#jawline trainer

[dramarnathandentalcare]

Top 5 Exercises for the Jawline: Tone and Define Your Look

Most people strive for a chiseled jawline because it enhances the face’s elegance and proportion. People frequently believe that this is dictated by one’s DNA. However, this is not true. You can truly work out the muscles that surround your jaw. Specific types of exercises can also be used to train the muscles in the jaw and certain parts of the neck.  In this blog, we will learn about five…

[quixot1sm]

tried to draw my version of hilbert (bw arc) as close to the pokemon style as possible while still being recognizable as My hilbert. i dont think i succeeded but it was a fun experiment nonetheless. how do people do this

[leyavo]

| On my way |

Summary: Simon needs you after a particular rough mission and you help him come back to himself.

Hurt/comfort. TW: death** I apologise in advance for this one. [masterlist] 1,233words

[Wife/gf masterlist]

It’s not often that John Price’s name lit up your phone. You rubbed your eyes, kicking the thin sheets off your legs as you sat up. A sheen of sweat coats the back of your neck, vest top sticking to you like a second skin in the summer heat. You glanced over your shoulder to the vacant space, palm smoothing over the mattress as you answer on the third ring.

“Sorry gal, Si’s not himself. Gonna need you to work your magic again, just like last time.” John’s grating voice nothing more than a scratch, as if he’s been shouting more than talking. The other end of the line silent, no banter in the background as the team make their usual jokes.

“I’m on my way.”

Simon made you a plan for quick exits, made you practice how to react without a second thought. You’re dressed and out the door in a matter of minutes, the T-shirt Simon gave you inside out but you’re too worried to care. Resetting the house alarm is muscle memory, the small bag on the crook of your elbow carrying only the necessities. Phone, charger, purse and a warm bottle water.

The drive feels painstakingly slow, the absence of cars on the road making it seem like you’re not getting anywhere. Three straight lanes of the motorway merging. The rising sun blinding you as the car crawls to a stop outside the residential house of the army base.

John’s halfway out of the door before you’re even walking down the pathway. He’s still wearing his tactical gear, bucket hat askew as he meets you in the middle.

“He’s inside, I’ve got, gotta…” he stuttered, the captain crumbling in front of you.

You nod your head, patting his arm and walking through the front door. The house gloomy, musty stench hanging in the air where the place had been left unused. You know that whatever’s lead up to this moment, no amount of words would console them. There’s no way for you to understand, because you’ve never done the things they’ve had to.

There’s always a distant part of Simon you’ll never relate to. A part he’ll suppress in order to protect you.

And that’s all to do with the mask. The one he’s never worn when he’s with you. The last time you came here, he’d already removed it thanks to the gash on his jawline needing stitches.

The dark and narrow hallway sends a shiver down your spine, the tracks of mud staining the carpet leading the way. You paused at the door ajar, a sliver of light peeking through. Slipping through the gap and into the room, you bit back your gasp.

Simon’s perched on the edge of the bed, head hung low and shoulders hunched as he picked at the skin around his fingernails. The dim lamp casting shadows on the skull mask covering his face, but you can see those downcast eyes. A glimpse of the man behind it.

His gear dumped by his mud coated boots, vest and hoody strewn across the creased bedding. Red coats his bare arms and hands, you can’t even tell if it’s his or someone else’s.

“Simon.” You say his name more like asking a question, wondering if he’s your husband or Ghost still on a mission. Someone you don’t know.

You stood at least a foot away from him, learning the hard way last time when you’d moved too fast and ended up pressed against the wall. No, you’d let him come to you even it if took all day.

“John called me.”

His body curled in more and his broad shoulders trembled. You took a step forward and he stilled, head lifting a fraction to your discoloured trainers. He nodded ever so slightly, acknowledging your presence.

“I’m just going to stay here with you,” you said, closing the gap between you and him, toe to toe. The open window behind you sent a warm breeze through the room, the baggy T-shirt that swamped you billowing towards his clasped hands.

You sunk to your knees, your hands taking his before he resumed the picking. It took everything in you not to move as his head snapped up and you finally got to see the mask. Even the stitching on the centre running down the crown of his head put you off. The cracked ivory skull staring back at you. It’s hard to recognise a semblance of your husband eyes, there’s a shadow of darkness looming over them as his features remain unmoving. Waiting for you to move too fast or say the wrong thing.

Simon’s forehead pushed against yours, the rough skull of his mask digging into your skin. His hand grabbed yours and he lifted it to rest it on the nape of neck. A silent plea for you to help him remove it. It’s gritty and rough under your touch, as if it’s been dragged through a burning building. The Smokey stench stinging your nostrils.

“It’s okay,” your whispered voice trembled as his hand dropped to the bed like a dead weight. The thump drawing you to stand back up as you pulled the mask over his head. The black material tracing his forehead and crooked nose as you gently tugged it off. A mess of blonde hair skimming his thick brows.

“I couldn’t…” his words stopping short as his fists clenched on top of his knees. The scabs on his knuckles tearing open and weeping blood.

“You don’t have to do anything, it’s over.”

You hooked your finger under his chin and lifted his face. His lashes clumped, tears leaving track marks down the grime dusting his skin. The hem of your T-shirt twisted in his grasp as he tugged you closer to stand between his legs.

The top of his head leant against your stomach, the curve of his shoulder blades shifting underneath his dirty shirt. You combed your fingers through his blonde hair, his palms cupping the back of your thighs as if you’d fall back a step and he’d lose you. You’d never seen him so small. The way he hunched over and shrunk away from your gaze each time he tried to speak.

“I’m right here Simon.”

You can’t bring yourself to think of the horrors he’s witnessed, can’t begin to think how it’s only the second time he’s been like this. Breaks your heart to think he probably did it alone before you.

“I couldn’t get to him…” he sniffed glancing up at you, arms wrapping around your waist and head burying into the crook of your neck. “Johnny he just went down.” A sob tore from his throat and his whole body shuddered against yours.

And that’s when you realised why John hadn’t stayed. Why Simon had reacted at the sound of his name, as if he expected you to say Johnny and not John. Why the rest of the task force wasn’t hanging around the house.

It wasn’t Simon’s vest on the bed, it was Johnny’s. His blood staining your husband’s arms, as if he held his friend till his last breaths.

The last time Simon had struggled to come back to himself, he’d seen someone hit by a bomb. Now it was the death of his friend.

You’re not sure if he’ll ever come back from this loss.

“He was just lying there…”

❤️‍🩹 I apologise for whatever I’ve just wrote - Leya

[yelenasbraid]

JOE BURROW — maintaining professionalism [ pt. 7 ]

series summary — She’s a witty, stubborn athletic trainer for the Cincinnati Bengals. He’s the star quarterback who can’t take his eyes off of her. The more she works with him, the stronger the magnetic pull. She’ll do anything to maintain professionalism, and he’ll do anything to get the girl.

chapter summary — He finally gets the chance to show her how often he thinks about her.

warnings — fem!reader, SMUT (MDNI ‼️), fluff, joe is so horny my god

note — sorry for the late update! i’ve been grinding for the past few hours and wanted to get it out before i overthought too much. pls enjoy!!

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6

tags — @starsinthesky5 @definitelynotdomanique @majestic87 @joeyfranchise @joeyburrrow @joeyb1989 @belleann23 @wickedfun9 @hannahjessica113 @kravitzwhore @musicforsnoopy @burreauxsss @grandpeachpersona @inlovewithcarsthatrunreallyfast @noeesd19 @burrowswomen @xbriexx @grittysbiggestfan @dboanalagoaaoo @harryweeniee @kazsbrckkers @wellwellhereiam @hotburreaux

“JOE,” SHE MOANED, his lips peppering down her jawline, down to her neck, “not here,”

“Then where?” he hummed against her neck. His hands gripped her hips, massaging her through the fabric of her clothes. Her mind was blurred, her neck tilted, revealing more of her beautiful skin.

Joe was supposed to go home after she confessed her feelings for him. He was supposed to get rest, to heal the parts of his body that were sore from the game. After she’d confessed, he didn’t think about anything else. All he wanted was her.

Which led him to keeping her in his arms, his lips peppering down her body, outlets for the pent up desire that raged through him.

“I don’t know,” she whispered, one of her hands digging into his curls, her fingers pressing into his scalp. A low, soft moan vibrated against her skin.

“My place,” Joe decided, his teeth nipping at a sensitive spot on her neck. Her breath hitched, her fingers tightening around his curls.

“Yeah, sounds good,” she breathed, her eyes rolling into the back of her head as his lips sucked at her skin. Her body ached, tendrils of warmth latching onto her nerves and pulling her closer to Joe. Her pussy throbbed, swelling at the mere thought of having Joe in the most intimate of ways.

timeskip — at Joe’s house

His house was beautiful. Warm, bright lights illuminated the door as Joe stepped up to unlock it. He led her inside, keeping his hand intertwined with hers.

His heart thudded against his chest. He shouldn’t be nervous, but it was her. The woman he’d fallen for, the one who’d managed to wiggle her way into his heart. He didn’t want to let her go, and he wanted her in ways that were unprofessional.

Yet he didn’t care.

He led her into the bedroom, the moonlight streaming through the curtains. He shut the door behind them with a soft click, their breaths only filling the room. He stepped up to her, watching as she looked up at him.

Her eyes are sparkling. They’re beautiful as they look up at him, twinkling with the shared desire they both felt. He backed her onto the bed and she laid against the plush mattress. Her heart is racing, her skin warm as he hovers over her.

It’s the moment they’ve both been waiting for. The months of tension that led to this very moment, the warm intimacy that coursed through their veins. Joe settled down on his elbows and captures her lips in a slow, sensual kiss. She inhaled deeply through her nose, her arms looping around his neck. His lips were warm, slotting perfectly against hers. It ignited her body, her nerves wired with the need that wound in her gut.

Joe pulled away, but only to pepper kisses down her jawline and down her neck. She tasted so sweet, and the soft breaths she gave him fueled the fire in his gut. One of his hands threaded through her hair, gently tugging her head to the side. Her eyes were closed, lips parted with the breaths that left her lungs.

With every kiss, he grew more desperate. His fingers moved to the hem of her shirt, his skin brushing with hers. Tingles prickled her skin as his hands dove under her shirt, pushing the fabric over her bra-clad breasts. He parted from her neck, leaving her breathless. He tugged the shirt from her body, his lips kissing her cleavage.

“Beautiful,” Joe hummed against her skin, his tongue darting between her breasts. His hands slid around her back, popping the strap of her bra free. Ever so carefully, his touch light and tender, he slid her bra off of her shoulders, freeing her breasts from the cloth. His hands slid to settle on her hips, tugging at the fabric of her shorts. The anticipation was killing him, the ache that pulsed in his cock drove the desperation that ignited his veins.

She watched as his lips pressed to the soft skin of her stomach, his tongue tracing her skin. The velvet of his tongue against her skin grew goosebumps on her body. The ache in her pussy intensified, throbbing in sweet intimacy. His eyes flicked up to meet hers, his body glowing in the dim light of the room. His fingers pried down her shorts, sliding them down her legs. His lips met hers inner thighs, inhaling the sweet musk of her arousal.

There was no waiting. Not when she looked this good, not when her muscles were outlined by the shadows of the room. Joe pried her panties from her body, her slick sticking to the crotch of her panties. He tossed them aside, kissing her inner thighs again.

“Joe,” her voice was a desperate, silky plea. His touches were incendiary, shocking her nerves. His fingers slid up her folds, collecting her arousal onto his fingers. He felt his cock twitch at how sticky and wet she was, at the sounds she made. She shuddered, her eyes fighting to stay open as she propped herself on her elbows. His eyes were dark, twinkling with his lust.

“So wet for me,” he murmured before his lips met the sweetness of her folds. His tongue flicked over her, collecting the arousal she produced. His hands stayed on her thighs, keeping them open. Her moans, simple yet so beautiful, shot down to his cock, making it twitch in his shorts.

His tongue slid up to her clit, flicking the sensitive bud. He closed his lips around her, his tongue massaging the sensitive bundle of nerves. The burn that he produced, the way her stomach shuddered with the pressure of a building release made her moan. Her hands clenched the sheets, her back arched beautifully against the bed. Her legs shivered with his touch, threatening to close around his head.

“Fuck,” she breathed, every flick of his tongue, every time he dove between her folds to taste her, it pushed her closer to the edge of the knife. One of her hands threaded through his curls, tugging at his hair as his ministrations continued. She tasted amazing, a sweet musk that he needed injected into his veins. His eyes slowly slid up to hers, hooded with the high she was giving him.

He pulled away, strings of her arousal leaving his lips. He used a thumb to wipe his lips, kissing back up her body. He captured her lips with his, this time it filled with hunger. She moaned against his lips, the ache that ignited her body. She tasted herself, the sweet and salty sensation burning her tongue. She tugged him closer, her body shivering as her taste slid down her throat.

He pulled away, shedding off his shirt. His body glowed in the moonlight. His skin was beautiful, and her fingers brushed over his skin. His fingers worked the hem of his shorts, stripping him of his boxers and shorts. Her eyes flicked to his cock, how angry and red and big he was. Before she could have any sort of reaction, he lowered himself onto her, kissing her again. Her body shivered, feeling the hardness of his cock brush against her swollen pussy. She moaned, grinding her hips against his.

“Shit,” he moaned against her lips. His body was electrified, wired with the aches that coursed through him. He rested his forehead against hers, one of his hands stroking his hard and sensitive cock. He lined himself up with her, flicking the head of his cock against her clit. She gasped, the burn so good she felt her muscles tense.

“You ready?” he asked her, and she only nodded. He guided his tip in, and his hands settled on her hips as he pushed himself in. His lips parted, soft grunts leaving his lungs. She arched her back, his cock stretching the plushness of her walls. His hands gripped her hips, his lips still ghosting over hers.

She was so tight, pulsing around his cock with her need. Her pussy was wet, slick with the arousal he’d conjured up with his touch and his tongue.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his chest heaving with his breaths. She felt so right, so good, and he could feel every throb of her pussy around his cock.

She let her eyes slide closed, strangled moans leaving her parted lips. Her mind went hazy, her hands gripping the sheets as he pushed into her, his curls brushing against her forehead.

It took her a moment. He stretched her, the burn created by his cock had her heart racing, her teeth gritted together with both pain and pleasure. She always figured Joe was packing, but feeling it inside of her was a different world itself.

“God,” she breathed, “yes, yes I’m ok,”

Her words were sweet to his ears. His body was pressed against hers, his nose brushing her cheek. He flexed his hips, starting with slow, deliberate thrusts. Their breaths mingled, whines strung together as he thrusted into her.

“Fuck,” he moaned, her walls clenching around his cock, squeezing him, begging him for more.

“Joe,” she whispered, her arms lazily wrapped around his neck. His name sounded heavenly falling from her lips, a prayer to him. He responded, his hips snapping a little faster against hers. Her mind went hazy, her jaw slack with the moans that spilled from her throat.

“God, you sound so beautiful,” Joe murmured as he kissed her jawline, his eyelashes tickling her skin. She couldn’t form words, his thrusts taking them from her. The sweetness of his movements rippled through her body, ignited her blood as it flowed through her veins. Her lips were parted, her back arched into his chest. His hands held her sides, his lips brushing against her jawline.

“Joe,” she breathed, a desperate and silky sound that wrapped him in a blanket. His hips moved against hers, his cock hitting her g-spot at a perfect angle. Her walls clenched around him, the sweetness of her building orgasm making her whine. Her arms wrapped around his back, her nails digging into the taut and thick muscle of his back.

“Gonna come for me, pretty girl?” He growled in her ear, his lips brushing against her ear. She shuddered, the pressure pressing down on her lower abdomen, adding to the pleasure his cock was thrusting into her. Her legs squirmed, bending and shaking, the moonlight catching the muscle of her thighs.

“Yes,” she breathed, her head pressing against the pillow. Joe’s eyes flicked from her ear to watch her face. Her eyes were closed, her hair displayed around her head like a halo, but in this moment she was no angel. Her forehead creased with her concentration, the moonlight catching the beauty of her skin. His eyes darkened, his own pleasure building as he thrusted into her, his cock buried so deep he could feel every part of her pussy around him. Every second he fucked her, the closer she brought him to his own orgasm.

“Come for me, pretty girl,” he hummed, his lips brushing against her temple, “wanna watch you,”

Her nails dug into his back, her body coiled so tight she thought she was gonna explode. His thrusts were so deep, pushing against the plush of her walls. She whined, shuddering as she finally tensed. She twitched, a moan ripping from her throat as her orgasm snapped over her. It was hot, all consuming.

Joe shuddered as he felt her come around him. It took everything in him to hold back his own orgasm. He gritted his teeth together, but his eyes watched her. Her lips, parted with her moans, her sides heaving against his hands, his fingers leaving indents in her skin. He slid his hand up her body, gently grabbing her chin. He angled her face down, slotting his lips against hers.

“So fucking good,” he murmured against her lips. She moaned into his mouth, her skin hot and slick with sweat. She kept her arms around him, her hands sliding up to cup his face. His lips were hot, nipping at her bottom lip, his tongue brushing her teeth. She tangled her fingers in his hair, tugging at the curls.

“I’m not done,” he growled against her lips, “gonna make you scream for me,”

The promise in his tone made her shiver. It caused her nerves to prickle and her pussy to throb. Joe pulled out of her, his lips leaving hers. He looked down at her, raising himself up on his hands. She watched him, his muscles popped with his weight. The shadows danced across his body, illuminating the muscles she knew he worked so hard for. He was delectable.

His hands guided her body, turning her onto her side. She went to roll onto her stomach, but his hand stopped her.

