s tongue.”

“Momma, what-whatever, fuck- J told you isn’t- oh my god.” You grab hold of her hand as it’s held out.

“Hey hey, breathe, Y/n, breathe. Are you timing this?” Your mother-in-law nods as alarmed as yours. 

Your eyes squinched, teeth gritted, and you cried out in a pain you’d never felt before. “Mommy!”

“Yeah, baby, I’m right here.” You feel her free hand run your back. You try to do the breathing exercises she tells you and finally exhale when the pain dials down.

“Y/n?” You look up at the woman teary-eyed. 

“I lied, I don’t think these are Braxton hicks. They started a few hours after he left. I thought they were fake until they were happening every other hour. Now there’s even less time between them.” 

“I’m calling your midwife over and texting my son.” Your mother-in-law rubs your leg with a smile.

“Y/n, why didn’t you tell us you were in labor?” 

“Because I’m not. My water hasn’t broken yet, and they aren’t that close together. Tee’s not here. It’s not happening right now. If she wanted to come, it should've been this morning. It can’t be happening.” You shake your head and look up at the TV. As if on cue, your husband catches a pass and runs it to the endzone.

“Aww, babygirl, I know it’s scary, but this is what we’ve been waiting for.” She brings your head to her shoulder.

“The game isn’t over; we can’t just- ohhh fuck it’s back,” you whine as the contractions come back tenfold. You feel it everywhere now, your abdomen, back, pelvis- it was like you were being stabbed and electrified all over.

“Sarah is on her way over, and I called someone to get Tee.”

❁ཻུ۪۪♡

“Great catch, Tee! Great job, baby!” His teammates hollered as the wide receiver jogged over to the bench. 

The Bengals were winning 28 - 18 over the Browns, with both Tee and Ja’Marr catching each pass that came their way. Tee was all smiles as he sat back and took off his helmet. 

“That’s right, boy, show ‘em who's they daddy!” He chuckles as Ja’Marr hypes him up.

“Aight now, only one person can call me that, and she ain’t here yet.” They do their handshake with similar smiles. 

“Now that game gon be special,” Ja’Marr says before one of the sideline managers approaches them. “Hey, what’s the rush?” 

The girl looks at Tee with a sheepish smile.

He furrows his brows. “What’s wrong?”

She catches her breath and then speaks up. “We just got a call from your mom, your wife- Y/n’s in labor.”

“My sister’s in labor! Shit, I guess that day’s today.” Ja’Marr chuckles as his brother-in-law jumps up.

“I gotta go- wait, Coach- fuck.”

“Don’t worry, just go, Taylor knows. Go meet your daughter.” She smiles, ushering him off the field.

“I’ll catch up with y’all later. Take care of them! Good luck!” Tee waves as he runs into the tunnel.  

❁ཻུ۪۪♡

Your midwife, Sarah, arrived at the house minutes after calling her and, making her the third person in your presence who seemed to enjoy your pain. Then, before she could even examine you, you leaned over in pain and felt a small gush of fluids coat your shorts. 

On the way to the birth center, you were shifting between feeling extremely anxious, pure electrocuting pain, and intense worry. Everything was happening so fast, and the fact that your husband wasn’t here was making all your nerves go off. 

“Wow, this room is really nice. I had all my babies in a cheap ass hospital, so I’m not used to this kind of luxury.” Your mom praised as you settled into your birthing room.

“Momma, I’m begging you.” 

Tee still hadn’t arrived yet, it that, along with the fact that you were currently 5 centimeters dilated, was not helping calm your anxiety at all. Sarah and the two moms in the room were doing their best to soothe your aches, but nothing beats the comfort of being in your man’s arms during your time in need.

“Maybe you should rethink the epidural, baby.” Mama T suggests while tying your braids up into a bun.

“Yea, babygirl, it could help. It’s never too late to ask.” Your mom added. 

In return, you shook your head, unable to open your eyes due to the pain. “No, we had a plan. No matter how bad it gets, I don’t want them to take away any of my senses.”

 God, how badly you needed your husband. You wanted him to be the one rubbing your back and helping you through the worst pain you’ve ever felt. How could he not be here right now? He’s been waiting for this day longer than you and is late! 

“Where the fuck is my husband?” You grunt through your gritted teeth.

“He’s on his way sweetheart, just breath.” Sarah coos, earning a deadly side eye from you. 

