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#at least until alex finds them making out
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There was a frantic knock on the door. Ellie checked the peep-hole, expecting to see her step brother, Richie. Instead, it was her friend, Sofia. She'd barely unlocked it, and Sofia came bursting in.
"Jeez, what's got into you? I thought it was Richie, tryna make it back before he pees his pants again!" She smirked to herself. "Of course... if it was... I wouldn't have opened it so quick!" She giggled a little.
Both her and Sofia delighted in tormenting her step brother. After Ellie had discovered that Richie had had some trouble in the past with bed wetting, and briefly some daytime accidents too, she'd begun teasing him about it. Not long after that, the problem began resurfacing.
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"Ellie! Drop whatever you're doin'. We've gotta get over to Jessica's!" Sofia blurted out excitedly.
"Wha...? Who...? Who's... Jessica...?" Ellie muttered in confusion. Most of their friends were mutual, and she didn't recall Sofia ever mentioning a Jessica.
"Alex's girlfriend."
"Alex...?" Ellie paused, somehow now even more confused. "Wait, your boyfriend, Alex...? His... girlfriend?"
There was another frantic banging on the door. This time, it was Richie. He had a key, but Ellie's key was already in, so it couldn't be unlocked from outside.
"Ellie...! Please...! I gotta peeee...!" he whined.
Ellie rolled her eyes. While she'd wanted to keep him locked out there until he pissed himself anyway, she was now far more interested in her friends apparent love triangle. "In a minute, don't get your panties in a bunch!" she yelled out.
"Least of his worries!" Sofia giggled, always happy to see Richie lose it in his pants. She called out to him, "Yeah, sorry... just having a little girl talk in here. Be a big boy for me and hold it...!" she teased. She knew the poor boy had a crush on her, which only made it funnier for her.
"Yeah... anyway..." she turned back to Ellie, "so... I got talking to this girl in line for Starbucks, and she gets talking about her boyfriend, and everything she says about him I'm like... oh, mine too! And when she mentions his actual name I'm like... that cannot be a coincidence. Turns out it wasn't!"
"The son of a bitch!" Ellie exclaimed. But while she would've expected outrage, her friend looked positively giddy with excitement. "Uhh... and... are you... OK...?" she asked.
"Oh! Better than OK!" Sofia grinned. "We were both pissed but, hey, neither of us knew about the other so, we figured he was cheating on both of us. And girls gotta stick together, so it's time for a little payback!'"
"Ohhh... Okayyy..." Ellie smirked. "What'd you have in mind?"
Sofia giggled. "Well... we were at Starbucks anyway..."
Ellie burst out laughing. Knowing exactly what that meant. "Ohh... Ordered off the menu, did ya?" she grinned wickedly.
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"That, is exactly what we did..." Sofia confirmed. "So... when he get's over to her house, my new bestie, Jess, is gonna have a fresh, fountainoluccino ready and waiting for him. So he's gonna have an unexpected need to pee about 5 minutes later. And what he's really not gonna be expecting, is to find both of his girlfriends there!"
"Ha ha! You Bitch! I love you!" Ellie cackled. "Almost enough to forgive you calling this girl your bestie!" she pouted, but with a hint of a smirk.
"Aww... sorry, babe!" Sofia cooed. "You know you're my real bestie. Hey, that's why I'm telling you to come over. You're not gonna wanna miss this!"
"Mmm... you're right about that..." Ellie purred. "Can't wait to see the look on his face when you bust him. He's gonna piss himself for real!"
The pair of them burst out laughing.
"I'd bet a lot of boys would wet themselves just knowing they'd been caught!" Sofia giggled. "Buuuut, we wanted to make doubly sure!"
It was just then, Richie tried once again, rapping on the door to get his Step Sister's attention. "Nnnnggghhh... Come ooonnn! Pleeeaasssee... open the door...!"
"Oh yeah... speaking of boys pissing their pants..." she chuckled. She turned to Sofia. "Should I let him in...? I mean... If we let him in now, he could still make it to the bathroom in time..." she teased her friend, "but I know you're in a big rush to go see your new bestie..."
Sofia grinned mischievously. "Hmm... yeeeaahhhh... buuut... I'm sure we have a few minutes to spare..." the pair of them started giggling at the thought of once again forcing Richie to piss himself. And they didn't expect it to take long.
"Come oooonnn... this isn't fair!" he begged. "I made it home, you're just not letting me iiinnnn!"
On the other side of the door, Sofia giddily watched him clutching himself through the peep-hole and giggled. "Hey..." she whispered, giving Ellie a sly wink, "I've got an idea!"
Sofia opened the door and pulled Richie inside. "Oh heeeyy... c'mere, youuu" she giggled, hugging his face into her considerable chest.
Ellie covered her face as her friend teased her helpless brother.
"Thanks for waiting. Such a sweetie, letting me hog your big sis like that. And did you keep your pants dry all day for us, like a big boy...?"
With his face buried in her cleavage, he completely forgot about his desperation for a few, brief moments... but that lapse in concentration proved a fatal mistake. A hot geyser of pee erupted from his suddenly hard cock to remind him.
"Oops!" Sofia giggled, releasing him from her embrace. "Well... almost managed it anyway. Better luck next time!" She beamed. "Oh... we still on for Saturday?" She smirked, lauding that while his parents were away, she'd be over to see Ellie and to "Babysit" Richie, as they put it.
"Oh... he can't wait... just look how excited he is!" Ellie giggled at his misfortune, pointing to his soaking wet pants, and obvious erection. "Aww... poor lil' thing. Just couldn't hold all that pee in!" she taunted him.
"Heyyy... don't you listen to mean ol' big sis!" Sofia mockingly reassured him.
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"Besides... being a big boy down there, doesn't mean you can't have accidents. As my soon-to-be-ex is about to find out!"
"Ooohhh... Sof... you little slut, you never mentioned that..." Ellie grinned wickedly. "Now I really want to see this!"
They both giggled excitedly.
"Then we'd better get goin'," Sofia smirked. "Seeya Saturday, Richie!" she kissed him on the cheek with an audible smack, causing Ellie to shake her head. That was a bit much, even by her standards.
"Yeesh..." she muttered. "Yeah, later, bro..." she waved as they made their way out. "Oh... and... clean that up before Mom gets home. I'm not gonna tell her but... you know... she can figure that out!" she pointed to the puddle.
"Byesies!" Sofia waved, this time blowing a kiss. As the walked down the driveway she teased Ellie. "Bet the puddle won't be the only mess he needs to clean up while we're gone!"
"Ewwww...." Ellie giggled... "Bet he won't even take his pants off first. Ha ha ... well... he'll be thinking about you so... enjoy that image."
Sofia grinned widely. "Hmmm... I dunno... He is kinda cute!" She giggled at Ellie's reaction. "And I am about to be single again... does he have a girlfriend...?"
Ellie raised an eyebrow and just stared at her. A few seconds later Sofia cracked up laughing, and Ellie shook her head.
"Totally had you going..." she cackled. "But hey, at least I wouldn't have to worry about other women!" Her eyes narrowed. "Alex, on the other hand... he'd better be worried about other women!"
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blackbirdblackbird · 2 years
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Maybe it’s time for Kara to try this gauntlet instead of Supergirl.
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farmerstarter · 9 months
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The Bachelors and How They Sleep
hello lovelies! Have some more of my headcanons. These HCs are for a gn! reader. If you have any requests then feel free to send me an ask! Reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated 🌷🤍
Alex:
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🏈 Moves a lot during his sleep. But he doesn't outright punch you by accident. You always seem to end up being under him.
🏈 Mumbles a lot too. One time, you woke up to him counting to himself, just like how he counts his bicep curls.
🏈 Wakes up early, just a few moments before you. He says it's because he needs to exercise the first thing in the morning. But it's actually because he felt you move out of the bed and he doesn't like to be alone.
🏈 Gives you all the pillows to make you comfortable. He says it's important for your muscles to get a good night's rest. He ends up hogging the blankets.
Elliott:
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🪶 Sleeps like a dead man. He doesn't move at all, save for the occasional turning to the side to snuggle against you.
🪶 It takes him a while to finally succumb to slumber. He says it's because he's used to listening to the waves of the beach to fall asleep.
🪶 Silk pajamas, the man has sets of them. He keeps his hair down while sleeping so you sometimes wake up to your whole face being covered by his locks.
🪶 He's a late riser, mostly because he sleeps late too. He tells you that he writes better at night and he doesn't allow himself to rest until he's finished writing one chapter at least.
Harvey:
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🛩️ Sometimes, Harvey forgets to take off his glasses before he goes to bed. Which is why he has so many broken ones that he tries to hide from you by kicking them under the bed.
🛩️ Professional cuddler. He always makes sure you're in his arms or vice versa. He needs to touch you in order to get a good night's rest. Doesn't matter if you two are spooning or if it's just his hand on top of your arm.
🛩️ Snores a lot. Goes "hoooonk mimimimimi hoooonk mimimimi"
🛩️ I like to imagine him wearing those pajamas that's like just a long night gown and those floppy pointy hats. You know the one.
Sam:
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🎸 Alex mumbles in his sleep, Sam straight up sings. Usually it's outbursts of the choruses of his songs, sometimes he'd hum the tune out. You have a video of him playing air drums while sleeping. You sent the video to Abigail and Sebastian, and they never let Sam hear the end of it.
🎸 He wakes up super late most of the time. But on the rare occasion where he doesn't, he cooks breakfast and serves it to you in bed. Complete with a flower in a vase and everything.
🎸 Always kisses you before he falls asleep. Straight up drags you to his side of the bed to peck your lips.
🎸 Would take off his shirt to put it on you. He says he doesn't want you getting cold at night and waves you off when you refuse, worried about his wellbeing. "I don'T gEt sicK eaSiLy, Babe," ends up in the clinic to get meds the next day.
Sebastian:
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👾 It's my headcanons and I say he moves a LOT during his sleep. So much so that you end up on the floor when you wake up. He refuses to believe that he does that.
👾 His sleep schedule depends on you. He refuses to sleep unless you're already in the house. He doesn't like the feeling of sleeping when he doesn't know you're safe. You'll find him waiting for you on the porch.
👾 Prefers to sleep on the side of the bed where the sun doesn't shine.
👾 Immediately feels it when you get out of the bed. And he wakes up immediately, groggy and needing a few minutes to register where he is. Even if you're just going to get a glass of water, Sebastian would wake up and ask where you're going.
Shane:
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🐣 This man says good night to all the chickens in your coop before he goes to bed, I decided.
🐣 He used to get little to no hours of sleep but after moving in with you, he tries to get enough sleep as possible.
🐣 Hugs you in his sleep, all the time.
🐣 He wakes up the same moment you do, sometimes earlier. He gave himself the job to take care of your farm animals so you don't have to work too hard. So he wakes early to get the job done as soon as possible to spend breakfast with you.
🐣 My brother in Yoba, he would wake up in the middle of the night to get a snack. You would sometimes catch him in the middle of drinking cows milk straight out of the bottle in front of the open fridge.
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verstappen-cult · 5 months
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HOW YOU GET THE GIRL | CL16
— 01. THE BEGINNING
NEXT PART — [ SERIES MASTERLIST ]
summary: in which charles has an embarrassing crush on alex's childhood best friend and everyone meddles. content warnings: faceclaim is taylor hill but you can picture her as you’d like! some cursing. note: hiii i love being a little delulu, so i had to do this. it is also my first time doing a smau for the f1 fandom, so be kind with me! if you see some mistakes please know that english is not my first language and i noticed them once everything was finished, lol. ♡
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INSTAGRAM POST
📍MIAMI, FL
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Liked by lilycollins, alex_albon and 365,751 others
yourusername unexpected trip. 🧃
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user1 Alex x Y/N content incoming????
user2 they haven't been seen together in a while user3 i don't think they're friends anymore user4 he left a comment lol
alex_albon brownie's the real star in this pic
yourusername forget about pic credits.
user5 she was in greece a couple of days ago, oh to be rich
user6 and pretty user7 and have famous friends user8 and BE famous
williamsracing Thanks for accepting our invitation, we can't wait to have you with us this weekend!
alex_albon YOUR invitation???
user9 we're sleeping in the fact that she's gonna be in the paddock this weekend for the first time
user10 she's living the dream
TWITTER
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Y/N’s IMESSAGE
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INSTAGRAM POST
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Liked by haileybieber, tomholland2013, landonorris and 972,431 others
yourusername i only came here to drink and watch guys in very fast cars.
📸: @alex_albon who i had to physically drag out of his hotel room after free practice was over.
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user11 caption is so real
user12 she's just like us fr
tchalamet call me next time you're in nyc
user13 ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE user14 timmy is doing what all of us want to do
haileybieber pretty girl
user15 idk abt u guys but i see lando in the likes 👀
user16 don't read too much into it user17 they’re probable friends user18 i wanna be her
alex_albon i'm so good at taking pics i should dedicate my life to photography
yourusername please stick to driving
user19 i want their friendship :(
ALEX’S IMESSAGE
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INSTAGRAM STORIES
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Seen by zendaya, charles_leclerc and 287,386 others
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there is no cause in calling or messaging alex, you know he will not answer. not when qualy is just an hour away and he needs to be prepared.
you don’t know where you are. you see the main entrance a couple of meters away, but you can’t remember where to go from there. but you also can’t stand all day in a place you don’t know, surrounded by fans and people too eager to notice how lost you look. the best you can do is walk around and find your way back; if you have any luck you’ll find alex’s garage before he has to go out. to wish him luck and punch him in the face.
you send him one last message, promising to make his life a living hell, and put your phone away.
you’re trying to follow the path you remember in your head, when someone comes barreling into you.
“hey!” the person says a little out of breath. “i was just looking for you.”
you take off your sunglasses to get a better look and it dawns on you that you definitely know this person. or at least you’ve seen him countless of times in your tv, sometimes in alex’s instagram stories too.
“charles!” you really don’t know him, this is definitely the first time you are speaking to him, but you’ve never been so happy to see someone you barely know before. “oh my god, you won’t believe what alex did to me.”
“i know,” he says immediately and you furrow your eyebrows. he shows you his phone, as if that will tell you what you need to know, but when you don’t speak, he smiles hesitantly. you don’t know if the blush on his cheeks is because he was running to get to you or if it’s for a whole different reason. “i saw your story and thought maybe i could help you?”
you process his words for a few seconds, until you realize who really is in front of you. “oh my god, charles!” you exclaim a little louder, drawing attention, and you witness how people begin to notice charles’ presence because of that. he looks at you with confusion on his face, race suit hanging low around his waist. “you’re not supposed to be here, you should be in your car.”
charles’ blush deepens. “yeah,” he says, scratching his neck and avoiding your gaze. “but i couldn’t leave a pretty girl here all alone.”
now it’s your turn to blush, cheeks heating up so much that you’re sure everyone around you can see it.
“let’s go, please. i don’t want to be the reason why you’re gonna be scolded for.”
you walk beside him, trying to give him space as he takes selfies with a few fans that have the courage to approach him. however, charles apologizes with a smile when he sees you a couple of meters away and, as you walk side by side, you can’t help but notice heads turning in your direction and whispers of your name and his.
you fall into an easy conversation that ends up sooner than you’d have liked. but you don’t part ways until his number is on your phone and the promise to text him on your lips.
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TWITTER
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Y/N’s IMESSAGE
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INSTAGRAM POST
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Liked by charles_leclerc, romeestrijd and 676,823 others
yourusername what an incredible weekend! i got to attend my first GP thanks to @/williamsracing (and alex too, he gets mad if i don’t say he had to do with it) and meet new and amazing people. let’s hope this is not the last. 🏎️🤞🏼
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user20 SHE LOOKED SO BEAUTIFUL
user21 mother is mothering
williamsracing Oh no, thank YOU for accepting our invitation and enjoying with us, even if you got lost for a minute. 💙
yourusername it was all alex’s fault alex_albon NO DON'T LISTEN TO HER, THEY ARE FRAMING ME !!!!
user22 everybody calm down… CHARLES IS IN HER LIKES
user23 so it’s true what everyone’s been saying? they were together on saturday??? user24 idk but there are pics of them walking together user25 not my boyfriend trying to steal my girlfriend
romeestrijd you need to take me w you next time. ❤️‍🔥
yourusername we'll have so much fun! user26 does this mean you're going to the next race?
user27 why do people always assume a driver's dating someone when they like a pic??? u’re acting crazy
user28 like friendships between a man and a woman exists, HELLO !?!?
charles_leclerc thanks for stopping by.
user29 CHARLES WHAT user30 Stopping by where? user31 what do you mean?? i mean what do you- what do you mean??
user32 not Y/N replying to all her friends comments and not charles' 🤣🤣
user33 she's too much for him user34 HE'S too much for her x
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note: ups, hello to you again… if you make it here, thank u sm! let me give you a lil kiss on the forehead. btw i’m planning on making this a series, so if you liked it please let me know. and if you want to request something, feel free! comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated. 🫶🏼
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Mutual | Lucien Flores x f!Reader
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summary: you and lucien have both been invited to this dinner with explicit instructions: play nice. but it's kind of hard when you can't stand each other. even harder when the meaning begins to blur with his hands on you.
pairing: lucien flores x f!reader
ratings/warnings: 18+, MDNI. smoking, drinking. idk, hate fucking essentially. misuse of a champagne bottle, edging?, sexual tension, f!masturbation, unprotected p in v (you know what to do, and it's not this), oral (f!receiving). reader wears a dress and is implied to be shorter than lucien, but is otherwise undescribed.
wc: 4.8k
an: i succumbed.
The only thing you and Lucien Flores have in common is the need for a cigarette after dinner. 
Nothing else.
You stand on opposite sides of the patio outside the open glass doors which lead back into Anna and Alex’s house, and you know that Anna, at the very least, will be watching you. Making sure you play nice.
Something you’d vowed to do when she’d called to invite you to this dinner party. Lucien will be there, she’d said, it’d be great for me, for us, if you two just tried to get along. 
So far, you’ve succeeded. You’d listened politely to his stories at the table, hadn't even rolled your eyes when he laughed and joked and flirted with your fellow guests. You’d drunk your wine and stayed quiet through it all, offering your own contributions to the equal delight of the friends who'd gathered. You’d been surprised when Lucien had smiled along with them, even going so far as to chuckle at your story about the dog next door.
And now, outside, the rule still stands. You eye each other as you smoke, finding yourself amazed again by the way he doesn’t speak. Not a snide thing to say, no quip to make, just him watching you. Eyes flitting from your legs, to your hips, to your chest, to your face. And you’d tell him to quit it if you weren’t doing the same thing. If you weren’t enjoying the way his silk shirt hangs off his broad shoulders, the way his curls flop over his forehead, the way his chains catch the light, the way his stupid, pretty eyes glitter across from you. You hate yourself for it, want to crack some nasty sentiment across the stone, but you don’t. 
You’re on your best behaviour, after all.
Something which Lucien has clearly forgotten as he pushes himself off from the wall he’s leaned against, stepping closer, closer to you by the bush with the red flowers. You brace yourself for whatever it is he’s about to say, for whatever smoke he’s about to blow in your face, gearing up for the taunt you’ll throw back. 
He stops before you, barely an arms length away. You tense, waiting.
He holds out the bottle of champagne he’d swiped from the table on his way out. You blink at him.
‘What are you doing?’
‘I’m playing nice.’
You stare at him, sceptical. This is not Lucien. This is not something you’re used to.
But maybe he’s trying, too. 
You take the bottle from him, and he lets it go easily. You watch him as you bring it to your lips, tipping it up until the bright fizz of the bubbles meets your tongue. He watches your mouth, pink slip of his tongue flicking out over his bottom lip as he drops the butt of his finished cigarette to the floor, not looking where it lands. You swallow, take another gulp for good measure, and hand it back to him. His fingers graze yours as you do. 
You freeze at the jolt of electricity his touch brings, hand remaining outstretched as he brings the bottle back to his side. You watch, aloof, as he plucks your cigarette from your fingers and flicks it into the darkness before slotting your hands together, mind swirling as he pulls you closer.
‘Come on. Want to show you something.’ 
Maybe it’s the wine, but you can’t find the words to protest as he tugs you away to a deeper part of the garden. 
Lucien turns you to face him at the furthest wall he can find, and you finally find your words as your back hits the concrete.
‘What did you want to show me?’
You glance around behind him at the flowers that burst from the ground, bright even in the darkening half light. The water feature Alex had installed last year trickles musically somewhere to your left, though you can't see it.
His answering grin is dirty, something fluttering in your tummy as you grind your teeth, nostrils flaring. You do not have the patience for this man, or the butterflies churning in your stomach.
‘Lucien.’
His hands find your waist and the curve of your ass in a flurry of movement, his grip strong, the bottle cold through the material of your dress. The air leaves your lungs. He hums as he draws himself close to your lips.
‘How beautiful you look tonight.’
You snort at him, disbelieving. He can’t be fucking serious.
‘Lucien, what the fuck -’
He cuts you off quickly, dipping to fit his mouth to yours in a searing kiss, hand moving from your ass to your jaw as he licks into your mouth. Your blood roars in your ears as your own hands scrabble to find purchase on his chest, slipping against the silk. You mean to push him away, but somehow you pull him closer, your body doing the opposite of what it’s told as you open your mouth further to him, groaning softly. He tastes like champagne and cigarettes, and you grip his neck to bring him further in, your other hand smoothing over his bunched shoulder, his strong bicep, down to his waist, fisting his shirt. He chuckles against your lips, and sharp anger surges in your gut. Shit. This is Lucien.
You use the hand at his middle to push him roughly away from you.
‘Get the fuck off me.’
He smirks, one hand still on your hip as he takes a swig from the bottle of champagne. You watch him, breathing heavily, stare as his lips close around the mouth of the bottle, and you're betrayed by what you’ve only pictured in your most secret moments. Your eyelids flutter, fingers twitch for him, cunt clenches around something that isn't there. He comes towards you again, and this time you close the gap, leaning forward to crash your mouth against his. You lick at the seam of his lips but he keeps them obstinately shut, and with irritation flashing through you, you drag your nails hard down his forearm in retaliation. He grips the nape of your neck, pulling your head back, and taking advantage of your open lips, spills the champagne off his tongue and onto yours. It's warm, still sparkling. Tastes like him. You swallow it down greedily, reminding yourself that you should be disgusted, certainly shouldn’t be pulling him in to kiss him again, shouldn’t moan so loud when he grinds his hips against yours as he rumbles how you drive him fucking insane against your neck. Shouldn’t be so wet, pinned up against this wall by a man you have long held such disdain for, shouldn’t grind back against him, shouldn’t be panting into his mouth like some kind of dog, shouldn't be forgetting where you are, who you’re with -
This time, you’re more forceful. Lucien stumbles back with hooded eyes and shining, swollen lips, his own breathing coming fast and deep. You stare back at him, still stunned, and without meaning to, your eyes drop down to his crotch, finding the fabric there tight with his arousal. He’s big, must be with the way his zipper is straining. Your mouth runs dry, your stomach swoops. Fuck.
You watch with as much disgust as you can manage as he palms himself roughly to relieve some of the ache, your own hands itching to do the same.
‘So pretty, baby,’ he teases, stepping forwards, head falling towards yours again. Why won’t he stay away? ‘So pretty, wanting me like this -’
‘Stop,’ you hiss. It’s unconvincing even to your ears, and he smirks like he knows. He knows. ‘I don’t - I don’t want you like this -’
He presses his forehead to yours, not touching you this time, instead letting his nose trace your cheekbone, your jaw, down to your neck.
‘You don’t want me like this?’ He purrs. You manage to shake your head. You can feel his smile as he laves a hungry, open-mouthed kiss to your pulse point, and you whimper, hot all over, so wet, so needy for him. He chuckles again. ‘No,’ he confirms. ‘Then maybe… like this.’
He sinks to his knees in front of you, curls mussed, lips parted, eyes blown. He stares up at you, reverent, taunting, as he skates his broad palms over the tops of your thighs, stroking the skin, murmuring how soft you are. Oh, and you are so fucking angry. So fucking angry as he grips and soothes your flesh, as he squeezes and kneads your ass, as you hold onto his strong shoulders and breathe his name. Even more pissed when he doesn’t have some kind of asshole comment to make, furious as he leans into you and presses kisses to where his hands have been, mouthing at your skin, leaving it wet with his spit, with champagne, so fucking mad as he sips from the bottle again and spills the liquid from his mouth onto your thighs, as he kneels back to watch it trickle over your knees, down your shins, to your feet, to drip onto the floor. You are on fire.
‘See? Beautiful.’ He murmurs. And oh, what you’d do. What you’d do to him. You’d pull at his hair and scratch at his chest and bite into his neck and you’d make him suffer, make him ache, make him feel the same heat you’re feeling. You just can’t seem to move.
Can’t seem to move as he brings his mouth closer to your cunt, splitting the folds of your wrap dress further, pushing his hands up to your hips, holding you still as he takes in your lace panties, the only thing covering you from him. He looks up to you again, burning with desire. Your cunt pulses painfully, and you hiss his name.
He smiles, cruelly.
‘Relax, sweetheart,’ he murmurs, ‘We’re playing nice, remember?’
Your retort dies in your throat as he presses his face to your clothed cunt and breathes in deeply. He moans loudly, and you whimper in response, hands flying to his hair at the feeling of his hot breath on you, tugging as he mouths at your pussy through the material. You feel his tongue, warm and strong, drag over the lace covering your clit and you groan, going slack against the wall. He nudges the swollen nub with his nose, his free hand coming between your legs to touch you.
‘So wet,’ he breathes, ‘That what I’m doing to you?’
You shake your head no even though he can’t see you, still playing with your pussy through your underwear. A plea bubbles up your throat, and you swallow it down. You will not beg Lucien Flores to touch you. You don’t even know how you got here in the first place.
But that’s forgotten as he moves again, kissing your clit through the fabric as he brings his other hand, still holding the bottle, between your legs. You hiss as he presses the lip of it to your hole, all protests forgotten as he grinds it against you, the pressure easing a small amount of the ache you feel.
You forget that it’s wrong as he uses it to push your panties to the side. Forget as he runs the cold glass through your wetness, almost do beg him to touch you, to lick you, to do something before he settles it against your slit, right where you think you might need it most.
‘Still don’t want me?’ he breathes against your skin.
A shallow breath escapes you.
‘Fuck you.’ You whisper, no conviction behind your words. He rests his forehead against your hip, and begins to press, begins to relieve some of that ache, that want -
‘Luce?’ Anna calls out from the direction of the house. You freeze, fist tightening around his curls, but Lucien is unphased, working the mouth of the bottle past the tight opening of your pussy. You gasp brokenly at the cool feel of it, fingers constricting even further. Lucien moans beneath you, moving to nose at the crease between your thigh and your cunt, pushing the neck of the bottle further in. You moan loudly, knees giving a little, and he clutches your hip tighter to keep you from falling.
‘Luce?’ Anna calls again, a little closer this time. You groan his name in response, torn between wanting more and wanting this to end before disaster.