“I’ve got you where I want you,” he promised her, leaning over her and kissing her shoulder. Her stomach fluttered, her eyes cast to the wall in front of her. He had her on her side, his hand rotating her hip. He placed her leg over his shoulder, stretching her quad. His eyes roved over her skin, watching as the moonlight highlighted her muscles and the wetness that dripped out of her pussy.

His hands ran along her legs, his touch prickling her skin. Her breath hitched, the stretch in her legs adding to the thrill in her gut. Her thighs shuddered under his hands, his callouses scratching against her smooth, toned muscles.

“Absolutely gorgeous,” Joe mused as he pressed his lips to her calf, his eyes cast down to her body, contorted to his liking. His other hand reached down, the touch against his cock made him hiss. He had to control himself; he was going to make her fall apart and scream before he got his own pleasure.

Consider it a selfless act.

Joe lined his tip with her entrance, circling the rim before he pushed himself in again. Joe threw his head back, his right hand gripping her thigh over his shoulder, his left attached to her hip. He didn’t give her much wait time, his hips rocking against hers. She gasped, her body jerking with the increasing pace of Joe’s hips. She reached out with her hands, gripping the sheets as his hand gripped her thigh.

“Shit,” she moaned. His cock hit her in a whole new spot, her sensitivity from her previous orgasm shattering her nerves. She looked up, Joe’s face loose with bliss. His lips were parted, the moonlight perfectly catching his muscles. He was a greek god in his element, and she was his muse.

His thrusts were relentless, the bed rocking with his movements. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, his cock hitting her g-spot in the most perfect of ways. He was hot, his thrusts wet with her arousal and his pre-cum. His hand moved to the under side of her thigh, pushing it towards her body. She whined, the stretch burning her body. His pace increased, skin slapping against skin, balls deep into her pussy.

“My pretty girl,” Joe leaned over her, his hand moving up her stomach, his fingers wrapping around one of her breasts. He kissed her shoulder, his voice gruff with his pleasure. His body was hot, the pressure building in his body threatening to spill over. He held it back, his teeth sinking into her shoulder. She moaned, her body shuddering again. He knew what that meant, and he smirked against her skin.

“Joe,” she whimpered, her body hot and coiled so tight she couldn’t think. Her heart slammed in her chest, making her squirm. Her leg tightened over his shoulder, her heel digging into his back.

“Wanna hear you,” he murmured as he pulled from her skin, “come for me,”

The rubber band snapped, her second orgasm washing over her in waves. Her body folded, her lips parted with the whimpers that left her lips. Her body burned, her pussy throbbing with the slick that slipped out of her. She felt her stomach cramp, her thighs shaking. Joe pulled out, making her hiss. Her nerves were frayed, her body overstimulated. She flipped onto her stomach, her hands stretching above her head. Her back muscles glowed in the moonlight, and Joe needed a minute. He tilted his head back, taking controlling breaths.

If he looked down at her right then, he’d paint her with his cum. He didn’t want to come yet, he wanted to have his way with her one more time. His eyes slowly looked back down at her, her back arched and her hands stretched above her head.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he growled, his hands grabbing her hips. His hands ran up her sides, his body leaning over hers, his lips finding her neck. His hands caressed her sides, sliding up her arms, finding her hands. He interlocked their fingers, kissing her neck.

“Joe,” she moaned into the pillow. Her thighs shuddered, her body burning with a mixture of arousal and exhaustion. It made for the perfect cocktail, and Joe planned on taking everything she had to give him.

“One more time, sweet girl,” he whispered into her ear, his teeth grazing her skin, “you can take it,”

“Joe-”

“You can take it,” he assured her, “I know you can,”

She trembled, his hands running back down her body. Prickles were left in his wake, her skin shivering. His hands grabbed her hips, his lips kissing between her shoulder blades. She flexed, and Joe licked his lips. Her back muscles were beautiful, and he loved how strong she was. Her personality matched her body; strong and beautiful.

He sat up, grabbing her hips. His fingers pressed into her body, firm and tight. His heart thudded in his chest, his breaths heavy and thick. His cock twitched, his need for his release almost painful. He bit his lip, one hand moving to her hair. His fingers dug into her strands, pulling her back. She whined, but not because she was in pain. It didn’t hurt, but she felt the ache in her body. Her back arched, coiled tighter than she’s ever been bent before.

His other hand guided his tip in, her wet and gummy walls sucking him in. He groaned, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. He immediately picked a relentless pace. His hand moved to hold her hip, his other hand hoisting her head further back. His thrusts were brutal, creating a burning sensation in the depth of her pussy. She moaned, her fingers digging into the plush of the mattress.

“Feels so good,” he moaned, his eyes closed. He fought off his own pleasure, even as her walls clenched and pulsed around his cock. He whimpered, his hand tightening in her hair. Her back was coiled so tight it stung, but she didn’t argue with it. She was his muse, his all-consuming thought.

No words materialized. Her brain was grey, foggy with the static of his movements. She whimpered, her back arched, her body jerking with the force of his thrusts. He fucked her deep, hitting every corner of her vagina. The room was thick, hot with their intimacy. Her skin was hot against his, his hand gripping her hip with a bruising force.

Without warning, she snapped. She cried, her moans loud and filled with both her shock and the burn of her orgasm. The wetness of her release coated the grooves he’d fucked into her walls. She whimpered, her body sore. Joe immediately pulled out, flipping her over. He needed release, he needed to make her his masterpiece.

She looked up at him, her body squirming on the bed. Her body ached, her muscles sore and twitchy. Her eyes were blurry with her pleasure, but she caught his movements. His hand wrapped around his cock, pumping himself. She watched as his cum, hot and milky, released onto her stomach. Her breath hitched, her eyes flicking up to his face. His head was thrown back, his whimpers filling the room. His hand continued, his cum squirting onto her body. He squeezed the last little bit out of his tip, and he lulled his head back forwards.

She reached out, dipping her finger into the milky substance on her stomach. She slid her finger into her mouth just as he laid over her body. He tasted salty, tinges of sweetness in his cum that made her shiver. She removed her finger, her eyes locking onto his. Her muscles shuddered, his forehead pressed against hers. His breaths were heavy, hot with his exhaustion. His body ached, his heart slamming in his chest. He could hear the blood rushing in his ears, his eyes closed.

Her muscles twitched, sore with his intimacy. His hands slowly slid up her body, his fingers intertwining with hers. She whimpered, her body pulsing with the overstimulation that ripped through her muscles.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice hoarse with the force of his orgasm. His muscles still trembled, but he knew she felt the brunt of it all.

“Yeah,” she breathed, her nose brushing his, “perfect,”

Her words made him smile. He kissed her, a gentle and tender expression of his affection for her. He pulled away, keeping his forehead against hers. He let the moment sit, the quiet of the room wrapping around them. His mind finally screwed back in, his thoughts filing back.

He finally had her.

The one he’s wanted for months.

“Y/N,” he hummed, his eyes opening and peering down her. Her eyes peeled open, the beauty of her expression smoothing over his frayed nerves. He reached up with his free hand and caressed her cheek.

“Good thing it’s the offseason, right?” she whispered with a small smile, and Joe let out a huff of air. As intense as their intimacy was, he didn’t want to let her go. He didn’t want this to be an offseason hookup. He wanted her. Every day.

“I don’t want this to be an offseason thing,” he admitted, wrapping his arms around her.

“I don’t either,” she admitted, her eyes filled with nothing but affection for him. He was beautiful, his cheeks flushed with the efforts of their intimacy. She wanted to have him every day, in every domestic moment. She wanted to come home to him, to enjoy the warmth of his presence.

But she couldn’t. Not with her current position.

“We’ll figure it out,” Joe promised. He knew what she was thinking. He was thinking the same thing. She broke her contract that night, she broke her promise to the Bengals franchise. As of right now, no one knew. But Joe knew it would only be a matter of time.

“I know,” she whispered, “but I don’t want to think about it right now,” she admitted. Joe gave her a soft expression, leaning up and kissing her forehead. He moved his lips down and kissed her sweetly on her lips. He sighed, her lips soft and warm, slotted perfectly against his.

He pulled away, sinking down beside her. He tugged her into his embrace, his hands roaming her back. Her skin was soft, flinching with her sensitivity. Joe kissed the top of her head, giving her a comforting squeeze.

“You sure I didn’t go too hard?” he asked, and her gruff chuckle lit his heart up.

“I’m sure,” she assured him, peeking up at him. Her eyes were so beautiful, sparkling with the affection she felt. Her heart swelled, her mind fuzzy with her feelings. Her butterflies flew about, making her stomach churn. The sensations she felt were reflected in his eyes, the emotions that swam behind her eyes also swam behind his.

He was in love with her. His muse. His goddess.

“Okay,” he hummed, kissing the top of her head again. Silence spread across them, settling overtop of them like a blanket. The AC ran over their bodies, cooling the heat of their skin and solidifying the sweat that stuck to their bodies.

He’d always choose her. She’d always choose him. No contract or professional expectation could keep them apart. As she laid her head against his chest, and as his chin rested on her head, they both silently agreed to never leave each other’s side. They didn’t know what that looked like, there was a lot they didn’t know. But that wasn’t for them to think about.

All they knew is that they needed each other like the air they breathed, and that was enough.

[nanamincreampie]

Personal trainer Toji

Toji Fushiguro x black plus size reader

Warning; 18+ mdni, mentions of pussy eating and exhibitionism

(inspired by @classyrbf 's personal trainer Gojo)

Personal Trainer!Toji who you didn’t expect to take your breath away the moment you walked into the gym. His towering frame, the sharp cut of his jawline, and the faint scar trailing over his lips had you weak in the knees before your first rep. His dark eyes held a teasing glint, and his smirk only deepened when he noticed your reaction.

Personal Trainer!Toji who watches as you step onto the gym floor in your coordinated set, a sleek wine-colored sports bra that hugs your full chest and high-waisted leggings sculpting your thick thighs and round hips. He lets out a low whistle, murmuring, “Looking good, mama,” as his gaze lingers just a second too long on your soft tummy.

Personal Trainer!Toji who says he’s “hands-on,” guiding your form by placing his large, calloused hands on your waist, fingers brushing the curve of your lower back. “Relax your shoulders,” he instructs, voice low and smooth, as his hands linger a little longer than necessary.

Personal Trainer!Toji who takes every chance to showcase his strength, bench-pressing more weight than you thought humanly possible. The sight of his veined forearms and rippling abs glistening with sweat has your face heating, and when he smirks, wiping his brow with his tank top, you know he caught you staring.

Personal Trainer!Toji who schedules a private nighttime session just for you. The gym is empty, the dim lighting creating an intimate atmosphere. You show up in your favorite black set that highlights your chocolate-brown skin, the fabric clinging to your curves like a second skin. His eyes sweep over you, and his grin turns devilish. “Let’s see what you’re really made of, mama.”

Personal Trainer!Toji who has you stretching on a mat, one of your thick legs propped up on his broad shoulder. His hand firmly grips your calf, pushing it gently toward your chest. The stretch pulls a low hiss from your lips, and his rough voice fills your ears, “Feel that? Good. Keep breathing for me, baby.”

Personal Trainer!Toji who doesn’t hide his gaze as it roams over your soft thighs and the curve of your ass. His thumb grazes your skin, tracing patterns that send shivers down your spine. “This flexibility’s gonna come in handy,” he mutters, his breath warm against your knee.

Personal Trainer!Toji who loses his professionalism completely when he sees the faint outline of your panties beneath your leggings. His control snaps, and before you can blink, he’s got you pinned to the mat. His lips crash into yours, claiming you in a kiss so heated you forget about every boundary.

Personal Trainer!Toji who peels your leggings off with agonizing slowness, growling low in his throat when he sees your soft curves bare before him. “Goddamn,” he murmurs, his hands kneading your plush thighs. “You’re perfect.”

Personal Trainer!Toji who takes his time worshipping you, his mouth leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses along your stretch marks, your tummy, and the dip of your waist. His voice is a sinful growl, “You don’t even know what you do to me, do you?”

Personal Trainer!Toji who buries his face between your legs, devouring you with a fervor that leaves you sobbing his name. His tongue circles your clit expertly, alternating between sucking and licking while his thick fingers stretch you just right. “So sweet, baby,” he groans, his voice muffled by your thighs. “Gimme another one.”

Personal Trainer!Toji who presses you against the wall in the showers, the water cascading over both of you as he thrusts into you deeply, his hands gripping the flesh of your hips as if grounding himself. He praises you between rough kisses, “That’s it, princess. Taking me so well.”

Personal Trainer!Toji who insists on “training” at his apartment now, where he has more privacy to truly indulge in you. He pushes you to your limits in every way possible, but nothing compares to how he challenges you in his bed,his favorite kind of cardio.

[azzifuddfanpage]

so competitive

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hi guys new fic! Thanks for the prompt: Smut since they are both so competitive, maybe like them competing to see who can get each other off faster or more?

2.5k words tw: hella smut

theme: competitive gfs

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Azzi reclined her seat as far as it went.

“No way you are actually going to sleep right now.” Paige huffed in disbelief reaching over and tugging at one of Azzi’s braids. 

“I told you, if you were gonna spend all your time talking to her tonight… you’re not getting nothing.” Azzi pouted, closing her eyes and angling herself so she was facing the window. 

Paige glanced away from the road to look at the lump beside her. 

“First of all, she was literally my trainer Azzi. Second of all, you know damn well you won’t last long, you know I always make you finish fast.” Paige teased, rubbing her hand along her thigh, listening to Azzi’s breath shift as it grew closer to where she needed her most. 

Azzi snorted, “wanna bet?” She said competitively, sizing her up as they pulled into the driveway of their dorm. 

“I bet I can make you finish faster.” Azzi said, grabbing Paige's hand and moving it upward so it was resting on her breast. 

Paige looked over, gulping as she could feel Azzi’s hardened nipple through the thin material of her tank top. 

Her lips curved into a smile as she let herself squeeze the fatty tissue a little, smirking as Azzi let out a breathy moan. 

“Oh trust me. I know I can make you finish first.” Paige said confidently, rubbing her finger over her nipple that was now poking through her  shirt. 

“Alright we will see about that.” Azzi said smartly, shoving Paige's hand away and climbing out of the car.

When they got up to the dorm, Paige shoved Azzi onto her bed, and locked the door behind them.

“Alright wait.” Azzi started, putting a finger against Paige's needy lips before she was able to go to work on her. “We need some ground rules.” She continued. “We can each make one move, we go for the same amount of time, and then we will see who cums first.” Azzi finished running her finger along Paige's bottom lip and  pulling it down gently. 

Paige licked her finger and sucked it into her mouth seductively, letting her cheeks hollow out as she bobbed up and down on it, coating it fully in her saliva. 

“Deal, but only cuz I know ur not gonna wanna wait.” Paige smirked, pulling her mouth off her finger and admiring it as it glistened in the light. 

Azzi felt her knees grow weak under her- no way was she gonna give in this soon.

“Alright- my turn.” Azzi said, sitting up in the bed so she was facing her. 

Azzi moved towards her, pushing her down so she was on the bed, she slid her hands under her shirt and felt herself come in contact with her hardened nipples. 

“No bra huh?” Azzi teased, rolling one under her fingers, watching as Paige's eyes rolled back. 

“Take it off Paigey.” She whispered in her ear. 

Paige almost gave in but remembered how worth it would be to win….

“Hey no, it’s my turn now, you touching me was your turn.” Paige said, shoving Azzi’s hands away from her, fighting the bubbling urges in her panties. 

“Bruh.” Azzi said irritably, glaring at Paige as she smirked at her. 

“Don’t bruh me, princess.” She said, leaning over her and sucking on the sweet spot on her neck. 

“You know I know you better than anyone baby.” Paige said in between sucks, placing soft kisses along her jawline.

“Wild you would even wanna make a bet wit me when you know what I can do to you.” She paused, pulling the collar of Azzi’s shirt lower so she could press a kiss lower on her neck. “The way I can make you moan like no one else is in the dorm.” then another one over her clavicle. 

“The way I-“ Azzi squirmed under Paige, cutting her off. 

“Alright alright- times up.” She said laughing at the way Paige's eyes were completely dilated for her and her a trial of spit was connecting to her chest. 

Azzi ran her fingers through paige’s hair, trying to forget the need that was building in her core, and she hovered her lips over paige’s, watching as paige puckered hers for her so needily. 

Azzi smirked, giving in and mushing their lips together, letting her tongue slide out and run over Paige's lip begging for entry. 

Paige obliged, letting her lips part gently so Azzi could slide her tongue in and massage it against Paige's. 

The sounds of their wet tongues working against each other filled the air.

Azzi was so turned on, she couldn’t even think straight, unintentionally moving her leg which just happened to be between paige’s. 

Her knee dug into Paige's crotch, and Paige let out a sharp moan at the unexpected pressure on her clothed pussy. 

“Fuck” paige groaned, letting herself grind down on Azzi’s thigh for a moment, before regrettably pulling off. 

“Only one thing I said-“ Paige growled wrapping her hand teasingly around Azzi’s throat- gently so she wouldn’t hurt her.” Azzi smirked under her, proud of how worked up she was.

“Paige moved her hand down and let it travel down to her waist band, and moved her finger letting it rub against the edge, traveling her fingers down the seam. 

“Need you to be a good girl az and follow the rules.” Paige said, watching as Azzi’s head lulled back as Paige's fingers grazed over her clothed center. 

“Fuck.” Azzi groaned. 

Paige smirked, noticing azzis reaction, clearing a mixture of the added pressure and her words. 

“You like that baby.” Paige tested, moving her lips down so they were pressing into her lower stomach above her waist band. 

“You like it when I tell you how good you are, pretty girl?” She asked, running her fingers up and down Azzi’s inner thighs.

“Fuck paige, you feel so good.” Azzi moaned, feeling Paige's words go directly into her core. 