“I’m going to kill him.”

“How about you think about how happy and relieved you’re gonna be when all this is over and your baby girl is safely in your arms.”

“Why did I let him do this to me?” You groaned, completely ignoring her. As the contraction subsides, you lay your hand over your eyes and let the exhaustion of labor pull you into a shallow slumber.

“Maybe we should start her on some Nitrous?”

❝ ❞ ✧ ೃ༄

About Nine Months Ago..

“My boobs have been absolutely killing me.” You hiss as you palm the tender flesh. 

“Want me to massage ‘em for ya?” You catch the cheeky smile on your husband’s face through the bathroom mirror and shake your head.

“No, Tamaurice, that will make them worse.” 

“Awww, the government name. What did I do this time?” he lightly groans, shuffling into the bathroom like a sad toddler.

“Nothing that this can’t tell us.” You shrug, pulling a box out of a CVS bag. 

“Y/n?”

“Tee?”

“That’s a pregnancy test.” 

Ever since you and Tee got married, you kept a box hidden in the lower cabinet for emergencies. “Yes, it is.” 

“Why do you already have it?” It started as a gag gift from one of your friends. It was a Secret Santa party, and they thought it would be funny since you always joke about how much sex you and Tee have.

“Baby, it’s just a precaution. I could be just PMSing, but we have to rule out the possibility.”

“How many of these have you taken without me knowing?” Enough to know you want this one to be positive.

He turns your body to face his and perfectly reads the longing on your face. You want this to be the last one more than anything.

“Why didn’t you tell me you wanted to have a baby?” You shrugged, not knowing what to say.

“Y/n, I’m your husband. Remember that really expensive party on that mountain of snow? That was a wedding.” He chuckles as you slap his chest.

“I’m very aware that we’re married. It only happened eight months ago. I just didn’t want to be disappointed when you said no.” You frown, looking down.

“Hey, hey. Baby, don’t do that; let me see you.” His voice is calm and soft as he lifts your head to see his warm smile. “If you had told me you wanted to have a baby, I would’ve gotten you pregnant the second we got to the islands.” 

“Really?” He lifts you onto the counter so you can be eye to eye and smirks.

“Oh yeah, there’s nothing sexier than my wife walking around with my last name and my baby cooking for all the world to see. Fuck I’d love to see you pregnant with my jersey on. Then, by the end I get to raise a baby that looks just like you. I couldn’t be happier about that. Then after our little prince or princess is old enough and your ready, I’ll fuck you full of me again until there’s no doubt we’ll have another one on the way.”

Hearing him talk about getting you pregnant is so possessive, dirty, raunchy even, but all around absolutely amazing. He wants this just as much as you do, and maybe more. God, you’re lucky.

Grabbing his face, you smile as big as possible. “I love you so much, Tamaurice.” Then press your lips against his.

He chuckles into your lips and gently returns the kiss, wrapping your legs around him and hugging your body. “Ok baby, now don’t you have a test to take?” He asks after slightly pulling away, just enough for his words to come out clearly. You fully lean back and play with the braids on his neck.

“What if it’s negative?”

“Then I’ll spend the next few days making love to you all over this house, and we’ll enjoy every minute of it.” He said as if it was the sweetest dream he’d ever had, then pecked your forehead. “Okay mamas?”

Oh that name brought chills down your spine. You nodded as he lifted you off the counter and onto your feet. Taking a deep breath, you finally open the pink box and take out the test. “Will you stay here with me?”

“Of course, I will; now go pee on that stick mama.” He winks, slapping your butt as you walk into the water closet (private toilet). 

“I’m right here baby!” You roll your eyes but enjoy every bit of his enthusiasm. “I don’t hear any pissing, just giggling.”

“Oh my god, Tee, give it a second!”

“Want me to bring you some water? Actually I have a better idea.” Then he turns on the faucet. What’s not to love about this man?

Moments later, he hears a flush, and you join him back at the counter. “So…”

“We have to wait 15 minutes for the test to develop fully, " you said, putting the stick back in the box and washing your hands.

“You know waiting’s never been my strong suit.”

You roll your eyes and hop onto the counter. “Tell me a secret then.”

“Only if you tell me one.” He challenges laying his hands on your thighs.

“Deal.” You both smirk and count to 3 on your fingers. 