The next Lucien? comes even closer, and you use your grip on his hair to pull his face away from you, tipping his head back so that he meets your eye.
‘Stop.’ You bite out. He grins and gives one more pump of the neck of the bottle. You whimper, head falling back to the concrete behind you as he removes it completely, rising to his feet with a groan. You watch, bleary eyed, leaking, chest heaving, as he dusts off his pants and adjusts himself, his eyes never leaving yours. He steps back and away, eyes raking over your body as he raises the bottle to his mouth, licking around the neck before taking a deep drink and disappearing back up the path.
He’s sick. You hate him.
You return to the house on shaky legs through the backdoor, hoping to make it to the bathroom, only to be intercepted by Alex. He’s scraping leftover food into the bin, and smiles as you enter before double taking at your appearance. You must look wrecked.
‘Are you alright?’ He asks, brow creasing with concern.
You hum, clearing your throat before answering.
‘Yeah, I’m fine.’
Alex raises an eyebrow at you.
‘Did he say something to you?’ he asks.
‘Did he - what?’
‘Lucien. Did he upset you?’
You blink at him. Right. Play nice.
‘I - no. He didn’t. He was actually quite pleasant.’
Alex stares at you.
‘Pleasant?’
‘Yeah.’
You hold his gaze for a little longer, feel a guilty little heat crawl its way through your belly. 
You’re warm, so unbearably warm.
‘Is it alright if I go and lay down upstairs for a bit?’ You ask. ‘I feel kind of funny.’
Alex frowns, placing the plate he was holding on the counter.
‘Sure,’ he says, ‘Do you need anything?’
You smile weakly, shaking your head.
‘No,’ you reassure him, ‘That’s okay, thank you. I just need a moment.’
The guest room on the top floor is cool, and the curtains are open. Warm, orange light floods in from the street outside, and you settle yourself on the middle of the bed, ready to get this over with. There’s no way you can go back downstairs with this need, this coil wound so tight in your belly. You swoop your palms over your body, nipples tightening beneath your dress, feeling the swirl, the drip of yourself between your legs. You grind the heel of your palm against your mound and moan softly, rucking your dress up to your hips so you can slip your fingers beneath the lace.
Fuck, you are so wet. So goddamn turned on by that stupid man that you may as well throw your underwear away. You sweep a finger over your clit, hips twitching at the contact, eyes falling shut as you dip the digit to your entrance to collect your arousal, working the nub in tight circles. 
Your legs fall slack as you build yourself up, moans falling from your mouth in quick succession as you imagine what it would have been like to have him take you there, against the wall. What it would have been like to be fucked with the bottle, to have his tongue really on you, mimicking your movements now, to fall apart against his mouth, see him pull away with your slick covering his face. You rock your hips against your hand, quickening your movements, fingers dipping in and out of your slit between working your clit as the coil tightens and tightens, as the hot, heavy feeling grows and grows, as sweat beads at your temples and the valley between your breasts, as you try not to moan his name -
Like you’ve summoned him, Lucien clears his throat in the doorway. 
You snap your legs shut, heart hammering in your chest, heat blooming through your cheeks.
‘You fucking - asshole -’ you seethe, and he laughs, eyes roving over your sweaty body. ‘Get out.’
‘Wanted to check you were alright.’
You gape at him.
‘Fucking bullshit, Lucien,’ you grit, snatching your hand out of your soaked cunt. You bundle it in the silk of your dress as you try to cover yourself, but his eyes follow, tracing the glint of your slick in the dim light. 
‘Seems like you’re okay, though,’ he continues, slouching against the doorframe. ‘Just look like you could do with some help.’
You choke on a laugh, frozen, glaring at him from the bed. He bites his lip.
‘You’re fucking insane.’
‘Insane enough to fuck you.’
You inhale sharply, trying to ignore the flash of arousal that shoots through you, clenching your jaw.
‘You are not going to fuck me.’
Lucien steps away from the doorframe, moving into the room, letting the door fall shut behind him. Without looking, he reaches out with one hand and twists the lock with a click. 
He comes towards you slowly, eyes hungry. Your heart is in your mouth as you watch him, adrenaline kicking in so hard even you’re not sure what you want. Aren’t sure whether you can admit what you want. 
He reaches the end of the bed before dropping a knee onto the mattress, reaching out to grab an ankle, pulling your leg flat. You burn at the feel of him holding you, preventing you from moving, from hiding.
‘Then stop me.’
You don’t. You can’t as he crawls his way up your body, as he touches every inch of skin he can so gently, so delicately. Fresh slick pools out of you at the feeling, at the sight - 
His stupid puppy dog eyes and floppy curls and broad shoulders beneath his silk shirt, silk shirt that looks like sin as it drapes over him, moves with him like water, and his chains, his chains, how they’d look swinging over you as he buries himself inside you, raw and hungry and -
You can’t stop the moan that slips from your lips as his hand cups your cunt, as his mouth finds your neck. Body quickly liquid, molten beneath his touch, legs falling open.
‘Please -’ it slips from your mouth before you can stop it, but it feels good, finally, to have him give you what you need.
‘Good girl,’ he says, ‘Playing so nice.’
He slips his hand beneath the lace of your panties, trailing two fingers through your arousal, mirroring your moan as he does. He circles your clit, dragging you back to where you were, drinking down your noises with his mouth close enough to swallow your breath, but not close enough to kiss. You stare up at him, eyes wide, mouth open, a line forming between your brows. You gasp, so pretty, and he hums, slowing his movements to an agonising pace before slipping them from your heat entirely. You whine at the loss, huffing against the mattress, pouting at him pathetically as he smiles down at you.
‘Let’s get these off.’
He kneels back to pull your underwear away from you, and you wriggle at the cool air that comes into contact with your cunt. You watch, breathless, as he bundles them up and slips them into his back pocket, irritated, but not irritated enough to demand them back. They were expensive.
He drinks in the sight of your bare pussy with ravenous eyes, resting his cheek against the flesh of your thigh. The scruff of his beard tickles and scratches, the feel of it so Lucien, but you can't find it within yourself to care. He brings a single finger up to trace through your folds, and you whine desperately, embarrassingly at the sensation.
‘Pretty enough to make a grown man cry, baby,’ he hums, nuzzling your thigh as he blinks up at you with burning eyes. ‘You ever made a man cry before?’
‘Yeah,’ you breathe, ‘Wanna see if I can make you cry, too?’
He grins, a dirty little thing, before closing his teeth over the soft skin at your hip. You moan again, and he leans in closer, licking a long, hot, wet stripe from your hole to your clit. You shudder, a broken sound escaping your mouth. God, what is wrong with you?
‘So sweet,’ he murmurs, ‘You always this wet when someone teases you?’
You arch your back against him, head turning in the sheets.
‘No,’ you groan, ‘Get this wet when I’m about to make myself come.’
He huffs a laugh against you before driving his tongue against your clit, sucking the bundle of nerves into his mouth. He is hot and wet against you, so strong and soft like velvet as he tastes you, holds your thighs apart with his strong hands, fingers pressing in so hard you’re sure they’ll bruise. You writhe beneath him, hands flying to his hair, grinding up into his face. He licks and licks, devouring you, moving his head from side to side, gripping your hips to keep you moving against him as he quickly builds you again back to your high, sliding two fingers inside easily, curling them up into the spot deep inside you. 
You can’t tear your eyes away from him, the strong curves of his body, the sweat on his forehead, the way his eyelids flutter at your noises, those deep brown eyes watching you with something carnal, something possessive in them.
You whine and moan above him, keening as he reaches his other hand up to swipe a thumb over your nipple, pinching it as you plead for more, as you tighten around his fingers, as you flood his mouth, as the toil tightens again, as you teeter on the edge -
Lucien pulls his mouth from you with a wet sound, withdrawing his fingers at the same time. 
You cry out.
‘No,’ you whimper, ‘No, Lucien, please -’
‘Atta girl,’ he says, ‘I knew you could ask nicely. Knew you’d beg.’
Your back flies off the mattress as you reach to claw at him, ready to rip him to shreds, but he’s too quick, kneeling back again to undo his belt, unzip his fly, pull himself out, and oh -
Oh. Fuck. He’s big. The heavy weight of him held in his fist as he pumps himself slowly over you turns your clawing into gentler hands, and he moves so you can wrap yourself around his cock. He feels like silk, so close to his shirt, rock-hard and twitching as you move your hand languidly up and down his length, squeezing, swiping your thumb over his tip as it drips precum. It's hard not to admire him like this, hard to remember why you hate him so much. The ache between your legs borders on unbearable.
He groans loudly, rocking his hips before wrapping his hand around yours, untangling your fingers to hold himself again, guiding his cock towards your entrance. He runs his length back and forth between your folds, covering himself in your slick, feeling your clit twitch beneath him until you beg again - ‘Please, Lucien, please - fuck me -’ before he’s sliding home in one long stroke.
The air is knocked from you at the feeling, at how full you are. He hinges to cage you with his arms, and you clutch at his shirt as he begins to move, slow, so slow. He licks his lips as he watches your face, your mouth in a little ‘o’, neck straining against the pillow, and you move a hand to the back of his neck, wanting to kiss him, wanting to taste him, taste him taste of you. You want to take his plush bottom lip between your teeth and hold it there, hold it there until you taste blood. Bu he picks up the pace, thrusting harder and faster, and you lose your grip, back arching as the delicious burn returns yet again.
‘Fuck -’ you gasp, ‘Holy fuck, Lucien, oh my god -’
‘I know, baby,’ he whispers, fucked out and broken as you already. ‘I know.’
He groans from somewhere deep in his throat, head thrown back to expose his neck, and you want to kiss him again, swallow him down, consume him whole.
You close your teeth over the chain that’s swinging in your face so he can't pull away, and he moans, forehead knocking against yours. You bite down harder, wanting it to break, wanting to shatter it, shatter him. As if he can feel it, he grinds deeper, harder inside of you. You feel yourself clench, feel it begin to spiral. You spit the jewellery out to whimper, scratch down the length of his back over his shirt. He feels so good. Feels so fucking good, and it’s infuriating.
‘I hate you,’ you whine breathlessly. He moans into your neck, breath hot and damp against your skin.
‘Yeah,’ he gasps, ‘Feeling’s mutual, baby.’
He marks the sentiment with a particularly dirty kiss to your throat, and with that, you see stars. You clench and break and stutter around him, splintering and bursting around his cock, crying out so loudly that he secures his large palm over your mouth.
‘Yeah, good girl,’ he pants, ‘Good fucking girl.’
You moan again, and he can feel your body twitch with the aftershocks, contracting and leaking around him. He takes both your legs in his hands and places them on his shoulders, folding you into yourself, fucking into you deeper, harder than before, hitting another angle even more intense than the last. You cry desperately into the pillow, wincing as you tighten again, impossibly fast, too intense, too far away to warn him. But he knows. He can feel it. Tries to hold himself back a little longer to fuck you through it, reaching down to thumb your clit, swiping through the mess you’ve made, he’s made, entranced by the sounds you’re making, the slick sound of him moving in and out of your cunt, the lightheaded feeling he’s got, the desperation, the urge, the need -
He breathes in the scent of your skin as his thrusts get sloppier, inhaling deeply through his nose. He wishes he could kiss you again. Wants to feel the press of your mouth against his, the breaths you take, your tongue against his.
But if he does, it’ll be over. The game will be up, because he won’t be able to hold back the real want he feels, where all this anger stems from. He’s so nasty, so mean because he wants you so bad. So bad, from the moment you met. From the moment you looked him up and down and listened to his arrogant introduction with a little sneer. He wants that attitude - wants to fuck it right out of you.
Your ankle smells sweet against his cheek, and he turns his head to kiss and bite the bone there, feeling you tense and pulse around him at the scrape of his teeth. You twist in the sheets, breathing ragged, eyes scrunched shut, fists clenching the cotton as you moan his name, as you try and bite back the gasps and cries of your second orgasm.
‘Again,’ he grits out, ‘Again.’
‘Lucien -' you cry, reaching for him, ‘Lucien, fuck -'
He comes at the first flutter as you clamp down around him. Buries himself right down to the hilt as he spills inside you, coming with a pained moan and a murmur of your name, eyes fluttering shut as he rocks in and out of your pulsing cunt, fucking his spend deep. He lets your legs fall from his shoulders as he catches his breath, steadying himself with a palm on the mattress as he watches you come down, staring at the rise and fall of your chest beneath your dress, nipples still straining against the fabric. He wants to take them in his mouth, wants to work you up to take you again, but he slips out instead, brushes his hair back from his forehead, watches his cum begin to dribble out of your puffy cunt. You catch him and reach down to run your fingers through the mess of you both, and Lucien looses a strangled groan as you feed it to yourself, tongue working over your digits. You remove them with a pop, sliding your legs closed and settling yourself on your elbows.
He kneels back on the bed, tucking himself back into his pants, trying to focus on something that’s not you for just a moment as you rearrange your dress and swing your legs off the bed. He feels like he should say something, something to cut across what you've just done. Something appropriately callous, but he can't bring himself to. Can't find it within him.
He hasn’t even finished buttoning his pants before you swan out of the room, dress as perfect as it was before, clinging to your curves, moving with your steps. You don’t look back at him as you leave, don’t utter a word.
That familiar flare of anger rises in his chest again. A muscle ticks in his cheek, and he sits down heavily on the bed, clasping his hands together over his knees. He takes a deep breath, exhales through his nose. He soothes himself with the thought of your cunt leaking his cum all over your seat downstairs, thinks about how it’ll ruin your pretty little dress. Tries not to think about how he won’t be tearing you out of it later, won’t be able to taste himself mixing with you like he wants to.
Tries not to think about the perfume you had applied to your ankles.
Tries not to think about how maybe, just maybe, you’ve thought about this, too.
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13uswntimagines · 3 months
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13 Eras of Us Era 2: It’s The First Kiss, It’s Flawless, Really Something, It’s Fearless (Taylor Swift X Morgan!Reader)
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13 Eras of us Era 1
This is the Era where R and Taylor finally get together. There is a little spice (very clearly marked). R and Alex start to work on their issues, and we learn a little bit more about R's past... situationships. The team learns about "burrito girl" and Kelley saves the day and keeps things on track.
August 2016
And isn’t it just so pretty to think 
All along there was some invisible string
While August was turning out slightly better than July, it was still weird. 
It was weird being at camp when you weren’t on the roster. Weird being around the people you called friends when most of them weren’t talking to you. 
But what made matters worse was that you had been called in hours before camp started. You had blindly thrown random clothing into a suitcase, rushing to not miss the flight Christen, Alyssa, and JJ were on, all while calling your teammates to find one willing to watch your dogs on such late notice. 
Part of you even considered calling Tony, the bodyguard who had strangely stayed in town despite Taylor’s departure, hoping that maybe he could at least check on them until you could guilt one of your teammates into taking them. 
The older couple that lived next to you would let him in, you knew. 
You had given Mr. And Mrs. Rossi keys two days after you had moved in when they brought over a pan of ravioli and introduced themselves. 
You were just lucky that Niki Stanton had answered you just before you boarded the plane with a yes, so you hadn’t had to ask. 
You didn’t want to bug Taylor more than you had to. You didn’t want to assume that Tony would want to help you. 
You sighed, tugging the special 3rd knot on your cleats to make sure it was tight. 
It wasn’t like you would actually be training with the team. You would be there to partner for drills. To make sure that everyone else was prepared to face Ireland. 
The only problem was that it seemed like no one wanted you to partner with them.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true. 
Rose and Emily had sent you regretful smiles as Jill directed you to pair with one of the forwards for a passing drill. Alex had already been claimed by Lindsey and Tobin and Christen had chosen each other. 
It left you on the bench, trying to pretend like it didn’t hurt that the rest of the team had lost so much faith in your abilities that they wouldn’t even look in your direction. 
You blew out another breach, checking your left cleat again. 
“Can I partner with you?” Mal asked sheepishly, blocking the beating sun from your face. 
You squinted up at her, your lips twitched into a ghost of a smile. “Don’t know if you wanna risk my bad luck rubbing off on you,”
“You don’t have bad luck,” She said, her lips also lifting. “But I will take some of your magic if you’re offering,” 
“You never could get enough,” You wiggled your eyebrows. 
“You’re too much,” Mal chuckled, shaking her head. 
There was a glint in her eyes, one that reminded you of long summers at U15 camp flirting over ice cream cones, and talking about what the future held. It reminded you of an easier time before you had been crushed by expectations. Before there were any expectations. 
You weren’t sure if the feelings you had harbored were real, or just a figment created by excitement and feeling free for the first time. What you did know was that while your feelings had long since mellowed into platonic, the comfort her friendship brought you was still as strong as it ever had been. 
If you couldn’t be on the pitch, you would make damn sure she had the debut of her lifetime. 
She deserved that, and hopefully, you would prove yourself to the coaching staff and be allowed to rejoin the team. 
She grabbed your arm, and dragged you to your feet.“Come on, I don’t want to be late for my first practice,” 
You made a low noise of agreement, trudging after her. 
“Don’t look so glum,” Tobin said, nudging your arm as you stepped into line beside her, across from Mal. “It doesn’t suit your sunny personality,” 
You pulled a face at her, catching the ball with your right cleat as Mal sent it your way, and you tapped it to your left foot and sent it back. “I think a majority of my energy has been sapped by all of my friends hating me,” 
“They don’t,” Christen said simply, flicking her own ball back towards Tobin. 
“We could never hate you,” Alex chimed in, catching a pass from Lindsey. 
“Cause I’m really feeling the love,” You grumbled back, staring at the ball instead of meeting your sister's eyes. 
You could feel their gazes glued to you, and you could imagine the looks on their faces. 
You didn’t need to see it. 
“Alright ladies,” Jill clapped her hands, drawing the group's attention. “Let’s start with passing drills. Midfielders will pass to their forwards, and forwards will attempt to score while the defenders will try to stop you,” 
She gestured towards the line of waiting defenders on one side of the goalpost, and the 3 keepers waiting by the other. “If you score, you get to keep the point. If you don’t, the defense keeps it. The side with the most points at the end will get to skip 2 laps on the conditioning run at the end of practice,” 
Your eyebrows furrowed. 
Jill didn’t usually run drills like this. This was something reminiscent of one of Roary’s drills. 
She couldn’t have been talking to him, but if she was... If she listened to his opinion, then maybe what he said was true. 
Maybe he really did have the power to make or break you. 
It sent an unpleasant shiver down your spine. 
You didn’t want to think about the… thank you you might owe him. Or how his suggestion of extra sessions might actually help. 
“Likewise, the keepers will also try to stop you so select the best shot, not just the easiest,” Jill continued, and you blinked back to yourself. “Questions?”
You shook your head along with the group. 
It didn’t matter who had come up with it. All that mattered was that you showed Jill that you belonged on the roster. That you made her regret not including you. 
“Ready to put on a show?” Mal bumped you as Lindsey and Alex started the drill. 
Alex easily outpaced Becky to get into position, but Lindsey had a harder time faking out Kelley, taking an extra second to make the defender step before she sent a perfect through ball into Alex’s path. 
“Always,” You breathed out as the ball left Alex’s foot, sailing through the air before pinging off of the crossbar. She ran a frustrated hand through her hair, and you dragged your eyes away to look at Mal. “Don't miss,” 
A devilish grin took over Mal’s features. “Don’t worry Ducky, I can’t miss with your magic,” 
She winked at you, and you rolled your eyes. 
You hated that nickname. Not as much as others you had been given. Not enough to ask Mal to get rid of it, not when she liked it so much. 
You stepped up to the ball and focused on Emily across from you as Mal did the same with Abby. 
Nicknames could wait until after you had shown them all why you belonged. 
OoOoOoO
You let out a long breath, standing over the ball as you stared at goal. 
You could hear your teammates behind you, chatting as they packed up their gear, but you did your best to tune them out. 
It didn’t matter to you that practice had ended nearly 15 minutes ago. All that you cared about was scoring from the spot. All you cared about was making sure you never missed another penalty again.
You took three steps back, your eyes flickering to the ball and then back towards goal. The back netting fluttered gently in the wind, like waving hands in the stands. 
You blew out one more breath and leaned into your run, counting down in your head. 
Your eyes never left the net as you took your three-step run up and blasted the ball toward the top right corner. 
It hit the net with a satisfying woosh, sending ripples through the material and rattling the woodwork. 
“Not bad,” 
You blinked at the approaching voice, turning to face the new number-one keeper of the USWNT. 
“Oh, thanks,” You nodded, blushing slightly and running a hand through your hair. You headed towards the goal to collect your ball and shoot again. 
You didn’t really interact with Alyssa, even in Chicago. Her quiet confidence always intimidated you. 
“Mind if I stand in goal for you?” She asked, trailing after you. “I wanna get some reps in,”
You paused, blinking at her. “You don’t have to do that for me,” 
She sent you a small smile. “I know. I want to,” 
You swallowed, flicking the ball up to your hands and tossing it towards her. “If you really want to,” 
“I do,” Alyssa caught it easily, looking at you for a long second. “When you send balls to the top right corner, you tilt your hips to the left in your run-up. It gives you away,” 
Your eyebrows furrowed. You didn’t know you were doing that. 
“Try to stay square,” She continued. “It’ll make it harder to read you,” 
You hummed, biting the inside of your lip as you stepped back towards the spot. 
She rolled the ball towards you, and you carefully positioned it where you wanted it, and took three big steps back. 
You twisted your hips, trying to remember to keep them square as you did your run-up. 
Your eyes fell to the ball, and you let out a long breath, doing the countdown on your head as you dragged your gaze to meet Alyssa’s in goal. 
You leaned onto your toes, doing your run-up and forcing your hips to remain parallel. 
Now that you were in step, you could feel what Alyssa was talking back in the way you wanted to pull to your left for the windup. 
Your foot contacted the ball, and you watched as it flew much more slowly towards Alyssa’s outstretched fingertips. It brushed past her, landing in the net with a much less satisfying swish. 
“I just feel like I don’t have as much power,” You said, watching as Alyssa got back to her feet and fished the ball out of the back of the net. 
“I save goals, I don’t make them,” Alyssa shrugged, rolling the ball back in your direction. “You could ask maybe Pino or your sister,”
Your nose scrunched at the options. 
You would rather gargle thumbtacks than do either considering Pino was still pretending that you didn’t exist and Alex was… too much. 
She was trying too hard, pushing too much and it made you suspicious. Why did she care now when she hadn’t before? When she had been ignoring you since the ball left your foot in Rio? 
When the two of you had been at odds since she left for Berkeley?
“It was just a suggestion,” Alyssa said quickly as you tapped the ball back towards the spot. 
“I know,” You mumbled, repositioning the ball with your hands. “I’ll probably ask Mal later. She’s always been better at PKs anyway,” 
Alyssa hummed in agreement. She didn’t know you well enough to argue, and you seemed pretty close with the new striker. You had perked up considerably after partnering with her during practice, and the two of you had been unstoppable in the new set of drills Jill wanted to try(even if Jill made you sit the scrimmage out). 
She hoped that helping you with your PKs would only add to the good mood you had been riding. She hoped it would help to alleviate the dark cloud that had been following you since the Olympics. 
You were young and under more pressure than anyone your age should ever be placed under. As the captain of your club team, she felt it was her duty to actually do something about it. If that meant standing for a million of your PKs until you felt comfortable, then that’s exactly what she would do. 
You lined up behind the ball, squinting at it. She noticed how you tilted your hips back and forth trying to figure out the mechanics of your kick. 
It amazed her how easily you could adjust, and how smooth you made it look. 
If you could get rid of your little tells, you would be deadly in front of the net. Just as deadly as you were during normal play. 
She watched as you leaned forward on your toes, your feet shuffling as you prepared to kick. 
“Hey you two, we’re going to leave soon,” Alyssa blinked up at Kelley’s voice, just as the ball left your foot. 
She missed your kick, and the ball sailed easily into the net to her left. “We were just finishing up,”
Your shoulders rolled, and it looked like you wanted to argue, but no words left your lips. 
It worried her how much you sunk into yourself at Kelley’s appearance. How your good mood vanished in a second. 
She shared a look with Kelley over your shoulder, noting the worry in the defender's eyes. 
At least someone else saw it too. 
“Come on, you can sit by me at lunch,” Alyssa said, wrapping an arm over your shoulder and guiding you towards the bench with your gear. “We can talk more about ball placement,” 
You made a low noise and allowed her to pull you back towards the team. 
You would take any help you could get. 
 *****
“Where’s Ducky?” Mal asked as she set her plate down on the table beside Lindsey’s, leaving an empty chair on her other side for you. 
She thought practice had gone well, and the good mood you gained through practice stayed with you to the weight and film sessions that followed it. You seemed excited about dinner, hyping up Chef Teron’s cooking and promising that you would join her after you took a shower. 
“Ducky?” Kelley frowned, taking the seat opposite of her. 
“Y/n,” Mal said, glancing up at the defender.  “She found a baby duck at our first camp together,”
It was the truth, even if it wasn’t the entire story. Kelley didn’t need to know exactly how the nickname had been earned anyway. Mal was sure she wouldn’t want to know…
Lindsey shot her a look. A warning of sorts that while Kelley didn’t know the story, the full extent of Mal’s relationship with you, Lindsey definitely did. 
“Em’s not here either. I’m sure they’re just late. You know how they get when they’re together,” Lindsey said, dragging her eyes away from Mal to look at Kelley. 
Kelley shrugged. “It’s entirely possible,” 
You and Emily were known to get into trouble when the two of you were together. 
“What’s possible?” Emily asked, appearing through the meal room door alone. 
“That you and Y/n are late because you two are nuts when you’re together,” Lindsey said, stabbing a piece of her chicken. “It's why Paul banned it at u20 camp,” 
Mal rolled her eyes. “No. He stopped putting them together after Y/n was up for three nights straight because she lost a bet,” 
“That’s true,” Emily shrugged. “She was on the phone with the mysterious Taylor when I left. I didn’t want to wait for her anymore,” 
Kelley’s eyebrows furrowed. “Who?”
She had never heard of Taylor before. 
Emily's shoulders lifted and fell again. “The girl that Y/n isn’t dating but pretty much is,” 
“I’m not dating her,” You grumbled, finally joining the table. 
Mal frowned when you took the seat between Kelley and Emily instead of the seat she had saved for you. She slid the plate she had made for you across the table nonetheless, and you nodded in thanks. 
Emily rolled her eyes, ignoring the way you glared at the side of her head. “She flew to your apartment because she was worried about you, and then went to a shitty game that you only played in for 22 minutes,” 
“I scored a hat trick,” You muttered, stabbing at the pasta Mal had grabbed for you. “It wasn’t that shitty,” 
“I’m sorry, what?” Kelley blinked at you. 
She was usually the first person you told things to, despite how… strained things were between you and your sister at times. It felt very strange to her to be out of the loop. 
You let out a suffering sigh. “It’s nothing. Emily is just blowing everything out of proportion,” 
“Am I?” Emily asked incredulously. “Let me repeat, a girl flew across the country to see you because you were sad,” 
“She’s my friend,” You muttered. 