“I know baby- you like it when I talk to you like this don’t you.” She started, moving her fingers back up over her pussy, and back to the waist band to toy with it. 

Azzi was about to surrender, give in to the praise, but pulled herself away. 

“You really didn’t think you would win that easily.” Azzi laughed as Paige's fingers danced  at the distance between them, needing to be against Azzi’s heat.

Azzi straddled Paige, letting herself grind down on her, rubbing her clothed pussy against Paige's.

Paige let out a shaken breath as Azzi moved her hips.

Azzi smirked at Paige's needy reactions, grabbing her knee and propping it up so their legs were interwoven together and they were practically riding each other.

“Fuck- love it when you touch me like that pretty.” Paige groaned as the breath she was holding released.

Azzi felt herself melt under Paige's words. 

She whined a little, blushing as Paige's glossy eyes scanned over her.

“Shit you really like it when I baby you don’t you.” Paige tested, moving her hands so they were preventing Azzi from grinding against her pussy, but instead onto her hand. 

“You fucking slut.” Paige laughed as she could feel her wetness through the tight material of Azzi’s leggings. 

“You’re such a sucker for praise aren’t you baby.” Paige said, rubbing her fingers against Azzi’s heat, listening as Azzi moaned loudly. 

Paige chuckled, grabbing at Azzi’s back and pulling her closer to her chest, whispering into her ear, “you can give in whenever baby- lemme feel you.” 

Azzi let out another moan, feeling the wetness between her thighs increase. 

Azzi nodded reluctantly, letting Paige pull off her pants.

“Your turn.” She said, stubbornly.

Paige smirked, 

“Only one who can touch me pretty.” She teased, pulling off her pants and boxers so she was completely naked.

Azzi moaned at the sight of her naked cunt.

“Wanna taste you so bad.” Azzi whined under her gaze.

“I know baby- why don’t you just be a good girl for mommy and let me win and then you can taste me all you want.” 

Azzi rolled her eyes defiantly, even though all she wanted to do was feel Paige's sopping cunt against her lips. 

Paige leaned forward placing her hand against the soft flesh of Azzi’s pussy, gently running it through her folds.

She pulled her fingers back, separating them in front of Azzi’s face, letting her watch as the cum dripped down in front of them. 

“I know no one makes you like I do.” Paige smirked, moving the fingers towards Azzi’s mouth.

Azzi obliged, sucking down on them, moaning as she tasted herself on Paige's fingers.

Paige smirked as Azzi ran her tongue over them, flicking it against her, letting her spit spill down the side of Paige's finger.

Paige made eye contact with her, focusing on her movements, and bringing her spit coated finger to her own mouth, sucking it gently.

Azzi moaned, watching her.

Paige smirked, grabbing her hips and grinding her down against her bare clit. 

Both girls let out a loud moan at the contact, moaning as their pussies melded together. 

Paige’s hips bared down on Azzi’s, feeling as their clits pushed together.

“You feel so good baby.” Paige whined, applying more pressure to Azzi’s hips so she was rubbing against her at a harder angle.

Azzi replied with a gentle moan, feeling their slick grow between them.

“Turn around.” Paige said confidently, stopping herself from grinding into Azzi. 

Azzi was confused, her hips hovering over Paige's, desperate for more contact.

“I’m not gonna say it again. Turn around.” Paige ordered softly, moving her hands so Azzi could turn around on her.

“Now we really will see who finishes first.” Paige said teasingly, running her fingers against Azzi’s ass which was now in her face. 

Azzi moaned, realizing what Paige was trying to do.

She looked in front of her at Paige's throbbing cunt. 

She backed herself up, inching her own pussy up to Paige's mouth, feeding it to her, as she bent down to lick at Paige's. 

Paige let out a moan at the contact, sending a rush of cool air into Azzi’s cunt.

Paige grubbed at Azzi’s hips as Azzi’s lips attached around her soaking clit. 

Paige moaned loudly into azzi, running her fingers against her core, pressing a kiss at her entrance.

Azzi felt the warmth of Paige's tongue against her hole, leaning forward she ran her fingers through Paige's slick as her tongue flicked against her clit.

Paige, behind her, followed her every movement, puppeting what she did and attacking her pussy with her mouth.

Paige shook her head against her, letting her tongue wiggle against her pussy, feeling Azzi squirm under her.

Paige slipped her tongue inside Azzi, feeling around her warm cervix, as she separated her ass with her hands.

Azzi moaned into her clit, causing Paige to speed up, thrusting her tongue in and out of Azzi.

“Fuck I love it when you touch me like that.” Azzi whined, running her fingers against Paige, and slipping them into her hole to keep up with Paige's motions.

Paige's legs spread farther apart at the contact, feeling Azzi thrust against her. She moaned, sending vibrations through Azzi’s cunt. 

Azzi felt herself getting worked up, the feeling of paige fucking into her, causing her to push harder agaisnt paige, driving her fingers deeper into her.

Paige moaned, speeding up her own pace, fucking her tongue into her harshly, and moving her thumb to massage her clit. 

Neither of them would cum until the other did. 

“Fuck I honestly don’t know if I can hold it much longer.” Azzi said disappointedly, not wanting to lose, but the pressure against her clit, feeling of Paige's tongue hitting deep against her walls, and the taste of Paige's cum was all too much for her.

“Fuck me either baby.” Paige responded, her breath coming out in gasps as she pulled her tongue out and lapped up some of the cum that was spilling out.

Before Azzi could catch her breath, and focus on pleasing Paige, Paige's fingers dove back into her, thrusting into her with such speed that Azzi’s fingers gripped at Paige's walls to stabilize herself, hitting her g spot as she did.

Paige moaned, feeling her walls tighten as her fingers pounded into Azzi’s pussy.

Azzi could feel Paige tighten around her fingers, it getting harder to thrust in and out. 

Paige sped up to get Azzi to the same place, her cunt sucking in her fingers graciously. 

Paige pulled away to look at the way Azzi’s cunt absorbed Paige's fingers, sucking them in with every thrust, the squelching sounds of their fingers diving into one another, filling the air.

As Paige let out a yelp feeling her cum start to ooze out of her, Azzi’s legs started to shake with an overpowering orgasm of her own. Paige moaned, thrusting her fingers hard against her, Azzi’s too working hard.

Both girls released at the same time, fucking the cum out of each other.

Paige removed her hand from Azzi’s cunt, using her mouth to lick the cum up from her, savoring every last drop. 

Azzi followed suit, slurping up the white syrup that had poured out of the girl moments before. 

They lay there for a moment, catching their breath, Azzi’s ass still in Paige's face, and her face lying against her pelvic bone, hovering dangerously close to her aggravated cunt.

Paige let out a laugh. “Well I guess we are both just too damn stubborn to have a winner.” She paused. “I guess we will have to settle for a draw.” 

Azzi laughed. “I don’t know, felt like you might have came a little before I did.” She teased. Paige smacked her ass gently, pulling her off her so she was lying next to her.

“Whatever, at least I’m not the one with the praise kink, “good girl”.” Paige teased as Azzi’s face turned a shade of red.

Paige traced over her dimples as Azzi smiled bashfully.

“It’s a good thing you’re cute, or you wouldn’t even have had a chance.” 

“Ya right, p, you were moaning just as I was.” 

They returned into a heap of giggles, and Azzi snuggled up against her, laying her head over her chest, tracing her name into her stomach.

“Even though I beat you, I know you still make me cum really well. So don’t let this L make you feel insecure.” Azzi said quietly. 

Paige laughed, shoving her head playfully. “Yeah alright big head, rematch tomorrow and we will see who’s talking then.” Paige teased, nuzzling herself against her and letting the night wash over her. 

[cthonic-bunny]

1. Natal Chart Observations

1. Libra Moon: decision paralysis that comes from feeling two contradicting ways about an issue. “I want my cake but I want to eat it too.” I feel like libra moons are the most sentimental of the air moon signs. Libra moons can constantly weigh out the pros and cons for every emotion you feel. “I want to do this but I don’t want to deal with how messy it’ll make things.” When libra moons are feeling a little lost, they can over-schedule themselves and their commitments to friends to avoid thinking about overly-vulnerable feelings. There is zero tolerance for imbalance in relationships. Poor behavior from a partner will be met with matched behavior to tip the scales back to a balanced one, even if the overall locational of the scale is descending into negativity. “You get what you give” mentality. Libra moons can be keen on the idea of karma. “Come to me with sweetness, or don’t come to me at all.” Daydreaming about romance is a relaxing way to pass time. Before maturity, libra moons might suffer from social anxieties when they find themselves in group settings where there isn’t a cohesive vibe. If someone around a libra moon doesn’t look like they are having a good time, it subconsciously makes it difficult for a libra moon to relax. The libra moon will then play the role of a diplomat or host/hostess to ensure the vibes equalize to restore their peace.

2. Mars in the 10th house: these natives are always making money. They are known for their side hustles too. They are always looking for new ways to make money and I feel like they are good at getting clientele. They will get their hands dirty for their job. For a man, this can point to a “blue collar ‘manly’ job.” I noticed 10H mars can be pretty generous with their money and services, but feel extremely terrible about getting help from others. If these natives aren’t confident where they are in their career or skill set(s), I noticed that they are likely to undersell themselves or undercharge for their services/time. It can also point to people in the workplace as perceiving the 10H mars person to be brash and outspoken. The authority figures in their career can feel a sense of competition with the 10H mars person, or wants to humble them in some way. I feel like it’s really easy for them to get good jobs or climb up the ladder when they do things the right way. They get impatient when they aren’t growing in their careers as fast as they want to. “Why am I not a millionaire yet.” They work hard for what they want and are very ambitious once they find their niche. I feel like these are often people who can find jobs that don’t necessarily need a degree. Their career mistakes feel explosive. They can be seen as “sharks” in their fields because they go in for the attack. They like to be the best and the most competent at what they do, and want their colleagues to see them as competition. “I’m the best and no one will tell me otherwise.” They can be known for being assertive and extremely determined in meeting their goals. They will work themselves to the core and utilize all their energy towards elevating themselves career and reputation wise.

3. Mars in the 1st House: These people might often be noticed for their bodies. They might be seen as someone you shouldn’t mess around with. They look athletic. Maybe they are known for fitness or for being athletic. These natives can be associated with the military, and probably look incredible in their uniforms. This is a man-eater or womanizer placement, for sure. “I get what I want when I want it.” They look like they have a rough exterior, even if they are sweethearts. They can be into martial arts. Commanding presence. They can make wonderful personal trainers. Regardless of gender, they can come off as being comfortable with their masculine energy. Reds look great on them. They might have thick eyebrows and a nice jawline. They look attractive when they are angry. They know how to make someone feel sexy. They have people chasing them or falling for them fast.

4. Pisces and 12th house placements: these people have no problem ghosting you. Pisces placements and 12H placements are always made out to be innocent and naive, but they are attracted to people and situations that have something a little “bad” about them. Savior complex. They can go through feelings where they feel detached from social settings and those they love, where they cannot fully escape the role of observer. They will always be able to fully escape into their internal landscape and get consumed by it— but it seems as though no matter how hard they try, they can’t have that same presence in the material world. This can lead to frustrating feelings of disconnection from the world and people around them. They can be smiling and staring off, but you will never fully know what they are thinking. They can make people really curious about them, because their thoughts always catch you off guard. Having an existential crisis on the daily. Casual things might have a bigger internal meaning to them that others might not always understand. We can find plenty of people attractive, but if the spark isn’t felt in the soul and doesn’t pique a deep curiosity, we will get bored and swim away. Liking people who are a bit “mean and dark” but wanting them to be sweet and soft with you. Using music to paint your daydreams, or to escape. Finding music that relates almost entirely to whatever they have on their mind feels like striking gold. They can like someone just for having the same interests as them. Feeling like a ghost in a flesh suit. Enigmatic. Can embody different vibes and personas depending on who they are around. They are sensitive and can adapt to the situations at hand. Too much self awareness can lock them in their heads. “I only jump into waters with the depth of an abyss.” Laying down for hours just to daydream and process your thoughts. Long baths feel like therapy. Moderation isn’t in our vocabulary. We love what we like, and we want to get lost in what we love. Not being able to properly process your day or interactions until you’re alone and can replay them in isolation.

5. Taurus Placements: I noticed Taurus moon women get spoiled financially by their partners. The type for their partners to say “don’t worry, I’ll work and you can be at home,” or that being their partners goal at a point. I noticed Taurus placements can enjoy the occasional shoplifting. They are not going to compromise their comfort, and if you come after that it will be met with intense stubbornness. They can seem nonchalant about a lot of things, but can be extremely unwavering in their opinions on certain things. In some cases, they can have strange eating habits or relationship to food. Thankfully, the Tauruses I’ve been around don’t project that on those around them. It’s more internal from what I’ve noticed, and they can enjoy feeding those they love and care for. They can have great taste in food. They love sensual vices and sex. They look great with pearls. They master an aesthetic and can stick to it. They are fiercely protective of those they love. They can be lazy at their worst and will not want to do anything that requires too much effort. They can be impressively good at couponing. Making money from home is the ideal setup for them. They will spoil their loved ones too, and can be great gift givers. They don’t cheap out with presents for their loved ones. They get much enjoyment from decorating their spaces and hosting their loved ones. They can be prone to overthinking and some may obsessive behaviors or crippling anxiety as well. They can honestly make the best scammers, as terrible as that sounds. They can sell someone a dream and make it sound beautiful, but can be lying through their teeth. Their jealousies can sometimes come from a place of vanity. Watch out for envying others, and appreciate your own beauty. They can focus so much on the beauty around them they forget about their own. They can be the image of beauty and grace, or strive deeply for that. They have pretty and soothing voices. Taurus placements can easily be the funniest person you know when they are in a joyful mood. I also noticed Taurus placements are wonderful at finding vintage pieces and re-selling them!

-D

[cuteandhughesy]

Put Your Hands On Me | Will Cuylle

summary: you have a crush on your client, and you’re pretty sure he likes you too. just when will thinks you can’t get any better, you decide to do something about the tension between you.

[word count] 4.5k

warnings: NSFW! personal trainer! reader | flirting | kinda oblivious will | suggestive dialogue | kissing | smut | unprotected p in v intercourse | semi-public sex | creampie | this is basically porn…read at your own discretion

a/n: based off this request! I wasn’t familiar with mr. cuylle before getting a few requests for him, but reading this idea inspired me! so, here we are 😌

🎵 cold sweat by tinashe

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will's teammates are always asking him why he does it to himself. their voices, always tinged with confusion and amusement, constantly pestering him about why he doesn't just use the gym at the rink, but instead goes to the one almost 30 minutes farther.

but they know why, even if will doesn't disclose his reasoning. it's because you're there. you who is also known as his personal trainer. will doesn't even need a trainer—the rangers provide well qualified ones at the rink if he actually wanted one. but they don't wear pastel coloured sets and smile all bright at him. will's so down bad for you that he'll mess up sets on purpose just so you'll come over and touch him in correction.

it's awful and embarrassing—especially when his teammates give him little teasing, knowing looks. it makes will feel like he's in trouble when he hasn't even done anything wrong.

he's just...into you. since when has that become a crime?

"arms up, will." your sweet yet firm tone has will blinking, affectively snapping himself out of his daydream. a daydream where he gets to drag you into the locker room and kiss you and rip your bright pink thighs down and—

you touch him, fingers wrapping around his biceps and adjusting him. suddenly, the dumbbell's clutched in his hands become unbearably heavy—and it's simply because you're close enough that he can smell vanilla perfume mixed with your sweat.

which, will didn't ever think sweat smell would turn him on, but here he is. "right sorry," he says between deep inhales of air, helping in assisting your correction by getting into proper form. you nod and mumble some kind of praise as will starts lifting again, taking a step back to give him space.

your eyes zone in on his arms, watching the way his muscles contract and veins pop under the weights. it's truly hard to focus on your job when will is around. you used to be a professional personal trainer, but ever since will cuylle waltzed into the gym—bright eyed and bushy tailed—professionalism went out the window.

so yeah, maybe you push him extra hard so that his sweat soaks his shirt and gives you a nice view at his defined abs. and okay, yeah, you definitely touch him more than you should—look at him more flirtatiously than any other client of yours. but you can't help it.

and the worse part is, you know will likes you. or at least he wants to fuck you—that much is obvious. you catch him staring at your ass and lips more than the weights in the gym, always blushing when you catch him. but like you said, your professionalism has flown out the window, and you fucking like it. you crave it—crave him.

but no matter how much will likes you, you can't get him to crack. you don't know how much more obvious flirting and longing looks it will take for him to see that you want him just as bad as he wants you.

you reach out again. starting at his elbows, you softly trail your fingers along his arm, following the natural line of muscles up his bicep. "you feel that stretch here?" your words are breathy and low, eyes flickering up to meet his.

will visibly swallows, his reps momentarily stilling. a bead of sweat trails off his jawline from his temple, tempting you as it lazily falls down his neck. you want to reach out and let your tongue swipe it away—nipping at the muscles and tendons in his neck until he has no choice but to rip off your clothes.

"I feel…something for sure." he mutters lowly. will fights off a sharp inhale when you squeeze his biceps. your smirk is only making his cock harden, and soon enough he'll be excusing himself for the bathroom in order to tuck his length into his waistband.

will clears his throat, desperate to stop the dirty thoughts from taking over his head and body. he begins moving again, fingers tightening on the bar—cursing himself when he thinks about them tightening in your hair.