“Ja’Marr wasn’t the one who finished the rice and peas.”

“I hate making pecan pie.”

Your eyes widen while his jaw drops. “Baby, how the hell did you eat a whole pot of rice and peas?”

“Mamas, who gives a shit about the rice. You said you loved pecan pie. You asked my momma for the recipe!” Tee’s grip on your thighs deepens a bit.

“I said it because it was your favorite, and I wanted that second date! You can’t blame me for liking your fine ass. I would pretend to play flag football if it meant you’d like me as much as I did you. You know I hate running.” You whine, wrapping your arms around his neck and pecking his pouty lips.

His lips curve back up in a smile as he chuckles. “You do hate running, so you’ve made that pie every year on my birthday, Thanksgiving, Christmas shit whenever I mention it all for me. You’ve never liked it once?”

You slowly nod, biting your lip. “Nope.”

A smirk grows on his handsome face, exposing his sparkly teeth. “You must’ve really liked a nigga to be doin’ all the cooking with no ring.” 

You snort, rolling your eyes as he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. “Of course I fucking liked you, have you met yourself. You’re probably the most charismatic, fine, intelligent, kind, sexy man I’ve ever met.” You smile, pecking his lips until he meets your lips with more force. 

After the short but sweet kiss, he pulls back from your lips but leaves your foreheads touching. “Damn, I don’t know what I did to deserve a woman like you. But I thank god every day for you. You know I’d do anything for you, too, right? Without you, I wouldn’t be the man I am today. After my first year in the league, I was feeling really low. Then, this angel walked onto the practice field and changed my life. There was no way I would’ve turned you down, not when you brought a light to my life I didn’t realize was missing.” You smile misty-eyed as he wipes away a stray tear.

“Shit, the only thing I regret in life is not buying you a ring sooner.” He says, causing you to scoff.

“Oh, two years was too late for you?”

“Oh, yeah. I was ready to be with you forever from day one. Your big-headed brother is the one who told me to wait, " he smirked.

You chuckle, laying a hand on his cheek. “Well, it doesn’t matter now. I’m yours, and you’re mine; everyone else be damned.” His head turns slightly, and he kisses your palm.

“Just me and you, baby.”

Then the timer goes off.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

When Tee finally reaches the birth center, he finds your mother pacing outside.

“Hey, mama J, what’s wrong? Is she alright? Is it the baby? Oh god, what happened?” He asks with his hands going to the top of his head, panicked and looking through doors to see if anything is happening.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re here.” She sighs in relief, taking the corner of his shirt and dragging him inside.

“It’s bad, isn’t it? I told her I should’ve stayed home today, but she was too stubborn, and now-

“Now, she can finally relax because you’re here.” She smiles and turns into the room. You smiled immediately upon seeing the love of your life.

“Oh fucking, finally!” Tee lets out the breath he was holding in and rushes over to your bedside. “You took your sweet ass time.”

He chuckles at your grumpiness and lifts your chin for your lips to meet briefly. “I’m sorry, mamas, I got stuck in the pads and walked into a few walls trying to get them off.”

You press your lips together to suppress your laughter. “Okay, that makes everything better, " you say as the chuckles bubble to the surface. While you release your amusement, he admires how adorable you look in your soft pink gown, with your long braids pulled up into a bun and your large bump with a fetal monitor wrapped around it.

“I can’t believe we’re having a baby. How are you so calm right now? I’ve been freaking out since this morning.” He looks over at your contraction waves and goes bugged-eyed by the giant waves produced in contrast to your bubbly appearance. “What the hell?”

“She’s on nitrous.” His mom looks over, smirking. 

“Shit, momma, I forgot you were here.” He nervously chuckles as she walks over to her son and hugs him.

“That’s ok, you have more pressing matters. You should’ve seen her earlier, though. I thought she was gonna start swinging.” The pair look over at you, taking selfies in your hospital bed.

“Now look at her, giving birth and snapping pics, mm mm mm kids nowadays.”

Then, another wave of contractions hit you a bit differently. “Oh shit.” You raise and hug your belly. “Someone call Sarah right now!”

Tee’s brows scrunch. “What’s up?”

“The baby’s coming.” You take the oxygen mask your mom hands to you and take a deep breath. He comes over and puts his hand on your lower back.