“Ok,” Kelley said, holding up her hand to stop whatever retort Emily was about to make. “It was very nice of your friend to visit,” 
You hummed, seemingly mollified. “It was. She got to try her first burrito,” 
“What kind of person has never had a burrito?” Lindsey snorted. 
And your shoulders lifted and fell. “She’s from Pennsylvania. I don’t think they’re popular there. Or in Nashville,” 
Emily opened her mouth like she was going to protest, but a sharp look from Kelley had her closing it again. 
The way to get information out of you was to drop the pressure, and let you share what you felt comfortable with, even if it wasn’t the juicy details that anyone really wanted. 
“Does she live in Nashville now?” Kelley asked, pretending like she wasn’t invested in the answer. 
Your nose scrunched, and you chewed your food thoughtfully. You had only visited her in Nashville so far, but you knew she spent a larger amount of time in New York. 
 “At least part-time,” You said, stabbing another set of noodles. “She splits her time between there, LA and New York,”  
“Nice, kid,” Kelley hummed. 
“It’s good to make friends,” Mal added, swallowing the sudden lump in her throat, as you smiled brilliantly at her. 
She would believe you when you said that this… Taylor was your friend. After all, she was just your friend too. 
“What about friends?” Alex asked, appearing at the table, and placing her plate down next to Mal. 
“We were just talking about Y/n’s new friend,” Emily said, waggling her eyebrows. “Apparently she never had a burrito before she met your sister,” 
A disgusted look crossed Alex's face. “If that’s a sex thing, then I really don’t want to know about it,” 
“It’s not,” You huffed. “I think about more than just sex you know,” 
“You do? I’m shocked,” Alex deadpanned, and the table burst into bemused laughter. 
“You forgot that she thinks about soccer,” Emily cackled, nudging you. “And the dogs,” 
“Ah yes, the pack of mythological creatures,” Alex said, rolling her eyes. 
“So dogs, soccer, and sex. Seems pretty reasonable to me,” Kelley flicked the side of your head, and you jerked away from her. 
“I fucking hate you guys,” You ground out, stabbing another piece of your chicken, more bitterness than you meant leaking into your tone.
Mal’s head tilted to the side, as the comment only earned more laughter from the table. She noticed something she couldn’t place in Alex’s expression as the giggles died down. 
“I think she thinks a lot about penalty kicks too,” Lindsey added, chuckling. “It was all her and Alyssa would talk about at lunch,” 
Your face twisted into a grimace, and Mal knew at once that you didn’t find it funny. She saw Kelley’s arm shift next to you like a hand was placed on your leg to keep you from pushing yourself out of your seat. 
Alex’s eyebrows furrowed at the comment, and she leaned forward in her chair. 
“Your hips twist to the left when you aim for the top right corner,” She said, her voice going oddly gentle. “If you twist your plant foot outward, it’ll counter it so you can keep your hips square and still have the same power,” 
You froze, your forks halfway to your lips, and your back went rigid. 
It was one thing for Alyssa to offer her help, and another for your sister to do it. 
You bit back your retort that Alex had missed her kick too, that she was no better than you, and forced your fork to your mouth. 
You weren’t in a position to deny help. Even if you didn’t really want it. 
“I can show you later if you want,” Alex continued, seeming unphased by your stiffness. 
“Sure,” Your voice squeaked as you agreed, your eyes dipping. 
Alex’s smile was blinding. “Awesome. We can do it after dinner and before movie night,” 
Your chin barely moved as you nodded in agreement, chewing on your bite. 
Taking pointers from Alex was not a top thing on your to-do list. 
*****
“I just feel like it cuts my power in half,” You sighed, running a frustrated hand through your hair and turning away from the little goal the staff had set up for you. 
“You just need to find the right foot angle so your hips can get around it,” Alex positioned her hands as she explained it. “Just play with it for a bit. I’m sure you’ll get it,” 
You could feel her eyes on you like you were a specimen under a microscope, but you didn’t look up to meet her eyes. 
You couldn’t meet her eyes. 
It reminded you too much of when you were young. Of the hours the two of you would spend in the backyard, critiquing each other play after play. Of the summers you spent under the hot sun, practicing skill after skill until you could take out every other player you faced. 
It reminded you that Alex was more than a teammate. And that was too much. 
“Y/n,” Alex said, her voice going very soft, her hand landing warm and grounding on your shoulder. 
You sucked in a shaky breath. The two of you hadn’t been this close since she left for college. You hadn’t let her this close to you. 
“I’m fine, Alex,” You muttered, trying to shrug her hand off, but she didn’t let you. 
“You’re not,” Her fingers tightened on your shoulder. “And part of that is my fault,” 
Your jaw clenched. “You didn’t sky your penalty,” 
While Alex’s kick hadn’t gone in, it hadn’t been taken nearly as badly as yours was. The keeper had beaten her, while you had simply beaten yourself. 
“No,” She agreed softly. “But I also didn’t make sure you were ok afterward,” 
No. Afterward, everyone split off into different directions to handle their grief. Alex didn’t even say goodbye to you before flying out of Rio. 
“You don’t need to worry about me. I’m an adult,” You said, finally looking up to meet her eyes. The eyes were a near-perfect replica of yours. “I’m fine. I’m playing well, and I’m showing everyone that I deserve to be here,” 
Alex nodded. 
She couldn’t disagree that you had been on fire since camp started. That the connection you and Mal had on the pitch was proving to be lethal, and that she was sure Jill regretted that you wouldn’t be eligible for the game against Australia. 
But she could see that you were not fine. 
She wished you trusted her enough to admit it. 
“You might be an adult, but you’re still my little sister,” Alex said, her voice still soft, but determined as she squeezed your shoulder again. “And I want to be there for you,” 
“Now you want to be here for me. Now that everyone is watching you care. Now when it’s convenient,” You muttered, finally pulling yourself free of her hand. 
Her eyes snapped towards you, and the bitterness in your tone. “What?”
You paced towards the ball, taking extra time to fish it out of the back of the net, watching it as you directed it back towards the penalty spot. 
“You care now because that’s what you think is expected of you,” You said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “You care because it’s convenient for you now that we’re in the same place. When I go back to Chicago, you’re going to go back to not giving a fuck,” 
“Let’s get one thing straight,” Alex growled, catching your wrist, and whipping you around to face her. “I have never not given a fuck,” 
Your jaw worked like you were contemplating the next words to come out of your mouth, and you slowly looked up to meet her eyes. 
They weren’t the icy stone that she expected or the cold blue that she had become accustomed to. 
They were a deep turquoise, vibrant, and… open. Vulnerable in a way they hadn’t been since you were 9 years old. 
“You just left me,” You said. “And then I was alone,”
Something dark lingered under your words. Something that she knew you weren’t saying. Something that she had a feeling was far deeper than what happened after the Olympics. 
“You have never been alone,” Alex grit out, the hand on your arm tightening. 
You rolled your eyes, ripping away from her grasp for the second time. “Whatever Alex,” 
Alex opened her mouth, a scathing retort on the tip of her tongue, but she didn’t let it fly. She paused, watching the way you focused back on the ball. You flicked it up onto your toe box, juggling it a few times before you let it fall perfectly on the penalty spot. 
She recognized the movement. It was the same one you used when you were young, and you felt too vulnerable to talk. When you needed to control your emotions. 
She let out a long breath, calming the agitation still simmering in her chest. 
You wouldn’t respond to anger and harsh retorts. No. She had to take a more gentle approach. One that wouldn’t threaten your vulnerability. 
“I shouldn’t have left right after the game in Rio,” She said softly, taking a very slow step toward you. “I’m sorry that I didn’t stay to make sure you were alright,” 
Your shoulders rolled, and you positioned yourself to take another kick. “I didn’t need you to stay,” 
“I also should have checked on you after we got back, instead of just assuming that you were fine,” She pushed on as if you hadn’t spoken.
A strange sort of grimace flashed across your features. One you tried to smother as you did your signature run-up, keeping your hips square (and turning your foot out slightly wider) as you took your kick.
The net swished as the ball made contact, banging into the top right corner with a satisfying rattle. 
It was still amazing to her how quickly you could make adjustments. How easy it was for you to figure out the body mechanics to make a slight change work. 
She took another step towards you. “I know I haven’t been there for you, but I want to be. Not because I think it’s what’s expected of me, but because you’re my sister and I love you,”
She wanted to reach out and catch your shoulder again. To force you to look at her, but she knew that wouldn’t help. 
All she could do was watch as the words filtered through your brain; as you worked them over in your head; as you realized that she wasn’t looking for a fight or defend herself and your posture very slowly relaxed. 
“There’s an app,” Alex continued, taking the last step towards you, getting so close that she was nearly brushing your back. “It tracks miles, and fitness, and calories, and I think it could help us reconnect if you want to try it,” 
She could see the way your jaw worked, as you stepped away from her to collect the ball from the net again like you were chewing on her both words and her offer. 
The offer she meant to make while the two of you were still in Rio. 
She waited as you rolled the ball out of the net, flipping it between your feet for a long minute before you finally looked up and met her eyes. “Ok,” 
She nodded, more to herself than to you, just thankful that you had responded at all. She hadn’t expected even that. 
“I love you,” She repeated softly, reaching out and catching your hand and squeezing in 3 slow pulses. 
You squeezed it in return. “I love you too,” 
The slight reluctance in your tone bothered her, but she would take what she could get with you. It was more than she had gotten in a very long time. 
You cleared your throat, breaking the comforting silence that stretched between you. “When I want to kick it left, would I just angle my plant foot in the opposite direction?”
She blinked, once, twice, 3 times. “Yeah. It’ll help you prevent your hips from telegraphing,” 
You hummed, turning away. 
She should have known that you wouldn’t comment further. That you would turn back to football as soon as you could. She knew it wasn’t personal. 
But she wished it didn’t sting as much. 
******
You glanced down at the new addition to your right wrist, shaking your hand and testing how much the little watch slid with the movement. You had been playing with it since Kelley passed it to you at breakfast. 
You didn’t know that Alex’s app required a stupid piece of jewelry, but you hadn’t had the heart to take it off yet. Not when she was actually trying. 
It was still irritating to you, and you worried that it would get in the way during your afternoon practice and lift session, even if you wouldn’t be allowed to join their walkthrough. 
You didn’t want to break it before you really got to use it. You didn’t think that your Red Stars salary would stretch enough to cover a new one. Not when you were planning extra trips to New York. 
You sighed, grabbing your cup of green juice and taking a large sip. 
You were probably going to have to budget more as it was. Flights weren’t cheap, and neither was food, or a hotel (even if Taylor insisted you could stay with her. As her best friend).
“Hey kid,” Jill said, knocking on the Hotel lobby table. “Got a second?”
You gulped down the liquid and gestured towards the empty couch across from you. “Always coach,”
She smiled and settled into the seat. You leaned forward in your own, your drink landing on the table with a thunk. 
“We’re placing you on the active roster for the game against Canada,” Jill said. “Roary said that you had been making slow improvements, but I wanted to see for myself. You’ve proven that you deserve the spot,” 
“I…-“ You blinked at her. “Thank you. I will not let you down,” 
She waved you off. “I’d like to see some nice linking with Mallory and your sister. I want to really push Trancredi and Chapman,” 
“I can do that,” You nodded seriously. You knew you could get balls to Alex and Mal. You knew you could stretch the defense. 
You were a menace on the pitch, especially when you had something to prove. 
You had everything to prove. 
“I know,” Her lips ticked up and she reached across the table to pat your knee as she stood. “Go eat. You’ll be joining full team practice after lunch, and dawn will have my head if you pass out,”
You matched her smile. “Yes, coach. Thank you,” 
“You’ve earned it,” She said, turning and heading off towards the meal room, but she paused before she exited the lobby. “And stop hiding from your friends,” 
You blushed but nodded in agreement anyway. She winked as she left, and you couldn’t help the bubbling laugh that left your lips, undeterred by her request to stop icing out the team. 
She invited you because she wanted to see your progress herself. She wanted to see if you were progressing as slowly as Roary said you were, and you had proven that you weren’t. You had proven you were an asset. 
You had proven them wrong. 
The elation filled your chest, like champagne in a shaken bottle and all you wanted was to let it out. You wanted to tell someone. 
Well, not someone. You wanted to tell Taylor. 
She was the one who convinced them that you could prove them wrong after all. The one who had been there for you, even before you took the penalty kick in Rio. 
You grabbed your green juice from the table and pushed yourself up from the armchair, pulling your phone out of your pocket as you hung a left down a side hallway by the meal room so you could have some privacy before you faced the rest of the team. 
You easily flicked through your contacts, pausing over the one you had recently changed from blondie to Athena after the goddess of wisdom, and pressing it gently. 
“Hey, what’s up,” Taylor’s smiling face met you after the second ring. “Everything ok?” 
“Better than ok,” You nodded excitedly, flashing her a brilliant grin. “Jill added me to the active squad, and I’m playing in the game on Saturday against Canada,” 
Her eyes lit up. “Oh my god! That’s amazing! I’m so proud of you!”
Red leaked into your cheeks. “Thanks,” 
She hummed, her smile shifting into something softer, silence stretching between you for a long second. 
“What time?” She asked, and your eyebrows pulled tightly together. “What?” 
“The game,” She said, the soft look never leaving her eyes. “What time is it on?”
“6ish I think?” Your voice tilted up in question. 
The truth was you didn’t actually know what time the game was on. You didn’t know what time you needed to be on the bus, or when warmups started. 
It was the nice thing about camp. 
You never had to think about a schedule. You just went with the flow.
“I’ll look on the USWNT website,” Taylor rolled her eyes affectionately at you. 
“Good plan,” You said, your head bobbing. 
You opened your mouth to add a quip, but the sound of your name interrupted you. 
You blinked up at the new voice, suddenly realizing that your side hallway wasn’t as private as you thought it was. 
“You’re going to miss lunch,” Mal said, and you wondered how long she had been standing there. How long had she listened in? 
You waved her off. “Just save me a plate,”
You could eat after you were finished with your call. 
“No,” Mal glared at the phone in your hand.  “come on,” 
“You’ve gotta go,” Taylor interjected softly before you could send whatever whippy retort was on your tongue towards Mal, pulling your attention back to the screen. “We’ll talk later, I promise,”  
“I’ll see you later,” You sighed, waving towards Taylor before hanging up, a millisecond before Mal peeked at the screen. 
“That was rude,” You grumbled, slapping her arm when she was close enough. “I was having a conversation,” 
“Well, you were late,” Mal said, rolling her eyes and hooking her arm through yours to pull you tightly to her as she dragged you towards the meal room. “And you get grumpy when you don’t eat,” 
You got more grumpy when you didn’t get to talk to Taylor, but you didn’t voice that thought. 
You didn’t need anyone else questioning your relationship with Taylor, not when she was very firmly your friend. 
OoOoOoO
September 2016
Is it cool that I said all that?
Is it too soon to do this yet?
Cause I know that it’s delicate
The craziness that was August simmered down considerably as soon as September started. It was like the sudden chill in the air was a balm to the insanity that always accompanied the stretch to the playoffs.
With Chicago at the very bottom of the table, well besides Orlando, you knew that your season would likely end in 4 games. It should have made you feel bad, but it didn’t. All you could muster was a strange sense of… blaséness. 
You didn't have it in you to care after the loss of the Olympics. Not in a league that didn’t matter. 
It wasn’t like you were playing for Arsenal. 
What you did care about was that you had earned your national team spot back. 
With 2 assists and a goal yourself against Canada, you had solidified why you deserved your callup. That was before you found out that Taylor was there. 
Things only got better when you got to see her after the game. When you got to hug her and hear her say how proud she was of you. When you got to solidify your plans to see her when you played against Sky Blue. 
Nothing could dampen your… excitement, not even Mal (drunkenly) hanging off of you during the post-game dinner celebration. 
That carried over into your upset win over Portland with Chicago, and the week of practice you had between them and your game in New York. 
And now, sitting in the back of a dark dive bar in Tribeca, trying to ignore your drunk friends (teammates and foes) celebrating, your excitement. Your happiness was nearly palpable. 
Taylor was going to swing by before you left, and the two of you were set to hang out tomorrow too.  
But still, you couldn’t get rid of the nagging feeling in the back of your mind. Of the butterflies that fluttered in your chest each time you so much as thought about Taylor. 
You tried to slam a lid on it. To shove it into a little box, because you knew that if you let it out, you would fuck up your friendship. 
It was how you saved your friendship with Mal after all wasn't it?
You had swallowed the lump in your throat, and taken the little piece of her that she gave you. You had even listened to her talk about him while the two of you cuddled. 
But it was different because you weren’t sleeping with Taylor. 
“Hey, sorry I’m kinda late,” Taylor said, just as a hand landed very gently on your shoulder. 
Your lips instantly ticked up at Taylor’s voice and you turned towards the back of the bar to greet her (slightly surprised she hadn’t come in the front). “Hey, no worries,”
You pushed yourself to your feet and pulled her into a tight hug. Your nose pressed against her neck, and you tried not to think about how the scent of lavender and something so innately Taylor put your swirling thoughts at ease. 
You leaned back with a genuine grin, and slid her the drink you had ordered for her “Old fashion right?”
She frowned but took the drink anyway. “How did you order this? You’re not 21 yet,” 
You shrugged and slid back onto your stool. “I didn’t have to order it,” 
She took the stool next to you, her eyebrows lifting. 
“Really I didn’t,” You said, reaching for your own glass. “The losing team always buys the first round at least,” 
She eyed it warily as you brought it to your lips, taking a sip of her own.
“It’s water,” You said before she could ask. “Because Kelley and Christen strongly disapprove of underage drinking,”
“I do too,” Taylor hummed, leaning closer to you so she could hear you over the bar noise. 
“I know,” You said, sending her a cheeky smile. “How was the studio? Cooking up something good?”
She took a sip of her drink. “I think so. I can show you some of them tomorrow,”
“That would be cool,” You nodded, your eyes flickering towards your teammates. “There’s also a cool little brunch spot in TriBeCa. It’s called the bus stop,”
“I’ve heard about it,” Taylor hummed. “It’s like two blocks from my apartment,” 
“I can pick you up tomorrow and we can go,” You said, watching Taylor carefully. “Roary gets upset when I skip out early,” 
You didn’t want to be too… forward. 
You didn’t want to tip the hand on your feelings when you knew she didn’t feel the same. 
“That should work,” Taylor agreed, without even blinking. “I’ll let Jason know you’re coming and I’ll text you directions to the back entrance,” 
“Jason?” You smirked, trying to keep your voice neutral, and wiggled your eyebrows to complete the effect. “Have a boyfriend you’re not telling me about?”
She was your friend you reminded yourself. You weren’t allowed to feel upset if she was dating someone. She probably wasn’t even interested. 
“No,” Taylor chuckled around a sip of her drink. “Jason is my head of security. He’ll let the team know that you’re not just some random fan,”
“Have many of them knock on your door?” You asked, your smirk widening into something that reminded her of a Cheshire Cat grin as you nudged her shoulder gently. 
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” She sighed heavily and a dark look crossed over her features (making you instantly regret the joking tone you had used). “It’s only gotten worse lately, especially since the video came out,”
You grimaced, your nose scrunching adorably. 
You thought the entire handling of the situation by Kanye’s camp was fucking disgusting. You thought he was a total narcissistic creeper and a douche. 
You had already gotten your national team teammates to agree not to listen to it. 
“If he’s ever at a game, I’ll put a price on who can peg him in the head more times,” You Promised with a short nod, and it earned you the desired effect of her giggle. “But seriously I think it’s fucking gross and that he needs to get a life,” 
“I appreciate that, but I don’t need you to fight for me,”  She said, laying a hand on your shoulder. 
“I know,” You nodded. “But I will anyway. A man should know how to treat people,” 
You would always be willing to defend her honor, just like you would defend Mal or any of your teammates. 
Well, maybe this wasn’t like Mal. You didn’t crave Mal’s soft smile or… praise like you did Taylor’s. You didn’t need Mal to acknowledge your bravery like you wanted Taylor to…
God you were really starting to lose the plot. 
Taylor was your friend. 
“I appreciate it,” She said, red coloring her cheeks. “Anyway, what are your other plans for tonight?”
“I’m going to help Christen drag the team back to the hotel, and then I’ll probably crash,” You shrugged, gesturing towards where Christen and Kelley were dancing with Huerta and Sam Kerr. “This way I’m actually awake to hang out with you tomorrow,” 
Taylor’s lips quirked up into a teasing grin. “I do prefer you conscious,” 
You wiggled your eyebrows, shifting on your stool to block Taylor from the view of your teammates when you caught Christen's eye. 
It wasn’t that you didn’t trust them, you just wanted to keep Taylor to yourself. You didn’t want to have to share her. 
“I didn’t know you owned anything other than sweatpants,” Taylor continued, gesturing towards the dark blue jeans you had accented with a pair of Batman Nikes.
You took a sip of your water to cover the light pink that dusted your cheeks. Maybe you had dressed up because you knew you were meeting her at the bar. “We won, so I had to wear something other than warm-up gear. Christen picked them,” 
Christen had helped you because you didn’t actually know how to put an outfit together. You wore sweats because they went with everything. You didn’t have to think about things matching. 
So by the 3rd try, the forward had taken pity on you. Picking a Manchester City jersey to go with your dark pants and your Nike kicks. 
Taylor hummed, smiling very gently at you like she was reading your mind. 
Really, she was fighting to keep her eyes from tracing your arms where you had rolled the jersey sleeves, and from dipping down to where your jeans hugged your ass. 
“Will you be back to your normal style tomorrow, or is she going to pick your outfit again?”
You rolled your eyes at the playful question. “Depends, do I get anything if I dress up?”
“I’ll buy you breakfast,” She smirked and you chuckled, more red bleeding into your cheeks. “Or brunch,” 
“I think that sounds like a fair trade,” You chuckled, nodding along. She giggled at you, and it was like music to your ears, even against the backdrop of the noisy bar. 
It made your smile broaden, just like it always did. It shouldn’t fill your chest with so much pride that you were the reason she was giggling. 
You really needed to get a handle on yourself before you did something stupid that pushed her away. 
You needed to make sure you wouldn’t ruin your friendship. 
You didn’t know what you would do if you lost Taylor. 
********
“I don’t think words can describe how adorable she is,” Taylor sighed towards her phone, taking a sip of her red wine. “I swear she blushes every time I so much as look at her,” 
It wasn’t her first glass of the night. It wasn’t even her second. 
She had opened the bottle as soon as she had gotten back from the bar, and now it was verging on halfway gone. 
She could feel the effects starting to take place, the way it loosened up her muscles and tongue. The way she couldn’t stop gushing about everything that had happened with you up to this point, not that her best friend was in the dark. She had been telling Selena about you for months, recounting each interaction the two of you had from the texting to the pillow fort cuddles. 
Selena hummed, taking a sip of her own wine on the other side of the phone. “I’m surprised considering how… fierce she was on the field. She almost murdered someone today,”
Taylor rolled her eyes. 
You had gotten in a defender's face after a bad tackle just outside of the box, turning angrily towards the reff when no yellow card followed the challenge. 
“That was a bad call and the reff knew it. The defender came in studs up and ruined a good through ball opportunity,” She said. 
Selena raised an eyebrow. “You know you sound like you’re speaking a different language right?”
It was something that had been happening more frequently. Taylor explaining soccer plays and referring to teams using phrases that Selena had never heard before. With all the time the singer had been spending with you, it shouldn’t have been surprising that Taylor would pick up on the dialect that was always on your lips. 
That didn’t mean that Taylor’s best friend couldn’t tease her for it. 
“Y/n was right to get upset. The defender could have hurt her,” Taylor reiterated seriously. 
“I’m sure,” Selena’s tone dripped with sarcasm as she studied her for a long moment. “When are you going to admit that your sudden interest in soccer is because you’re interested in her,”
Deep red immediately bled into Taylor’s cheeks, setting her face aflame.
 “I've already admitted that,” She muttered, hiding behind a sip. 
“Let me rephrase then,” Selena said, a trading smirk on her lips. “When are you going to admit it to her, because no offense, but she obviously hasn’t gotten the message yet, even after you continue to fly out to her games,”
Taylor choked on her wine, “I thought she finally understood tonight. She saved me a spot away from her teammates so we could have privacy, but then she said something about us being best friends when she walked me to the car,” 
“You’re going to have to be more direct,” Selena said, as Taylor took the last sip from her glass. 
“It’s just…” Taylor sighed, setting the empty glass down. “She’s still so young. She just turned 19. I don’t want to… I don’t know, pressure her into something,”
“I don’t think you are,” Selena said slowly, her lips pursing. “You’re both adults who can consent, and even though you’re older, I don’t think there's an unfair power dynamic happening. You’re her sister’s age right?”
“Yes,” Taylor nodded. 
Her and Alex were both born in 1989, and actually, your sister was older than her by almost 6 months, and you were very much an adult. She had made sure of that, refusing to even pursue a friendship until you were 18. 
“Then it’s not like you're some older woman trying to take advantage of her,” 
“No, I’m not. I would never,” Taylor immediately agreed. 
She would do anything to make sure you weren’t being taken advantage of. She knew how powerful existing dynamics could be, and she did her best to avoid their effects. 
You had to consent at every stage, even your friendship. 
“Then there you go,” Selena shrugged, wiggling her fingers at the screen. “Now can you please stop with the pining and make an actual move? It’s less fun than it was before,” 
Taylor threw her head back with a groan. “But how,” 
She had literary flown across the country because you had been added to the starting lineup for the national team and you still didn’t catch the message. 
Selena chuckled. “You’ve literally written a song about it,”
Taylor groaned again. 
She knew the song that Taylor was talking about. She could hear How you get the girl ringing in her head. 
But this was different. 
You didn’t even know about the pressure that had driven them apart. The demands that her management had of her. The complications of her… profession made it impossible for them to be together in the way that she wanted. 
And she hadn’t communicated that nearly as well as she wanted to. 
“That was different. I fucked up and Diana wouldn’t talk to me,” She said softly, 
“But you know the basics. It’s even raining,” Selena shrugged for a 3rd time, smiling impishly at her. “It doesn’t have to be complicated,” 
Taylor bit her lip. 
Selena made it sound simple, but maybe it was. 
“You’re right,” Taylor hummed, a plan forming in her mind. “I'll call you later. After,” 
Selena smirked. “Good luck with lover girl, but I don’t think you’ll need it,” 
“Thanks,” 
******
Taylor shouldn’t have been shocked by how easy it was to get into the hotel that the team was staying at. She shouldn’t have been surprised that the teenager behind the front desk gave her a room number with very little persuading. 
There also hadn’t been any security on the elevator. Or on the floor, your room was on. 
It was a little scary that she could get to you with literally no one stepping in, but considering your frequently snarky comments about how little people actually cared about you and the league, she should’ve expected it. 
If you said yes. If you started a relationship with her, she would have to do something to put a barrier between you and the fans. 