"good—I want it to burn."

he almost wants to laugh. "oh it's definitely burning."

you can't tell if he's trying to save himself or if will is genuinely that clueless. you're practically flaunting your tits in his face today—wrapped tightly in a bubblegum pink sports bra that pushes the fleshiest part of your tits to the sky. you're practically spilling out in invitation.

you watch his eyes, ever so subtle, take a glance at your chest—like usual. you're sweating, just enough to make you look glowy, and will thinks he might collapse. he curses, so low that you barley hear it.

just when you think he’s about to break—take you in his arms and kiss you silly—will drops the weights to the ground, so sudden it makes you blink in surprise, the dumbbells echoing off the padded floor.

"you okay?" you question cautiously. a million things are running through your head as will rubs a hand through his messy, dirty blonde hair—messing up his strands even more. it gives him a rugged, sexy look that makes your clit throb pathetically.

have you read this situation wrong? maybe will doesn't like you and you've made him uncomfortable with what you think is obvious advances. or maybe he's hurt—strained a muscle. it has your trainer side kicking in, and you take a quick step forward.

but will takes a step back, like he can't stand too close to you. your heart pulls uncomfortably, and you have to fight back a frown. "no," he laughs breathlessly, looking away from his shoes and into your curious eyes. you look so soft and beautiful and it's only making him feel like shit.

he feels like such a sleeze. eyeing up his personal trainer while she's just trying to do her job. will clear his throat, "well, yes. i'm fine but i'm also not fine. not at all." the word vomit is building, and it doesn't help when you're just standing there—all pretty lips and perfect body—looking at him like you're waiting for him to break.

will continues, "i'm dying here, y/n. I can't focus on working out when you're here." immediately he closes his eyes, exhaling shakily at his own words. he sounds so fucking stupid.

but you? you're not phased by his admission. "why do you pay me?" you question softly, taking another step in his direction.

his brows furrow, "huh?"

"why. do. you. pay. me?" you repeat slower, the tips of your shoes hitting his. if will wasn't feeling hot before, he is now. your tits are practically brushing his sweat soaked shirt, and your scent is the only thing he can smell—not the rubber mats or sanitizer. just you.

you're waiting for his answer patiently—but there's a glimmer in your eyes that makes him think that you know. a heat wave of embarrassment flushed over him, "because you're my trainer." he tells you dumbly.

there's no one else in the gym to witness this moment, and a part of you thinks that's why you're so bold. you're sick of the cat and mouse game between you—it's been months. months upon months of yearning for his lips, and your nipples pinching anytime he gets close to you.

this time it's your brows that pull. "yeah, but why? do you guys not have PTs at the rink?"

he's so busted. will nods, clearing his throat while simultaneously trying to clear his head. will seriously needs to get a grip of himself before you kick him in the balls for being such a sleaze. "no, uh we do," will stutters.

he tries to look away, but you follow his gaze. not giving him the opportunity. "okay, so why don't you use them?" you push.

if you take one step closer you'll be able to feel his painfully hard bulge. will shuffles back, "because I like you more than them." the answer is pathetic, especially considering a minute ago he said he can't focus working out if you're in the same room.

but much to his shock you just smile. it's not a polite smile like you're about to kick him out of the gym, but rather a playful smile full of teasing and secrets. "you like me?” you naturally trail off, adding a jolt to will's heart with the suspense. "or my boobs?"

yeah, will is seriously going to need to move cities after this conversation. and of course you just had to bring up your boobs—the ones that have been staring at him since he showed up an hour ago. like clockwork you watch his panicked riddled eyes flicker down to your chest, and you can't help but smirk as he snaps out of it—finding your gaze once again.

"what? I like you." will stresses. he almost wants to reach out and shake you in reassurance—because above all, he does actually like you. he doesn't just want to hit it and quit it. he's never been that type of guy. but will doesn't touch you, because right now it's definitely not the time to make this situation any worse.

and will is so sure it's about to take a turn for the worse.

"it's okay, will," you shrug, taking your plump bottom lip between your teeth, "I know you check me out. you're not as subtle as you think you are."

he curses, "fuck. i'm sorry."

"you are?"

if will wasn't so ready to lick his wounds and retreat, he would've caught the suggestive tone to your words and the way you've pushed even closer—nipples poking through your sports bra and brushing his chest.

but because he's so fucking embarrassed and ashamed for liking you, will keeps going. "yeah and if you want to like fire me or something-I don't know if that's how it works, but I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, y/n. I can go." god, he even starts to step back, disconnecting his phone from the speakers—because you always let him play his music—as if he's getting ready to leave.

you grab his bicep, stopping him before he has a chance to hightail and run. "no, I'm not uncomfortable," you mumble, blinking up at him all slowly and syrupy, making wills body all but tighten.

he swallows, "you're not?" a million emotions flash through him; confusion, curiosity, doubt, excitement, hope, and fucking at the top of everything is arousal because apparently he's a teenage boy.

you shake your head slowly, "I like it."

your quiet admission shoots straight down to his dick. "oh shit," will breathes, "really?"

"mhm hmph," you hum lowly, fingers squeezing around the meat of his bicep. expect this time you're not holding back—you're not masking your touch with professionalism. you're simply just feeling him up.

will watches as your eyes trail over his figure, drinking up every ripple and hard surface below his clothes. his skin pebbles in goosebumps, letting out another shaky breath that draws your attention. "god, you're killing me."

that makes you laugh. not in a way that's condescending or like you actually find his statement funny—but in disbelief. "and you think i'm not dying here? god will—your biceps and the little groans you make and your fucking thighs and your smile." you lick onto your bottom lip, will tracking your tongue with his eyes shamelessly.

"i've been flirting with you for months," you admit quietly.

shock is an understatement in that moment. will thinks he must truly be clueless because he had no fucking idea. "wait, really?"

"yes," you grin.

he groans—feeling embarrassed for a whole new reason. because what do you mean you've been flirting with him while he's been actively trying to behave. the many nights he's been alone in bed, fisting his aching, wet cock alone....when it could've been you doing it instead.

this whole time will could've been kissing you and fucking your sweet pussy in and outside of the semi-private gym—and then taken you out for lunch and coffee afterwards like the gentleman he is.

will can’t even think about that or he’ll begin to spiral—analyzing every single thing you’ve said and interaction shared that should’ve made him realize.

"i'm such an idiot." he huffs. will finally allows himself to touch you, large hand settling at the base of your spine—thick fingers splayed across your dewy skin.

the sight of your grin and the way you lean into him—like you're craving his touch—has will following suit with his own smile pulling at his lips. the same lips you've dreamed about kissing and sucking on your clit.

"yeah," you shrug with a breathy laugh, "but you're cute, so it's okay."

your playful banter is cut short as will leans down, kissing you. you sigh pleasantly as will's mouth holds yours, lips sliding and moving in a sexy, panty dropping pace.

his fingers dip underneath the hem of your leggings—teasing you. you whine into his mouth, pushing higher up on your toes in an attempt to deepen the kiss. wordlessly asking him for more. more kissing, more touching, more everything.

your hands loop around his warm neck while will’s free hand slides down the back of your thigh, hooking at the pit of your knee and affectively bringing your leg up around his hip. the new angle feels almost pornographic, opening you up so that his very obvious bulge can smoothly rubs against your clothed slit.

will takes ahold of your bottom lip between his teeth before he pulls back, both of you panting and wound up. he smirks all sexy with your lip in his mouth before releasing it with a gentle plop.

"I don't think I can continue our session today," he whispers suggestively, gently maneuvering your leg so it’s back onto solid ground. you want to pout at the loss of friction between your legs, but the way will’s fingers dip further down the back of your tights have you faltering.

so close to touching. so close to scandalous—but not quite there yet. not quite touching.

"oh no," you breathe heavily, "why's that?" you ask even though you know damn well why.

will grins—the shy will cuylle you thought you knew is completely gone. disintegrated. now replaced by this sexy, confident will who touches you teasingly and kisses like a porn star. he leans down, lips brushing over the shell of your ear, "my dick is so fucking hard." then he gently kisses your ear and you just about die.

"well maybe I can help you out."

he pulls back to look at you, smirk only growing when he sees the eagerness swimming around your eyes. "oh yeah?"

"yeah." you moan.

will curses again, which makes you grin. he shoots a cautious look over his broad shoulder, but like before, there's nobody else in the gym. it is a semi-private gym, one that will books for two hour sessions twice a week with you. that stemmed from the idea of getting caught with a erection by another gym member.

private lessons it was.

so nobody will be here, at least not for another little bit. he honestly has no idea how much time has passed since he arrived—his concept of time has turned to mush since you starting batting your lashes at him and confessed your purposeful flirting.

will looks back at you, "don't want you to suck my dick though."

"no?" you frown, pussy fluttering at the thought of will’s dick in your mouth.

"no. I wanna fuck you instead."

you jaw drops, and will just grins like a cocky sex god. he takes ahold of your hand, dragging you both towards the change room. the space is open and smells like cleaning supplies, but not even the antiseptic scent can stop the arousal pooling low in your belly.

will guides you into one of the private stalls—one that you'd most likely see at your local high school. a creaky plastic door with a matching seat pushed against one of the white walls. he turns the metal lock, the click echoing in the empty room—and then he's on you again.

this kiss is more intense—quicker and dirtier. your hands are all over one another. neither of you can stay still, it's physically impossible. months upon months of suffering and longing has boiled to the surface, and you move quickly in order to not get burned.

will’s lips trail down your jaw, nipping at your skin and then soothing the sting with his warm tongue. your lips part, breathless and desperate moans flowing from your mouth freely. you've gone limp in his arms, completely surrendering yourself to will.

not that he minds obviously. his grip on you is firm, but not painful as his mouth finds your neck. he sucks and licks at your pulse point until your withering, hips bucking in search of friction.

"you smell so fucking good." will mumbles into your neck before promptly finding your mouth again, continuing the needy kiss. his kiss, although new, feels almost familiar. he’s still there...the sweet will you fell for when he walked into your gym months ago—beneath the surface. that much is evident in the way he’s kissing you now.

you lick onto his bottom lip teasingly. his muscles tense under your palms, breathing increasing as your tongues begin moving together. will's hand comes down to your ass, gripping the flesh firmly and drawing you closer.

"I need to feel you," you say against his spit slick lips.

"I know baby." the nickname turns your legs to jelly, and like he knew you were on the brink of buckling to the ground, will grabs your hips firmly, pushing you further back against the wall—holding you up between his hard chest and the cold plastic behind you.

will helps you strip off your bubblegum coloured tights, and he can only groan at the sight before him. because underneath your irresistible tights, you're completely bare. no underwear in sight, only your pretty pussy, glistening and dripping for him.

"where are your panties?" he questions you lowly, tongue licking up a tendon in your neck slowly, while he simultaneously slips his hand under your sports bra in favour of groping at your tit and pulling your nipple.

everything feels so heightening and overwhelming in the best way. you shudder, "didn't want want underwear lines."

will tuts his tongue against your skin, biting down on you briefly and making your breath hitch. "I think you just wanted me to fuck you. think you've been waiting so patiently. hoping i'd pull your pretty tights down and slide my cock into your sweet little pussy."

his dirty words almost make you choke on your own spit. you had no idea will was capable of such filthy words—it has your belly twisting and turning in anticipation, while your walls contract desperately. will's lips find your jaw again, and then the corner of your mouth. not quite kissing you but just dragging his lips along your skin. marking you.

"I thought you were shy." you say pathetically, hips withering and jolting as will's fingers dip down your belly. he's so close to where you want him. so close.

"that's before I knew you were so naughty," his thumb and forefinger spread your lips, opening up your glistening walls further. the cool air shocks your warmth, and your skin pebbles all over. just when you think you can’t get any more shocked, will’s fingers slide over your clit, teasing you.

his eyes bore into yours, "are you a naughty girl, y/n?"

"no," you whine. he slides down, the pads of his fingers prodding around your slippery entrance. a whispered plea leaves your lips. you're so ready and so beyond desperate for him—it feels impossible to breathe.

it makes will coo condescendingly—the struggle and desperation written all over your flustered face. "what are you then?"

you're practically pouting. "i'm a good girl."

"yeah?"

"mhm hmph."

his gaze turns pointed. will takes his hand away from your heat, making your frown deepen. the hand he previously had under your sports bra, teasing your diamond cutting hard peak, comes up and grips your chin, keeping your eyes on him—unwilling you to look away or tilt your head back.

will leans in, but he doesn't kiss you. "then be a good girl and turn around."

you don't need to be asked twice, turning on shaky legs. behind you, will quickly pulls his shirt off, adding it to the growing pile of discarded clothes on the tiled floor below you.

you're breathing frantically, pushing your hips back in search of him. will smiles at the sight, chest heaving as he pulls his aching cock out of his athletic shorts, freeing himself from the restraint. his cock is angry shade of rose, smacking against his pelvis with a thick slapping sound. will grips his length, pumping himself lazily, slicking himself with your sticky arousal coating his fingers.

the lewd sound has you moaning, casting a suggestive look over your shoulder. when you catch sight of his strong chest, flushed and sweaty, along with his throbbing cock and leaking tip....you're pretty sure you feel your pussy leak and drip onto the floor. which in hindsight should be embarrassing, but you’re too flustered to care. and fuck if will cares—if anything the sight has his dick twitching.

will grabs ahold of your ass, squeezing and lifting to spread you—opening up your already weeping entrance. "fuck baby, spread your legs wider for me," he slaps your ass gratefully when you listen, wobbly legs sliding open another inch or so—giving him more room, while will begins lining up his head with your hole. "a little wider—that's a good girl."

"will please, I-" you choke on your words as the fat tip of will's cock nudges at your opening. his length slips in slowly, teasing you until the last possible second.

you could cry.

"what were you saying, baby? will please..."

your walls clench around his sheathed cock like you can't decide if you want him to start moving or keep still. either way you think it's overwhelming. you feel so full of will’s cock that it feels impossible. impossible to breathe, to think, to speak.

thankfully, he's not actually looking for a reply. he's too fucking horny to wait any longer. will begins thrusting, shallow at first as if he's testing the limit—yours and his.

you're a moaning and sobbing mess, pressed against the stall wall pathetically—lips parted and wet as his cock slowly rocks into your entrance. "please."

your plea is all it takes for will to speed up. very quickly his thrusts become rhythmical, hips slapping against your ass feverishly. you cry loudly, frantically reaching for him—fingers locking around his wrist where he’s holding on to your hip.

your pussy is greedy, sucking and holding onto his length like it's never had anything better. and if you were to ask yourself—you haven't had anything better. will fucks you like he kisses you—sure and sexy and with little bit of sweetness. it's exactly what you've been craving. it's so fucking good.

"god," he curses lowly, "i'm not gunna last long inside your pretty pussy baby. so fucking tight and perfect."

like clockwork your walls flutter around him, which only urges him to fuck your harder. "keep going," you plead.

he had no intention of stopping. not now, not ever. you're better than he could've ever imagined. will's arm wrap around your middle, promptly pulling you off the wall and back to his chest—all while his cock continues attacking your pulsating, gummy walls.

your head falls back to his shoulder weakly, and it gives will the best view of your bouncing tits that have fallen up and out of your sports bra from the momentum of his thrusts—pebbled nipples and all. his slit begins leaking fluids just at the sight.

your glossed over eyes meet his, your lips parted helplessly as his hips rut into you. will leans down without even realizing what he's doing, kissing you once again. its barley a kiss—if anything it's more of brushing tongues and muffled moans. lips barley kissing over one another’s.

but it's enough to have you clenching around him. "i'm cumming, will." you whine, eyes rolling as the coil in your stomach ignites. your hand darts up, gripping tightly at the roots of his dirty blonde hair while your orgasm hits you at full force. the sob you let out sounds like fucking heaven, walls fluttering as your body goes limp.

will shudders, keeping you against his chest as his own release catches up to him. his thrusts turn rougher, pelvis smacking against your ass loudly while the head of his cock punches your overstimulated cervix. 

"oh fuck," he moans, balls jumping as spurts of hot cum shoot from his cock, painting your sensitive walls. will rides out his orgasm with shallow and slow thrusts, making a mess of your fluids—smearing the combination over his pelvis and your inner thighs.

you whine, which makes will blink. his grip around your body loosens, but not enough to let you fall. which thank god, because you're not sure if you can stand right now. "you okay?" he asks you softly, breath hitting the side of your face as he studies you for a reaction.

"a little tired and fucked out," you trail off, and even though you literally look spent—mascara under your eyes and lips stained—there's a hint of amusement in your tone. "but i'm okay."

will smiles, kissing your cheek tenderly before sliding his dick out of your entrance. the squelching noise that comes with that action almost makes you want to go for another round, but your legs protest that idea as they start to shake.

"just stay still for a minute baby," he mumbles, grabbing his discarded shirt, "gunna clean you up." ever so softly, will begins wiping up the mess between your legs. he works with such softness and ease that you can't help but smile, leaning back against the stall wall for some much needed stability.

will kisses your inner thigh before helping you back into your tights—which, might as well get married now because you're ruined for every other man.

when he stands up to his full height, you can't help but touch his bare chest, not so subtly feeling him up. "what are you going to wear?" you're referring to his shirt, which is now covered in your mixed juices.

will shrugs casually, hands gripping at the fleshiest parts of your hips to squeeze reassuringly. "eh, not worried."

you quirk a brow, "maybe I don't want people looking at you all....sweaty and muscley."

"you jealous?" will teases, leaning down and letting his lips brush over your cheek. it tickles, but you welcome it, leaning into his mouth in search of a kiss.

"maybe...."

he laughs and then presses a lingering kiss to your lips, "don't worry baby, i'm yours."

[dramarnathandentalcare]

Top 5 Exercises for the Jawline: Tone and Define Your Look

Most people strive for a chiseled jawline because it enhances the face's elegance and proportion. People frequently believe that this is dictated by one's DNA. However, this is not true. You can truly work out the muscles that surround your jaw. Specific types of exercises can also be used to train the muscles in the jaw and certain parts of the neck. 