“I know, that’s why we’re here.” You shake your head and grab his free hand, squeezing as hard as possible. “Baby?”

“There’s this pressure- a lot of fucking pressure. I feel like I need to push.” You groan out.

“Wait, you mean push push?” He asks wide-eyed.

“Yes, fuck! Oh my god! Fucking shit! Why the hell did I let you do this to me?”

“Ok, we need to order more nitrous.”

“Hello friends, oh Tamaurice, I'm glad you could join us today.” Sarah chimes, walking into the room in full gear.

“Oh, that was fast.” Tee remarks.

“I heard her from down the hall, so I assume it’s baby time!” Your midwife cheers, rolling her stool over to the bed.

Suddenly, all the anxiety from earlier about Tee missing your daughter’s birth evolves into anxiety about the birth itself. “Wait, wait, wait. Baby, I don’t think I can do this. We haven’t thought this through. I’m not ready. I can’t do this.”

“Hey hey hey,” Tee cups your face in his hands and takes in the immense worry in your eyes. “Y/n, you are way more than prepared. You know exactly what to do and have all the strength to do it. You’ve done an amazing job cooking and caring for her in there, but it’s time for her to be in your arms instead of your belly.”

“But what if I’m not a good mom? What if she comes out and we just fuck her up?” Your voice trembles as you lean into him.

“Mamas, you aren’t going to be a good mom- you’ll be the best. Every decision you’ve made in the past year was for her. Our princess is being welcomed by my queen, and my queen only gives her 110%. My queen also has a king who is willing to do any and everything for you. This king is also ready to meet his Princess Ti, and I bet her momma is too.” He pecks your lips and then smiles as your tears dry up.

“Okay, let’s have a baby.”

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The following two hours felt like a blur of emotions: voices of your loved ones urging you to push, the hands-on your body holding you up, the exhaustion of the labor wanting to take over. Then, it all fluttered away with a sudden relief and a sharp cry. You immediately slumped back into the bed, the exertion impacting every part of your body. You wanted to fall asleep right there, now that all the pain had drifted away and you felt at ease. 

Then you opened your eyes and saw her.

At first, it was just a tiny head of dark hair. Then your midwife turned around, and there she was, wrapped up in a pink swaddle cloth, one hand swiping at her light brown cheeks and big eyes searching the room. 

“Oh my god.” Your whisper makes her eyes dark right to you, and she lets out a whimper.

“You want your mama, don’t you? Come on, sweet pea.” Sarah coos and you gently place her in your arms. 

“Oh wow, you’re real.” You breathily whisper to yourself. The infant’s eyes stay on you like you're the only person in the world, just like yours stay locked on her. “Hi, baby.” 

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Tee leans over to kiss your head. You nod, stroking her tiny cheeks. 

“Yeah, she looks just like her momma.” He smiles, caressing her head.

“She’s amazing, I can’t believe we made her.” You sniffle. “Baby, we’re parents.” You smile, looking up at your husband.

“Speaking of, mom and dad, does our little angel have a name?” 

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Tee says as he rummages through the bag he brought. 

“What is it?”

He comes back with three black circular velvet boxes, one twice as big as the other two. “Here’s the real reason I was late.” You watch him smile, puzzled, while he hands you the bigger one.

“What is this?” 

“These ones,” he holds up the other two boxes, “are for our little princess from her uncles J and JB.” He smiles, opening one to reveal a small tiara.

Your eyes widen, and a gasp escapes your mouth. “Oh my god, that is the cutest thing I have ever seen.” Tee chuckles as he removes the small cap from your daughter’s head and replaces it with the small crown.

“Joe’s been asking what he should get her for months. I kept saying something fit for a princess. And he definitely delivered. He reminded me to grab it from his locker before I left. He hid it very well.” 

“And the other one?”

“I’ve had this one for a while. I think it was about a month after telling Ja’Marr that he texted me saying he had something for me to pick up.” He opens the second box.

“He didn’t.” You look up at him in complete shock and take it out of his hands.

“Pure gold bracelet, anklet, and ring set, made by the same company in NOLA that made yours. It was so hard to keep it from you; every time you had a slight ache or pain that made your days long and tiring, I wanted to bring it out and cheer you up. Especially when we found out they went out of business. I know you wanted this for our baby girl so badly. J really pulled through with this one.” Your mom joins you, looking at the set in awe. 