You probably wouldn’t like the idea of someone trailing you around, like Jason and her team trailed her, but it would be necessary. She would have to talk to Jason about it. Maybe Tony would be up for the job, you seemed to like him anyway. 
Finding your door was as easy as getting the number from the receptionist. 
But she paused in front of the ugly red door, her heart pounding on her chest. 
She swallowed hard, lifting her hand and knocking three times on the door. 
She had no reason to be nervous. You loved seeing her, and it wasn’t like you could bring one of your… conquests to a hotel room you shared with a teammate. 
It would just be your sleepy smile that would meet her. The one where your eyes crinkled and you ran a hand through your ever-unruly curls. 
But it wasn’t your tired smile that met her. 
Instead, it was Christen’s Press’ wide smirk, as the older forward opened the door. 
“So you’re the mystery girl from the bar,” Christen’s chin tilted towards her as she leaned against the doorframe. “I thought I recognized you,”
Taylor’s fingers wound into her cardigan, and she swallowed trying to get some moisture in her suddenly dry throat. 
“Is Y/n here?” 
Her voice came out shaky, horse. 
Christen bit her lip, watching Taylor closely like she was a specimen under a microscope. 
“She is not,” She said finally, her arms crossing over her chest, almost defensively. 
“Oh,” 
Taylor’s whole being deflated. 
If you weren’t here, then where were you? Who were you with?
Christen glanced into the room behind her. “She should be back soon though. Wicked started at 8, and she swore it was only a 3-hour show with a thirty-minute intermission,” 
Taylor’s eyebrows furrowed. “She’s on Broadway?” 
You insisted that you hated anything with a plot, but Broadway musicals had a plot. You had also told her that you were just going to hang out at the hotel with your friends. 
Why had you lied? 
Taylor could see the pity in her eyes, and she hated it. 
“Yeah,” Christen nodded once. “She sees at least one show every time she’s in New York. It’s like her 8th time seeing Wicked, but it’s her favorite,” 
“Oh,” Taylor breathed out. 
A pained look crossed Christen’s face, and she shifted on the door frame. 
“I’m sure you’ve heard about y/n’s reputation. I just…,” Christen’s voice was soft, hesitant even. “If… you woke up alone… or if she promised you something…”
Taylor frowned immediately shaking her head. “We didn’t-. She didn’t-. I wanted to talk to her about our plans for tomorrow,” 
Relief washed across Christen’s face. “Good. The two of you looked adorable in the bar, and she wouldn’t shut up about you. She has a habit of ruining things she thinks she doesn’t deserve,” 
Taylor’s eyebrows furrowed. 
What did Christen mean? What did you ruin? 
“You said she’s seeing Wicked tonight?” Taylor asked, her head tilting. 
Jason should be able to get her close to the theater before they let out. Maybe she could catch you. 
Christen nodded, sensing that Taylor was already forming another plan. “Yes. Jackie Burns is playing Elphaba and she’s one of y/n’s favorites,” 
“Thanks,” 
Taylor was already turning away from her, phone in hand. 
Christen caught her arm before she could retreat down the hall, and Taylor met her deep green eyes. “Just… treat her right, ok?”
“I will,” 
Both women felt the weight of the words. The promise. 
“There will be a hoard of angry footballers with a bounty on your head if you don’t,” Christen’s lips cracked into a smile as she released the singer. “Y/n doesn’t just let anyone close to her,”
“I know,” Taylor matched her grin. 
Taylor had already gotten close to you. Closer than you had let nearly everyone before her. Now she just had to actually get you to agree that your relationship was more.
She would, and then she would protect your relationship and you with everything she had. 
******
Sometimes, being a professional soccer player was… strange. 
Strange because you played on a well-known team, but that you could easily disappear into a crowd. Strange because strangers on the internet all so many opinions about you, but none of them actually knew you. 
They didn’t know how much you loved musicals because it let you escape the truth of your own reality for a few hours. They didn’t know how much you loved the way the skyscrapers were accented against the star-dotted sky. How the billboards lit up the sidewalk and the pedicabs and taxis when you stepped out of a show. 
How the rain made the lights twinkle like the street was covered in fairy dust. 
How the cool October air filled your lungs as you shoved your hands deeper into your pockets as you left the Gershwin Theater. 
You would stay and stand at the stage door, but it was already nearing midnight. You promised Christen you wouldn’t be back too late, and the dollar pizza guy around the corner from the hotel closed at 1. You would not be missing out on a greasy one-dollar slice. It was tradition after all, and you already had Jackie Burns’ signature on a framed shirt. 
Plus the rain made anything but finding the subway entrance something you wholeheartedly didn’t want to do. 
“Y/n,” 
You dipped your head at the call of your name, slipping further into the crowd and leaving the theater. 
You didn’t think that anyone would recognize you. They rarely ever did, but then again your face had been plastered all over the place since Rio. 
You weren’t in the mood to deal with fans anyway, even after a solid win over Sky Blue. Not while you were getting soaked. 
“Y/n, wait!” 
You pulled your hood over your head, ignoring the way it pressed into your damp curls, and hunched your shoulders in an attempt to make yourself disappear. 
You just needed to get around the corner of the Barclay building and cut between the hotdog cart and Juniors and you would be safe in the subway station. Away from prying eyes and the drenching rain, and back towards the team hotel in SoHo. 
“Y/n,” 
The voice was even closer, and a hand caught your arm just as you made it to the corner, pulling you to a dead stop. You let out a long, weary breath, painting a million-dollar smile on your face as you turned. 
Yelling at a fan wouldn’t go over well. 
But it melted as soon as you saw exactly who had grabbed you. 
“Taylor?” Her hair was plastered to her head, her dark gray cardigan soaked through, and her blue eyes accented by running makeup. “Where is your coat? What are you doing here?” 
“I need to talk to you,” 
“We need to get you out of this rain,” You muttered, ignoring her. You yanked your zipper down, and tugged your arms out of your jacket, tucking it around her shoulders and pulling the hood over her head. “You’re going to get sick,” 
You caught her hand after you zipped the coat around her and began to drag her towards the subway. 
At least the 51st station was heated. 
“Y/n wait,” 
Her slippery fingers tugged on yours, trying to slow you down. Trying to stop you. 
“No. It’s like 50 degrees out here and raining,” You grumbled, not even looking at her. 
How had she found you? Why was she out in the rain looking for you? What if she got Pneumonia because she chased after you without a coat?
You were trying to remember what Alex and Kelley always said about rain and cold, after rain games. You were trying to remember how Alex would get you warmed up when you were young. 
“Y/n, stop,” Taylor tugged at your hand again, and you glanced over your shoulder at her, still refusing to stop pulling her towards the subway. 
“What? I don’t want you to get sick and die,” You bit back, as the rain got harder, bouncing off Taylor’s hood in large, heavy drops. “Why would you come out here without a raincoat or an umbrella? Or-,”
Taylor jerked you towards her before you could finish, and before you could process what was happening, her lips met yours, stealing the end of your sentence. 
You blinked, your lips frozen for a long second, taking in the feeling of Taylor’s warm lips accented by the cool drops of rain. 
It was like your brain had short-circuited. 
You couldn’t kiss back, or pull away (even though you didn’t want you). All you could do was stand here, mouth halfway open, blinking owlishly at her. 
Her thumb brushed against your cheek as she leaned back, her eyebrows furrowed with worry that she had crossed a line. “Y/n,” 
You blinked again, water dripping off your lashes. 
Taylor kissed you. 
She kissed you in the rain. 
Taylor liked you. 
But she hadn’t said that. She hadn’t said anything. 
You blinked for a third time, tilting your chin up and leaning forward to connect your lips again.
 Taylor sucked in a breath before gently returning the kiss. 
Your lips moved together like they were made for each other. It was slow and warm, and… wet, accented by the rain dripping down your faces. 
Your hands found her waist, your fingers squeezing her hips, and hers tangled in the soaked baby hairs at the back of your neck. 
It was a perfect first kiss. Something out of a fairytale, or one of Taylor’s songs. 
You finally pulled away, breathing heavily through your nose, almost like you had run a full 90. 
“It’s raining, and I don’t want you to get sick,” You mumbled, leaning in and pecking her lips again. 
“Jason and the car are that way,” She said, gesturing back toward the theater.
You lifted your head in that direction, noting the sleek, black Escalade among the yellow cabs. You couldn’t see who was inside, but you knew that that would be true even if it wasn’t nighttime and pouring with the blacked-out windows. 
It had to be worth more than pretty much everything you owned, and you were soaked through. 
It would ruin the interior, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to afford fixing it.
Taylor shivered though, and you sighed, nodding. “Let’s get you warmed up,” 
“You need to get warm too,” Taylor hummed, trailing her hand down your bare arm and catching your fingers. “I have towels in the car,” 
You squeezed her hand, letting her lead you towards the car. The door was open by the time you got to it, the back seat already littered with black towels and a blanket. 
Taylor slid in first, and you followed after her, wiping your curls out of your eyes, and allowing her to wrap a towel around you, even though you didn’t feel cold. 
“Back to your apartment?” The bulky blonde man in the front seat asked, turning to look at Taylor. 
“I have to go back to the team hotel,” You said before she could answer him. “I’ll get in trouble with the coaching staff if I don’t go back, and it’ll upset my teammates,” 
Taylor’s hand landed on your thigh, squeezing gently like she was telling you that she would take care of it. 
“The hotel it is,” The man smiled, turning back towards the steering wheel, and flicking one of the buttons near the center console. More heat began to flood the car, as it inched forward. “Traffic is pretty bad with this rain, so it’ll be a bit,”
“Thanks, Jay,” Taylor sighed, grabbing the blanket and tossing it over the two of you. “We’re not in a hurry,” 
He glanced up at you in the rearview mirror. “Would you like me to put up the privacy curtain?”
Taylor’s lips curved into a playful smile, and she squeezed your thigh again. “No. Not tonight,” 
You raised an eyebrow at her. 
Did she do this often? This couldn’t have been the first time she was with someone in the back of the car. 
The thought made your stomach tumble.
Maybe the kiss wasn’t because she wanted something more, but because she wanted… sex. It wouldn’t be a shocker with your reputation. You were easy, always up for a lay. She just wanted to blow off some steam. 
You shut down that thought. 
It didn’t matter. 
“Are you warm enough?” Taylor asked, and your eyes snapped up to meet hers. 
“Hm?” your eyebrows furrowed deeper. 
You didn’t feel cold. 
She reached up very slowly, brushing a stray curl from your forehead and laying a thumb very gently on your lips. “Your lips are still trembling,” 
You leaned into the warmth of her hand, unable to stop yourself. “Oh, I’m ok. I’ve had to play in the rain before. This isn’t that bad,” 
She looked unconvinced, her other hand adjusting your towel so it covered more of your frame. “You shouldn’t have given me your jacket,”
“You shouldn’t have been out in that without one,” You shrugged, earning an eye roll. 
“I had important things to talk to you about,” She said, her thumb dragging from your lips to brush your cheek. 
Your lips tilted into a teasing smirk. “I don’t think we actually talked,”
“But I think you got the message,” She murmured, completing the circuit with her thumb back towards your lips. 
“Did I?” Your eyebrow quirked up at her. 
She tapped your lips, before leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to them. You couldn’t help the way you leaned into her, and kissed back, even if it had warning sirens blaring in your head. 
You would ignore the gnawing feeling that this would ruin your friendship and that Taylor would leave when she was done with you 
“You did,” She hummed as she pulled away, her thumb gliding across your cheek again. 
She sounded so sure of herself. Far more sure than you felt. 
Maybe Emily was right. 
Maybe you should just go with it.
OoOoOoO
You let out a long breath, leaning your forehead against the cool, hotel room door, watching as little water droplets slid down the smooth, red surface. Your hand rested on the handle, but you had no intention of opening it.
Not yet. 
Not while your head still felt like it was in a blender. 
Not while you were still reeling from the feeling of Taylor’s soft lips pressed into yours. Of her thumb making circuits from your cheek to your lips and back. Of her blue eyes staring at you like she could see beneath your skin like she wanted you more than she wanted anything else. 
But she couldn’t want you. 
She probably just wanted to… experiment, and your reputation made you an easy choice. 
You blew out another breath, hoping that the feeling of it leaving your lungs would help steady the shakiness in your knees. 
It was embarrassing, but you had been fantasizing about what her lips would feel like, how she would taste, for a long time. And now that you had actually tasted them, well, it was a craving you weren’t sure you’d ever be able to satiate. It would be so much worse when she decided she didn’t want you. 
You watched a water droplet slide down the door, lazily making its way around a chip in the paint. 
But maybe she did want you. 
You had chased you down in the rain, without a jacket, after all, and kissed you in the street like she didn’t care who was looking. 
You let out one more breath, fishing the key card out of your back pocket and pressing it against the lock until it clicked. You let your forehead push the door open, only lifting it after you had stepped inside the hotel room. 
You weren’t surprised to see that the lights were still on, and Christen was still sitting up in bed a book in her hand and her reading glasses still firmly in place. 
“I was about to send out a search party,” She hummed, catching her bookmark from the nightstand and carefully placing it into the book. It was only then that she looked up at you, a frown pulling at her lips. “Why are you all wet? Where is your jacket?”
You had the decency to send her a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry. I got distracted and then Tony’s pizza stand was closed so I had to go to the corner slice in Tribeca. I lost my jacket somewhere along the way,” 
You pulled your sodden Manchester City jersey over your head. “Do you think it can be saved?” 
Christen rolled her eyes and pushed herself to stand, crossing the room to the small closet and pulling out a hanger. “Let’s hang dry it, and we’ll see,” 
You followed after her towards the bathroom, turning it the right way out and gingerly sliding it onto the hanger. “It has to be ok. Bronze is my favorite and my parents finally got a name right,” 
She took it from you and hooked it around the shower curtain rail. “A true miracle that I’m sure Alex had nothing to do with,” 
Alex couldn’t have had anything to do with it. You never told her that you liked Bronze. You had only told Rosie. 
Though you weren’t sure how your parents had picked the right one…
She turned back to you, her eyes flickering to the skin just above your lips. A smirk broke across her face and she reached up to brush her thumb over your cheek. “Is that lipstick?”
You jerked your head away from her. “No,” 
There was no way Taylor’s lipstick could be on your soaking-wet skin. Not with the way the rain had drenched the two of you. 
Except… 
your eyes closed. 
Taylor had kissed your cheek before you exited the car. You slipped out of the Escalade under the awning of the hotel, safe from the rain. 
“Let’s get the not lipstick off of you then,” Christen hummed noncommittally, pulling you closer to the sink. “How did you get so soaked?”
You waited until she turned away from you to dig into her makeup bag to answer, contemplating the words that you would say. 
Surely her advice would help too, but then her girlfriend would probably tell your sister. 
It would be easier if you just kept it all to yourself. If you just followed Emily’s advice and went with it. 
“I got distracted and the corner slice doesn’t have indoor seating,” you said, eying the bottles she was pulling from her bag, dabbing a cotton ball on the top. “What’s that?” 
“Makeup remover,” She hummed, her fingers catching your chin and tilting it so she had a better view of the offending red on your lips. “It must be waterproof, so this is the only thing that will get it off unless you want to dye the sheets red,”
Your nose scrunched at the acrid smell on the cotton ball as she very gently began to swipe it against your lips. You let your eyes slide closed, trying to ignore how small it made you feel. Trying to ignore how much it reminded you of when you were little. 
But it was too late.
You could feel the ghosts of her hands drawing across your cheeks in quick, practiced movements, and practically hear Alex’s “hold still little monkey,” ringing in your ears. You could see the soft smile that always played at her lips and the way her blue eyes focused as she helped you. 
“Hold still little monkey, I’ll be quick. I promise,” 
They were memories you didn’t want to remember. They brought a warm, protected feeling to your chest that you wanted to forget. 
The betrayal that followed would hurt less if you forgot if you didn’t remember the safety and care that had never been a question before it. The feelings that you were searching for in one bed or another. The feelings that you were convinced you would never feel again.
But then you met Taylor, and she made you want to believe you were wrong. 
“You’re good to go,” Christen said, pulling you back to reality. 
Your eyes blinked open, and you sent her a charming smile as you pulled away. “Thanks,”
She nodded back at you, watching you for a long minute like she wanted to say something she wasn’t sure about. 
“What?”
“Your hair is sticking up,” Christen quirked a small smile at you, and your eyes flickered toward the mirror, frowning.
You were sure that’s now what she was going to say, but you were grateful that she didn’t voice whatever thought she had.
But she was right. Amongst the mop of curls you had been letting grow since the undercut disaster of the 2015 World Cup, several were sticking up at strange angles. The one at the crown of your head standing straight up in a semi-hilarious impression of alfalfa from the little rascals. It was probably due to the water and wax that you always wore on game days to keep it out of your eyes mixing. 
They would be a bitch to fix in the morning if they dried like that. Maybe you would just wear a beanie over them instead of putting in the effort to fix them. Or maybe you would just chop them all off again.  
You reached for one of the small white hand towels, tossing it over your wild, tangled, soaked curls and dropping your pants with the other in a fluid motion. “I should dry off,”
Christen rolled her eyes, entirely used to your antics after spending a season in a locker room with you, and many more of being on the national team. She was just thankful you had a bra and boxers on. “And maybe get rid of the sex hair so the media doesn’t have a field day,” 
You wiggled your eyebrows at her, pushing her towards the bathroom door. “Well, what would they do with my reputation then,” 
Realize you’re not what you present yourself as Christen thought wryly. 
She wondered if Taylor had figured that out yet too. That you hid your sunshiney personality under a brash and untrusting exterior. 
The girl had gone chasing after you in the rain after all, so maybe, just maybe, she saw you for what you really were. And hopefully, she was prepared to give you what you needed. 
What you clearly didn’t feel you had the right to crave. 
******
November 2016
Windows flung right open, autumn air, 
Jacket ‘round my shoulders is yours
It was a strange feeling, being on the East Coast and it feeling like home. 
You had been raised on the West Coast. You spent the majority of your time in the center of the country, but somehow, you found yourself craving the crisp autumn air that only existed in the east. 
There was the possibility that you were just drawn to the city. That you were addicted to how into the game fans got, starting up chants for you even though you were on the opposing team. But there was also the slight chance that your new-found love of the city was directly tied to one of its most beloved inhabitants. 
You and Taylor had only grown impossibly closer in the time since the kiss. The flirty texts between the two of you were more frequent as were the half-dressed locker room photos and videos of you dancing at practice. The calls had also increased to the point where you almost always fell asleep listening to her slow breathing, and woke up to a good morning. 
But despite your increasing closeness, the two of you hadn’t defined what you were. And you had absolutely no clue where you stood. 
You pulled your knee closer to your chest, resting your cleat-covered foot on the bench next to you, and undoing the three special knots you always put in your custom red laces. 
You were thankful that camp was over. That you would get to spend some time in the city after the win. 
“Is there a reason you were terrorizing Colombia? Or was it just for fun?” Emily smirked, appearing on the bench next to you. 
You raised your eyebrows at her, a cocky smile pulling at your lips. “Do I need to have a reason to play well?”
“No,” Emily shrugged. 
It wasn’t your fault that their entire back line had crumbled under your and Alex’s pressure. It wasn’t your fault that Christen had cut through them collecting the balls you sent her way. 
It wasn’t your fault that the keeper had missed the chance to save 4 of your shots. 
“The crowd certainly enjoyed the display,” Rose added, sitting on your other side, effectively trapping you between them. “Just seems like your celebrations were a little too on the nose for you not to be… directing them at someone,” 
You rolled your eyes. Just because you blew a kiss towards a section of the stands after your 3rd goal, didn’t mean that it had been directed. And just because the chanting of your name only got louder after that didn’t mean it had been for them. 
Well, it didn’t have to mean it was directed, even if you did have a person in mind to receive it. 
No one else had to know that. 
“It was the section who did the Morgan magic chant,” You mumbled, pulling off your cleat and lining it next to the fancy pair of Vans you had chosen for tonight. 
“Got a hot date?” Emily asked, nudging your shoulder with her own as Rose turned from the two of you and became engrossed in a conversation with Sam. 
“Something like that,” You mumbled, moving on to your other cleat. “I’m still not sure… where I stand. With my friend.”
“The one you’ve been sending half-naked photos to?” Emily wiggled her eyebrows at you. 
You would never live down the after-training snapshots you had taken or the pictures from the weight room that you had sent off. 
You nodded reluctantly. “We’ve been more flirty since September,”
“Since the kiss?” She asked, watching as you shed your game shorts and grabbed a pair of jeans instead of your usual post-game sweats. 
“Yes,” You nodded, pausing for a second and biting your lip. “But I just… I’m going to fuck this up,” 
You ran a hand through your messy hair, still damp from the post-game shower. 
“You’re not,” Emily rolled her eyes, and she stole your shirt from your locker before you could pull it over your head, forcing you to look at her. “You’re doing pretty well so far. Just don’t make it complicated,” 
You met her eyes, swallowing hard. 
“Just go with it,” You repeated her own advice back to her. 
You were just having dinner and a movie night with Taylor. It would be familiar. Easy. 
It didn’t have to be complicated. 
“Exactly,” She agreed, tossing your shirt at you. “You seem to be going with the flow pretty well,” 
You pulled the green material over your head, reaching into your locker for your trusty hair wax, rubbing it between your hands, and trying to smooth out your hair. 
You glanced down at your phone when it buzzed. “Speaking of going with it, I’ve gotta go,” 
You slid the device into your pocket along with your wallet and hooked your fancy watch on your wrist. You shoved your feet into your Vans and sending a wink towards Sonnett. 
“I’ll make sure your bag makes it to Kelley. Tell Taylor I said hello,” She smirked, patting your back as you headed towards the locker room door. 
You looked over your shoulder at her. “No,” 
Before slamming the locker room door shut. 
You turned the corner, finding a quiet place in the hall, and leaned against the cool brick of the stadium, hoping no one would see you. 
Maybe you had directed your hat trick kiss towards where you knew a specific person was watching. 
You pulled your phone out of your pocket and opened your messages. 
You loved Emily, and Rose. You really did, but their propensity for butting in while you were texting had been particularly grating after they found out who you were sending messages to. 
They had already gotten a hold of your phone twice. Once they tried to call her and the second they sent a string of cryptic texts that had Taylor convinced you had gotten hurt at practice. It took you almost 3 hours to convince her that you were actually fine. You had even had to put her on the phone with Luke from the physical therapy staff to convince her that she didn’t need to fly in from Nashville early. After that, you stopped texting around them altogether and changed your password to a 37-digit code. 
Plus, Mal glared at you whenever you were on your phone. 
Athena 👸🏼: Tony and Jason are taking me to the back tunnel by the car. Do you want to meet us there, or do you want us to meet you somewhere else?
Your eyebrows pulled tightly together and you looked away from your phone and down the long hallway. 
You certainly didn’t want her to be anywhere near the locker room where your sister and your nosey teammates were. You weren’t ready to… share Taylor with them yet. You weren’t ready to answer questions when you weren’t even sure where you stood with her. 
Your relationship felt… fragile… and you weren’t ready to mess that up yet. 
Soccer hottie ⚽️: Stay put, I’ll meet you there. 
You pushed yourself off the wall, turning to your left and strolling down the maze of hallways. You didn’t need to look at the signs to know which way to go, you had been to Red Bull (and snuck out of it with company you wanted to keep away from prying eyes) enough that you had the layout memorized. 
“Hey hotshot,” 
“Hey,” You smiled widely as you rounded the corner and Tony came into view. 
You had been seeing him far more frequently since the kiss. Part of you thought it was because he just lived near you in Chicago. He liked the same smoothie place you did and frequented the same restaurants. 
But a smaller part of you wondered if Taylor had something to do with it. 
“I thought you would be waiting with Tay,” You said as he squeezed your arm, pulling your overnight bag from your shoulder and slinging it over his own. 
“She sent me to come find you,” Tony said, a teasing smirk pulling at his features. 
You knew it wasn’t you he was teasing. 
“I don’t need a babysitter,” You sighed, running a hand through your still-damp hair, brushing the unruly curls from in front of your eyes. 
“She was impatient,” He shrugged, unbothered by (or entirely used to) your protest, gesturing to the barely noticeable clear earpiece in his right ear. “I offered to find you and give her an eta,” 
The wire disappeared down the back of his shirt where you were sure it connected to a radio. You rolled your eyes. 
Maybe you should be flattered that she wanted live updates of your whereabouts, but you couldn’t help the sinking feeling in your chest that she didn’t think you were capable of making it to the car tunnel on your own. 
“I told her I was on my way like 2 minutes ago,” You huffed, glancing behind you. 
You hadn’t taken long after the game to exit the field. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. You finished the obligatory lap and then stayed to sign autographs for the fans that had cheered for you all game. 
You rushed through the showers after Vlatko’s post-game droning and changed quickly. 
“I know,” Tony agreed, falling into step beside you as you continued down the corridor. “She’s just excited to see you. You put on quite the show,” 
You wiggled your eyebrows. “The crowd got into it and that made scoring and setting up my friends more fun,” 
Tony made a low humming noise as he stepped in front of you, pushing open the double doors that led to the private car tunnel so you didn’t have to. 
You barely stepped through before a body collided with yours. 
Your hands caught Taylor’s hips as you stumbled, and she wrapped you in a very tight hug. 
“I missed you,” She mumbled, and you felt a hand on your back to steady the two of you. 
You hummed, tucking your nose into her collarbone and squeezing her. “I missed you too,” 
It was true. 
It had only been six weeks since the last time you saw her in person, and you talked at least once a day, but it was a feeling of longing that saturated your being. Her presence was a deep… need that seeped into your bones. 
It was a little alarming how… dependent you felt.
The two of you embraced for another long moment, and you let the smell of coconut and lavender from her perfume wash over your senses and soothe the post-game dip that always prickled your brain. 
“You played so so well,” She said, pulling away, a wide smile radiating off of her.
You let your own cocky grin pull across your features. “Thanks, I like to get the crowd fired up,” 
“They were electric,” She hummed, letting her hand trail down your arm and landing lightly on your stomach. 
You opened your mouth to respond, but Your stomach ruined the moment with a loud rumble. 
Taylor frowned. “Have you eaten today?” 
“Not really. I had lunch and then just a protein bar and a veggie shake,” You shrugged, sending a guilty look her way. “I don’t like to have a lot in my stomach during games,” 
It was a bad habit you had picked up in highschool after a very hot game in August ended up with your pasta lunch making a reappearance in a sideline trash can. 
“There’s a fantastic Italian place by mine?” Taylor offered, almost shyly as your stomach rumbled again against her hand. 
You leaned in and pressed a very sweet kiss to her lips, unable to resist, and enjoying the light red that dusted her cheeks. 
Your hand slipped into her back pocket, and you sent her a cheeky smile. “Lead the way then,”
OoOoOoO
Dinner with Taylor was absolutely incredible. Well, confusing for you, but amazing nonetheless. 
The restaurant she had chosen was small, intimate, and expensive. You looked through the entire menu, choosing the cheapest pasta you could find, even though you fucking hated pesto because it was the only dish that wouldn’t mean you would have to raid the Chicago locker room for snacks when you got back. 