In this blog, we will learn about five basic but effective jawline workouts that will help you slim your jawline.

Why Jawline Exercises Matter

Jawline exercises target the muscles in the neck, face, and jaw region. Performing activities to strengthen these muscles will help draw up the skin on the face. This is very useful for sagging or puffy skin around the jaw. Healthy exercise increases blood flow in this area, which reduces the production of fat and skin.

Top 5 Jawline Exercises to Try

1) The Chin Lift

The chin raise is a simple jawline exercise that works various muscles in the mouth, neck, and throat. It is an ideal fit for reducing fat chins and enhancing the jawline. 

2) Jaw Release

The jaw release exercise focuses on relaxing the muscles in the jaw. At the same time, they exercise the surrounding muscles. This jawline workout helps you sculpt your lower face, resulting in a sculpted jawline.

3) Neck Curl-Up

This exercise is comparable to sitting up for the neck; it focuses on the front neck and helps to lift and tone the jawline. It is highly good at firming sagging skin on the neck. 

4) The Vowel Sounds Exercise (A-E-I-O-U)

This jawline exercise may appear goofy, but it is the most effective workout for the lip, cheek, and jaw muscles. Of course, by stressing vowel sounds, you will engage these muscles, which will undoubtedly tone your face. 

5) Collarbone Backup

Collarbone backup is a good jawline exercise that works the muscles in the neck and jaw. It improves overall posture and may reduce the double chin problem. 

Tips to Get the Best Results from Jawline Exercises

Hydrate yourself

Maintain a Healthy Diet

Stay Consistent

Improve Posture

Final Thoughts

Jawline toning exercises may not usually necessitate the use of equipment or extensive gym sessions. Five fundamental exercises can be used to train the face and neck muscles to achieve a chiseled appearance. Whether you wish to recover a narrow profile over your chin or improve the lines of your face, these workouts will help. The most essential thing is to keep to the routine, be patient over time, and avoid causing too much harm to your health.

For more guidelines read the full blog by this link : https://www.dramarnathansdentalcare.com/jawline-exercise/

[fattystoriez]

The Slobby Guest

Content Warning: Weight Gain

Zack was a successful fitness trainer in his area, putting his muscles to good use. Zack was notorious for being self centered and vain, hating on any fat person he could see. Today after Zack’s workout, he was feeling extra sore, so Zack decided to go home early. He got home to his roomate Daniel, who had a friend over, the friend being quite chubby. Zack was surprised that he’d have someone over who was so fat, but then again Daniel had never been as vain as Zack.

Zack got into the shower, the hot water feeling good on his tense aching muscles. As Zack lathered up his body he traced over his juicy pecs, washboard abs and taught bubble butt. Zack getting back into his day clothes he walked out of the shower to see Daniel’s friend shirtless in the living room, shaking his chubby belly. “Oh uh… hey” Zack blurted. “Where’s Daniel”

“Oh hey, you’re Zack right?” The friend said, “Daniel went to the work.” Zack forgot Daniel worked today, but why was this guy still here?

“Oh, and you were just planning on staying?” Zack asked.

“If that’s cool with you, I could actually use some help.” The friend walked up to Zack, pressing his belly against Zack’s abdomen. “I just really need someone to worship this belly.” The room started to get hazy, Zack’s mind began to fog up.

“Oh uh… I’m sorry dude I don’t… I’m not into…” Zack didn’t know what to say, the friend pushed Zack onto the couch and pressed his belly into Zack’s face. “Mppphhh” Zack tried to protest, but the belly muffled his speech.

“Yeah you like that fat belly don’t you” The friend was really grinding the belly into Zack’s face, this is when the changes began to happen. Zack’s belly began to fill with blubbery fat, pound after pound, it was like the friends belly was filling him up. Muscular arms buried in soft jiggly fat, his pecs now moobs that sit on top of his growing belly. Zack’s jawline suffered too, rounding out, becoming the panicle of obesity.

“S-stop… you’re making me so fat…” Zack groaned, he knew he should’ve been worried but once he started playing with his inflated belly, Zack was falling in love. Before he could get any of the friend’s information, he was gone. Zack was left on the couch to play with his blubber until his roommate come to find him. Who was the friend? How does Daniel know him? Zack would’ve tried to answer these questions if he wasn’t too busy playing with his pillowy belly.

To be continued?

[nameless-jamie]

No room for 2

One-Bed-Trope SPECIAL

Jamie Tartt x fem! reader

Masterlist

TW: cursing, kissing, smut, heavy flirting, suggestive talking

There were worse things in life than flying halfway across the world for your best friend’s wedding. Really, there were. Long-haul flights? Uncomfortable, sure, but it wasn’t like Y/N’d be roughing it. Keeley had insisted on booking everyone first-class seats—"No best friend of mine is flying coach to Hawaii, babe!”—so at least Y/N had legroom, champagne, and a window seat.

And yet, as she settled into the plush leather seat and stowed her carry-on beneath the seat in front of her, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to go horribly wrong. Maybe it was just the pre-wedding chaos still buzzing in her brain—helping Keeley coordinate months of planning, juggling dress fittings, last-minute RSVPs, and the ever-present worry that Roy Kent might actually growl at the officiant.

No stress, she reminded herself. Just a week of sun, cocktails, and watching your best friend marry the love of her life. Roy and Keeley's special day.

The hum of the plane’s engines grew louder as passengers filtered into the cabin. Y/N leaned back, exhaling slowly, eyes closing for a moment and then a distinct voice cut through the air like nails on a chalkboard.

“Oi, this seat taken, love?”

Her eyes snapped open just as Jamie Tartt dropped into the seat beside her with all the grace of a cat landing in someone’s lap uninvited.

“No,” she said flatly. “But it should’ve been.”

“Lucky for me, it weren’t,” Jamie replied, flashing a grin that somehow managed to be both charming and infuriating. His sunglasses were still perched on his head, holding back his messy blond-brown hair, and his stupidly well-defined jawline was freshly shaven—probably so he’d look good in the wedding photos.

Not that he needed to try. Annoyingly enough, Jamie Tartt was attractive in that aggravating, effortless way that made it impossible to ignore him. And God, did he know it.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered, sinking deeper into her seat as the flight attendant announced the final boarding call. Of course this would happen. She should’ve known the universe wouldn’t let her escape without some form of punishment.

“What? You don’t fancy spendin’ the next ten hours with me, love?” Jamie asked, draping his jacket over the seatback and settling in like he owned the place. He leaned closer, voice dropping to a stage whisper: “Don’t worry—I’ll keep my hands to myself. Unless you don't want me to.”

Y/N shot him a withering look. “You’re impossible.”

“Nah, just irresistible.”

It had always been like this with Jamie—ever since Keeley introduced him to Y/N a few years back. Their first meeting had been at one of Keeley’s parties, and within five minutes, Jamie had somehow managed to insult her favorite band, spill half a drink down her dress, and then—just for good measure—ended the night by flirting with her in the most infuriatingly cocky way possible.

“You’re fit when you’re mad, y’know that?” he’d said that night, smirking as she tried to blot cranberry vodka out of her blouse. “Bet you’re a proper firecracker when you’re—”

She’d dumped what was left of her drink over his head before he could finish the sentence.

In the years since, their interactions had followed the same pattern: annoying banter, relentless flirting, and the unshakable sense that Jamie enjoyed getting under her skin. To be fair, he wasn’t quite as insufferable as he used to be—thanks largely to Ted Lasso and a good dose of humility—but that didn’t mean she wanted to be stuck next to him for an entire flight.

Especially not when he still had that infuriating smile. And those arms. And that stupid, perfect face.

The first hour of their flight went something like this:

Jamie wasted no time making himself comfortable, kicking off his trainers and stretching his legs into the aisle like he owned it. “So,” he said, tossing a packet of peanuts onto his tray table, “you reckon Roy’s gonna cry at the weddin’?”

Y/N snorted despite herself. “Roy Kent? Cry? I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Yeah, but Keeley’s got that magic, don’t she? Bet she’s the only person who could get Roy to tear up. Proper romance, that.” Jamie paused, then glanced at her with a smirk. “Bet you’re a sucker for all that soppy love stuff, eh?”

“Yeah, well, some of us have hearts, Tartt,” she shot back.

“Oi, I’ve got a heart!” He thumped his chest dramatically. “Right here. And it’s very sensitive, I’ll have you know.”

“Must be buried under all that ego.”

Jamie clutched his chest like she’d stabbed him. “Ouch, wounded. Absolutely wounded, love.”

Some time after that...

“Fancy a sweet?”

Y/N glanced up from her book just in time to see Jamie holding a bag of gummy worms under her nose.

“Pass.”

“Suit yourself.” He popped one into his mouth with a satisfied hum, then—without warning—leaned closer, holding another gummy worm between his teeth.

“Go on,” he mumbled around the candy, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“For the love of—Jamie, stop.”

“C’mon, Lady and the Tramp it with me. Bit of mid-flight romance.”

“Romance? This is harassment.”

“Only if you’re not enjoyin’ it,” he replied, the gummy worm still dangling between his teeth like the world’s worst peace offering.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

The worst part? She almost laughed. Almost. But she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Instead, she plucked the gummy worm from his mouth with a roll of her eyes.

“Happy now?”

“Depends. You enjoy my spit on that?”

“Jesus Christ, you pig!” she muttered, turning back to her book as Jamie dissolved into laughter beside her.

Somewhere over the Pacific, Y/N’s resolve began to fray. Maybe it was the recycled air. Maybe it was the champagne. Or maybe it was the fact that Jamie Tartt, for all his teasing, was annoyingly good company when he wanted to be.

He’d stolen half her in-flight snacks by now, offered unsolicited commentary on the movie she was watching, and spent a solid twenty minutes trying to convince her that pineapple absolutely belonged on pizza.

“It’s like... tropical and savory all at once,” he insisted, gesturing with half a Kit Kat bar. “Proper culinary masterpiece, that.”

“More like a culinary crime,” she shot back.

“You just ain’t got refined taste.”

“And you think gummy worms are a balanced meal.”

“Well, they’ve got fruit in ‘em, don’t they? Proper health food.”

She snorted despite herself.

Somewhere around hour eight, Jamie finally started to doze off, leaving Y/N with a rare moment of peace. She let her head rest against the window, eyes half-closed as the hum of the plane faded into the background.

But peace, of course, was short-lived.

“Mm... love... warm, innit…”

Y/N’s eyes shot open.

Jamie had shifted in his sleep, head tilting toward her shoulder. His arm—broad, warm, and far too heavy—somehow found its way across her armrest, brushing against her side as he mumbled incoherently in his sleep.

“Jamie,” she hissed.

No response.

“Jamie!”

He snorted awake, blinking blearily. “Wha—?”

“You were drooling on my shoulder.”

“Was not!”

“You were.”

“Must’ve been dreamin’ about somethin’ nice, then,” he replied, grinning through his sleep-mussed hair. “Reckon it was you, babe.”

“Unbelievable,” she muttered, shifting as far away as her seat allowed.

By the time the plane began its descent, Y/N was mentally drafting a strongly worded email to the airline, demanding an emotional support cocktail upon landing.

“Cheers for the company, love,” Jamie said as the plane touched down. “Made the flight fly by, that did.”

“Fly by? It was an endurance test.”

“Eh, you loved it.” He winked, already unbuckling his seatbelt. “Bet you’ll miss me when we get to the hotel.”

“Don’t hold your breath.”

If only she knew how wrong she was.

Because the real nightmare?

That was still waiting at the hotel check-in desk.

“This is a joke, right?” Y/N had asked, clutching her suitcase handle like a lifeline.

Keeley winced, the plumeria flower tucked behind her ear wobbling slightly. “Babe, I’m so sorry. The hotel overbooked, and now we’re short a room. Everyone’s paired off already—Rebecca’s with her new guy, Sassy’s with Ted ironically, even Higgins and his missus are here! It’s literally just you and Jamie left.”

“There must be another option.” Y/N spun on her heel. “Rebecca, you wouldn’t mind—”

“Oh, darling, I would, but...” Rebecca gave an apologetic smile and gestured towards the hallway to her room, from which faint jazz music and the low murmur of her Amsterdam boyfriend’s voice drifted out.

Desperate, Y/N glanced at Sassy. The other woman merely raised her eyebrows, clearly not about to give up her alone time with Ted.

Keeley clasped Y/N’s hands, eyes wide with bridal desperation. “Please? Just one night! And Jamie’s not that bad anymore. He’s grown up loads!”

A snort sounded behind them. “Still right here, Keeley,” Jamie called, sunglasses perched on his head as he leaned casually against the lobby desk. “But she’s right, love. I’m a proper gentleman now. Promise I won’t bite. Unless you ask nicely.”

The room smelled like coconut sunscreen and impending disaster.

“C’mon, love. Don’t be shy,” Jamie said with a smirk, flopping onto the king-sized bed like he owned the place. “We’re just two mates sharin’ a bed. Happens all the time in footy.”

“You and your teammates cuddle after matches?” Y/N shot back, dropping her suitcase by the closet with a thump. “Good to know. I’ll make sure to mention it in my wedding speech tomorrow. ‘Roy Kent: world-class footballer and connoisseur of post-game snuggles.’”

“Oi, that’s sacred team bonding, that is.” Jamie propped himself up on his elbows, still grinning like the Cheshire cat. “But I wouldn’t mind a cuddle if it’s you, babe. You’re warmer than Isaac, I bet.”

Y/N glared. “Touch me in my sleep, Tartt, and I’ll kick you so hard you’ll be singing soprano during the ceremony.”

“I can’t believe this is my life,” Y/N muttered, digging through her suitcase for her pajamas. The tropical breeze drifted through the open balcony doors, carrying the faint sound of waves against the shore. It would’ve been paradise—if not for the smug footballer sprawled across her bed.

His eyes followed her movements like a cat tracking a bird. She could feel his gaze lingering on the curve of her hips beneath her sundress, and it made her skin prickle.

“Y’know, you don’t have to be so grumpy, babe,” Jamie said, arms tucked behind his head, the muscles in his biceps flexing obnoxiously. “We’re in bloody Hawaii. Sun, sand, and... me. What more could you want?”

“A room without a cocky footballer who can’t keep his eyes to himself.” She grabbed her toiletries and marched toward the bathroom. “Don’t touch my side of the bed while I’m gone.”

“Want me to draw a line down the middle? Maybe build a pillow wall?” Jamie called after her, laughter in his voice.

“Don’t tempt me.”

Hot water had done little to wash away her irritation—or the lingering heat from Jamie’s constant teasing. Scrubbing shampoo out of her hair, she tried to ignore the memory of his teasing smirk, the way his tanned skin had looked against the white hotel sheets, the playful gleam in his blue eyes...

Focus, Y/N. He’s just being Jamie. Don’t let him get under your skin.

Stepping out of the shower, she wrapped a way too small towel around herself and wiped the condensation from the mirror. Her reflection stared back, eyes slightly too bright, cheeks still warm from more than just the steam.

The doorknob rattled.

“Oi! I need the loo!” Jamie called from the other side.

“Give me a minute!”

“No promises!”

“Jamie, I swear—”

The door swung open.

“Jesus Christ!” Y/N shrieked, clutching her towel tighter as Jamie stumbled back, eyes going comically wide.

“Bloody hell—didn’t think you were still—” His gaze darted downward—then immediately upward as if he’d been burned. “I—uh—sorry! Really, uh... nice towel.”

“Get out!” she shouted, shoving the door closed so hard the frame rattled. Heart pounding, she leaned against the sink, gripping the counter until her pulse slowed.

True to her threat, Y/N had constructed a formidable pillow wall down the middle of the bed. Five fluffy hotel pillows stood stacked in a neat line, forming a barrier between them.

Jamie surveyed her handiwork with an amused smirk. “Impressive craftsmanship, love. You building a fortress to protect your virginity?”

“Exactly.” She switched off the bedside lamp after giving him a sarcastic look and slid beneath the covers, determined to ignore the warmth radiating from Jamie’s side of the mattress.

“Y’know, if you’re that worried, I could sleep on the floor.”

“Good. Go ahead.”

“Nah, too late. Already comfy,” he replied, wiggling his toes beneath the sheets.

“Of course you are,” she muttered.

Silence settled over the room, broken only by the distant sound of waves and the faint hum of the air conditioner. Y/N closed her eyes, willing herself to relax.

Minutes passed. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad—

A hand flopped onto her side of the pillow wall.

“Jamie!”

“Oops. Must’ve slipped,” he murmured innocently.

A moment later, a leg drifted over the barrier, brushing against her thigh.

“Oh my God, keep to your side!”

“Can’t help it, babe. The bed’s got a slope,” Jamie mumbled, sounding suspiciously amused.

“Yeah, the slope of your ego.”

She shoved his leg back and rearranged the pillows with extra force. But even as she huffed in annoyance, a traitorous part of her brain couldn’t ignore the heat of his skin, the solid warmth of muscle beneath soft sheets...

Focus. Just get through the night.

The air felt heavier in the dark, thick with the scent of salt and hibiscus flowers from the open balcony door. Y/N drifted in and out of sleep, half-aware of the faint sound of Jamie’s breathing beside her.

At some point, the pillow wall must have shifted. She wasn’t sure when it happened—only that she woke up to the warmth of an arm draped across her waist, the solid weight of a body pressed against her back.

Heart hammering in her chest, she lay still, torn between waking him up and leaning into the heat of his skin. His breath stirred the hair at the nape of her neck, sending shivers down her spine.

This is fine. Just... just scoot over.

Carefully, she shifted forward—

“Mmm... stay still,” Jamie murmured, voice thick with sleep as his arm tightened around her waist.

“Jamie—”

“Feels nice... you’re warm, love...” His hand slid against her stomach, fingers grazing the bare skin where her tank top had ridden up.