“I didn’t even know he knew about that.” She whispers.

“Me neither.” You sniffle as your husband kneels, takes the small bracelet out, and clasps it around your baby’s wrist.

“There are more adjustable chains for when she outgrows this one, but for now, she’s perfect.” He smiles, kissing her tiny hand.

“What about this one?” Your mom points to the box he handed you first. 

“This one is from me to my beautiful bride, who I am forever thankful for and proud of for doing one of life’s hardest jobs and giving me my baby girl.” You blink away tears as he smiles and kisses your hand before sitting on the side of the bed and revealing the last item. “I told you you’d always be my queen. And since our princess already has hers..” 

“Tee, it's beautiful.” Your voice trembled as he lifted an almost identical replica of the tiara on your baby’s head onto your own. 

“Only the best for the loves of my life.” He wipes a fallen tear from your cheek and kisses your head. Shifting over in the bed, you gesture for him to sit closer, and he gladly scoots up next to you.

Sighing in pure contentment, you lay your head on his chest. “Thank you, " you replied softly, yawning, then gently passing the bag to your husband. 

“We gotta make sure the princess lives up to her name. Ain’t that right, Tiana?” He cooes holding her with one arm and you with the other, supporting her head with your body.

“Yea my little girl’s not gonna fall for those little f boy traps, nope. She has a daddy who will show her the universe, so no one can ever top it but yourself. My precious girl, Tiana...

You swiftly drift off into a deep sleep, listening to your husband make promises to her, knowing he will keep.

ʚ❤︎ɞ ᶫᵒᵛᵉᵧₒᵤ ʚ❤︎ɞ

A few hours later, after you’ve rested and fed your baby, Tiana receives her first visitor.

“Hey, family, where’s my Titi?” Ja’Marr sings, walking in your room.

Rolling your eyes, you nudge your head to where Tee’s sitting on the lounge chair next to your bed. 

“There she is,” he grins, sitting on the edge of the bed to admire her. “Wow, she’s incredible. You did a great job, sis.” He says, handing you two bags.

“Thank you, and thank you. How was the rest of the game?” you ask, opening the bag of steaming food, which fills the room with a mouthwatering aroma, and digging into your Cajun fries.

“It was okay. Most of the guys were worried about you. But we won, so all is well. They even dedicated the win to baby Tiana.” He chuckles, removing the beanie from his head.

“Holy shit,” you gasp, causing some of the fries to fall onto your gown.

He looks back at you, confused. “What?”

“Oh right, I forgot to tell her you buzzed your hair too.” Tee mentions it as if it was nothing.

“Bro, seriously.” Your brother questions, earning a shrug from your husband.

You continue to stare at him in shock but resume eating. “Did you do it yourself too?”

He shakes his head. “Hell nah, not after what I did to him.” You snort, thinking about the impromptu shape-up you had to give your husband.

“Yeah Tiana didn’t enjoy it either; she kicked so much that day.” 

“Baby, you sure it wasn’t because you overloaded on sugar beforehand?” Tee smirked, stealing one of your fries.

Before you can respond, you hear a whine come from his arms. 

“Oh, I'm sorry, Tiana. Are we not paying attention to you?” You smile at his ‘baby voice’ and look over to watch them interact, like everyone else in the room.

“Damn, she looks exactly like you, Y/n. Especially with the gold.” Ja’Marr winks.

“I still can’t believe you kept them a secret from me for eight months. I cried for days when they announced that they were closing down. I don’t know if you're the best or worst brother doing this to me.” He chuckled, wrapping an arm around you. 

“I think I earned brother of the year with that set.” You snorted, shaking your head.

“Yea, no, not with that haircut. Now go hold your niece.” You ordered, shoving him off the bed.

“Hey, that’s fine by me. Come on,  Titi, it’s Uncle Marr time.” He gave Tee grabby hands until the baby was passed into his arms then he took the seat.

“Thank goodness you don’t look anything like your dad. You might have his last name, but you got all the good Chase features.” Your husband rolls his eyes, joining you on the bed.

Wrapping his arms around you, he sighs softly. “That’s my princess.”

“I know, honey. Think about this: she might not have it now, but when she gets older, I know she’s gonna have your amazing smile.” 

“You think so?” You nodded, then kissed his lips. 