It hadn’t mattered because Taylor paid anyway. 
Conversation flowed between the two of you like water. It was so easy to talk to Taylor, and you were slowly growing addicted to making her laugh. 
It was exactly like it had been before the two of you shared the kiss(s) until you got back into the car. 
She had been very… handsey in the ride back. And you had been handsey too, your fingers dipping past her skirt to squeeze her ass at every opportunity. 
Things hadn't slowed down in the elevator, and you had attacked her neck as she fished out the key to her apartment. 
You were growing addicted to the taste of her skin as well. 
She pressed you into the island, her lips dragging down your neck and towards your collarbone as soon as you were through the door. 
That’s when the anxiety clenched in your stomach, thinking of the way your heart pounded in your ears when you walked out of the tunnel and into a stadium, your eyes trained on the jersey numbers in front of you. 
You needed a way to slow her down. To… delay the inevitable. 
You saw your pale, terrified face in the reflection of her sliding glass door, and it felt like a lightbulb flashing in your brain. 
“Want to go swimming?” You asked suddenly, and her hands paused on your waist as her lips ghosting just over your pulse point. 
“What?”
You felt her lips curl into a frown against your skin.  
“I didn’t take my post-game ice bath,” You said, pulling away, so you could meet her eyes and gesturing towards the city lights glinting off of her infinity pool. “and your pool should be cold enough,” 
Her eyebrows knitted tightly together. “You want to go swimming in October, in New York? Wouldn’t you rather continue this?”
You shrugged, painting a charming smile across your face (hoping she wouldn’t see through it).  “When else will we be able to enjoy a view like this,”
Her lips turned even further down, and your heart beat a little bit faster. 
You didn’t want her to think you were rejecting her. You weren’t. You just…
“You don’t even have a bathing suit,” She said softly, and you could hear the hesitation in her voice. The concern. 
You needed to redirect her. To make her think that everything was ok so you didn’t lose her. 
“I don’t need one,” You wiggled your eyebrows and caught her fingers, tugging her towards the sliding glass door. “Come on,”
The view was even better from outside, the lights of the city twinkling in time with the stars and reflecting off of the pool back at you. 
“Let me at least turn on the pool lights,” She grumbled, reaching for a small remote on one of the lounge chairs. “Wouldn’t want you to miss the edge and get hurt before the end of the season,” 
You smirked, releasing her while she squinted at the clicker. 
***SECTION CONTAINING SLIGHT SMUT***
You easily slipped out of your shorts and pulled your shirt over your head, leaving you in a pair of boxers and your sports bra as you stepped towards the infinity pool. “Don’t mess with it for too long,” 
You didn’t wait for her to respond before diving into the icy water. 
It immediately prickled at your skin like a million tiny needles, pulling the air from your lungs and giving you the sensation of the world's worst brain freeze. You kept your eyes closed, forcing yourself to relax against the painful assault, letting yourself sink to the glacial blue tiles on the bottom of her pool. 
You could visualize the heat seeping out of you and into the shimmering floor, and you allowed yourself to give in to the sensation. To imagine it was the tension in your muscles, the aches that always came after a game, slowly leaching into your frigid surroundings. 
Letting the water numb your anxious mind until all that was left was a serene sense of calm. 
It felt familiar. Good in a masochistic sort of way that you couldn’t accurately put into words. 
Your brain absentmindedly reached its countdown from 45, and you pushed yourself off of the bottom. 
You let out a long breath as your head broke the surface, wiping your curls out of your eyes, and turning towards Taylor. 
She was at the edge of the pool, the remote hanging loosely in her hand, her wide eyes glinting off of the fairy lights strung along the balcony and over the pool. 
“You coming?” You asked, plastering a playful smirk across your lips. “Or are you just going to stare?”
Her mouth opened and closed, reminding you of a fish. 
You rolled your eyes, gilded towards her, stopping at her feet and looking up at her through your lashes. 
You dragged your fingers along the seam in the tiles and gently laid your hand on her foot, trying not to smirk at the shiver that ran down her spine. “It’s kinda lonely in here,” 
She blinked at you, slowly pulling her shirt over her head and dropping it behind her. 
You couldn’t help the way your eyes dragged down the newly exposed skin of her collarbone, between her breasts, and down to the waistband of her jeans where she was thumbing the button there. 
All of your attention was glued to her as she slid the material down her long legs, revealing creamy skin that made your mouth water accented by the deep blue material of her underwear. 
It stirred butterflies in your chest like the sight of no other woman had. You wanted her like you had never wanted anyone. 
Not even Mal. 
“It’s unfair how hot you are,” Taylor mumbled, settling on the edge of the pool, her legs bracketing you as she slid them into the frigid water. 
You ran your fingers up her calves and onto her thighs. “You’re not bad yourself,” 
She rolled her eyes, reaching down and smoothing your curls off of your forehead, dragging her hands down your face to cup your cheeks. Her bottom lip disappeared between her teeth. “It’s criminal how much you show your abs during games,” 
You shrugged, floating closer to her and letting your thumb toy with the elastic on her underwear. “Sweat burns when it’s in my eyes. Plus the fans like it, and so do you,”
Taylor made a low noise, drawing you closer to her, so you could feel her breath on your lips. “You’re a tease you know?” 
“You dig it,” You smirked, leaning in the final centimeter to connect your lips in a slow kiss. 
You couldn’t help the low sound that came out of the back of your throat as her tongue gently pressed against your lips, and you opened them to meet her. 
She tasted like red wine and strawberries and something that was so… Taylor. 
It was sweet and spicy and addictive. 
And it made you want her. 
You pulled away when air became an issue, trailing down her cheek to her neck, under her chin, and lavishing the skin you found down by her pulse point with your tongue. You enjoyed the way you could feel her heartbeat, how you could feel it quicken under your ministrations. 
You tried to keep your mind focused as you made your way down her neck, to her chest. You tried to focus on the softness of her skin and to memorize the way it tasted. To imprint in your mind how your tongue glided in velvet skin. 
You tried not to let your thoughts drift towards how a soccer ball felt at your feet. How you were still working on how to twist your hips to not give away which direction you were going to kick. How you needed to point your toes to perform the newest trick you were learning. 
Her fingers tangled in your hair, weaving through the wet curls close to your scalp and pulling you impossibly closer. 
You mouthed the edge of her bra, placing feather light kisses in a line between her breasts (paying special attention to the barely visible freckle you found there), ghosting down her stomach, and landing on the elastic of her underwear, letting her hand guide you where she wanted you. 
You looked up at her, meeting her hazy blue eyes. “Are you sure?” 
Her fingers tightened, pleasantly scratching your scalp. “I’ve never been more sure,” 
Your lips tilted into a devilish grin, your body sipping lower into the frigid water. “As you wish,” 
*****
Taylor panted heavily against you, each breath warming your neck as you spun in slow circles in the cold water. Her legs wrapped tightly around your waist, and your hand worked slowly between your bodies, bringing her down from her orgasm. 
You had lost track of what number she was on. Actually, you had lost track of pretty much everything after her underwear came off. 
It didn’t matter how hard you fought to stay present, you couldn’t help the way your brain slipped away. How your thoughts slid from Taylor the second you were level with her center. How the all-encompassing butterflies in your stomach fluttered away and you faded into familiar sensations and your thoughts turned to soccer. 
You knew it was weird to be working through a double-pivot formation while you were having sex. It was weird for you to be thinking about ball rotations and through passes or lineups for upcoming games while you were getting a girl off. 
Except it’s where your mind always went. 
Taylor made a low noise against your throat, and your fingers stopped gliding through her velvety folds. Your other arm tightened around her as you pulled your hand away, bringing it to your lips and lightly sucking your fingers. 
You sighed at the taste, sweet, salty, and a little tangy, happy that Taylor's pool was salt water instead of chlorine. It would have made this entire experience much less enjoyable. 
“Don’t do that,” Taylor said, her nose nudging the space under your chin. 
“Hm?” You hummed around your finger, your abs flexing as she shifted. 
She reached for your wrist, pulling your finger from your lips. “I need a minute before I can go again, and you make it hard to wait,”
You leaned in and connected your lips, your tongue probing at her bottom lip and gently slid your tongue in when she parted her lips. Her hips rolled and you flexed your abs to give her a better surface. 
“I can’t help it,” You smirked as you pulled away. “You just taste so good,”
She shivered against you, but you weren’t sure if it was from overstimulation or the cold. 
“Come on, let’s get cleaned up,” You said, walking towards the pool stairs. “And you can recover,” 
Her legs tightened around you as you carried her up the steps, and her head rested on your shoulder. “I forgot how strong you are,” 
You made a low noise, focusing on your feet so you didn’t slip and send you both back into the freezing pool. 
“Where is your bathroom?” You asked, carefully sliding her glass door open and stepping into her apartment. “I don’t want to get water everywhere,” 
“Down the hall to the left,” She said, lifting an arm to gesture down the hallway, but not moving her head from its safe space between your neck and shoulder. “It’s through my bedroom,”
You nodded, easily making your way through the hallway, across the dark carpet of her bedroom, and into the massive master bathroom. 
You set her down on the Marble counter you found there, placing a light kiss on her head before you turned away towards the giant bathtub, and began fiddling with the golden faucets. 
It took you a second to make the water a good temperature and to flick the drain plug before you returned to her, slotting between her legs again.
“Do you want a drink or something?” You asked as she pulled you back in for another kiss.
“I’d love one,” She breathed against your lips. “I have wine in the fridge,” 
“I’ll go get it,” You hummed. “You just stay here and look pretty,” 
Her mouth curved against yours, and you finally pulled away, kissing her nose before you padded off toward the kitchen (ignoring how she tapped your ass as you left). 
It felt like a weight left your chest as you exited her bedroom, and you took a long breath as you made it to the kitchen. 
There had to be something fucking wrong with you. 
You had a naked woman two rooms over. A woman who had gone skinny dipping with you. A woman who was recovering so you could give her another orgasm. And here you were, doing your best to stall. Trying to quell the growing dread in your stomach. 
You shook your head, going to the wine fridge and pulling out the half-full bottle of red you were sure was the one Taylor wanted. You also grabbed two water bottles and found a wine glass in the cabinet. 
Just because you had hooked up with her… were actively hooking up with her… didn’t mean that she wanted your relationship to change. 
You took another deep breath. 
Being weird about any of this would just make it worse. 
You could be normal. 
You could save your friendship. 
You turned from the kitchen, slowly making your way back to the bathroom. 
Taylor smiled softly at you when you returned, holding out her arms to you. “I can’t believe you never took your clothing off,” 
You painted an easy smirk on your lips, setting the bottles and glass down on the counter before, letting her wrap her arms around you. “You were distracted,” 
She hummed. “You’re… very good with your hands,” 
You wiggled your eyebrows, leaning in to peck her lips before you turned away. You turned off the water in the tub and held your hand out for her. “Get in first. I’ll pour you some wine and join you. This way I can show you the other things my hands are good at,” 
She rolled her eyes, but let you guide her into the tub, sighing as she immersed herself in the warm water. 
You waited for her to get settled before you poured her half a glass of wine and passed it her way, and you grabbed a bottle of water for yourself, cracking it open and taking a very long sip. 
Taylor made another low sound, and you felt her eyes on you, following every movement. You flexed your arm and abs for effect as you finished off the bottle. 
You smirked at her as you pulled it away from your Lips, setting it on the counter. “Lean forward so I can get into the tub,” 
She eyed you, shaking her head. “This is a clothing-free zone,” 
“Is it?” You asked, cocking your head to the side. 
She hummed. “It is. I can’t believe you still have boxers and a bra on,” 
“You were distracted,” You shrugged smirking devilishly at her, placing the bottle on the counter and easily slipping out of your soaked boxers. “Something about the water being too cold,” 
“Try freezing,” She huffed, her eyes tracing the newly exposed skin of your thighs (your muscles standing out because of the cold), up towards your hips, taking a large sip of her wine. “But you warmed me up,”
“I’m good at that,” You murmured, pulling your bra over your head and stepping towards the tub. “Please lean forward so I can get in,” you 
“You are,” She breathed out as you slid into the tub behind her. She shifted so your thighs could encapsulate hers. 
Your arms wrapped gently around her middle, your palm laying flat on her stomach and your chin resting on her shoulder. 
You would have laughed at Taylor being the little spoon (because you were the shorter of the two of you), but you liked holding her. You also liked that the only places she could reach were your arms and legs. 
Safe territory. 
Territory that put you in control of the pace. 
“It’s unfair how you look so good, and how good you are,” She let out another breath, wiggling so her back was pressed more tightly against your front. 
You made a low sound, rubbing your hand up and down her stomach, your fingers just barely brushing her pelvic bone on each pass. 
You didn’t like how… pronounced they were. It was something you knew you would have to address at some point but now did not feel like the right time. 
“You’re pretty gorgeous yourself,” You murmured into her neck, kissing behind her ear, and letting your lips travel lower to the special spot you had found near her pulse point. 
Her head tilted to give you more room, and her hands fell to where your knees were bracketing hers just below the steamy water. She pressed very gently into a dark bruise forming on your calf from a mistimed tackle. “You have no idea what you do to me. How much those stupid videos your teammates are always taking make me want you,”
You smirked against the soft skin of her neck, letting your tongue linger for a long second as your left hand dipped even lower on her stomach. 
You knew the videos she was talking about. The ones that always seemed to catch you with your shirt off because you preferred to train that way. You hated when the damp material of your training top clung to you, so you normally forgoed one unless the media team was filming some behind-the-scenes stuff. 
“I’ll have to send you my own videos now that I know you like them,” You said, dragging your lips up her neck towards her ear, and very gently letting your teeth close around the soft tissue. 
She released a shakier breath as your fingers found her clit, and began rubbing very gentle circles. “I’d like that,” 
“You got it,” You hummed, pressing a little harder, and dipping down towards the heat that had nothing to do with the bath water while your other hand sliding up to her chest to toy with her nipple 
You smirked when her wine glass shook dangerously, the red liquid tipping out of the top as your fingers curled, pressing into the very special patch inside her. 
It reminded you of when a ball tipped off of a keeper's fingers. How it bobbled before landing back on the grass. How you always held your breath to see if it would land on the right side of the goal line. 
It was the perk of playing in Chicago, you supposed, that you had Alyssa as your starting keeper. You always felt like the ball was safe in her hands. You felt comfortable taking chances because you knew she was capable of cleaning up any messes you made. That her and JJ would protect the goal well enough that you could push forward. 
Taylor tensed around your fingers, and the glass finally fell, landing thankfully in the water instead of crashing to the ground outside of the tub. 
You kept your pace as she rode out her orgasm, your eyes focused on the red dissipating into the water until she finally relaxed against you. You finally pulled away when you were sure she was finished, kissing behind her ear and listening to her labored breathing as she came down. 
Her head turned, and you laid a kiss on her cheek. “You made me spill my wine,” 
“Oops,” You chuckled, not at all sorry, tweaking her nipple again before letting go and resting your hands on her stomach. 
She giggled in response, swatting your knee and then soothing her hand over a large bruise forming just below it. “Behave,” 
“I’m not known for behaving,” You said as she reached over and grabbed the fallen glass before either of you could accidentally break it. “It’s why the equipment staff are always following me around with extra shirts,” 
“Try for me?” She asked, her lips curving into a smile you hadn’t seen her send to anyone else, making you melt. “I don’t think I have any more orgasms into me tonight,” 
“Whatever you want,” You agreed, laying another kiss on her cheek. 
She hummed, leaning back into you, and you tightened your arms around her. 
You wondered if you should suggest that the two of you clean up and get ready for bed, but you didn’t even know if she wanted you to stay. You didn’t know if you would be welcome now that the two of you were done. 
You had never not snuck out after. You didn’t know how any of this worked, and you were too afraid to ask. 
“Just give me a few minutes and I’ll return the favor,” She mumbled. “You deserve it,” 
You shook your head, tucking your nose in the space between her neck and shoulder. “I’m good. I got enough watching you,” 
She sucked in a breath.“Are you sure?” 
You hummed, kissing the junction where her neck and shoulder met. “I’m good. I’m with you,” 
It was the truth. 
It was easier this way. You knew how to deal with things this way. 
She made a low noise of agreement. “Let’s just sit for a bit then, and then we can get cleaned up and go to bed,”
“Whatever you want,” You placed another kiss on her velvety skin, content to follow her lead. 
Maybe you would get to keep your friendship after all. 
***END OF SLIGHT SMUT***
OoOoOoO
Mornings were always your favorite. 
You loved the way soft light fluttered through curtains, casting a candle-like glow on the room around you. The way the oranges and yellows melted into brilliant white, chasing away the darkness like lanterns in a cavern.
It reminded you of when you were little, cuddled up to Alex after a nightmare. She would run a hand through your hair, and tell you stories into the early hours of the morning, insisting that tales of Knights and Princesses could chase away the monsters that haunted your dreams. 
“Just close your eyes monkey. I’ll protect you. Always,”
She made you feel safe. The rise and fall of her chest allowing your restless mind to relax.
It was no different here in Taylor’s bed, wrapped in perfect white sheets, her arm draped around your middle, her head resting on your shoulders, and her soft breaths tickling your neck at each exhale. Your bodies were pressed together, and you could feel her bare legs tangled with yours. 
She made you feel safe and warm and like you mattered and that fucking terrified you. 
It kept you up long after Taylor’s breathing turned deep and heavy, staring at the ceiling like it would give you the answers you were searching for. 
You kept your arm wrapped around her, your fingers playing with the very tips of her hair and drawing shapes on the skin of her bare back. 
You had to fight the urge to flee as soon as you were sure she was asleep. The urge that you had always indulged with your hookups. The one that meant you would never have to face the consequences of a hookup. 
But Taylor wasn’t a hookup. 
Even if she didn’t want a relationship, if you got to hold her like this, then you would accept whatever little part of herself she was willing to give you. And that terrified you too. 
You promised yourself you wouldn’t do this again after-. 
You let out a long breath from your nose. 
It wasn’t fair for you to think about that… relationship. If you could call it that. 
You should go before Taylor woke up. Escape before you ruined this like you ruined that. 
“I can feel you thinking,” Taylor mumbled against your neck, her lips tickling your skin. 
“Sorry,” You murmured, running your fingers very gently over the skin of her back and laying a kiss on the top of her head. “Go back to sleep, it’s still early,” 
She shifted against your shoulder, tired blue eyes peering up at you. “What time is it?”
You squinted at the clock on her bedside table. “Just after 6,” 
She groaned. “Why are you awake?”
“Habit,” You said, looking back up at her ceiling, ending the debate in your brain. “I have to go to team recovery?”
It wasn’t a total lie. You did have to pick up your kit bag from the hotel, and you liked to do morning jogs after games to work out your muscles, but really, you needed… separation to quell the monster threatening to rip your lungs into pieces. 
You didn’t know how to not ruin your friendship. How to navigate your feelings without losing her. 
You needed to go for a run, to feel the ache in your chest and your legs to help you figure out what the fuck you were supposed to do. But at the same time, you didn’t want to leave. 
You refused to let her become another hookup. You would just run for a few hours and then return. 
You weren’t running like you did with the others. You were just… catching your breath. You were just getting your head straight. 
“The cold plunge you took last night wasn’t recovery enough?” Taylor asked, smirking up at you. 
You let your lips pull to match her expression. “Unfortunately no, but I can bring lunch back here when I’m done?” 
“I think that sounds like a fair trade,” She said, leaning up on her arm and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. 
“Does it?” You wiggled your eyebrows at her. 
“Hmm,” She made a low sound, connecting your lips again. “Do you have time for a shower before you go?”
You chased her lips with a teasing smirk as she pulled away. “I think that can be arranged,” 
OoOoOoO
“Is there a reason you’re running a one-woman marathon, or are you just trying to make it impossible for Al to beat you this week?” Kelley’s voice cut through the running commentary in your head, and you blinked up at her from where she stood on the steps next to a big Chelsea market sign. 
You glanced down at the smartwatch on your wrist. You didn’t remember putting it on. It had become such a normal part of your morning routine that you didn’t think about putting it on anymore. You had honestly forgotten that Alex was getting alerts about your run until Kelley mentioned it. 
You tried not to think about the connection it had to your sister. You only paid attention to the stupid app when it alerted you that you were losing anyway. 
“Is that why you decided to join me?”
“I know you like the Chelsea market and running the high line,” Kelley said too casually, falling into step beside you. “I joined you because you and your sister only run long distances when something is bothering you, and I thought you would prefer me over Alex,”
You glanced at her, but she adamantly kept her eyes ahead of her. It felt purposeful like she didn’t want you to know she was watching you. 
You were very glad that Alex hadn’t decided to come herself, or that she had been talked out of it. 
“And you thought I’d want to talk,” 
Kelley shook her head. “No, but I do have a way with Morgan women, and I figured I’d support you,”
“Hmm,” You hummed, unable to stop the slight smile that cracked across your face. 
She would never let it go that she was basically your celebrity crush before you met her. You had been obsessed with college soccer when you were young, and Stanford had always been your favorite team. 
While things had changed significantly since her and your sister started dating (and you actually met her), she thought it was hilarious that both of you had been in love with her at some point. She also thought it was hilarious that she was you quote-unquote gay awakening, but you really didn’t like to think about that. 
You let out a long breath as the two of you jogged another few blocks, enjoying the sounds of the city around you. It was strange, but you already associated the city with Taylor. 
“There’s a girl that I really like,” You mumbled, as you both passed a dumpling stand. “I stayed the night,”
Kelley made a low sound next to you. They all knew you met up with someone, but no one knew exactly how that night turned out. And you staying was kind of unheard of. “And you two slept together?” 
You opened your mouth to answer but closed it quickly. Did it count if you never took your clothes off? Did it count if you didn’t let her touch you?
“You got her off like with the others?” Kelley amended, after a quick glance your way. 
“Yes. Then I stayed, and we cuddled,” You admitted, your voice going very soft. “All night,” 
You felt like you were in a weird dichotomy. Sex with Taylor was supposed to feel different because you felt so deeply for her. 
You thought it would because the before was so romantic. You thought it would because you wanted her like you had never wanted anyone before. 
But the act itself had felt… almost routine. It was like you were on autopilot. It was the same as it had been with every other girl you had been with. 
Her body responded the same way theirs had, and it had been so easy to get lost in your own head. 
It was only when she pulled you to her chest afterward. When she kissed your cheek and let you wash her hair before you got out of the bath. When she held you for the entire night, you ran your fingers down the line of her spine. 
It proved that she wasn’t like the others, and you let yourself enjoy the intimacy. It was why you stayed. 
She was still your friend. 
You spat the word in your mind. 
You didn’t want to end up in the no man’s land between friend and more than friend. Not again, the first time nearly ended in disaster, saved only by your mutual love of soccer and the goal of winning the World Cup.
You and Taylor didn’t share the same… uniting factor. 
And with the feelings bubbling in your chest, you knew you would never have the strength to walk away if that's what she asked of you. 
“So this is more than a one-nighter?” Kelley asked though she was already sure of the answer. 
“I think?” You nodded. “I’ve never…I don’t know how to do this, so I called Emily for advice,” 
Kelley’s nose scrunched. She knew how close you and the blonde defender were, especially since the two of you had been going to youth camps together since she could remember. She also knew that Emily knew more about the mysterious Taylor than she did. 
“This is the hypothetical friend that you didn’t think you were dating who had never had a burrito?” 
You hummed again, smiling at one of the dollar slice guys as you passed his little alcove. “I don't want to fuck this up, and I thought Emily would help. She didn’t,” 
“What did Emily say?” Kelley pushed. 
Your shoulders lifted and fell. “To just go with it,” 
Kelley couldn’t help her frown. That had to be the worst advice known to man, and Sonnett should have known. “So you slept with her, even when you weren’t sure you wanted to?”
“I wanted to,” You said, your voice going very soft. “I just…-“
You didn’t know how to explain that you got so caught up in your head that the experience felt like every other. That it was robotic and routine and expected. 
“It felt… generic…when I did it to her. It’s not supposed to be routine when I do it to her.” 
Kelley caught your arm and pulled you to a stop. 
“Sex isn’t something you do to someone. It’s something you do with them,” She said seriously, brown eyes boring into yours like she was trying to read your mind. “It’s a mutual activity,” 
It was a terrifying prospect that you didn’t know that, and it sent red flags twirling in Kelley’s head, especially when you shrugged it off. 
“I like her, so it was supposed to feel different,” You muttered, pulling your arm out of her grasp when the crosswalk sign came on. 
It was supposed to be emotional and you were supposed to feel connected. You should have been so hyper-focused on every movement, every twitch of her body that the world faded into nonexistence. 
You shouldn’t have had to stop yourself from running through lineups in your head halfway through. You shouldn’t have felt like the only important part of the experience was the finish. 
What the fuck was wrong with you?
She sighed but followed after you as you jogged across the street. “And it didn’t?”
“Before did,” You said, keeping your eyes focused on the sidewalk in front of you. “And so did after,” 
“But the middle?” She asked. 
You shook your head, unwilling to put into words that you were too defective for it to be anything more than a quick fuck. 
Taylor deserved better, especially since the way she held you made you feel so… safe. The way she cuddled into you made you feel loved. More loved than your tongue could ever make her feel. 
“And that freaked you out?” Kelley asked, as you finally slowed your jog to a walk. 
You scratched the back of your neck, noting the annoying way your hair rubbed against the skin there. You really needed to get it cut. 
It wasn’t the connection that freaked you out, it was the prospect that you could now lose it. That you were fumbling around with no clue how to move forward, liable to fuck up something that had just started. 
You weren’t even sure if it was something. You had no clue where you stood. 
She looked at you like you weren’t a broken toy, and one misstep could prove her wrong and send her running. 
“I don’t know how to do this. It’s why I avoided sleeping with her in the first place. I was doing the friend thing well, and now… I have no idea what’s next,” You murmured, barely above a whisper. So quietly that you weren’t sure if Kelley heard you until her hand found your arm and gently pulled you to a stop yet again. 
“I think we can agree that Emily’s advice wasn’t great,” She started, making eye contact with you, and squeezing your arm gently. “I think what you should focus on are the things you do like to do with this girl. Do those take slow steps, and communicate with her. It’s a relationship, not a race,” 
“Slow steps,” You repeated, turning the words over in your mind. 
“Yes, and communication about what you like or don’t like and what you want or don’t want. Figuring out if you’re friends or more than friends would be a good place to start too,” The defender reiterated with a nod, emphasizing the back half of her sentence. 
She knew how much of a people pleaser you were, and how often you set aside your own feelings to make other people happy. If it happened with simple things like you refusing to stop Emily, Rose, and Lindsey’s teasing when it became too much because they were “still having fun” then she feared what other things you were willing to let go. 
You swallowed hard and matched her nod. 
You could do slow steps. 
You ran a hand through your sweaty hair, glancing around you. At least your slight crisis had landed you in Mulberry Street. 