Her breath hitched. Heat pooled low in her belly, and suddenly, the air felt stifling.

“This is a terrible idea,” she whispered, though her body betrayed her, leaning back into the curve of his chest.

“Probably,” Jamie agreed softly, lips brushing her shoulder. His hand splayed against her stomach, fingers curling slightly as if testing the boundaries of what she’d allow. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

Silence hung heavy between them, charged with unspoken tension. Her pulse pounded in her ears as she closed her eyes and whispered:

“Don’t stop.”

!!!SMUT!!!

The whispered words barely left Y/N’s lips before Jamie moved. His hand, warm and slightly rough from years on the pitch, skimmed beneath her tank top, fingers grazing her ribs as he pressed a kiss to the curve of her neck. His breath was hot against her skin, and she gasped softly, her body arching instinctively toward his touch.

“You sure, love?” he murmured, lips brushing the shell of her ear. His voice was low, rough with sleep and something darker—something that made heat coil low in her stomach.

“I’m sure,” she whispered, already breathless.

Jamie’s hand slid higher, fingers ghosting over the swell of her breast, teasing but not quite touching as he pressed his hips against her backside. She could feel him—all of him—and the realization sent a pulse of heat through her veins.

“Fuck, you feel so good…” he breathed, lips trailing down the side of her neck, leaving a path of open-mouthed kisses that made her toes curl. His hand finally closed over her breast, thumb circling her nipple through the thin fabric of her tank top, and she bit her lip to hold back a moan.

The air seemed to thicken around them, humid and heavy with the sound of their breathing. The distant crash of waves outside faded into the background as Jamie shifted, rolling her onto her back so he could hover over her. Moonlight spilled through the sheer curtains, painting silver shadows across his face—sharp cheekbones, parted lips, eyes dark with want as he looked down at her.

“Been wantin’ you for so long,” he murmured, almost to himself. His hand slid beneath her tank top, skin to skin now as he thumbed her nipple, drawing a soft gasp from her throat. “Used to drive me mad, watchin’ you at the matches, always actin’ like I was some prick you couldn’t stand…”

“Because you were a prick,” she shot back, breathless but unable to stop the retort.

Jamie chuckled, low and rough, as his hand slid down her stomach, fingers brushing the waistband of her sleep shorts. “Yeah, maybe… but you still looked at me like you wanted this. Didn’t you?”

“I—” Her words caught in her throat as his fingers slipped beneath her shorts, teasing over her hip bone before sliding lower. His eyes never left hers, watching her with a mix of heat and something almost… reverent.

“Tell me, love,” he whispered. “You want me?”

“God, yes,” she breathed.

Jamie kissed her then—hard and deep, like he’d been holding himself back for years. His hand slid between her thighs, fingers stroking her through her underwear, and she gasped into his mouth, hips bucking against his hand as heat pooled low in her belly.

“So wet for me…” he murmured against her lips, sliding her underwear aside to tease her with slow, deliberate strokes that had her nails digging into his shoulders. His touch was maddening—just enough to tease but not enough to give her what she needed.

“Jamie—” Her voice broke on a gasp as he slid a finger inside her, slow and deliberate, curling just right as his thumb circled her clit. Her back arched, and he took the opportunity to kiss down her neck, tongue tracing the hollow of her throat as he worked her toward the edge.

“God, you’re so beautiful like this…” His voice was rough with want, but there was something tender in the way he touched her, like this moment meant more than just lust. Like she was something precious.

She was already so close, pleasure building with each deliberate stroke of his fingers, each kiss pressed to her skin. Clutching at his shoulders, she pulled him into another kiss, swallowing his groan as she rocked against his hand.

“Let go for me, love… Wanna feel you come,” he whispered against her lips.

The words—soft, raw, and desperate—pushed her over the edge. Her whole body tensed, pleasure crashing through her in waves as she gasped his name against his mouth. Jamie held her through it, fingers moving slower as she trembled beneath him, lips brushing her cheek, her jaw, her lips as if grounding her through the aftershocks.

!!!SMUT OVER!!!

Silence fell heavy between them, save for the sound of their breathing. Y/N lay still, chest rising and falling as the haze of pleasure slowly began to clear. Jamie pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his hand sliding from beneath her shorts to rest against her hip.

For the first time that night, the teasing glint in his eyes was gone. In its place was something softer. Almost vulnerable.

“I wasn’t jokin’, y’know,” he said quietly. “When I said I’ve wanted you for ages. It’s not just ‘cause you’re fit—which you are, obviously—but… I dunno. You’re just… different.”

Her heart, still racing from what they’d just done, stumbled in her chest. She searched his face, unsure if she’d imagined the raw honesty in his voice. “Jamie…”

“I know I can be a bit of a prick sometimes,” he added with a crooked smile, like he was trying to lighten the mood, but his eyes stayed serious. “But with you… I don’t wanna be that guy. I just wanna make you smile. Even if I’ve been absolute shit at it so far.”

Y/N stared at him, torn between the memory of all the times he’d flirted and teased her just to get a reaction—and the man lying beside her now, bare and open in a way she’d never seen before.

“I thought you just liked winding me up,” she admitted, her voice soft.

“Yeah… ‘Cause I didn’t know how else to get you to notice me.” Jamie’s thumb traced slow circles against her hip, his gaze searching hers like he was bracing for rejection. “But I swear, love… this—you—mean more to me than just some shag.”

The vulnerability in his voice cracked something open in her chest. Before she could second-guess herself, she cupped his face in her hands and kissed him—soft and slow this time, with none of the heat from before but something far more dangerous.

Something real.

Jamie melted into the kiss with a soft sound, his hand sliding up to rest over hers as if holding her in place. When they pulled apart, their foreheads rested together, breath mingling in the space between them.

“Maybe you’re not as much of a prick as I thought,” she murmured, just to see the way his smile broke through the last bit of tension in the air.

“Oi, don’t go gettin’ soft on me now, love,” he teased, but his voice was hoarse, and the way he held her—like she was something fragile he didn’t want to break—spoke volumes more than his words.

They didn’t say anything else after that. They didn’t need to.

When she fell asleep, it was with Jamie’s arms wrapped tightly around her, holding her close as if afraid she’d vanish come morning.

Sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. Y/N stirred, the faint sound of waves and distant laughter pulling her from sleep. The sheets were tangled around her legs, and the pillow wall was long forgotten—replaced by the solid warmth of Jamie’s body pressed against her back, his arm draped over her waist.

Smiling sleepily, she glanced over her shoulder—only to find Jamie already awake, watching her with a soft, almost shy smile.

“Mornin’, love,” he murmured, voice rough from sleep.

“Morning,” she replied, her heart flipping at the way his smile widened.

“Y’know… I reckon this whole room mix-up weren’t so bad after all, I could get used to this...” he said, fingers tracing lazy patterns against her hip.

Y/N chuckled softly. “Don’t let Keeley hear you say that. She’ll take credit for matchmaking.”

Jamie laughed, pressing a kiss to her shoulder before pulling her closer. “Eh, maybe I’ll let her. Long as I get to keep you.”

And just like that, her heart wasn’t just flipping—it was free-falling.

Maybe Hawaii wasn’t so bad after all.

[waitforyrlove]

˙ . ꒷ introducing personal trainer ! drew . 𖦹˙—

meeting personal trainer ! drew for the first time.

he was everything, the kind of face you only see on screens, plastered across the internet, his name etched in the credits of blockbuster movies. He was untouchable, a admiration you could only admire from afar. But then, like a joke, the universe aligned in the strangest way. Through some twist of fate—or your mom’s ability to network with his mom—Drew wasn’t just a distant person anymore. He was here, in your orbit, as a personal trainer assigned to you.

it was the kind of collision that could split universes.

you arrived at the gym, your heart thudding like a bad drum solo, the weight of it all pressing heavier than anything. The place was nearly empty, a quiet stage set for an encounter that felt both surreal and terrifying. He wasn’t just the guy from your screen anymore, he was in flesh and bone, waiting for you in a space where every little thing could happen.

you gripped the door handle and paused. This wasn’t just a meeting. This was like stepping into a parallel universe.

you stepped inside, the cool air of the gym hitting your face like reality itself. The place smelled of fresh rubber mats and faintly of sweat—you scanned the space, your breath catching when you spotted him.

he wasn’t posing for a camera or performing. He was leaning casually against a weight rack, scrolling through his phone, his jawline sharp enough to cut through your nerves. His hair was tousled in that effortlessly perfect way. He looked up as you entered, his face breaking into a smile that made him seem… normal, almost.

“You must be my new client,” he said, his voice warm and inviting. Not rehearsed. Not scripted. Just real.

you nodded, suddenly hyper-aware of every move you made. Did your gym clothes look okay? Were your sneakers too scuffed? Could he tell you’d Googled him for hours last night, trying to prepare yourself for this moment?

“Don’t be nervous,” he added, as if reading your mind. “Everyone starts somewhere.” He motioned for you to join him, his tone as casual as if you were old friends meeting up instead of a star and some random gym-goer linked by their moms’ ability to link.

you walked over, still trying to believe this was happening. He picked up a clipboard and scanned it like he’d done this a hundred times before, but you couldn’t help wondering what was going through his mind. Was this just another gig for him? A break from the spotlight? Or did he see this as a chance to be… normal, even for a moment?

“All right,” he said, looking up at you with a grin. “Let’s start with something easy. How’s your stamina?”

you almost laughed out loud at the question. Not great, you wanted to say, considering it had taken all your emotional reserves just to show up today. But instead, you nodded and stammered, “It’s… okay, I guess.”

Drew’s grin widened, and he grabbed a pair of light dumbbells. “Let’s warm up. And don’t worry, you’re in good hands.”

you didn’t know if it was the charisma, the absurdity of the situation, or the way he spoke like he actually believed it, but for the first time, you let yourself relax. Maybe, just maybe, this collision of worlds wasn’t as terrifying as you thought.

the warm-up was harmless enough—light weights, stretches, and a jog on the treadmill that had your legs feeling slightly wobbly. he kept it professional, guiding you with the calm authority of someone who knew exactly what he was doing. Still, every time he brushed past or adjusted your form, you felt like a live wire, your body hyperaware of his presence.

the came the squats.

“Okay,” Drew said, grabbing a barbell and loading it with what looked like a manageable amount of weight. “Squats are all about form. It’s not about how much you can lift—it’s about doing it right. Otherwise, you’re asking for an injury.” He turned to you, his smile teasing. “And trust me, I’m not letting that happen, yeah?”

you nodded, trying to focus on his words rather than the way his fitted shirt clung to his chest, his abs more predominant than ever. He positioned you in front of the squat rack, stepping closer than before. “I’m going to check your form,” he said, his voice low and deliberate, “so don’t freak out if I adjust you a bit.”

your pulse quickened as you slid under the barbell, your hands gripping the cool steel. You tried to focus on the instructions—feet shoulder-width apart, core engaged—but it was impossible with Drew standing so close, his presence magnetic.

you lowered into the first squat, your movements stiff and uncertain. “Not bad,” he mutters, his voice warm. “But you’re leaning forward a bit too much. Here.” He stepped behind you, his hands lightly grazing your hips. The contact sent a jolt up your spine.

“Relax,” he said softly, his tone soothing. “i’m just helping you align.” His hands guided your hips back slightly, his fingertips firm but careful. He was so close now that you could feel the heat radiating off him, his breath brushing the back of your neck as he spoke. “Imagine you’re sitting down in a chair—hips back, chest up. Got it?”

“Y-yeah,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. You dropped into another squat, this time following his adjustments. His hands lingered for a moment, steadying you, and you swore you felt his thumbs press slightly as if to reassure you.

“Perfect,” he whispers, his voice dipping just enough to make your stomach flip. “you’ve got it now.”

you straightened, trying to calm the pounding in your chest, but he wasn’t done. “Let’s do a few more reps,” he said, stepping even closer. “and I’ll spot you to make sure you stay balanced.

you swallowed hard and lowered again, the weight pressing down on your shoulders. This time, Drew’s hands hovered near your waist, ready to catch you if you wobbled. His voice was steady, guiding you through each movement. “Nice, controlled. That’s it.”

with each rep, the air between you seemed to grow heavier, charged with something unspoken. On the last squat, your legs trembled slightly, and Drew’s hands quickly caught your waist, steadying you before you could stumble.

“Hey, I’ve got you,” he said, his voice close to your ear now. His grip was firm, his fingers pressing against your sides just enough to ground you. For a second, you were aware of everything—his strength, his scent, the way his body seemed to align perfectly with yours.

you straightened up, the barbell returning to the rack with a loud clang. Drew stepped back, giving you space, but the look in his eyes lingered—a flicker of something that wasn’t entirely professional.

“Nice work,” he said, his smile back, though his voice carried an edge of something deeper. “you’re a quick learner.”

you tried to play it cool, wiping your palms on your leggings, but your heart was still racing. Maybe it was just the workout. Or maybe… it wasn’t.

his words hung in the air, laced with that playful undertone that made it impossible to ignore the tension building between you. He stepped forward again, just enough to breach your personal space, as if testing an invisible boundary. His eyes searched yours, a glint of mischief sparking behind them.

“I bet I can push you just a little more.”

your breath hitched, was he still talking about training?

before you could answer, Drew reached past you, his arm brushing yours as he adjusted the barbell on the rack. His proximity sent a shiver down your spine. “How about we finish with one more set?” he suggested, his voice dropping an octave. “This time, we’ll add a little more weight. You up for the challenge?”

“I… think so,” you managed, though your voice came out shakier than you’d intended.

“Good,” he said, stepping back with a sly smile. “But we’re doing this together.”

your brows furrowed. “Together?”

he nodded, already removing his hoodie to reveal a snug tank top that clung to his toned frame. “A little extra motivation goes a long way.” He gestured for you to get into position under the bar. As you did, he stepped behind you once more, closer than before.

“This time,” he murmured, his voice low and intimate, “i’ll hold the bar with you. Don’t worry—I’ll take some of the weight if it gets too much.”

your heart was hammering in your chest as you slid your hands back onto the bar. You felt his hands move next to yours, his grip firm and steady. His body was so close now that you could feel the warmth radiating off him, his chest just barely brushing your back.

“Ready?” he asked, his tone making the word feel loaded.

“Yeah,” you whispered, though it came out more like a breath.

“Good,” he said, leaning closer, his breath grazing the shell of your ear. “now let’s make this count.”

as you lowered into the squat, Drew followed, his body moving in perfect sync with yours. His hands remained firm on the bar, but you couldn’t ignore the way his chest seemed to align perfectly with your back, his presence both steadying and electric.

“That’s it,” he said, his voice smooth and encouraging. “keep your core tight. I’ve got you.”

when you rose, your legs trembling slightly under the weight, Drew didn’t let go. Instead, his hands shifted subtly, his fingers grazing yours. “You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for,” he murmured, his tone carrying a hint of something more than just encouragement.

you glanced back over your shoulder, catching the flicker of heat in his gaze. For a moment, the gym seemed to fade away, the sounds of clanging weights and distant music muted by the intensity of the moment.

“You okay?” Drew asked, his lips curving into a smirk that was equal parts concern and challenge.

“Yeah,” you said, your voice a little steadier now. “Let’s do one more.”

his grin widened, his eyes never leaving yours as he leaned in just a fraction closer. “That’s what I like to hear.”

you weren’t sure whether it was the workout, the proximity, or the way his voice seemed to wrap around you like a promise, but as you lowered into that final squat, you knew one thing for sure—Drew wasn’t just pushing your limits in the gym. He was blurring the line between professional and something far more dangerous.

[notiddygothgf]

i.

★ pairings: aki hayakawa x fem reader

★ ❝Baby, you're a star. Fuck me all night. Show me who you are, Pornstar.❞

★ c.w.: me rushing through plotbuilding to get to the good stuff, aki being an asshole, tension.

★ a/n: hiiiii! im so excited for this lil short story. its just something i was inspired to write while finishing up shameless. i thought... wow i love writing simp aki. now what if he was mean.... hrnngfhghj.... anyway so this is the fruit of that! i hope you enjoy, i should have the next chapter up soon if my studies permit!!!!! enjoy and leave lots of comments (ill update quicker if u do tee hee)

★ w.c: .5.2k

pornstar ; chapter index

AKI HAYAKAWA WAS infuriating. As a Captain, he was capable. As a man? He was, single-handedly, without a doubt, the most insufferable individual you had ever had the displeasure of working with. He had this "I'm-better-than-everyone" sort of approach to life, was impossible to conversate with, and had no regard for leniency or any other sort of thing that required him to have basic human decency. He was a machine – all he cared about was work, work, devils, Miss Makima's orders, and work. You knew that any human who had gone through what he had gone through would be a little rough around the edges, but "rough" was an understatement. He was an asshole.

Still, he was undeniably attractive. Considerably handsome. He had the most striking blue eyes – an almost elvish face partially hidden behind his midnight black hair. You had never seen it out of its signature ponytail, but his bangs were fluffy enough for you to know that it was soft. Rosy pink lips that seemed to permanently rest in a scowl and a jawline that could cut steel topped it all off.

Additionally, he was a horror to work with. 

Exhibit A:

One day, after a mission, you were trying (unceremoniously) to use your sword the way you had seen Captain Hayakawa do once before. It was something you hadn't seen before, a flick of the wrist, a movement of the arm, you weren't quite sure. Regardless, it had been smooth, and you needed to have something that looked cool in your itinerary.

So you spun the sword around the way he had. And, of course, the sword promptly flew out of your hand and landed on the floor five feet away with a resounding clatter – one that attracted the gazes of the rest of your team (including him).

"What the hell are you trying to do? Kill us?" He had asked.

Embarrassed, you tried to cover up for yourself, "I was trying to recreate this one move I saw you do earlier, but I think I need to work on my form."