“I know so because that’s the only expression she’s going to know. She’s going to learn that she has the best daddy who always makes sure her momma is smiling. She'll never have to worry with you by her side.” 

He chuckled, showcasing his award-winning smile. “I love you and Tiana so much.”

“We know, right, Titi?” Your daughter wiggled in her uncle’s arms, trying to find your voice, and then a slight whimper started to bubble.

“Oh, come on, Tiana, we were having a moment.” Ja’Marr pouts as the baby’s eyes start crinkling.

“I guess I’ll give you back now, but I will be back, Titi.” He mumbles, handing her to you.

“Oh, my precious princess Ti.”

﹌﹌﹌ ꕥ ﹌﹌﹌ ꕥ ﹌﹌﹌ ꕥ ﹌﹌﹌

a/n: I don't think I've ever worked on a fic as much and as hard as this one. I'm very glad it's finished, so yall enjoy. The final part of this mini series will be out next week!

Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated and encouraged if you liked this fic. (pls validate me lol)

[orbitariums]

FINALLY BLACK READER CHALLENGERS FICS WOOOO!!! plz do stanford!art dating black track star! reader👀👀 patrick can be involved too maybe he goes to stanford idk

no more running | art donaldson + black trackstar! reader

i know nothing about track (or tennis!) so bear with me

art was infatuated with you the moment he saw you at a track meet tashi’s dragged him to — he really had no interest in anything but tennis, that is until he saw you.

you were perfect, all silky brown skin and braids pulled up into a high ponytail, with the physique of a lioness. and it helps that your body's insane – you're visibly strong and you carry yourself well. you moved with a flourish, effortlessly and gracefully. nothing and nobody could stand in your way — except maybe art. you'd heard his name echoed all around campus for how much of a tennis god he was, but now, in front of you, he presented as anything but. he was stumbling over his words and his feet introducing himself to you, all crooked smiles and awkward handshakes.

"hi. i'm art. donaldson. art donaldson. but you can just call me art, obviously you don't have to call me by my full name, that would be weird."

you couldn't help but grin, though your brows furrowed together in confusion,

"right... hi. i'm—"

"yn. i know. i'm uhh, a friend of tashi's. you were really talented out there today."

"is my friend bothering you?" came tashi's voice from around the corner. you started packing your things in your duffel bag, shaking your head with a laugh that made art's heart melt,

"no, the opposite actually."

"great," tashi grinned knowingly. "well in that case... lunch?"

it was history from there. art started showing up to all your meets, and you to his tennis games. it was cute, the way you cheered each other on and pretended it was nothing more than camaraderie and sportsmanship between friends. the way you pretended art's bicep flexing with every thwack his racket made against the tennis ball didn't make your throat run dry. the way art pretended watching you stretch on the field before a match, your shorts lifting up to reveal the expanse of skin just above your thigh didn't make him shift in his seat.

if patrick weren't with tashi, he'd probably go for you too, and art knew it. it's why he almost gets defensive when patrick comes to visit and the four of you go on these little psuedo double dates, since neither you nor art had addressed the fact that you wanted each other. he was always courteous with you, but he made sure to hold every door open for you, pull out every chair, and even paid for your food. it was like he was showing patrick that this was his girl, and it amused patrick so much that he told art,

"if you're gonna fuck her, just do it. you don't need to go getting my approval."

"i'm not trying to fuck her, pat. and i'm not getting your approval. i just... i don't know, i want her to be mine."

"i'm pretty sure she's yours already, pal. have you seen the way you two act?

it's a slow burn, but it feels so good to wait. art kisses you finally during one of your study dates together — you both only have so much time to actually focus on school as student athletes, so you spend that time together — it's soft and longing and sweet. you become something of a power couple on campus, making signs for each others' games and running up to art on the field after he's won, letting him lift you up into his arms and swing you around — never mind the trophy.

art runs ice baths for you when you need them, and lets his strong hands groove into your sore muscles, blushing at your relieved moans. he's got no problem stretching you out in other ways too, fucking you slow and deep like he's just trying to pass the time inside you, spending hours letting your pleasure unfold before him. letting your fingernails leave scars on his back because he has enough already from his sport, what's a few more?

when you have early team meetings, art makes you breakfast and sends you off with your favorite strawberry smoothies he makes. he helps you with meal prep every week, spending hours in domestic bliss with you in your on-campus apartment. when you're not studying together or sleeping together, you're at the gym together, art's hands hovering just by your hips to "help spot you" during deadlift squats.

on your media day, art helps you slick your natural hair up into a bun, aghast at how much edge control you insist on using. he also insists on teaching you to play tennis — you're vehemently against it at first, but you realize how much it actually improves your game. and you don't mind art cozying up behind you to "improve your backhand," even if it means you end up with your tennis skirt flipped over and the racket long forgotten. the same goes for art, except he just wants to curse you out after the first time you make him try uphill weighted sled sprints.

whatever you do, you do it together. you just get each other. and art knows he's found something special in you.