“Do you wanna grab a snack before I head back? I told her I would bring her something for lunch after team recovery,” You asked, gesturing towards one of the many Italian restaurants surrounding you. 
Kelley raised an eyebrow at you. “You told this girl that you had training the day after a game and she believed you?” 
“I don’t think she knows that much about footy,” You shrugged. “She’s more of an American football fan,” 
Even if Taylor had played when she was young, you knew her knowledge was pretty limited. 
Kelley cracked a smile at you and nodded toward the restaurant you had pointed out. “As long as she’s not an Eagles fan, we’ll be fine then,”
You made a low sound of agreement knowing Kelley wasn’t as serious about Football teams as she was about premier league teams. Her main concern was that you were treated well after all anyway. 
OoOoOoO
You had calmed down significantly by the time you made it back to Taylor’s apartment, but Kelley had always had that effect on you. 
She had been the one who helped you breathe before your first cap (along with Alex, though you hated talking about it). She was the one who talked you down after you tore your Achilles during the World Cup. 
She always knew exactly what to say, and this was no different. She made you laugh and slipped in little pieces of advice without forcing you to ruminate on the situation. She made you believe that you could talk to Taylor and it would work. 
And as you sat across from Taylor while she snacked on the penne à la vodka you had picked up for her, your confidence didn’t waver. 
Kelley swore it would only take 5 seconds of bravery. 
“Are we dating now?”
Taylor paused, chewing her bite and swallowing as a perfect eyebrow arched in amusement. “Do you want us to be dating?”
You frowned, you hadn’t been expecting a question back. You thought it would be just a simple yes or no. 
“I think so,” You said slowly, meeting her eyes.  “I don’t know how to date,”
Her head cocked to the side. “You’ve never dated?” 
“Not really,” You shook your head, scratching the newly shortened hair at the back of your neck. “Besides a weird situationship, it’s all been one-nighters, so I’m not sure how any of this is supposed to work,” 
Taylor put her fork down, and she leaned a little closer to you, frowning. “Hold on, your realest relationship was a situationship?” 
“Yes,” You said sheepishly, your fingers digging more harshly into the back of your neck as you felt heat crawl up your cheeks all the way to your ears. 
“Why?”
It was asked with a giggle, but it didn’t rub you the wrong way. Taylor wasn’t making fun of you. 
You cleared your throat, eyes flickering away from her and back. “She was straight, and one of my friends,” 
It was a hard thing to admit, that you had fallen into a friends-with-benefits relationship with one of your closest friends, and that you hadn’t been able to keep your feelings locked away in a little box. You let things go too far. You let yourself believe that your favorite striker would leave her perfect boyfriend. 
You let yourself believe that she would return your feelings and pick you. 
She didn’t, and you had sworn off relationships after that. 
Why would you get involved when everyone always left?
“We were under a lot of pressure in the U20s and it was a good way to blow off steam,” You continued, your voice going soft. “Things just… went too far and ended messily,”
“Situationships usually do,” Taylor said gently, reaching across the island to place a careful hand on your arm. 
“We stayed friends though. We had to, because of the team” You murmured. “Eventually I just got over it,” 
Taylor hummed, her thumb lingering on a thick scar on the inside of your elbow. 
It seemed to her that a lot of your stories ended with you just getting over things. She wondered if you ever actually processed them, or if you just enjoyed pretending it never happened. 
“And now we link up really well,” You finished with a shrug, an easy smile returning to your features. “Anyway, back to the question. Are we dating?” 
Taylor felt her lips tilt up in return. “Again I’ll ask, do you want to be?”
“We’re going in circles,” You sighed, dragging your hand from the back of your neck up through your newly trimmed curls, thankful Kelley had stopped with you to get it cut on the way back to Taylor’s apartment. 
Taylor rolled her eyes. “Just answer the question,” 
Your nose scrunched. Had you not just explained that you didn’t know how to date? You didn’t even know what it entailed. 
How would things change? What would she expect? 
But she was looking at you with so much softness, so much… understanding. It made something tug in your chest. 
If you were going to try dating anyone, you wanted it to be her. 
“Yes,” You breathed out, fighting to keep your voice even and steady. 
“Then we’re dating,” Taylor shrugged, picking up her fork. “Easy,” 
“Easy,” You mimicked, trying to ignore Emily’s voice ringing in your head. 
It didn’t have to be complicated. 
438 notes · View notes
viennakarma · 7 months
Text
New Year, New Us
Max Verstappen x Reader
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Summary: After you and Max broke up, you've never been on the same place at the same time again. That is, until the New Year's Eve party.
Word count: 4.3k
Tags: Smut, female reader, +18, sex (p in v), unprotected sex, ex!reader, a little possessive reader, spanking, cursing (but in a cool way), a bit of dirty talking, pet names, not beta read
Note: not me looking for a GIF that he's not wearing the team kit (there is none). This has been on my docs for a little while. English is not my first language (so please bear any mistake). If you’re my best friend, sophia, look away :)
Find me on Twitter!
“Are you sure he won’t be there?”, you text Alex, your best friend.
While waiting for her answer, you look at yourself in the mirror, checking your makeup, basic due to lack of time, but beautiful nonetheless and the red lipstick gives the whole look a boost. On your body, you wear a set of a mini skirt, and a kind of strapless corset that holds your breasts firmly, giving your look an extra spice. When you went shopping with Alex the day before, she had confirmed that it suited the casual New Year's Eve party the group of friends throws every year.
“Charles confirmed that Max is not in town.” is the response you get from Alex as you wait for the Uber.
It would be really embarrassing if Max was there, because he's the ex you don't want to see under any circumstances. Your separation was difficult, and it almost caused a split in the entire group of friends. Luckily, Max went away for the Formula 1 season, and it wasn't necessary for his friends to choose a side, as he was the one who physically distanced himself from everyone.
Despite everything, he still meets up with friends from the group the few times he's in Monaco in between races, and these outings are the ones you refrain from going to so as not to cross paths with him.
Even though your relationship has collapsed like a house of cards, you and him do your best not to take anything out on your group of friends, you don't talk bad about each other nor impose any “either him or me” choices.
As soon as you arrive at the party, you realize that the “New Year's Eve party with friends” has probably taken on greater proportions. That's what happens when the majority of the group is made up of famous extroverts who make friends so easily. Charles had guaranteed that there would be 30 people at most, but when you enter his apartment, it seems to be at least triple that number.
You look for Alex and your closest group and find them near the small bar, getting drinks. Alex waves as soon as she sees you walking towards them.
She hands you a martini as soon as you catch up to her. Alex hugs you, complimenting your makeup, and you turn to Charles, hugging him, as well as all your other friends. You all toasted together, laughing.
Alex pulls you onto the dance floor, and you both laugh as a Rihanna song comes on. Both of you dance for several minutes until you feel a bit of sweat form on your forehead.
“Shit,” Alex murmurs, immediately stopping dancing. She looks over your shoulder at something behind you.
As soon as you look back, you see Max entering the party carrying a big box of some alcoholic beverage. It's impossible to go unnoticed when he's one of the most famous there. You watch as he smiles when he sees Charles in the crowd, as soon as the two meet, they exchange a friendly hug.
“Sorry, babe. Charles had indeed confirmed that he would not arrive from his trip in time for the party,” Alex justifies herself, but you keep looking in Max's direction. He's talking to Charles when, suddenly, he turns and looks in his direction. His blue eyes bore into yours and you swallow hard. You calculate an escape route for a few seconds, but he looks away and goes back to chatting calmly with Charles.
Alex pulls you away, but you keep looking in Max's direction until she shoves you into another room, which you recognize as the kitchen.
“We can leave if you want, we can find a nightclub or something,” Alex says, capturing your attention again.
“Alex, I'm not going to keep you away from your boyfriend on New Year's Eve just because I can't stand my ex,” You shake your head no. “Besides, if he's so comfortable, I'm not the one who's going to act like I’m not over him.”
“Oh, wow! Girl power, damn it!” Alex yells, opening a cooler on the counter. She pulls out two beers and hands one to you. With a bite of the cap, you quickly open it and after toasting your bottles, you take a giant sip that refreshes you from the heat and makes you more determined.
“That's more like it, now let's get back to the dance floor!” You confirm, with a nod after downing the entire bottle at once. Alex does the same and grabs two more bottles for you and her.
Together, you both return to the dance floor, you and Alex dancing and jumping, screaming the songs at the top of your lungs, as if there was no one else around. When Beyoncé's 6 Inch starts, you two start to dance sensually and sing along. With the song halfway through, you open your eyes feeling other people watching you and notice that they have opened a small circle around the two of you.
The attention only seems to make both Alex and you even more excited. Unintentionally, your eyes meet Max's, and you notice that he, Charles, and practically the rest of the party have their eyes on both of you. You grab Alex's shoulders and pull her close until one of your legs is between hers and one of hers is between yours, her hand goes to your waist, and she smiles as she guides her hips into yours and you both roll your hips.
“I know what you're doing…” Alex whispers in your ear. “He's going to regret ever breaking up with you!” She adds in a conspiratorial tone that makes you laugh
You mumble the lyrics to her and Alex pulls your hand, making you spin so that you stop with your back on her chest, placing you facing Max. You don't find any trace of shame in yourself, maybe whether it's the alcohol and the music, or maybe it's all these people staring at you and Alex with so much lust.
You look into Max's eyes as you dance with Alex's hand running down the side of your hip. His eyes are focused on you as he holds a cup of some drink. At some point, his hand exerts so much force on the cup that the plastic bends, spilling a bunch of drink onto his shirt.
You can't help but laugh when he looks down and mutters a swear word. He turns around and leaves. You continue dancing with Alex for a few more minutes until your feet feel sore and you’re very thirsty. When you sit at your friends' table, Charles serves you fresh cold juice. Max appears soon after, now with his shirt changed.
He sits at the same table as you, of course, because he is part of the group. Max sits on the opposite side of it, facing you. You look away from him when you realize your friends are talking and you decide to join the conversation.
“What happened?” Alex asks when she sees you readjusting the threads on your heels for the third time.
“My heels are killing me” you explain.
“I can lend you a pair of shoes. Do you want it?” Alex offers and you nod, “My stuff is in the guest suite on the first floor, where Charles always keeps our bags. You can take it if you want.”
“Thanks! You’re a lifesaver!”
You get up, crossing the crowd of people drinking, dancing and talking, to get to the stairs. As soon as you go up and reach the first floor, you take off your shoes and walk barefoot to the guest room, feeling relief in the bottom of your feet.
You find Alex’s bag on a dresser, and you rummage through it until you find a pair of white Jordans. You go into the bathroom and wash your face carefully so as not to mess up your makeup, and wet your neck to relieve the heat. After drying off, you go back to the dresser and you’re about to put on the shoes when the door opens and someone turns on the light.
You look up to see Max coming towards you with decisive steps, looking like a man on a mission.
“What are you doing here?” you murmur when he stops in front of you and his height forces you to lift your head to look into his eyes.
“You know what you do to me,” He whispers, his hand touches your face firmly, his hand holding your jaw and part of your neck “You know what I want.”
As soon as he says that, your body betrays you and you feel a wave of goosebumps running up your arms. Still, even with the clear expression of desire on Max's face, he doesn't move forward, just waits for your reaction.
You would be lying if you didn't admit to yourself that you miss him. Almost everyday, you miss the domesticity of your relationship, you miss his eyes looking for yours across any room or being the first thing you see as you wake up, you miss his touch both when it’s rough or when it’s exploratory like he wanted his fingertips to memorize you, his nimble hands and his cock stretching you.
You stand on your tiptoes to close the distance, and it's still not enough to reach him, so you grab the collar of his shirt and pull him down until your lips meet. He kisses you tentatively for a few seconds, and then his arm wraps around your waist and he lifts you off the ground, pressing you against his body while opening his lips to yours to deepen the kiss. When his tongue meets yours, you let out a moan that he captures with his mouth.
Your fingers move up from his shoulder to the back of his neck and you pull his hair hard, thinking it should always be like this. That you both belong in each other's arms.
Then you remember he was the one who ended it. He was the one who dumped you right after going on the new season of Formula 1. Probably to be free to fuck some groupie or something.
You move until he puts you back on the ground, and as soon as you find your balance, you push him so hard that he stumbles back two steps, surprised by your sudden refusal.
The both of you are panting as you sit on the edge of the bed, running your hands through your hair as you try to find your sanity again.
“You did this to us” you manage to say through heavy breathing, “You broke up with me to go on new adventures, and you still have the audacity to talk about me as if I had broken your heart”
“Love…” He starts, the pet name probably a slip out of habit, but that makes you even more furious.
“Don’t fucking ‘love’ me!” you point an accusatory finger in his direction.
Max stands like a statue, panting and his lips are red and a little stained with your lipstick, and his chest is rising and falling. You stare at him not knowing what to do now. Then you look at his face, his eyes closed as if he was trying hard to think, his hair even more messy because of your hands seconds ago. Max takes a deep breath, then he takes a step towards you, and kneels right in front of you.
“I'm sorry. I am so sorry. I should never have done that, I love you and I miss you every fucking day,” He looks up at you, his blue eyes shining in surrender, in a way that leaves you weak. “I'll do anything to win you back,” He says, placing both hands gently on your knees. Max looks at you intently as he gently runs his hand down your leg, until he closes his hand around your ankle. He slowly lifts your leg, as if expecting a negative reaction, and then leaves a kiss on your calf without taking his eyes off you. “Please- I- let me win you back- I’ll do anything you want- Let me be good to you…”
The sigh that leaves your lips is almost involuntary when he kisses a little higher on your calf, and then another one above your knee, followed by a soft bite. You almost let yourself get carried away by the effect of his mouth on you, but then you remember to regain control of the situation.
“With how many people did you have sex with after me?” you ask, and he immediately stops moving to look at you.
“None.” He answers, and you bend forward to hold the back of his neck and you pull his hair hard until he lifts his head with a groan.
“Don't lie to me, it's been eight months, Max. Are you going to tell me you haven’t had sex with anyone?” you ask through gritted teeth, without letting go of his hair. He stares at you firmly when he answers again.
“No one.”
“You swear?” you ask, finally loosening your grip on his hair.
“I swear,” He kisses and nibbles your legs again, as if he doesn't want to leave any part of you untasted. “I- I just- fucked my hand thinking about you.” He whispers against your thigh and you almost don't hear him, he says it so quietly.
He continues moving up, and you gasp as he kisses the space at your waist between the base of your corset and the waistband of your skirt. Each touch seems to send a jolt of pleasure straight into your core, and you do your best not to give in too quickly. You hold Max's face and make him look at you again.
“You have half an hour. Better fuck me hard” you command, and he swallows hard, nodding his head.
You finally let yourself fall back onto the bed as he kisses your body again. He tries to lift the corset, but the fabric is too tight. Then Max pulls the corset down in one motion, just enough to release your breasts from above. As soon as your tits spill out, Max grabs them like he's starving.
You can no longer contain your moans when his hands hold your hips, trying to reach under your skirt and his mouth alternates between licking from the base of your breasts to the tip of your nipples, and taking in as much as he can put in his mouth to suck at once. And you know with how hard he's doing it, you're going to have hickey marks all over tomorrow.
“How does this come out?” He asks, looking like he’s having difficulties with the corset.
“From behind.”
Max leaves your breasts to kiss your neck for a moment and you feel one of his hands reaching between your back and the mattress to try to open it. With an irritated growl, he palms your back. You squeal when, with a quick movement, he pulls your back, rolling you around and turning you face down on the bed. He makes a sound of approval when he finally undoes the corset, takes it off you, and tosses it away. He pulls the zipper on the back of your skirt, but it catches halfway, so he pulls hard and you hear the ripping sound until you feel the fabric loosen on your skin. With a sound of disapproval, you're about to curse Max’s entire lineage, when he cuts you off:
“I'll buy you another one. I’ll buy you whatever you want.” He gasps and soon you feel his hands touching your back and going down until they palm each side of your ass. He squeezes hard and you groan against the mattress, probably making a mess on the bedsheets with your lipstick. “I missed this,” He says, and then he gives your ass a slap that leaves you weak, then another slap on the other side, which makes your pussy throb. He gently massages where he hit on your asscheeks.
“Are you going to stand there admiring or are you going to ‘win me back’?” you say in a sarcastic voice when you look over your shoulder and Max is kneeling between your legs, staring at your ass like it's the Eighth Wonder of the Modern World.
“You're very bossy, you know that?” He says with a soft smile. He pulls your panties down to your knees.
“And you are complaining too much for someone who is on probation,” you keep looking over your shoulder and see how he takes his middle and ring fingers into his mouth, sucking on them to moisten.
“Probation, eh?” He says, getting closer to you.
“Yeah, or do you think you can get back this easily into my life?” You scoff.
You stop looking when his hand disappears between your legs, and you feel his touch gently on your pussy. You grip the sheet expectantly, as he presses your clit and you moan against the sheets again. When his fingers penetrate you, you start to move your hips, following the friction of his long fingers.
Max knows your body like no one else, the bastard, and you feel embarrassingly close to orgasm in just a few minutes of stimulation. You hear the indecent noise of how wet your pussy makes his fingers every time he moves them in and out, massaging your G-spot with infuriating precision. When your pussy clenches against his fingers, you try to do something, anything, to delay the orgasm.
Without stopping his movements, Max bends over you, kissing the back of your neck, then he approaches your ear and whispers:
“I’ve got you, pretty baby”
You want to curse him for the power of this pet name in your ear but your mind simply explodes into a thousand fireworks when you finally come, still leaning over feeling Max's lips on the back of your neck. He keeps his fingers in you for a few seconds as you try to recover from the orgasm.
When Max moves away and you feel his weight leave the bed, you roll over so your back is to the mattress so you can see him. He gets rid of his clothes very quickly, and your mouth is practically watering seeing him completely naked.
“Are you sure?” Max asks, fisting his member before going back to bed.
“So sure, baby” you say, with one finger raised, you make a “come here” gesture. He starts to climb onto the bed, “And as I’m feeling merciful today, I will ride you just the way you love” As soon as Max is hovering over you, you push him until he falls back onto the bed, rolling over him and getting on top.
Moving your hair out of the way, you crawl down until you’re between his legs, holding the base of his perfect cock. You lick him from bottom to top, from his balls to his cockhead and his hips jerk with the contact.
“Love, please” He interrupts you, grabbing your face and pulling you on top of him. “If you blow me, I'll cross the finish line too soon.”
“Now, this is the first time this is a problem for you,” you tease him, letting a bead of saliva drop onto his cock which makes his little giggle turn into a groan.
“Baby, please, I need to be buried into you”
With a laugh, you do as he asks, and sit on his lap, pressing his length between the two of us and sliding your pussy over him, your wetness indecent.
“You're trying to kill me, woman,” He says in a tense voice. You watch the head of his cock disappear between your lower lips as you grind against him and more groans leave his throat.
You lift your hips enough to hold his cock and position it at your entrance. From top to bottom, you slide his length inside you slowly, and it takes some time for you to be able to fit him inside you completely. His girth is something above average, and the eight months since your breakup that you've been in a drought require you a minute to readapt to his size.
You let out a moan when you finally bring your hips together and feel overwhelmed by his size. You place both hands on Max's chest for balance and dig your nails into his pale skin. You lift your hips just a few inches and sit back down, the friction making you both moan so loudly that for a moment you worry you might be heard. Then you remember that the party is in full swing downstairs, and the music is loud enough that you don't need to worry.
Max's two hands hold your ass and you start to move with more rhythm, going very high before coming back down with everything, pushing his cock inside you. His lips are parted and you bend down to kiss his chin and neck.
“You are mine,” Something possessive inside you makes you say that. Max looks at you completely surrendered. “Do you understand?” He nods. You leave a hickey on his shoulder that makes him contract deliciously inside you and mark him as yours. You increase the speed of the rise and fall of your hips, your moans matching his.
Max gives up his control fully and just lets you ride him the way you want, his moans getting louder and louder by the second. He stretches you so well that your toes curl, and Max presses his hand on your lower belly, the pressure makes you feel something completely different as your eyes roll back in pleasure.
Your knees weaken and Max takes the opportunity to reverse your positions again, placing you on your back on the bed as if he were impatient. Without disconnecting your bodies, he reaches for a pillow and places it under your hips to lift you a bit in the new position. He put your thighs over his where he is kneeling between your legs. Max pushes into you slowly, going deeper and deeper with each thrust. Your head drops back when he goes all the way in, his hips meeting yours until there is no space in between.
“Max! Oh fuck- oh-” you practically scream, pinching your own nipples to find some relief, “Oh my God!
In the new position he presses deep into your G-spot and you know you won't last much longer. His hands hold your hips even tighter and he lifts practically half of your body off the bed to thrust into you hard enough to make your head bounce on the bed.
There's nothing you can do but surrender to the pleasure that's building inside you with the way Max manipulates your body, holding onto his forearms for dear life, probably leaving some nail marks behind.
Max puts you back on the pillow, one hand he flattens on your stomach to keep you in place, and the other he presses his thumb to your clit. From then on, it's a lost cause. It's a matter of minutes before the orgasm that has been building for the second time erupts.
Your brain blackouts for a second as he pushes you off the cliff, and your hip shakes so hard that you thank God you're underneath, otherwise you would have fallen. Your pussy spasms also make Max cum soon after. Panting, he pulls out and falls on top of you, his head against your chest.
You lay like that trying to catch your breath for long minutes without saying anything, one of Max's hands running up and down your side and your fingers playing with his hair.
You still haven't said anything when you get up and go to the bathroom to clean up. When you’re putting on your panties, you remember Max destroyed your miniskirt. You gather the fabric from the floor and fold it.
“I'm sorry about the skirt,” Max finally breaks the silence, giving you the button-down shirt he was wearing earlier. As soon as you put your arms through the sleeve, Max fastens the buttons for you. you end up wearing the bustier over the shirt, like these it girls do and the final look isn't so bad. Max puts on another outfit and looks for a new shirt in a backpack that you know belongs to one of your friends.
When you’re both dressed, you leave the room still unsure of what to say. Max holds your hand, stopping you from walking any further.
“How are we now? Will you give you another chance?” he asks, sounding anxious. You realize you haven't given him a complete answer yet, which is why he seems uncertain like this. You rise on tiptoe, and bring your lips closer, holding his neck.
“I said you're mine, didn't I?” you whisper against his lips. You leave a quick peck on his lips and pull away.
But this time he doesn't let go of your hand, he just keeps holding on, tightly as you walk down the stairs back to the party, just in time for the countdown to New Year's Eve.
When you arrive at your friends' table, they start shouting and applauding when they see that you are holding hands.
“You guys are back together?” Alex asks, hugging Charles, over the voices of people counting down from 20.
“Max is on probation, if he behaves, we'll get back together,” you say with a playful tone and everyone laughs.
Max wraps his arms around your waist and you two join the countdown.
5, 4, 3, 2… 1!
“Happy New Year, Max!” you shout, over the voices of everyone celebrating the new year. He holds your face with both hands and looks at you as if you were his entire world, his blue eyes shining with deep feeling.
“I love you,” He whispers in your ear, before pulling you to sit on his lap and placing a kiss on your lips. He clings to you like he is afraid if he let you go, you will leave again.
"I love you too, pretty baby," you whispered back, laughing as his face went red.
749 notes · View notes
ziggyzolch · 1 month
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Queen Bee-atch III (Regina George x reader)
These chapters have been up on ao3 and wattpad but I figured i'd put them here as well.
Warnings: Cursing, use of F-slur but its kind of stupid so dont worry
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✮✮✮
“You look like hell.” It was Thursday and Janis had invited you over. “Thanks,” you mumble out while pushing past her into her house. You could navigate her house blind, it's basically your second home now. You go into her room and flop straight into her bed. “You still having trouble sleeping?” Janis asks while plopping down onto the floor. She was surrounded by music sheets and crumpled up paper, her guitar on the ground next to her. You sluggishly sit up and look at her, “Yeah, I just can’t stop thinking.” “About what?” “Nothing, I don’t know,” You push the palms of your hands against your eyes.
You and Janis have weekly jam sessions. Chilling with your best friend and learning new songs to play together was your favorite pastime. Damien joins occasionally and sings along since you and Janis can’t sing for shit. At least you think so.
“Let’s just find a song then you can nap on my bed or something.” Janis proposes. Getting up, you pick up the acoustic guitar at the corner of the room and make your way to where she was seated. This week was your turn to pick a song.
“You’ll love this song. I discovered it recently and-”
“It’s Alex G again, isn't it? The chords he uses are so weird!”
“Yeah but-”
“Please tell me you have another song.”
You sigh, “I really thought you’d agree to that one. Let’s just play ‘Where is Your Mind’ or something.”
Janis is tuning her guitar when you get a text from your mother.
-We’re going shopping. I expect you to be at the mall in 20 minutes.-
You groan and lay your whole body onto the ground. “I know I’m already here but can I get a raincheck on the session? My mom is dragging me to go shopping” You sigh while getting up. “Yeah, no worries.” Janis replies, unbothered. God you really needed to sleep.
✮✮✮
“Seriously, mother?” Your mom was holding up a pink shirt with ‘baby gurlz’ plastered on the front. She had dragged you to the mall to upgrade your wardrobe. You needed new clothes because, according to your mother, you looked like an ‘emo beggar’. Your mother rolls her eyes “You dress like a hobo that lives at Hot Topic, baby. No offense.” It’s been 3 hours since you came in and you hadn’t found anything you liked. You take the shirt out of her hands and place it back on the rack.
“Can we just go home? I have an English test tomorrow and I haven’t started studying.” The lie comes out easily. In reality, you just wanted to nap. It’s been 3 days and you’ve gotten a total of 2 hours of sleep. A sigh comes out of your mothers mouth, “You know what, go sit in the car, you’re wearing whatever I buy you. Your outfit is going to be on your desk tomorrow morning.” She could buy you a dinosaur onesie and you wouldn’t care, you just wanted to nap.
✮✮✮
Unsurprisingly, the nap plan didn’t work out. You passed out eventually though, an hour before school, but at least it was something. You were now at your locker, clad in a white crop-top and baby blue skirt that was way too short. You hadn’t actually realized what your mother had picked out until a wide-eyed Damien grabbed your shoulder and dragged you to the bathroom. “Girl, what are you wearing? Also, did you lose weight?” You look at Damien confused, until you turn to the mirror. “Oh what the f-”
“Damien? What poor girl did you drag- the fuck?” Janis looks at you in shock, Cady standing behind her, while you stare back equally mortified. “You look like a pastel emo, dude.” Janis says while walking up to you and spinning you around. You stomp your foot. “Stop! I already feel bad enough.” You whine while pushing Janis off you and turning back to the mirror. Damien walks up behind you and stops your hands that were pulling at your shirt. “Girl you got bod, and those clothes lowkey look good on you.” Your eye roll is interrupted by the bell ringing. Shit.
Your thoughts start going crazy as you’re walking to English class. God they can see my legs! They probably know you don’t usually wear skirts. They’re probably all like: ‘look at her. You know she usually doesn’t wear skirts?’