He scowled then, perfect eyebrows drawn together, and grumbled, "You want my advice? Give up."

Exhibit B: 

Your team was investigating an abandoned building on the outskirts of Tokyo. Captain Hayakawa was, as per usual, leading the pack. Following close behind him (because, admittedly, you were a little scared of the dark and he was holding the flashlight), you were at eye-level with his back, and he had... quite an intimidating physique, but that was a story for another time. 

(Still, for the reference, the hard, muscled planes of his back practically obstructed your entire field of vision).

"We've been searching for hours now, Aki," Himeno sighed, crossing her arms after reaching into her pocket and fishing out a cigarette. Somewhere in the back of your head, you remembered your Public Safety trainer telling you that it was bad practice to introduce fire to uncertain situations. "Might be time to give it a break."

"Maybe we can split off into groups?" You suggested, "We might be able to cover more ground that way."

He paused, then, glancing over his shoulder – cobalt eyes partially hidden by the dim light, "Butt out."

Alright then.

Exhibit C:

Denji burst out laughing, nearly choking on his food. "Nah, nah—hold up, say that again! That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard." 

You smirked, swirling your drink. "I'm just saying, Denji. If you actually tried using your brain once in a while, it might not be so bad for you." 

Denji scoffed. "Like you're one to talk!" 

Aki exhaled sharply through his nose, setting his chopsticks down with a quiet clack. His patience, already thin, finally snapped. He glanced between the two of you, his expression flat, voice edged with irritation. 

"It's funny how you morons flock together, isn't it?" 

Denji's grin faltered. You shifted in your seat, the weight of Aki's words settling over the table like a heavy fog. 

No one said anything after that. The conversation was over.

So, yes, in short, he was impossible. His attitude and yours made for a deadly combo – namely, that the two of you were constantly butting heads. You weren't quite sure why everyone but you seemed to get along with him just fine – was he different towards you? Were you imagining it? Were you the problem?

Even Himeno was starstruck by the guy. Now, admittedly, he was handsome. Still, that wasn't an excuse to be an asshole.

Presently, you were on a mission, standing around in some damp, dimly lit alley with Himeno, Aki, Denji, and Power. The target—a devil you were supposed to be tracking—had yet to show itself, and the whole thing had devolved into a waiting game. A miserable, frustrating waiting game. 

At least Himeno was good company. You leaned against the wall beside her, arms crossed, your breath fogging slightly in the cold night air. 

"I swear, if we wait any longer, I'm gonna fuse with the concrete," you muttered. 

Himeno laughed, nudging your shoulder with hers. "That'd make things interesting. Maybe we'd finally get some action." 

Aki, stationed a few feet away, turned his head slightly at the sound of your conversation. "Shut up," he said, voice low and firm. "We're working." 

You sighed, long and theatrical. "Bruh. We've been here for three hours, waiting for something to happen. If it hasn't by now, it's not gonna." 

Denji, crouched a little ways off, perked up at that. "For real, man. I say we just bust in somewhere and start smashing shit until something shows up." 

Power grinned, baring her teeth. "Yes! At last, a plan worth considering! Denji, you are a true genius." 

Aki exhaled sharply, the kind of exhale that carried the weight of profound disappointment. "If the two of you move from that spot, I swear to god—" 

"Relax," you interrupted, smirking. "No one's actually gonna do anything. We're just talking." 

Aki's gaze snapped to you. "That's the problem. Talking gets in the way of listening." 

You raised an eyebrow. "Listening to what? The sound of absolutely nothing happening?" 

For a second, his jaw twitched—just a little, just enough for you to catch it—but he said nothing, just turned his attention back to the alley. 

Himeno shot you a knowing look, grinning. You had a feeling she found the whole thing amusing. Maybe because she knew Aki well enough to see what you couldn't. 

Denji stretched his arms above his head with a groan. "Man, I hope this devil shows up soon. I'm starving." 

"You're always starving," Power said. "'Tis because you are a weak and pathetic man." 

"At least I ain't lying about it," Denji shot back. 

Himeno shook her head, laughing under her breath. You smiled too, despite yourself. Because honestly? As much as you hated standing around doing nothing, there were worse people to be stuck with.

After the investigation scene was cleared – a gruesome hour later – you and Himeno sat on a rock outside the building. A cigarette burned between her fingertips. You didn't smoke, but the smell didn't bother you – not nearly as much as it used to. So, instead of complaining, the two of you sat in companionable silence. She smoked and you... well, you told yourself you were relaxing, but that was a lie.

No, deep down, you knew you were staring right at the illustrious lieutenant captain Hayakawa, watching him take his smoke break a pointed ten yards away from the two of you – smoke practically pouring out of your ears.

Way to make it clear that you're not interested in conversing, you thought.

God, he's such a stuck-up prick.

You had a mission report to give him, a summary of damages and whatnot, something stupid like that, but you were dreading giving it. If Himeno wasn't taking her much deserved smoke break, you would have asked her to do it. 

You supposed it was unavoidable.

"I gotta give the mission brief to stick-in-the-ass," You sighed, turning your head to the side to size her up.

She winced, then chuckled. "He's not so bad."

"Yeah, to you," You whined. "I swear, he has it out for me."

"I think you're right, actually," She hummed, tapping the end of her cigarette and spreading the ash on the ground. "I wonder what you did."

Exasperatedly, you threw your hands out, whisper-shouting, "Nothing!"

"Wanna ask him?" She teased, kicking you in the shin with her boot. 

"Not a chance," You answered. Still, standing up and dusting off your knees, you added, "I'm gonna get it over with."

Himeno waved you off with a lazy flick of her wrist, taking another slow drag from her cigarette. "Good luck," she said, exhaling smoke through her nose. "Try not to pick a fight."

You scoffed. "I don't pick fights."

Himeno gave you a pointed look.

"...Not on purpose."

She laughed as you turned away, rubbing at the spot where she'd kicked your shin. With each step toward Aki, your reluctance grew heavier, settling in your stomach like a stone. He hadn't looked at you once—not even when you'd gotten up, not when your boots scraped against the pavement, not when you stopped just a few feet away.

You cleared your throat. "Mission report."

That finally got his attention. He flicked ash from his cigarette, eyes shifting toward you, dark and unreadable in the dim alley light. "Go ahead."

Right. Because heaven forbid he make things easy.

You inhaled sharply through your nose, forcing yourself to keep your tone professional. "Minimal collateral damage. No casualties. Devil confirmed dead." You paused, watching for some kind of reaction. When none came, you added, "Oh, and Power punched a hole through the third-floor wall. Don't ask me why."

Aki's brow twitched—just a little, just enough for you to catch it. "I see."

Silence.

That was it? Not even a sigh, a comment, an ounce of acknowledgment? You gritted your teeth.

"That's it? You see?"

Aki took another slow drag, exhaling through his nose like he was already tired of this conversation. "What do you want me to say?"

"I don't know, maybe 'Thanks for telling me, oh esteemed and respected colleague,'" you deadpanned, shifting your weight onto one leg.

Aki exhaled sharply—right in your face. A deliberate stream of smoke curled into your eyes, stinging, making you cough.

You recoiled, waving a hand in front of your face. "Oh, screw you," you muttered, blinking against the burn.

Aki didn't react. Not a smirk, not a flicker of amusement—just that same blank stare as he took one last drag, then flicked the cigarette to the ground. The quiet scrape of his Converse sneaker grinding it into the pavement felt just as dismissive as the way he looked through you.

"Go get some rest," he said, tone clipped, final. Then he turned and walked off, leaving you standing there, fists clenched, scowling after him.

God, he was impossible.

You spun on your heel and stormed back toward Himeno, already composing the exact rant you were about to unload on her.

The aftermath of one particular mission had been messy. The kind of messy that left the street littered with rubble, the air thick with dust, and your muscles aching from overuse. The scent of blood and burning filled your lungs. Somewhere in the distance, a car alarm was blaring, and you could hear Power cackling about something—probably the chaos she had personally contributed to—but your attention was locked onto the man standing in front of you. 

Aki was rigid, shoulders squared, his coat hanging loose where the fabric had been torn. His hair was a little mussed—annoyingly attractive, even now—but it was his expression that held you in place. 

Cold. Impassive. But beneath that, a restrained, simmering anger, the kind that barely clung to the edges of control. 

And then, suddenly, he moved. 

The way he turned toward you wasn't abrupt—it was slow, deliberate, every step measured. His presence alone was enough to make you tense, though you refused to show it. When he spoke, his voice was low and steady, but every syllable was razor-sharp. 

"What the hell were you thinking?" 

The words struck harder than you expected, sinking under your skin before you could throw up any defenses. You were still catching your breath, sweat cooling against your skin, adrenaline still singing in your veins, but you forced yourself to straighten, shaking off the weight of his scrutiny. 

You lifted a hand, swiping away some of the blood smeared across your cheek— not yours, thankfully—and shrugged, keeping your voice as casual as possible. 

"I was thinking that I got the job done." 

Aki's expression didn't change, but something in his jaw ticked. He ran a hand through his midnight colored bangs, exhaling sharply through his nose. You could see the way his patience frayed, hanging by a thread, stretched taut and ready to snap. 

"The job," he echoed flatly, like the word itself irritated him. "Right. And what about the building you nearly leveled?" 

You scoffed, crossing your arms. "It wasn't that bad." 

Aki's eyes darkened, his expression shifting into something heavier. "Three floors caved in," he said, tone low and measured, but beneath the restraint, you could hear the crack of irritation bleeding through. 

He stepped closer, not enough to be aggressive, but enough that you felt it—the weight of his anger pressing into you, the sheer force of his presence making it harder to breathe. 

"Do you even understand how reckless that was?" 

Your fingers curled into fists. Of course, you understood. You understood that things had gotten messy, that your plan hadn't been the safest, but what pissed you off the most wasn't that he was right—it was that he always acted like he was the only one who was right. Like you were some reckless idiot who didn't think things through. 

Your jaw tightened. "It wasn't like I had a choice," you shot back. "I did what I had to do." 

It was different, this time. Aki took another step forward, and this time, you felt the air shift between you, thick with something you didn't want to name. His movements were precise, controlled, but his eyes—his eyes—were burning with something deeper. 

"You don't get to decide that," he said, voice quieter now, but no less cutting. "You follow orders. You don't play hero." 

You swallowed hard. 

The way he was looking at you made heat crawl up your spine, frustration twisting into something else—something that had nothing to do with anger and everything to do with how unfairly attractive he was when he was pissed off. 

Your fingers twitched at your sides. "If I hadn't done what I did, people could've died." 

Aki's jaw tightened. "If you keep pulling reckless shit like that, you're going to die." 

His words hit harder than they should have, but you refused to let them sink in. Instead, you glared, chin tilting up defiantly even as your breath hitched. 

"And I'm not cleaning up your mess when it happens," he muttered. 

There was something in his tone—something unreadable, something you almost wanted to reach for, like he was trying to cover up the fact that he might have cared about you a little bit—but before you could, before you could shove back with another retort or demand what the hell he actually meant by that, he turned. 

Without another word, he walked off, leaving you standing there, heart racing, thoughts in complete disarray. 

You exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down your face. 

God, you really needed therapy. 

Or maybe I just need to get laid? You thought. Perhaps it was the involuntary celibacy getting to you.

You decided that you needed both.

Mission get laid was a lot easier said than done. In your line of work, people often didn't last long enough to fuck around. If they did, they were assholes (not pointing fingers at anyone in particular). A few weeks later, and you were aching for some action. Everything seemed to piss you off a little more than usual. In fact, someone seemed to piss you off more than usual.

Hayakawa the cockblock.

You didn't know when you started thinking of him like that, but the title fit. It wasn't just that Aki was always there—it was that he seemed to have a personal vendetta against anyone who so much as looked at you the wrong way. If a guy even considered flirting with you, Aki had something to say about it. If a conversation lasted longer than a few words, Aki was there, lurking like a shadow, arms crossed, expression unreadable but just judgmental enough to kill the mood.

It was frustrating. More than frustrating. You were an adult. You could make your own decisions. You could handle yourself.

Which made this all the more annoying.

You had been talking to one of the newer guys, a hunter from another division, who, for once, wasn't a total weirdo or an asshole. He was tall, dark-haired, had one of those easy grins that made it clear he knew exactly how attractive he was—but not in an annoying way.

And he was into you. That much was obvious.

He had slid up beside you while you were taking a break, an easy smirk on his lips as he leaned against the railing beside you.

"You always look this intense?" he asked, tilting his head toward you.

You quirked a brow, unimpressed. "You always this nosy?"

He laughed, and okay—maybe it was kind of a nice laugh. He held his hands up in mock surrender. "Can't blame me for trying to get to know the prettiest hunter in the division."

You snorted, rolling your eyes, but the corner of your lips twitched upward. "Is that what you tell all the girls?"

"Only the ones who might actually kill me," he shot back, grinning.

Alright. Maybe this wasn't the worst conversation you'd had in weeks. He was easy to talk to, and more importantly, he wasn't running for the hills after five minutes of conversation.

"So, drinks after work?" he asked, cutting straight to the point. "I know a place."

And you were considering it. Actually considering it. What was the harm? A drink, some harmless flirting—

But before you could so much as open your mouth—

"Get back to work."

Your entire body tensed. That voice. Of course.

You turned your head just enough to see him. Aki stood a few feet away, arms crossed, expression blank but so obviously irritated that you had to bite back a groan.

The guy beside you straightened a little, caught off guard by the interruption. "I was just—"

"You were slacking off," Aki cut in, voice sharp, authoritative. "We're not done here."

You huffed, shoulders dropping. "Oh, come on," you said, turning to him fully now. "Are you serious?"

Aki didn't even look at you. His gaze stayed fixed on the other hunter, cool and dismissive. "You have a job to do," he said simply. "So do we."

The guy beside you hesitated, glancing between you and Aki, clearly weighing whether this was a fight worth picking. After a beat, he let out a breath and muttered a quick, "See you around," before walking off, scratching the back of his neck.

You watched him go, feeling the frustration coil tight in your stomach before you rounded on Aki.

"What the hell was that?"

"Flirting on the job is unprofessional," he said flatly.

You scowled. "I wasn't. He was asking me out for drinks."

Aki didn't react, just stared at you, unblinking, unimpressed. "Don't get drinks with him."

You narrowed your eyes. "Oh? Why's that?"

"He's not trustworthy."

"Oh, please." You scoffed. "You don't even know him."

Aki's jaw tightened. "Doesn't matter."

You crossed your arms, staring at him hard. "Why?"

He didn't answer right away. He just looked at you. That cold, assessing look, the kind that made your skin prickle, like he was peeling back your layers, picking apart your intentions before you even had the chance to understand them yourself.

And then, finally—

"Just don't."

Something inside you twisted, irritation spiking high, sharp. You tilted your head, expression turning coy, teasing, because if he was going to be insufferable, you might as well make him suffer for it.

"What, you worried about me?"

Aki's expression didn't change. But his eyes darkened, just a fraction, and for a split second, you thought—maybe—that you saw something else flicker behind them.

But whatever it was, it was gone before you could name it.

"Get your head out of your ass," he muttered, and before you could fire back, he turned and walked off, leaving you standing there, fists clenched, frustration bubbling over into something you weren't quite ready to deal with.

You let out a slow breath, forcing your shoulders to relax.

The silence felt heavier now. The absence of the guy who had been flirting with you only made it worse—like the moment had been stolen right out from under you. You turned your head slightly, watching Aki's retreating figure, and something about the way he walked—stiff, tense—made you wonder.

Was it really about professionalism? Or was it something else entirely?

You exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down your face.

Hayakawa the cockblock strikes again.

You swore to God—one of these days, you were going to figure him out.

And when you did?

You weren't sure who would come out of it in one piece.

Late one evening, heart racing in your chest, you raised a hand to knock at Captain Hayakawa's door. You hadn't been sure whether or not he would have even been in so late, but you saw the telltale light shining through from beneath his door, and you knew he was working later than usual. So, gathering your wits and your courage (and smoothing your hands over your clothes to correct your appearance), you finally knocked.

It was answered with a faint, "Come in." Something only he could make sound scary, truly.

Be brave. Be brave, you told yourself. You had spent the entire way over here deliberating what you would say to him once you had him face-to-face – a lie you had rehearsed to explain your absence from work in a few days, something about your grandmother being sick, typical par for the course. You couldn't back down. Not now. Instead of running away like you really wanted to (because you knew that once you were inside, it would be just you and him, and you weren't entirely sure you were ready for that), you entered.

You poked your head in first. Swallowing the thickness that had settled in the depths of your throat, you called out to him, "Sorry to bother you so late, Captain."

He was sitting all alone inside, hair neatly done back – and, for a moment, you couldn't help the fleeting thought that he might have straightened out his appearance in the few seconds it had took him to respond to your knock. Papers were sprawled out over the length of his desk in neat stacks. The room was dimly lit, save for a lamp at his desk. He had a pen pinched between his index finger and his thumb, tip tapping mindlessly against the wooden surface. 

Beneath the dim light, he looked a little older than you knew him to be. He was either 20 or 21, you couldn't quite remember. Either way, he was only a year or two older than yourself, but the experience gap was noticeable. You knew that could easily be attributed to the psychological horrors he had witnessed at a young and impressionable age, but that was a type of business you tried not to mind. The bags under his eyes were a little more pronounced than usual, blue eyes half-lidded and droopy, like he was trying not to pass out.

His eyes dropped to your shoes, then raked themselves up your tense form. You writhed beneath the heat of his gaze.

God, I can never tell what he's thinking.

"Is something the matter?" He asked, something so remarkably normal and not angry that you had to actually do a double-take. When you said nothing, he curled a brow at you, waiting for your response. 