[boobabietch]

Chapter II: "A Rookie’s Obsession, A Legend’s Indifference: Is Diana Taurasi ready for Victoria O’Hara?” | Diana Taurasi x OC

Warnings: fight fight fight!! And a tad bit narcissistic Diana

A/N: I’m having a shitload of fun writing this lmao, so here’s another chapter I hope you like. As always English is not my first language so if you find something wrong tell me so I can change it asap, I can’t wait for y’all to read this and the next chapters I’m so excited. Likes, comments (!!!) and reblogs are highly appreciated and my ask box is always open. Love Sof :))

Making headlines masterlist

There’s a funny thing about being the best in women’s sports. People either love you or wait for you to fall. But when you’ve been around long enough, it doesn’t matter what they think. You know your place. And you protect it.

That’s what I’ve been doing since my debut in the WNBA. Owning the court. Owning the pressure. Every game, every season, everyone expects the same thing from me: perfection. Winning is never enough because when your name is Diana Taurasi, nothing is ever enough.

Then, she showed up.

Victoria O’Hara. The rookie everyone wouldn’t shut up about. Reminded me of me, hungry, talented, a little too much attitude for her own good. The first time I saw her was just before our game against San Antonio. I’d heard her name, knew she had something. But there’s a difference between hype and reality.

May 19, 2017

Game day. I could feel her eyes on me during warm-ups, it was cute honestly, I could see the gears working hard on her mind, probably wondering what it’s like to be me, to dominate the way I have. They all wonder. But what she didn’t know yet is that being good in college doesn’t mean shit here. Welcome to the W, kid.

I didn’t give her a second glance. What was there to say? Another rookie trying to prove something. I’ve seen it all. I’ve been that girl. But this one, this woman, had something extra in her. I could see it the minute the game started. Every time she took a shot, it was like she was aiming at me, if I didn’t know she wanted to rip my throat out I’d say she was in love. Every drive, every step, was a challenge.

I could hear the yelling in the crowd, I’d hear her teammates tell her to relax, feel the energy shift. People loved watching us, golden veteran vs. golden rookie. A fucking classic. O’Hara wanted to make a statement. I could tell she was on the edge, burning herself out just to prove she belonged. And every time, I’d remind her, I’ve been there. I’ve fought harder battles. If she wanted to be the next big thing, she was going to have to earn it. She was good, but I wasn’t worried. I’ve dealt with players like her before. They rise fast, burn out faster. But this one... she kept pushing.

Every game we played after that, it was like she had a personal vendetta. I couldn’t walk on the court without feeling her eyes drilling into me. She was obsessed. It was funny, really. This kid was trying so hard to beat me, to make me see her.

I saw her. I always see them coming.

July 7, 2017

We were in San Antonio. Close game. O’Hara played her heart out, I’ll give her that. But we still won. After the game, I found her slumped on the bench, wiped out. I should’ve just left her there. But something in me couldn’t resist. The kid had fire. I respected that.

“Not bad, O’Hara. Keep it up, and you might actually be a challenge someday.”

Her face said it all. She was rattled, but she had that spark. I liked seeing it. She looked at me like she was trying to figure out if I was serious. I was. Kinda. Then, she shot back:

“Someday? I’m already a problem for you.”

I almost laughed. Her confidence was impressive, misplaced, but impressive. I glanced down, smirked. Let her have that moment.

“Of course you are,” I said, walking off.

Sometimes I wonder what things would be like if I never said that, lucky for everyone I did.

July 30, 2017

Maybe I overestimated how in control I am of everything; the game, the rookie, and my body.

We were playing again, tensions running high. It was bound to happen. O’Hara wanted her moment, wanted to prove herself. And me? I wasn’t giving her an inch. Then, somewhere in the third quarter, it happened.