Before you know it, you're sitting at your desk in English class, looking at your notebook. When did you get here? Huh, time flies when you’re having fun. You’re giggling at your own joke when you hear someone clearing their throat next to you. Regina?
“Did you hear anything I just said? Are you even actually physically present? It’s like I’m talking to a wall.” Regina raises an eyebrow waiting for a response. “Oh uh, hi.” You mumble out pathetically. She lets out a mocking ‘hi’ before continuing, “Anyways, I’ll pick you up after school for our project.” Project? What? You look up at the board and finally notice the list of instructions written down for a book report you had to do, with details of the partners the teacher had assigned. How much of the class had passed? Your question is answered when the bell signaling the end of the period rings.
You stand up too fast and start swaying before Regina gets up and holds you by your waist to steady you. “Woah there, slow down babe,” She pauses and looks you up and down. She bends down slightly to stare directly into your eyes and taps your cheek, “Cute outfit. See you after school.”
She packs her things and walks past you into the hallway.
You really need to sleep.
✮✮✮
It's like the bottom of your skirt was a mountain climber the way it kept hiking up with every step you took. At least it's almost the end of the day. One more period and you'd be on your way home. You were dragging your feet across the hall when you felt a slap on your ass. You turn around to see one of the jocks ,that you couldn't for the life of you remember the name of, smirking down at you.
Curse him out! Why are you just standing there? Your mouth flops open and closed like a fish, trying to come up with a devastating insult.
"F-Faggot."
...What the fuck? Your eyes widened. Before you could properly process what you said, you were pushed up against a locker with the jock impossibly close to you. "Say that again, slut." He grits his teeth, pushing you further into the locker. You're suddenly released and a very angry Regina was holding him by his shirt collar. "Apologize to her." You'd hate to be on the receiving end of the glare she's giving him. He scoffs, "You've gotten soft, Regina. Anyways, I was just giving her a compliment!" Regina's eyes somehow harden even more. "If the next words that come out of your mouth aren't an apology, Shane. I swear to god." His confidence falters and he eventually mumbles out an apology. "Walk away, and take your micro-penis with you."
Regina hears a giggle from below her and her eyes soften as she sees you on the floor. She helps you up and adjusts your clothes.
"You okay?"
"Yeah, it's whatever."
She stares at you for a second.
"Take out your phone."
"What? Why-"
She pulls your phone out of your hand.
"I'm putting in my number, idiot."
What?
"For the project? I'm picking you up after school, remember?"
"Oh yeah. Pfft. Totally."
Giving your phone back and rolling her eyes, she turns away and leaves. From the corner of your eye you catch Janis and Damien stomping over. "Dude, why were you talking to Regina? Also our plan is working, Caddy's growing on them." You look at Janis, confused before she continues, "You need to sleep dude. Whatever we have health together let's find Caddy and get to class." Damien puts his arm around you and you all start walking. "What were you talking about with Regina, by the way?" He questions while adjusting his arm around you, "We got paired up for a project. A book report or something." You avoid bringing up the fact that you got harassed.
You love Janis and Damien, truly, but they tend to be a little overprotective. "Hah! What a nightmare!" Janis laughs. You look down at the floor, your face turning slightly red, mumbling, "She isn't that bad." The conversation dies out as you approach the classroom, Cady greeting you at the door. "Hey! So, Aaron invited me to this Halloween party..." Cady's voice fades as you sit down and put your head down onto your desk.
✮✮✮
"Nice room, Blondie." You say, going further into Regina's room. She had been waiting for you outside the school in her convertible, making it impossible for you to get out of spending time with her. Despite her recent tolerability, you couldn't forget how she used to treat you.
Regina smiles, "Thanks, Y/N. It was my mom's but I made her trade it."
"Woah. 'Y/N'? Are you going soft on me, Blondie?"
"Shut up."
You walk around her room and spot a couple of vinyls. Green day? My Chemical Romance? The Yeah Yeah Yeahs? The Strokes! What!
"Blondie, you have taste?"
Regina flips around and stomps towards you, taking the 'Stereophonics' vinyl out of your hands. "Stop going through my shit, Gerard." Back to square one.
She watches you adjust your skirt and pull at your shirt uncomfortably. Walking into her closet, she finds a pair of shorts and a loose t-shirt she hadn't worn in years. You were awkwardly standing in the middle of her room before you felt a bunch of clothes hit your face.
The shock passes and you smile at her gratefully while she rolls her eyes and takes a seat at her desk. Should you go to her bathroom? Whatever, she's already seen you shirtless. Her face turns red while she pretends not to notice you changing in front of her. You finish up and take out your laptop, taking a seat on the floor. She swivels her chair to face you, "So, what book were you thinking?" You look up at her, slightly shocked. You didn't think she'd give you a choice.
"Oh. Uh. The Bell Jar?"
"Too bleak."
"It ends nicely though!"
"No! Pick something else."
"Okay, uh, My Year of Rest and Relaxation?" You propose with an eyebrow raised.
She glares at you.
"Are all the books you read just about mentally ill women?"
You sigh, "Pretty much. Oh! What about Matilda!"
She opens her mouth to argue, then pauses for a moment.
"Actually that doesn't sound too bad. Matilda it is."
✮✮✮
An hour passed before Regina looked up from her report and found you curled up on her floor, your laptop discarded to the side. After putting away your laptop, she approaches you and stares down at you. Hands on her hips, she looks around before letting out a breath and picking you up. "Gina?" You mumble out.
She shushes you and places you on her bed. "No. No, it's fine. I have to finish the report." Attempting to sit up, you whine when she pushes you back onto her bed. "We have a week till it's due. Rest." She leaves no room to argue as she tucks you in. "No! Oh wow. Your bed is so comfortable." Your eyes start drifting close and the last thing you see is Regina placing a kiss on your head.
✮✮✮
"I mean I've been dressing up as a mouse since freshman year, why would I change now?" Karen's voice takes you out of your blissful slumber. How long have you been asleep? "You're barely even a mouse, Karen." You could hear Gretchen reply. The sun had started setting, from what you could tell. You sit up, rubbing your eyes and looking around the room. Gretchen and Karen were sitting on the floor while Cady was laying above the sheets next to you. "Hey sleepyhead!" Cady pinches your cheek and tackles you when you try to push her away. She straddles your waist and starts tickling you. "Dude!...Stop!" You say in between giggles.
"What's going on here?" Regina must've been in the bathroom, "Finally up? I was getting ready to call the funeral house, Gerard." She was wearing sweatpants and a tank top. You accidentally glance down at her chest and turn away quickly, blushing, unaware of Regina's knowing smirk. She must've changed when you wear asleep.
Cady finally stops her assault on you. "Ha. Ha" You roll your eyes, moving to get up when Cady grabs your arm and pulls you back down, "Did you wrestle a bear or something?" Looking down to see what she was talking about, you notice a huge hand shaped bruise on your shoulder. You can feel everybody's eyes on you. "Oh, I fell during PE. It's nothing" You shrug her hand away and rub your shoulder, walking towards the walk-in closet, ignoring Regina's eyes burning a hole in your back. Bending down to pick up your clothes, a bright pink book catches your attention.
"Hey. Why didn't you tell Cady about Shane- No!" Regina's eyes widen as rushes towards you and pulls the book out of your hand. It's too late, your page had been the first one you found when you opened the book. Standing up, your voice wavers, "Thank you for being so accommodating, I'll get out of your hair now." You bump your shoulder into her getting out of the closet, hurting yourself more than her.
The silence that followed after you slammed the door on your way out was loud. Regina plops down next to Karen and Gretchen, Cady following after her. Running her hands through her hair, Regina sighs and stares at her bedroom door.
"Fuck."
✮✮✮
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trashpandato · 7 months
Text
Kara
It starts innocently enough.
When Kara gets to the Tower one afternoon, she spots a large Tupperware container on the shared table in the middle of their break room. It’s full of cookies and cupcakes. But when Kara gets closer, she sees it: a large pink Post-It note that reads “Cookies are for the bake sale at Esme’s preschool. DO NOT EAT!”
Disappointed, Kara shrinks back from the container. She spends the afternoon distracted, thinking about baked treats, until Lena pulls her aside and asks her to go for a walk. The walk ends up being an excuse for Lena to buy Kara a coffee and three extra large cookies from the food truck at the edge of the park.
But then, it keeps happening.
Kara opens the communal fridge at the Tower a few days later and finds a couple of containers inside that are clearly labeled. One says “Nia’s lunch”, the other spells out that it contains an experimental energy gel that Brainy has been eating whenever he works overtime. 
Kara frowns. This is a new development. And sure, maybe she has a bit of a history of eating whatever is available, at times raiding the fridge and eating everyone’s leftovers. She can’t help that there are moments when a fight leaves her exhausted and hangry. But to think that her friends are starting to leave passive-aggressive notes on their food to keep her away? It stings a little.
Kara doesn’t confront them. Instead, she simply observes as more and more Post-It notes appear, warning her to stay out of boxes of donuts or a selection of cheeses, and even leftover noodles now have names attached to them.
It makes Kara grumpy.
It’s about two weeks later when Kara returns to the Tower after a particularly grueling fight with a Dominator. After a quick medical check, Alex tells her she’s free to go and leaves her to her own devices in the med bay.
Kara is about to slide off the bed she’s been sitting on when Lena touches her elbow to get her attention.
“You look spent. Why don’t we find you a little snack and then I’ll take you home?”
“It’s fine,” Kara grumbles. “I have food at home.”
“I know you do. But you look like you’re about to pass out. Come on.”
Before Kara can protest, Lena has pulled her into the lunch room.
“Lena, I, there’s nothing here for me.”
“What do you mean? Of course there is. It’s a fridge full of food. Look!”
Kara throws her arms up in the air and lets them fall back down. “But none of it is mine! It’s Nia’s lunch, or Kelly’s donuts, or, or, cookies that are meant for some special event.”
Kara is about to turn around and head out when Lena opens the fridge and Kara sees that it’s full to the brim with all kinds of different food. There are at least three boxes of pizza, a couple of paper bags that she knows are from her favourite Chinese restaurant, and then she spots an entire shelf of pastries. But the thing that stands out most is that each item features a bright green Post-It note and they all say “Kara”.
And maybe it’s the day’s exhaustion finally catching up with her, or maybe it’s the knowledge that Lena has made sure that all of her favourite foods are here, but when she looks back at Lena, her vision is blurry with tears.
“Thank you,” Kara manages to croak out.
“You’re welcome. Now come on. Let’s eat.”
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vivwritesfics · 4 months
Text
Everybody Wants To Rule The World
Chapter One - Criminal
Oscar Piastri worked for a criminal organisation. It wasn't the life he wanted, wasn't the life he had chosen for himself. But, like those before him, he didn't have any other choice.
He was just a rookie in the Verstappen organisation. He got stuck with the shitty jobs, like watching over Verstappens latest intake, a petty criminal who makes stealing cars look hot.
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Warnings: Mentions of drugs
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In the early hours of the morning, when the sun was painting the sky of the city pink, Alex Albon and Esteban Ocon had the biggest bag of cocaine either of them had ever seen. The two rarely delt with narcotics for their boss, but tonight he had a special job for the two of them.
Alex kept watch as Esteban, whose body was longer and thinner, worked his way beneath the car. They used the car jack to raise it slightly as Esteban got beneath and stuck the cocaine to the bottom of the car.
Who did this car belong to? Well that doesn't matter. Not for now, anyway.
Giggling, the two took off, driving back to their bosses head quarters.
In this same part of the city, a girl was running from the blue and red flashing lights. That was the problem when you steal cars, you always have to be on the lookout for the polite.
Y/N L/N happened upon this car with the cocaine stuck to the bottom of it. He had maybe a minute before the police car caught up to her. A minute to get the car open and a minute to drive away.
She got the car open easily. It was old, a classic. The owner would be sad to see it go, but that wasn't something she could afford to think about.
Pulling her hat from her head she worked about hot wiring the car and tuned the radio to her liking. Twenty five seconds until the police caught up with her.
The radio was also old, as old as the car. It was going to take her some time before she found the right station.
At least, the end of Rick Astleys 'Never Gonna Give You Up' played and Tears For Fears 'Everybody Wants to Rule The World' began. Y/N grinned as she put the car into gear and floored it, heading towards the outskirts of the city.
She had to lose the cops before she returned to her boss. If she brought the police to his door, she'd never hear the end of it. Or her blood would be spilt. There was no telling.
Y/N managed to get away from the cops. Usually they'd give up and she could drive away, unscathed. But tonight was different. Tonight they weren't giving up.
"Fucking pigs," she muttered as she turned down an alleyway, trying to conceal herself and the car. She cringed as its sides scraped against the walls of the buildings it was squashed between. At least it would be harder to identify now.
But she had fucked it. She went to turn left down the alleyway, only to find herself blocked by a wall. A fucking wall. She was done for, screwed, and in so much trouble.
The police cars pulled in behind her. They had the sense not to follow her down the alleyway and get themselves stuck. Instead, they pulled out their guns and pointed them at the girl in the car, demanding she exit the vehicle.
Y/N wound down the car window. "I can't get the door open!" She called, hoping the police heard her. "So I'm going to break the back window and climb out that way, okay?"
She hasn't a hardened criminal, not in the way that mattered. She'd never had a run in with the police before and she didn't quite know what to do. So, she did as her father had taught her and remained calm and collected. Show them you mean no harm and they won't harm you.
She waited for confirmation from the police office closest to the car before climbing into the back of the car and kicking at the back window. It was no easy task, getting the back window separated from the car. It was a few good kicked before the sheet of glass fell away, allowing her to climb from the car with her hands up.
She was cuffed, placed in the back of a police car and taken to the station while the owner of the car was contacted. They took the cocaine from the car and drove Y/N to the station.
"There's something wrong with your car," she tried to say to the police officers, able to tell from the sound alone. But they weren't having any of it. They shut her up and continued driving to the station.
At the station they placed her in the holding cell. Prostitutes and other criminals surrounded her as she sat on the bench and closed her eyes. She just stole a car, she'd be out of here in no time.
But suddenly a police officer called her name. She opened her eyes and walked over to the door of the holding cell, walking past the petty thieves and flashers.
An officer grabbed her arm and marched her over to his desk. He pushed her into a chair and cuffed her hand to the arm. "So," he began as he sat on the other side of the desk. "Where did you get the coke?"
"Coke?" Y/N asked as she tried sit forward.
The officer let out a sigh. "You know, blow, bump, nose candy, sniff, snow, white rock."
"Hey now, I don't fuck with drugs," she called, slumping back in the chair. "If there was cocaine on that car, it was there before I got to it," she said.
The officer let out another sigh. He uncuffed her from the chair and marched her back to the holding cell. He threw her in locking the door behind her. If she wasn't going to talk, she could rot in there.
But she wasn't going to rot in there. The arresting officer suddenly got a phone call that he rushed to answer. The number was withheld and he knew exactly who it was.
The voice on the other end of the phone was soft, the accent unrecognisable. The voice maybe have been soft, but the officer still did exactly what he said.
"Yes, sir," he said, listening to the person. "Right away, sir."
The person on the other end of the phone hung up and the officer stretched out his limbs. This was maybe his least favourite part of the job, having to let the criminals go because the most powerful man in the city commanded it.
The officer opened the holding cell and grabbed a hold of the girl he had just arrested. He held her arm, his grip bruising as he dragged her out of the holding cell. "Your charges have been taken care of," he grumbled as he marched her out out the precinct, around to the back.
Still holding her arm, he placed two fingers in his mouth and whistled.
A black van, which had previously been inconspicuously parked in the corner of the parking lot, rumbled to life. The engine was old, clearly, but it sounded amazing. The door slid open and three men, all in pristine suits jumped out. One strode over, a black sack in his hands.
The two others circled around her, taking her from the officer. The officer said nothing and quickly rushed back inside. The two men grabbed her hands and wormed together to tie them behind her back. The bindings were tight, cutting into her skin. But she knew better then to panic.
"Sorry about this," said the third man, standing in front of her. Y/N had just about enough time to study his face, his dark eyes, the moles on his face, his round cheeks ans pillowy lips. His hair, which parted down the middle, soft and fluffy and shiny.
She shrugged her shoulders and he placed the bag over her head.
There was no point fighting them as they walked her to the van, she'd seen their guns the moment they'd jumped out of the van. The two that had tied her hands sat behind her as the pretty one, the one who had placed the bag over her head climbed into the driver's seat.
He always drove, no matter the job. It was what he loved, what he was good at, what kept him calm.
The drive wasn't very long. Or, it hadn't seemed long to the captive, who was trying her best to keep time using the songs playing on the radio. They weren't out of the city, or, they weren't very far outside of it.
"Oh, turn this one up," she said, her words muffled, and the driver did just that, twisting the knob attached to the radio to turn up the volume.
Before too long the driver killed the engine and the sliding door to the van was thrown open. Y/N was dragged to her feet, one man holding each arm, and walked forward. She had no idea where she was or where she was going. The only indicator that she had walked into a building was the stale air, the buzz of the lights overhead and the feeling of the floor beneath her feet. These were the sorts of things you had to learn to survive.
She went into a room, her feet hitting the metal threshold strip that sat between rooms, and was sat in a chair.
The bindings were pulled from her hands and the bag from her head. She blinked quickly, the light flooding into her eyes all too bright.
But then she looked around, looking at the art on the walls surrounding her, at the table in front of her, at the man on the other side of that table.
She knew who she was in an instant, her heart pounding in her chest. His hair was a dirty blonde, combed back out of his face, and the beginnings of a beard surrounded his mouth. His eyes were a little far apart, but it didn't look bad on him. No, he was a very handsome man. Dangerous and terrifying, but handsome.
"You stole from me." That was the first thing his said.
Y/N couldn't stop her eyes from going wide. Him. She wasn't supposed to steal from him. The one rule she had for this job was don't steal from him. If she had known the car belonged to him, she would have run in the other direction. But it was too late now.
"I'm impressed. Nobody has ever had the balls to steal from me before. What makes you different?" He leaned forward, resting his chin on his knuckles. "
Y/N went to push her chair back, but a hand, covered in rings, settled on her shoulder and squeezed. She didn't dare turn to see who was behind her. "I swear, I didn't know it was you're car."
"Don't you know stealing is wrong?" The man in front of her narrowed his eyes. "As soon as the car was on the move, we watched you. That was a pretty good drive, until you fucked up."
Verstappen sat up a little straighter. He sat back and waited, waited for her to say something.
Truth be told, Y/N was a little lost for words. What was he playing at? Did he know who she was?
Suddenly, Verstappen stood up. He signalled for her to stand up and the person behind her pulled her to her feet and pushed her after his boss.
They took her through the halls of a house, with the same amount of pretty art. Verstappen didn't so much as glance at the art as they walked past, and she had a feeling that it wasn't his taste. The man behind her kept his ringed hand on her shoulder as he steered her after Verstappen.
They walked her into a garage and stopped her in the doorway. "Okay," said Verstappen, gesturing to the plethora of cars in front of him. They were all gorgeous cars, better than anything Y/N had ever stolen before. Super cars, classic cars, Verstappen had them all.
"Show me what you got."
TAGLIST (OPEN): @biancathecool @graciewrote
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futfemfantasies · 7 months
Text
Unexpected meetings - Katrina Gorry x Morgan!reader
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Prompt #20 - Alex Morgan little sister (5 years younger) - dating ___. Alex finds you two making out after a national team friendly - USA vs ___. Alex ‘threatens’ ___.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
2018
The smaller body in your arms started to turn, which causes you to slowly wake from your peaceful sleep. You look into Katrina's brown eyes and melt instantly. Wordlessly, you both lean forward and envelope each others lips in a soft kiss. Katrina's small hands wandered up your sleep shirt, tracing the outline of your abs as you both continued to kiss. A loud siren like alarm blasts through the room, causing you two to jump apart before laughing.
"I told you to change that babe"
Katrina laughs as she sits up and stretches, showing off her muscular back that makes you drool.
Just as you open your mouth to speak, you hear a loud banging on the door.
"Y/N/N get your ass up! You're late to breakfast"
Your lovely older sister yells through the door.
"Okay I'll be down in 10"
"Make it 5 or I'll bench today"
You roll your eyes at the lame threat, knowing she can't actually do that.
A text is quickly sent out to the group chat of the entire team excluding your sister saying you need them to distract Alex to sneak a girl out. Thankfully, no comments were made apart from the usual Sonnett and Kelley but you choose to ignore them most of the time.
You got ready in your training gear while Katrina quickly found her Matildas clothes around the room. You walk up to Katrina and wrap your arms around her waist tightly, so she can't leave. You lightly kiss her jaw and trail down her neck. She moans slightly but realises you both need to go.
"C'mon babe, we need to go"
Katrina says trying to get out of your grip.
"Just let me hold you longer"
You mumble into her.
Your cuddle session by your phone ringing to say you have a text.
Kelley: We have Al distracted, get the girl out now!
"Right let's go baby"
You put on your slides and grab the keycard, as well as your phone before racing out the door.
In the elevator, you once again hold Katrina in your arms and sigh into her hair. Katrina turns around and kisses you quickly before the doors open. As they open, you see the meeting slash breakfast room door shut and you know this is your chance. You both walk hand in hand across the foyer and out the front entrance, letting out a breath of relief. You bid Katrina a goodbye and that you'll see her later. You watched her walk back to the hotel, which was only next door, so you know she's safe.
Short stack 💘: stop watching me you creeper...
y/n/n 🦋: just wanted to make sure you are safe baby 🥺
short stack 💘: aww, well you are forgiven. i love you 😘
y/n/n🦋: i love you more, see you later sunshine xx 🥰
Walking back into the hotel, a part of you felt gone but at least she was only next door. You look up from your phone to see your sister standing there with her arms crossed and eyebrows tightly knitted together. Kelley along with a few other of your friends were behind Alex mouthing 'im sorry' as they couldn't keep her in the room. You just hoped she didn't see who you were with.
“What were you doing that made everyone attempt to keep me in the room?”
“Nothing Al, don’t worry”
Attempting to push past her, Al grabs your wrist causing you to turn around.
“We don’t need any distractions y/n/n”
“Trust me Al, she’s far from a distraction”
You say pulling your arm away and walking into the meal room.
After breakfast you all have a few hours before leaving for the game so you decide to have a shower and attempt to relax until the game. You hear a bang on your door and you know you have to go. With your kit bag in hand, you put your headphones on and grab your phone before walking out to the bus.
The bus ride to the stadium was quiet. No one dared to come near you are they knew when you had either earphones or headphones on not to bother you. You arrived at the stadium and noticed the Australian bus just arrived as well. You look behind you slightly and locked eyes with Katrina before giving her a wink. Alex pushes you forward slightly as a silent way of telling you to hurry up and you give her a glare no one wants to receive.
After the national anthems have been sung and the coin tossed, the game was ready to begin. You stand in position, alongside your sister up front, and put your game face on. Sam Kerr kicks the ball off and now it’s game time, until the 22nd minute when your own girlfriend scores a rocket from outside the box. You hung your head in shame and walked back to position. The whole game is a cat and mouse situation with no one really getting close enough to shoot. You spot Lindsey with the ball and you weave past Emily and Alanna into an open gap and call for the ball. You move around the players and look up to see a perfect distance between you and the goal. The next thing you know the fans are cheering, drums being hit and your teammates jumping on your and smacking your head. After the next few minutes of extra time, the whistle is blown and the game ends in a one all draw.
You shake the hands of your friends in the Australian team until you get to one in particular, who you were saving for last. You wrap Katrina up in your arms and stay like that for a few minutes taking in the time you have together, even though you play for the same club team.
“You played so well out there bubs. I’m proud of you. That goal was amazing”
“I’m proud of you too speedy. Can we swap jerseys?”
You nod and start to take off your jersey.
Katrina’s jersey just fits in your tall build, while yours looks like a dress on her. You get called over by Christen and you bid your goodbyes to Katrina. You get back to the locker room and you know you’re not going to see her for a few weeks so you just need to see her one last time.
y/n/n 🦋: meet me in the hallway xx 😉
short stack 💘: 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️
You throw your tee on and slides before walking out of the dressing room to meet your ever so sexy girlfriend leaning up against the wall. Grabbing her hand and checking no one from either team followed, you both move to a more secluded area around the corner. You two wasted no time and smashed your lips on each others. Your hands going just under Katrina's jersey, resting on her hips, while hers are playing with the baby hairs on the back of your head. Just as you go to move you knee between Katrina's legs, you hear someone clear their throat. The two of you pull apart to see your sister standing there, arms crossed and a face not impressed.
"So this is who you were sneaking out this morning"
"Al listen I-"
You started but got cut off immediately.
"I can't believe you didn't tell me. I thought we told each other everything y/n/n"
"Trust me Al I wanted to tell you bu-"
"I can't be here right now. And you"
Alex directs her attention to Katrina.
"If you even think about hurting a single hair on her body, you better watch out"
Alex walks away and you want to break down in tears. Katrina pulls you in a tight hug and you start apologising for your sisters behaviour, since she's never done it to any of your exes before.
"Hey you have nothing to apologise for. You've done nothing wrong. You're okay"
You physically relax in Katrina's arms and you pull your head out of her shoulder and see Christen and Tobin walking towards you.
"Hey Kat, I'm guessing it went well with Alex then?"
Christen asks and you give her a look that Tobin laughs at.
"Well we're leaving in about 15 minutes so if you want a shower, I'd go now"
You nod and the pair walk off and you feel Katrina tug on your hand to face her.
"Everything's going to be okay. Just let her calm down and talk to her back at the hotel. I'm literally just next door okay?"
Katrina leans up to kiss your cheek ever so lightly, making you blush slightly
"I love you so much"
"I love you too but more when you're less smelly now go shower"
You both walk to your respective locker rooms when you look back and blow Katrina a kiss. Meanwhile in the locker room, you walk in and Alex comes over, hugging your side.
"I'm sorry y/n/n, I just don't wanna see you hurt"
"She's not going to hurt me, I promise. You can calm down with the protective older sister vibe too. I honestly think I'm going to marry her one day"
Alex smiles for the first time since the full time whistle was blown and pulls you into her famous bear hugs.
“I’m just happy you’re happy bug”
2023
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itsyn25: 26.05.23 ~ i asked my best friend to marry me and she said yes. i can't wait to spend forever with you my love 🥰🥺
view all 10,485 comments...
alexmorgan: OMG YAY! I just told Charlie and she hasn't stopped jumping and screaming... love and miss you all 💘
itsyn25: maybe that means you both need to visit...
kyracooneyx: yay mums are getting married 😊
christenpress: i'm so happy for you bestie xx 🥺😊
katrinagorry10: i can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you ❤️
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How about the farmer and bachelor hiding in a small place. Like they are hips and chest pressed against each other. The farmer doesn't noticed but the bachelor is going wild over the limit space between them. You can make it nsfw I don't mind! :)
This took me forever to get to I’m so sorry! Also these are mostly just lewd as opposed to like whole nsfw but Sebastian and Alex’s got full nsfw 😂
Content warnings: mostly gender neutral reader except Sebastian’s is afab reader, reader calls Sebastian daddy once, Theyer long as hell, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT PLEASE
Small spaces but big opportunities with the bachelors
Shane:
He wanted to come to the mines with you, mostly out of curiosity but also because he wanted to make sure you weren’t doing anything to dangerous
Thankfully the level that you had gone to didn’t have to many monsters on it and while he still thought that maybe it wasn’t the best place, he could see the appeal
At least until you both fell into a kinda deep very narrow pit
He landed flat on his ass and you landed unceremoniously on his lap, very much straddling him
After making sure neither of you were seriously injured you began to look around
“How on earth are we gonna get out of this? Does this happen to you often in the mines?”