Now that you were actually standing there in his office, you were getting cold feet. No longer were you confident in the lie you had carefully conceived on the ride over. Truthfully, you had a date, but you knew you couldn't tell him that.

Was it that you knew or that you were ashamed?

Frighteningly enough, you weren't entirely sure. Either way, it felt like you were walking up to your father, about to tell him you had been hiding a boyfriend from him for the past year. 

So, switching your weight from foot to foot, you answered shakily, "I have... uh..." You swallowed, "I wanted to tell you that I won't be coming into work on Thursday."

That got his attention. He set the pen down, leaning back in his work chair and giving you the kind of look that could wither a fucking plant. "It's your responsibility to tell me a week in advance. That's when I make the schedules."

You hesitated, the weight of his gaze almost suffocating. The silence in the room stretched longer than it should have, thick and heavy with the unspoken words hanging in the air. You had to say something—anything—to break it.

"I'm... I'm visiting my sick grandmother," you said, the words feeling foreign as they left your lips. It was a story you had fabricated on the way here, an easy excuse that anyone could buy. But even as you said it, you felt a pang of guilt, like you were betraying something, someone.

Aki's eyes flickered over you, narrowing slightly, as though evaluating the sincerity of your statement. You couldn't read him—he was too good at keeping his thoughts hidden. For a brief moment, you wondered if he knew you were lying. His expression didn't change, but the air in the room seemed to grow colder, more tense.

"Alright," he said with a sigh, the words laced with resignation, though you couldn't quite tell whether it was disappointment or just weariness. "I'll make an exception. But don't make a habit of this."

His voice was the same as always—calm, almost too calm—but the underlying exhaustion was palpable, like he was just tired of dealing with people's excuses. You couldn't blame him for that. You knew he had been through more than his fair share of hardships, and the last thing he probably wanted was to deal with your little white lie.

You stood there for a moment, not sure what to do next, before Aki leaned back in his chair, picking up his pen again, signaling the end of the conversation. His focus returned to the papers on his desk, his posture relaxed, but something about the way he avoided your gaze made your stomach twist.

Before you could make a quick exit, something unplanned slipped from your mouth, almost without your permission.

"Hey, um... Himeno and I are going out for drinks tomorrow with some of the others from different divisions. You should come with us," you blurted out, the words catching in your throat as you said them. "It'd be nice if you joined us. We could all hang out for once. You know... get out of the office for a bit."

The request came out of nowhere, and you couldn't quite understand why you had said it. You had never once thought to invite Aki to something like this before. It felt... strange. You knew he wasn't exactly the social type, and you weren't even sure why you wanted him there in the first place. Maybe it was the loneliness that crept up on you during the long, sleepless nights. Maybe it was the faint hope that his presence would fill the empty spaces that seemed to grow wider between you and the people you worked with.

His gaze shot up to meet yours, and for a moment, you almost regretted speaking. He looked at you like you had just said something completely absurd, like it didn't even make sense.

"You want me to come out with you?" Aki asked, his tone a mix of incredulity and something else—maybe amusement, maybe suspicion. It was hard to tell with him.

"And Himeno. Yeah," You answered back, rather stupidly.

Your heart raced, and you shifted awkwardly on your feet, the uncertainty gnawing at you. Why had you invited him? You didn't even know why you wanted him there, why you felt this strange, impulsive need to extend an invitation. The thought of spending time with him outside of work—outside of the walls where everything was so professional and detached—seemed impossible. But here you were, offering him an out-of-place invitation to something that was supposed to be casual, easy, and fun.

Everything he was not.

"I mean, it's not like a big deal or anything," you continued, your voice faltering slightly. "It's just drinks with everyone... Himeno and some of the other teams. You could join us. It'll be a good way to unwind. We don't do this often, but..." You trailed off, suddenly unsure of yourself. "I don't know. You don't have to if you don't want to."

What the hell am I doing?

For a moment, Aki didn't say anything. He just stared at you, his expression unreadable, as if he were processing your words in his mind. He was quiet for too long, and you felt yourself growing more self-conscious by the second, like you had made a huge mistake.

But then, just as you were about to apologize for being so forward, he let out a soft sigh, one that barely registered as a sound.

"Alright," he said, his voice as flat as ever. "I'll think about it."

And just like that, the tension in the room seemed to dissipate. The cold, businesslike atmosphere returned, and you realized he wasn't going to press you further on it. But you still didn't understand why you had invited him. Why him? Of all the people, why did you want Aki to be there?

"Alright, goodnight then," you said, your voice sounding louder in your own ears than you intended. You started to turn toward the door, almost relieved that the conversation was over.

"Goodnight," he replied, already turning his attention back to his papers, not sparing you another glance.

You left his office, the door clicking shut behind you, but the weight of the interaction lingered in your chest. The invitation you had made—so impulsive, so sudden—felt strange. You didn't understand why you had said it, or why it felt like there was something more to it, something you couldn't quite place.

Why is my heart racing a mile a minute?

As you walked down the dimly lit hallway, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the night than you were letting on. A part of you wanted to retreat, to pretend it hadn't happened, but another part of you couldn't help but wonder what would happen if he said yes. 

Would it change things? Would it make you feel differently?

You didn't know the answers, but one thing was certain: something was different. Something you couldn't quite put your finger on.

No, you weren't going crazy. Something had shifted between the two of you.

a/n: okay so this is gonna be a lil short sum summm just to tide me over during these trying academic times. lmk what you thought! lmk if you enjoyed!!!!!!!! x

credits: einruji__ on twitter . I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!

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wanna join the taglist? | pornstar ; chapter index

[rod-tf]

New Gym, New Life

*This is my first story ever and english is not my first language so if there are any mistakes, I'm sorry. I hope you enjoy it!* -Rafi💚

Daniel and Alex had been together for five years, living happily in their cozy apartment in the city. Both in their late twenties, they prided themselves on staying fit and healthy.

When a new gym opened just a few blocks away, they decided to check it out. The gym, named "Sahara Fitness", had a unique and exotic vibe, with its rich gold and deep red color scheme, intricate geometric patterns, and Arabic calligraphy adorning the walls.

As they walked in, they noticed that all the staff and trainers were Arab men; tall, muscular, and radiating confidence and masculinity. They greeted Daniel and Alex with warm smiles, their deep voices resonating through the gym. Despite the clear cultural influence, the place seemed modern and well-equipped.

"Welcome to Sahara Fitness," one of the trainers, Malik, said in a thick accent. "You two look like you already know your way around a gym, but we like to offer something special to our new members. A gift to help you get the most out of your workout."

He handed them each a small, ornate container filled with a dark, powdery supplement. "This is a traditional blend, used for centuries to enhance strength and endurance. Try it out during your workout, and you'll feel the difference."

Daniel and Alex exchanged a glance. They were a bit skeptical but intrigued. They had tried all kinds of supplements before, so they figured it couldn’t hurt to try something new. Thanking Malik, they headed to the locker room to change.

Dressed in their usual gym gear, the couple mixed the supplement into their water bottles and sipped. The taste was strong, almost spicy, with a hint of something they couldn’t quite place. Shrugging it off, they began their workout routine, starting with some light cardio before moving on to weights.

As they started lifting, both noticed an unusual burst of energy coursing through their bodies. The weights felt lighter, their movements smoother. They exchanged a surprised look but continued their sets, pushing themselves harder than usual.

After a while, they noticed something even stranger. Their bodies began to feel different—stronger, more powerful. Alex glanced at his reflection in the mirror and did a double-take. His usually slim frame was starting to bulk up, and his muscles were swelling with each rep. His fair skin seemed to be taking on a slightly tanned hue, and his facial hair usually trimmed and light, was darkening and thickening.

"Dan, are you seeing this?" Alex whispered, his voice sounding deeper than usual.

Daniel, too, was undergoing a transformation. His once smooth face was shadowed with a thickening beard, his jawline sharpening. His normally light hair was darkening to a rich, deep brown, and his skin was also taking on a more olive tone.

They both felt a strange warmth spreading through them, almost like a fire igniting from within. Their minds began to feel fuzzy, thoughts of their usual life together growing distant. Instead, they were filled with an intense, almost primal desire to lift more, grow stronger, and assert their newfound masculinity.

As they continued working out, their transformations became more pronounced. Their bodies grew more muscular, their chests broadening, arms bulging with veins as their biceps swelled. The hair on their bodies thickened, and their once soft features became rugged and masculine. The changes weren't just physical; their minds were altering too.

Daniel, now with a full, dark beard and intense eyes, glanced at a group of women working out nearby. He felt an overwhelming attraction towards them, something he'd never experienced before. The thought of Alex, his partner, seemed oddly foreign, replaced by a burning desire to dominate, to conquer.

Alex, too, felt a shift. His mind, once full of love and tenderness for Daniel, was now clouded with lustful thoughts. But he wasn't thinking about Daniel; it was women with soft curves and alluring smiles. The idea of being with a man seemed almost laughable now.

They both finished their workout, breathing heavily, sweat dripping from their now muscular, tanned bodies. The gym’s atmosphere, once just a backdrop, now felt like home, where they belonged and could be their true selves.

As they headed back to the locker room, they caught sight of themselves in the mirror. Gone were Daniel and Alex, the cute, loving couple who had walked in earlier. In their place stood two Arab alpha males, their bodies sculpted and powerful, exuding raw masculinity. Their eyes were dark and intense, their gazes filled with a new hunger.

Malik appeared behind them, a knowing smile on his face. "Ah, I see the supplement has worked well. Welcome, brothers. You are now part of our tribe, our brotherhood. The old you is gone. You are reborn, stronger, and more powerful than ever."

Daniel, now calling himself Daoud, and Alex, now Ali, looked at each other and nodded. They felt no fear, no regret only acceptance and excitement. They had been transformed, not just physically but mentally. The bond they once shared as lovers was replaced with a new bond, brotherhood. And with it came a shared obsession, a desire for women that burned within them like never before.

"Bro, I can't believe how good this feels. I don't even know why we were ever together like that," Ali said, his eyes flickering with a new, primal energy.

Daoud smirked, flexing his arms, feeling the surge of power coursing through his veins. "Yeah, man. What were we thinking? This is what real life is about. We were just... confused before." He looked at the women working out nearby, his gaze filled with hunger. "Now, it's all about the chase, the thrill."

Ali nodded in agreement, his thoughts aligned with Daoud's. "Exactly, bro. Chicks, muscles, and dominating life. That's what we were meant for."

Daoud clapped on Ali's back, their bond now one of brotherhood and shared desires. "Let's go, man. Time to show the world what real men are made of."

They dressed in new clothes provided by the gym. traditional but modern arab-inspired attire that accentuated their muscular frames. As they walked out of the gym, they felt like kings, ready to conquer the world outside. Women turned to look at them, drawn to their confidence and masculinity. And as they exchanged a knowing glance, they knew that their lives had changed forever.

No longer the gentle, loving couple they once were, Daoud and Ali were now straight, Arab studs, obsessed with their newfound masculinity and the thrill of chasing after women.

[gamergirl929]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her throat bobbed as she took you in.  

You’d gotten taller, easily towering over her.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Everything is fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dad.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s bullshit Y/N, and you know-- 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alex...?”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I do care, Y/N.”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N, it’s okay, it’s me.”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You scoff.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But you’re welcome.”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It was your mother.”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He’s dying.”  

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

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

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

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

You chuckle.  

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

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

“What?” You ask, the forward shrugging.  

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

“Said some things.”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You swallow hard, your gaze falling to your lap.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I think I’d like that very much.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, let’s go.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, we’re at the hotel.” 

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

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

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

“I’ll go check us in.”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey.”  

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

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

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

“Yeah, I’m just fine.”  

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

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

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

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

“Oh my god.”  

You twist on your heels, your eyes wide.  

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

“What is— 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I— 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She licks her lips, inhaling deeply before continuing.  

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

She rests her forehead against yours.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’d love nothing more.”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Try to match me.”  

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, let’s go do that.”  

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

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

Your mother comes to a stop, her throat bobbing.  

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

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

Your mother frowns before nodding to the hospital.  

“This way.”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod, your throat bobbing.  

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

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

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

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

“There she is.”  

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

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

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

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

“Why?” You ask, laughing humorlessly.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How dare you— 

“How dare I?” You bark out a laugh.  

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

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

Alex turns to her.  

“This has been a long time coming, she needs this, let it happen.” She whispers, the woman shaking her head. 

“I never said I was sorry.” Your father mumbles and you’re unable to stop yourself from laughing.  

“Of course you didn’t, because you never felt bad for beating me.” You shake your head, the nurse, surprisingly, backing out of the room.  

“Well, you didn’t break me, you didn’t win.” You say, your hands balling into fists.  

“I came here to tell you that, and now that I did, I can move on with my life.” You say, turning towards Alex before leaving the room hastily, leaning against the wall outside of the room.  

Alex turns to your father, the man shooting her a glare, a glare she returns, her blue orbs smoldering.  

“You tried so hard to break her, but it didn’t work. She’s one of the best women I know, and I love her, more than you ever did, more than either of you ever did.” She snarls angrily, glancing at your mother who’s staring at the floor.  

“She’s better than either of you, she rose above your abuse and became an amazing and talented woman, someone I’m proud to call my girlfriend.” She says confidently, your eyes widening when you realize what Alex had just said.  

“Of course, as if she couldn’t disappoint me more.” Your father growls in reference to the fact that you and Alex were together.  

Your hands ball into fists, the thought of walking in and jacking his jaw prominent.  

“We don’t need your approval; we don’t want it.” She says, walking closer to the bed, the nurse who’d come in earlier coming towards you along with another nurse.  

“Y/N is a better person than you could ever hope be.” She growls, turning to make her way out of the room, shooting a glare over her shoulder.  

“I'm proud of her for coming here, for saying what she needed to say, and I know I put distance between the two of us growing up, but I’m going to be there for her no matter what, more than you ever were.”  She says before making her way out of the room, zeroing in on where you were leaning against a nearby wall.  

She hastily makes her way towards you, throwing her arms around you, squeezing you tightly.  

Unbeknownst to you, your mother had followed you out, wearing a frown.  

“I asked you not to upset him.”  

Alex relinquishes her hold on you, the two of you sending the older woman a piercing glare.  

“Well, I asked you to be there for me growing up, and you weren’t. Looks like neither of us got what we wanted.” You say, taking Alex’s hand, the nurses making their way towards you coming to a halt.  

“Don’t worry.” You say, glancing at the women.  

“We’re leaving.” You say, turning towards your mother.  

“The only reason you need to call me again is to tell me he’s dead.” You say, turning on your heels, and making your way down the hallway, Alex’s hand holding yours tightly. 

It’s only when you’re walking out of the hospital’s entrance that you break down, falling to your knees, your body wracked with sobs.  

Alex drops down beside you, wrapping her arms tightly around you as you sob loudly against her chest, the relief of finally telling your father how you felt, making you emotional.  

“You did it, Y/N. I’m so proud of you.” Alex whispers, running her fingers through your hair as she coos softly in your ear.  

You sniffle, tears streaming down your face, your nose running as you cry against her chest.  

Eventually, you fall silent, your body twitching every so often as you sniff.  

You pull back, your bloodshot Y/E/C orbs meeting Alex’s red rimmed blues.  

She cups your cheeks, leaning her forehead against your own.  

“How do you feel?” She asks as you breathe in deep, filling your lungs with air, your chest no longer feeling as tight as it did.  

You sigh, cupping her cheeks, wiping the tears Alex didn’t realize were streaming down her cheeks away. 

“Lighter.” You say softly, bumping your nose against Alex’s.  

You fall silent before your lips split in a grin.  

“Girlfriend, huh?” You tease, her cheeks flushing.  

“I-I mean...” She stutters, cut off by your lips meeting hers in a tender, chaste kiss.  

“I do like the sound of that.” You smile, Alex throwing her arms around you, giving you a tight squeeze.  

The two of you eventually make your way towards Alex’s car, your chest feeling lighter than it ever had before.  

“I’m so proud of you.” Alex says as she slips into the driver’s seat.  

You turn back towards the hospital, staring up at the hospital where your mother and father currently were, an abusive man you’d finally told how you felt, a demon from your past that you’d finally faced and conquered.  

You smile, slipping in the passenger's seat beside Alex, the woman immediately taking your hand.  

“You know.” You pause, turning towards Alex who’s wearing a tender smile.  

Your own lips split in a grin.  

“I’m proud of me too.” 

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

It’s nearly two years later that you find yourself back in your hometown, rain pouring down around you as you stand at your father’s grave.  

You stare down at the stone stoically, noting the fact that it doesn’t say anything about being a loving father, but only a loving husband.  

Your eyes widen when a dark shadow falls over you, a shadow belonging to an umbrella, an umbrella Alex Morgan is currently holding.  

You take her hand, your fingertips brushing the ring wrapped around her ring finger, a ring you’d proposed to her with not that long ago.  

Life had torn you apart, creating a distance between you so vast that you were not sure if the gap would be bridged, but it was also life that brought you together again.  

It was life that led Alex to confess her feelings for you, and life that led you to where you currently were now, standing in the middle of the graveyard, your hand in Alex’s, the band of her engagement ring cold against your palm.  

You turn towards her, smiling softly.  

“Are you ready?” You ask, her brows arching when she turns towards you.  

“Are you?” She asks, squeezing your hand as you turn back to the stone, nodding. 

“Yeah, I am.”  

Alex turns, her fingers intertwining with yours as you make your way back towards her car.  

You chance one last look over your shoulder, staring at your father’s stone again before turning away, eager to start your life with the woman currently holding your hand, your chest feeling lighter than it ever had before.  

After all these years, you were finally free, and you were free to live your life with the woman you loved, and that woman was your childhood best friend, and fiancé, Alex Morgan.