I saw her coming, her eyes locked on me with a mix of defiance and determination. She made a quick drive, cutting to the basket with an intensity that almost made me respect her. But I wasn’t about to let a rookie get one over on me. I slammed into her, blocking her path with enough force to knock her off balance. She hit the floor hard, her elbows scraping against the court. The whistle blew, and for a moment, I watched her lay there, her frustration almost palpable.

“Get up,” I muttered, standing over her. “You’re gonna need more than that to take me down, rook”

I saw the anger in her eyes as she pushed herself up, pressing her chest on mine. Damn, was she this tall the whole time? The way she glared at me, it was almost as if she was daring me to push her further. “You think you’re untouchable? Just fucking wait.”

My smirk didn’t waver. I’d seen that fire in rookies before, puffed up, ready to prove themselves. “I don’t think, O’Hara. I know.” I said with the most arrogant tone I owned.

“Oh you’re just a fucking bitch, aren’t you?” Before I could react further, she shoved me hard. Everyone erupted into chaos. I felt the rush of adrenaline as I moved to shove her back, but the moment I lunged, my teammates were already there, hands gripping my arms and holding me back.

O’Hara wasn’t any better off. Many of her teammates were swarming around her, trying to pull her away from me. I could see the frustration in her eyes as she struggled against their hold, her fists clenched and ready to throw.

Fun fact about fights: when you need the strength of 4 pro basketball players to hold you back, it makes you look really fucking dangerous.

We both tried to break through the human barriers restraining us. I could almost feel the impact of our fists connecting, the unfinished fight burning in my veins. But with every struggle, every strained push against the hands holding us back, the reality set in: we were not going to get to finish this here.

I didn’t care. I didn’t care about the cameras, the refs, or the impending technical. All I cared about was feeling that fire she was throwing at me. I wanted her to know what it felt like to face me, to try and break through the wall I’d built around myself.

Eventually, the refs managed to get us both under control, leading us to opposite sides of the court. As I was pulled away, I couldn’t help but glance back at O’Hara, her eyes still blazing with that same fire. Despite the chaos, a small part of me felt a twisted respect for her, a rookie who was not just willing to challenge me, but was ready to throw down if necessary.

The arena buzzed with excitement and disbelief as we were separated, but the fight between us was far from over.

That was the moment I knew this kid wasn’t going anywhere. And maybe, just maybe, I’d finally met someone who could keep up.

Little did I know.

Fucking Victoria.

"Rivalry Ignites: O’Hara and Taurasi Get into Fiery Altercation During Friday Game"

"San Antonio Stars Victoria O’Hara Adidas Grey and Black Edition Player Jersey | SOLD OUT"

Requests are Open!

Masterlist

[toastermelody]

Qualia sisters designs GO (ft shitty mockups of their donut designs)

[todayisafridaynight]

you probably won't even care about yakuza by the time the plushies are out if we go by your track record

i cant even deny this cause my interests do tend to have a shelf life of one year and it'll be one year come june

[bigender-cowboy]

Dude im thinking about my mom rn and it’s actually crazy. I broke a whole ass glass bowl and she laughed it off but my sister made brownies (I was watching her + I called mom for permission because she wasn’t home) that tasted good and I got hit????? Like?????? Wth is the logic??????

[ratatatastic]

entering to panthers pulse does go pretty hard luosty yeah

Luosty Cup Day | 8.5.24 (x)

[gu6chan]

99% just my autism speaking here but something ive been noticing lately that im sorta kinda 😶 about is when ppl are like "I think you'll like this" but not bc they ACTUALLY think you'll like it, rather they just got into it and want you to also get into it so "I think you'll like this" is a nice personal hook. i love chill stuff as much as any other person ofc but given i don't divulge that EVER, what makes you think my berserk reading, made in abyss watching, drakengard playing ass would like YURU CAMP????

[tartt9]

wwc has me thinking about jamie's playstyle a lot like. okay i guess im really into the football part of the silly football show alsjfalsfj

[violentlydefending]

riceboy sleeps fucked me UP man. fuck. legit cried like four separate times watching it i got FUCKED UP!!!!!!!!!

[kkujo]

and everything has consistently sucked since we got back from that trip.. not a week after that i got covid and was really sick the beginning of august was truly the last time i felt properly happy. word