Shane’s very concerned and trying very hard to ignore your chest being almost in his face
“Well no, I mean the tv said I’d have bad luck today but I didn’t think anything of it!”
Shane stares at you blankly for a moment “the tv said…okay we can unpack that later, for now we should figure this out”
He tried to shift around a bit but quickly stopped as the friction of your body rubbing against the crotch of his pants caught him off guard, thank god it’s a little dark and you can’t see the red now painting his face
He’s got his hands resting on your thighs, you try shifting around to see if you can maybe stand up but his grip tightens and you could almost swear he moaned a little bit
“You okay? You said you weren’t hurt! What hurts? Do you need a health elixir? I have extra in my bag”
“No, no sweetheart that’s not it, I’m not hurt just, fuck”
You just noticed the bulge straining against his shorts and pressing against your inner thigh
“Oh” you hadn’t noticed until now that he had gotten hard
“Fuck I’m so sorry I-“ he got cut off as you ground down against him
“Shit sweetheart, you sure you wanna start this right now?” He’s practically growling out his words with how gravely and husky his voice is currently
“Never been more sure, sir”
He has a sir kink, fight me on it
He tightens his grip on your hips to help you grind against him while he smashes his lips against yours in a very heated kiss
Harvey:
You were in the tiny medical closet at his clinic looking for some gauze he had asked you to grab for him so he could restock the drawer
It was taking a moment though so he came to check on you and ultimately the door accidentally shut behind him
It locks from the outside automatically
Harvey is now chest pressed to your back due to the confined space in the closet, hardly enough room for you to try and turn around
“Well hey there doc, whatcha need?”
“The doors locked and maru doesn’t get here for another hour, this wasn’t supposed to happen”
He’s trying not to focus on how warm you feel pressed against him, how perfectly your body fits against his, and how the sudden proximity has his dick stirring in his pants
You’re squinting to see in the dark closet and all but have to stand on your tippy toes to read if the label in front of you reads gauze
“Just as well because this feels like a lost cause, how do you find anything in here?”
Your ass brushes against the growing bulge in his pants and he has to stifle a groan at the contact
“We can find it later, just stay still please”
He’s sounds strained, and then you can feel it pressing into your back
“Harvey, are you hard right now?”
This mans spilling apologies from his lips so quickly
“I’m so sorry this was never meant to happen your just very pretty and being stuck in the little closet with you isn’t helping and-“
You cut him off by bringing a hand around your back and gently grabbing his bulge
“I don’t mind, gives us something to do in the meantime” you would wink at him but you arnt facing him and the rooms dark
“I- are you sure? I want this but I need to know you want this as well”
You’ve been pining after the doctor for like a year and a bit at this point so of-course you want this
“Yes I want this Harvey, touch me, please”
How could he say no when you ask so politely
Sam:
Not so much trapped in a closet together as it is playing seven minutes in heaven at a party Abigale was throwing
You picked his name out of a hat and then got promptly shoved into a very small closet with him
Chest to chest, Harley enough space to breath without feeling his heart beat against you
“We uh, we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to”
He’s always considerate of your comfort
“Time starts now! Have fun~” you could hear Abigail’s voice fading away as she walked back down the hallway
“Sooooooooooo, think there’s a light in here orrrrr we just gonna make out in the dark?”
You meant to ease the tension with a little joke but god do you wanna kiss him
He’s taking the dive, hands on either side of your face as he presses his lips to yours
With only a little struggle in the confined space you managed to wrap your arms around his neck
Soon he’s trailing kisses down your neck, leaving little bites here and there just so he can hear the way you try not to whine
Your hands down the front of his jeans slowly stroking him
“Fuck sweetheart, wish we had more time. Wanna take this to your place?”
Yes you do in-fact want to take this to your place
Which is just as well because Abigale is knocking on the closet door to tell you your times up and that you both better have pants on
Elliott:
Had he meant to be stuck in a small crevice in the forest with the farmer directly underneath him? No
But his little outings don’t seem to want to go to plan these days
He does however, appreciate the view of you, underneath him red faced as he tries to find a way to get up that doesn’t involve accidentally standing on you
“Must be exhausting holding yourself up like that, you can lay down I don’t mind a human weighted blanket”
God your adorable
Only lets some of his weight rest on you
“Well, this isn’t the best circumstances but even so you still look absolutely ravishing”
Meant that to be an inside thought but alas, it became an outward thought. He wishes lightning would strike him if that didn’t mean you would also be in harms way
“Well your not half bad yourself handsome, lemme just”
You gently pull his hair back into a ponytail with a hair elastic you keep on your wrist for him
That’s all he needs to lose composure, soon enough y’all are making out in the crevice
Wondering hands and gentle nips across your neck are enough to get small gasps out of you
God you sound amazing he thinks
But he’s not about to bed you in a hole in the ground, he’s more romantic then that
But the moment y’all get out and head back to his beach shack?
Soft gasps turn to moans, hushed whispers turn to loving praises, wondering hands stray further beyond the elastic of your underwear as he shows you just how good he can be with his hands
Sebastian:
You and him went swimming, despite his dislike of the activity he was always willing to go with you
You had wanted to explore a little cave like opening in the stone of the mountains near the lake and he came with you to make sure your good
And that’s how you end up here, stuck pressed against each other in your swimsuits, stuck between two particularly close stone walls
Sebastian’s trying to look anywhere but at you to avoid popping the most awkward boner in existence
“Well this is less then ideal, sorry Sebastian I didn’t think we would get stuck”
You feel a bit bad since you know he’s probably pretty uncomfortable right now
“Th-that’s okay, not your fault”
He has one hand behind your head so you don’t accidentally smack it on the hard rocks, his other hand is on your waist because it felt right to place it there
“Well, atleast the suns setting so you won’t get burnt”
“And we’re basically skin to skin so we probably won’t freeze”
He tried to lighten the mood a bit, it worked since you let out an airy laugh
“Could be worse, atleast I get the hot emo boy to keep me company”
Now he’s blushing, from chest to forehead just red
“You think I’m hot?”
Definitely had a voice crack in that statement but you ignore it much to his prides pleasure
“Absolutely, hottest guy in town”
Your trying to kill him he’s convinced but atleast he’ll die happy
“Fuck baby you can’t just say shit like that while pressed against me”
You can feel his erection pressing into your stomach
“Hmmmmmm maybe I’m prepared for the consequences”
The hand that was on your waist gently wraps around your neck as he pulls you into a heated kiss, tongue exploring the inside of your mouth while you gasp against him
You manage to bring your legs up enough to sort of trap his hips against yours as you grind against him
He moans against your lips before pulling back to trail kisses down your neck, leaving a few hickeys on whatever spots seem particularly sensitive
Meanwhile you’ve pulled his cock out of his swim shorts and lined him up with your cunt, gently rubbing the head through your folds for a moment before grinding your hips down just enough to sheath him inside
“Fuck, so fucking tight around me baby”
You whine into his skin as you hide your face into his neck, he’s gently thrusting into you as much as the little space will allow him to do
One of his hands travels between your body’s to start rubbing little circles on your clit while you fist your hands into his hair
“Shit seb, feels so fucking good”
He whines quietly at your praise as he can feel the knot forming in his stomach, he’s close to cumming but thankfully so are you
“Not gonna last much longer baby, cum with me, yeah? Think you can be a good girl and cum with daddy?”
Your nodding frantically as you start to spasm around him, milking his cock for all its worth
He slams his hips into you once more as deep as he can before filling your warm walls with his cum
Somehow all the movement you guys have done has wedged you free, no longer stuck in a tight spot your heading back to his place for round two
Alex:
You and Alex were exploring the deep woods together because he wanted to know what types of things you do in your day to day
He was not expecting the woods to be full of slimes trying to kill you but ya know, it’s always an adventure with the farmer
That’s how you end up in a small cave pressed against each other while you patch up a small wound on his thigh
“You okay? Your being pretty quiet up there”
He’s trying not to focus on how close to his dick your hands are so he doesn’t get hard
It’s not working very well
“I’m fine, just a little scrape I’m sure it’s okay”
“Yeah but it’s better to take care of it now, don’t want it to get infected”
He knows your right but also your hands brushed by his cock and now he’s got a semi
And it’s hard not to notice especially when it twitches as your hands brush over it again
“Baby, sweetheart, love please, you gotta know what your doing to me”
Your feigning innocence because it’s a little entertaining watching him be so flustered
“Hmmmm i should make sure your not injured anywhere else”
Your hands are on the buttons to his jeans looking at him for permission to pull them down
He knows the game your playing, so he lets you
You’ve got his cock out and your gently stroking your hands up and down his shaft, adjusting the pressure to what gets the best reaction out of him
“Oh fuck sweetheart that’s so good”
He’s putty in your hands
You decide to go for double kill and gently lower your mouth on the tip, sucking lightly while you stroke his shaft
He’s moaning loudly now, one hand in your hair to start bobbing you up and down on his cock
“Shiittt baby gonna lemme cum down your throat yeah? Please”
How could you say no to such a nice request
You relax your throat as best you can and take his whole cock into your mouth at once, he’s cumming in seconds
You pull back and swallow as you smile up at him
He needs like ten minutes to recover but he’s returning the favour twice over
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lovesickry · 7 months
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- let the light in.
┈⋆⭒ lando norris x rival femdriver!reader [2.3k] ┈⋆⭒ prologue !
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ find all parts here! ˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ contains: swearing .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ a/n: this is an enemies/rivals to lovers and I am so incredibly excited to write this so here's the prologue. :)
2022 season, driver for Mercedes-AMG Petronas Formula 1 team.
You hadn't had a problem with Lando Norris. You weren't friends by any means but you used to smile at him, give him a pat on the back when he did well on the weekend. You used to scoff at some of his sly jokes he made to reporters. You used to be polite acquaintances. That was until the moment you saw something in him you despised. Something that you saw as unforgivable.
-MIAMI GRAND PRIX 2022
You were on pole. 
You were actually on pole. 
For the first time in your career you had taken pole.
The feeling was something incomparable to just about anything you’d ever experienced. 
Stepping out of the car, having everyone congratulate you as you beamed, walking to the media pen for post-qualifying interviews smiling like an idiot. It was your first pole in your career and it warranted something to talk about. Though it had taken years for the interviewers to not comment on your gender, you relished in the fact that not a single interview today had asked about how it felt to have long hair or if it was uncomfortable wearing a racing suit and also having tits. Or how it felt that your competitors would always have a “biological advantage”. There was not one single comment made even similar to the quietly yet blatantly sexist comments you were so used to receiving and combatting. These interviews as pleasant as they were remained about the car, about the race and about the track. Things you loved to talk about when people actually listened. You look back at Carlos and Charles and they both whisper congratulations mid-interview. Miami definitely wasn't your favourite, the track was alright but what you hated the most (nevermind sounding stuck up) were the fans or atleast some of them. You'd already had too many shit experiences with middle aged white men telling you that Mercedes was a team purely for “show” or that they shouldn't make formula one a “political” sport. Are you fucking joking? 
On the other hand, all the women you met were lovely, telling you how proud they were, how amazing you were. But all the men, oh they would either compliment you or insult you, both were equally uncomfortable experiences. Nevertheless, it was something you’ve sadly gotten used to and something you refused to dwell on this weekend. Your pace was superb, you had got pole after all and the idea that a win was in the books was one that kept you awake that night. Although needing the sleep just as bad.
The morning brought a wave of heavily suspected nerves, your hands were shaking annoyingly and you kept having to hide the fact from the cameras, so as to not make a story out of it, something that you inwardly (and outwardly) despised journalists about. Their ability to stick their nose in things so clearly marked “Keep Out!” You'd already seen about seven articles this year, making up some bogus story about how you and charles were secretly dating or some weird romantic trope, getting all these photos of friendly interactions and marking it up to PR interactions and we were secretly dating. It was funny actually, the lengths people would go to just to somehow justify their hate for you. At Least if you were dating a driver they could say you were only in the sport because, oh how did Christian Horner put it. “The drivers are good looking.” Which is exactly why you’d made sure to stay strictly friends with every single one, dating completely and totally outside the Formula 1 fucked up family circle. 
As the media commitments finally wrapped up and you did the final interviews before being let go to prepare for the race you bumped into Alex, you admired him as a driver and he was always kind to you, he wished you good luck and congratulated you on your first pole before excusing himself to be escorted to the Williams garage. As you said, you were friendly with most of the drivers. You reach your drivers room and let out a sigh of relief seeing your physio standing there already. You do some quick warmups, stretches exercises before she asks if anything is hurting. You mention a point in your lower back in which she focuses on and does a few different methods on relieving some of the pain before you need to get in the car. You weigh in and settle into the car, brain fuzzed and hands though not shaking were sweaty and your heart was beating so loud you thought you might die, the sound feeling as though it was echoing around your helmet. Checking through the last thing with the engineers, suddenly you were alone on the track, open track ahead of you for the first time, you were starting alongside Max, who you knew was heavily tarnishing your chance of a win, but there was still the hope for a better start and better strategy. Maybe just maybe you could keep him behind? 
Formation lap, returning back to your places, you were doing what you were taught, think of nothing, think of nothing, close the door, close the door. Close the door. Breath, you dont dare to blink as you watch the lights one by one before they all go off. Zooming off into the first corner your mind is blank as you like it and you are focused. You’re aware of your jaw tensing as you keep max behind going into turn 8. Your engineer is giving you lap by lap updates but its not helping as you push and push to keep him barely 1.2 seconds behind. You managed the pace but you noticed going into lap 23 that the rear tires were sliding, feeling it through turn 14 and 15 as you glimpsed max in your mirrors just as you swerved slightly. You were still in the lead however and feeling confident enough that pitting know and losing places would just mean others pitting later. You mention on the radio about the rears and they tell you to watch the tire deg for a few more laps and then they’ll bring you in. you reply in a quick yes before racking your brain on how the fuck youre going to handle these for another “few” laps. Not surprisingly max overtakes you on the next lap at turn 10 and you immediately opt to pit. You exit the pit lane acutely aware of the position you will come out in. P10, great. The tires took what felt like years to finally heat up and for you to actually start gaining positions but once you gained one, it all fell into place. The undercut had worked as everyone stopped to pit for fresh tires you gained time and on the 38th lap you’d found yourself right back in p2, comfortably looking at the rear wing of max verstappen who was yet to pit as he started on the hard not the mediums. But, you figured he'd be feeling the rears go soon and you could just wait it out but also, as you were reminded by your race engineer: manage paceand defend behind. Going into the 39th lap you watched as verstappen pulled into the pit lane and your jaw for the first time in nearly 40 laps, relaxed. If you could just keep the tires until the end this was yours. Your engineer alerted you that max had come out in p11 and although he was on mediums, it would still take him what they estimated to be 12 laps to reach the top pack again. Currently you were driving steady, your gaze was forward and you remained ahead by 2.3 seconds, an honourable lead but you could always push. The straights seemed to test the car more as Charles gained 0.8 in the straight but lost that same time almost immediately in the corners. Going into lap 49 your engineer alerted of the gap between you and p2,3,4 and 5. It was only 3 seconds. fuck , fuck fuck. Verstappen was still climbing and you were still losing grip with 8 laps left could you seriously make these shitty tires last, your questioned was answered as you grazed the wall coming out of turn 2, your rear tires simply giving out as you righted the car. 
“Did you just see that?”
“Yes we did” “What can I do? I'm losing grip”
“Norris is .9 behind”
“Yeah alright thanks”
No help, cool. But now norris was behind, what happened to Charles. Aw what the fuck these tires were shit and the only hope was the brief 5 laps, however they seemed to be stretching out hopelessly as you locked up again and again. It was nearly undriveable approaching the 54th lap.
“Norris is .7 behind, he has been advised to overtake”
You don’t bother to respond, you’re trying to figure out how the fuck to still win this race, focusing all your will power into defense now as the McLaren inches dangerously closer to your rear wing. You’re cautious as you follow the racing line through turn 11, but your brain clocks out the minute that you glance in the mirror and see Lando Norris’ wheel impossibly close to yours as he attempts an overtake on the outside. You pray for no contact and it's futile, all the fucking effort you put in and the tire management was all fucking useless, because thanks to Lando Norris and his bullshit strategy and sheer fucking selfishness he hits your rear wheel sending you into straight into the barrier. What should’ve been your first win in formula one was made into a fucking joke as you watched the McLaren drive off unopposed. There were simply no words to describe the sheer anger you felt, your jaw tensed again, your teeth fucking shook and suddenly you wanted to cry. You knew you shouldn't.
Reminding yourself of where you were, you lifted your head up, being met with the red and yellow of the barrier.
“Are you okay?”
You have nothing to say, afraid your voice might break or you'll scream. You reach out and lift yourself out of the car.
Nothing could've prepared you for the red that filled your vision as you watched Lando Norris lift up that first place trophy that should've been yours.
Of course you were jealous but you weren't just that. You were fucking furious. Not only had he crashed into you, ruining your race. He had blamed it all on you, in a post race interview he said-
"yeah, no. I mean I don't think anyone is to blame but I also think she was in a position where she should have let me by and when she braked late she sent her wheel into mine."
A fucking lie. nobody is to blame? maybe the person who actually hit your fucking wheel maybe, the person trying to steal my fucking racing line maybe? There was no fucking consoling you as you made your way as quietly as you could to the McLaren garage, at least hoping for an apology. You spot him talking to Carlos and you go over, initially only facing Carlos, congratulating him on his points before turning to Lando, who is standing there with a smug look on your face. You want to punch him.
"I'm sorry about how your race ended Dylan, I really thought you had this one" Carlos sounded genuine and he rubbed your shoulder while he said it. It was a nice thing to say but you were acutely aware of Lando's presence.
"Thanks Carlos" I nod
"sorry but do you think I could speak to Lando alone please?"
he nods and walks off as Lando outwardly groans, you turn towards him and wait. For anything.
"Nothing? Really?"
he raises his eyebrows "What?"
Your nostrils flare and you swallow as you try to fathom this.
"No fucking apology Norris?" its not the most polite thing, but its the most polite things on a list of things to say to him.
he pouts his lips jokingly and then pops his lips.
"Nup."
That's it, something in your brain fizzles over, you're as angry as you can contain and you just stand there stoic looking at his smug fucking face as he holds what should've been your trophy. There is a bitter taste in your mouth as you smile out of sheer disbelief, an unnerving smile before leaning forward to whisper in his ear.
"I didn't brake late and you fucking know it"
You ignored the way his lips twitched into a kind of twisted smile or the way he went to respond before you walked away.
As you walk away from him your breathing is shallow and fast, he doesn’t try and argue with you and you are still fuming as you reach the hotel and try to sleep. Ending up on the treadmill, running until you couldn't be angry anymore but the minute you stopped it all came flooding back, blood on fire again and you were back in those fucking barriers. Your jaw tensed, you would never ever look in the direction of Lando fucking Norris again.
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youresodarkbabe · 1 month
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down on all fours (90s au rockstar a. turner x reader)
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smut.
warnings: overstimulation, praise, degradation (yes, both of them), aly has dacryphilia <3, dom!al, spit :)
word count: 2.1k
everyone thank @psychedelicrocker for telling me to write this instead of f1 alex again, also it's not v obviously 90s au whoopsies
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
alex was fucked.
he had been trying to write one simple song for hours now, and nothing seemed to stick. either a lyric would be too complex for the tune or he'd dumb it down too much. there really was no in between.
in his defense, though, he was freshly free from the harsh confines of a world tour and had lost all semblance of sanity.
he kept pacing around his office until he realized something. through all of the fans and drugs and groupies, he remembered one thing that was a constant.
you.
you met alex at the new jersey show he did with his band and he was intrigued, to say the least. he brought you backstage and had his way with you, sure, but he wanted more. he needed it, or rather, you.
he got you tickets to their next show and told you to come if you could, and you did. you thoroughly enjoyed the show, just as much as you enjoyed the way he destroyed your cunt before it and the way he fucked you til you cried after. the cycle repeated, they'd finish a show, he'd give you tickets to the next one.
the boys hadn't really tried forming connections with the girls they took back to their hotel rooms because to them, it was just a one time thing, they were high and their girl of the night would be starstruck and it was a fun way to unwind post-show. alex had the same mindset for years. until you. you ruined him completely. as much as he adored tearing you apart with his cock, he obsessed over the way you'd laugh breathlessly after a good fuck. he knew he was gone the moment you kissed him, the way your lips felt against his— soft, gentle, caring— it changed him.
the feelings alex had towards you could be described in many ways. an obsession, a need, a want, a love.
he couldn't care less. as long as he had you.
he crumpled up the messy, inked sheet of paper in his hand and tosses it into the trash and runs over to his untouched suitcase and digs through it until he finds the note you gave him at the last show he'd perform before moving to the european leg of the tour. the note had your phone number along with your address and the words 'don't forget me' written with a heart.
he realizes that you only lived a few minutes down the road. he decides to take the risk and punches your number into his landline and holds the receiver up to his ear. you take your time to pick up, but he let it go, it was half past two anyways.
"um, hello?" your voice called out, almost instantly making the hairs on the back of his neck stand and his cock harden.
"hey, doll. been missin' you. been missin' your cunt, to be real specific. come over, i need my muse back." his voice is as sharp as it had always been, hearing it sending you into a frenzy. you were well and truly speechless, and he knew.
"i'll see you here, bunny."
you were still half asleep but the familiar warmth of alex's voice woke you up and you instantly got on your feet and began running around your room, scrambling around for anything to make yourself look more presentable for alex.
you quickly try fixing the mess that your hair was and apply a quick swipe of the red lipstick of yours that alex adored so much.
you threw on the first things you could find and decided you'd rather walk to his instead of driving, because all the thoughts you were thinking would not lead to a safe drive.
you showed up wearing his band's shirt and a leather jacket with spikes around the neck that almost resembled a collar.
he has to take a second to take all of you in.
he pulls you in by your waist and shuts the door behind you and gives your lips a quick peck.
"i've missed you, doll." he murmurs against your lips, "you always were my favourite from the lot."
he kisses you again, deeper this time, less sweetness and more desperation. teeth clashed, his slight stubble scratching your face, adding to the stimulation and making you hum into the kiss.
alex slips his hands from your waist to your ass, cupping the flesh and massaging it, also pushing your hips into his waist and grinding his cock into you. he pulls away, breathless.
"you know the drill. everythin' off, except that jacket. i expect you on all fours by the time i get to my room."
you open your mouth to retort but decide against it and tiptoe past him and run up to his bedroom. you get undressed and forget to put the jacket back on.
alex, still downstairs, fixed himself a drink and almost finished half of it before he was upstairs. his cock throbbing at the sight.
you were on all fours on his cozy, pristine bed, your back arched so perfectly.
"where's the jacket, doll?"
"'m sorry, al, i forgot."
alex discards his clothes slowly, leaving himself in his boxers. he crawls onto the bed and kneels in between your legs, his hands running up and down your back, pressing it into more of an arch.
"it's alright, angel," he presses a kiss to your soaked pussy from behind, "next time, hm?"
you grind against his face, trying to tell him what you need without irritating him. you hear him swear at himself before his tongue delves into your core, lapping at anything he can get. his fingers come to your front and play with your clit as he devours your dripping cunt. you feel that knot in your stomach threatening to snap as he pulls away, whining at him stopping so suddenly.
"al, please, i'm good, i need you, please—"
you moan excessively loudly when he pushes two fingers into your cunt with no prior warning, feeling your eyes rolling back into your head as his fingers thrust in and out of you, curling and hitting every spot you needed him to get to.
"what did i tell you about doubting me, sweet girl?", he asks sweetly as he spreads his fingers as far apart as he can, watching your hole gape as you scream out his name.
"never doubt you, al, never ever doubting you," you trail off as he continues his relentless movements.
alex suddenly stops all his movements, taking his hands away from you, licking his fingers clean.
"taste as good as you did the first time, doll, fuck, you're takin' me back."
alex's mind flickered back to tour, how despite you both considering your interactions as a rockstar and one of his groupies, there was something different. it wasn't just sex, at least, not to him. he constantly fantasized about taking you out, buying you anything you ever wanted and more, treating you the way you deserved.
but he wasn't sure if he deserved you at all.
he saw himself as a pathetic excuse of a man who thrives on the validation of strangers and crumbles with the slightest criticism, but that also led to him imagining how you'd comfort him in these moments of devastation.
but that wasn't important to him now, he couldn't care less.
"you ready?", he asks, finally freeing his cock, pumping it slightly while watching his pre-cum spill onto your ass and then aligning it with your aching pussy, running his tip through your folds.
"mm, yes, please, fuck—"
alex slides into you before you can finish speaking, your words turning into a choked moan. alex doesn't even hesitate and begins thrusting as fast as he can, jaw hanging open as your cunt squeezes him. his writer's block disappears, everything does. you're all he saw at that point and he didn't mind it at all.
you almost scream his name as he fucks into you with no hesitation, going as fast as he can.
"just as good as i remembered baby, god," alex groans as he runs his hands up your sides, grabbing onto your hair and tugging it so he has your back pressed against his chest. you actually scream this time, the stinging feeling of his cock stretching your cunt and the pure euphoria of the act being almost too much to handle. you throw your head back to rest on his shoulder as he keeps fucking into you, one of his hands slipping to your clit, playing with it as he littered your neck with kisses.
"takin' me like a champ, doll, so so good. perfect lil toy, aren't you? fuckin' soaked too."
his fervent thrusts get slower and sloppier as you squeeze around him. "fuck, al, 'm gonna cum, please," you beg mindlessly as he brings his other hand up to wrap around your throat, squeezing slightly as he nips at a spot under your ear.
"hm, not yet."
you whine in response, your moans getting louder and louder by the second.
"good girl, keep waiting for me, perfect lil slut," alex mutters as he slows down slightly, leaving small kisses of appreciation on your cheek as tears well in your eyes. he notices this and you can feel him twitch inside you as you tighten around him once more, unable to hold back any longer.
you scream out his name as your back arches against his chest, one of your hands flying to grasp at the back of his hair, pulling as you shake and moan until your voice is completely hoarse.
alex stills after you stop shaking and gives you a few seconds to compose yourself.
"you enjoy that? filthy fuckin' whore."
he pulls out of you roughly and flips you onto your back, almost instantly pushing his cock back into your sore cunt.
tears stream down your face as he bottoms out, you're desperate for him to stop and give your ruined pussy a break but at the same time, you can't stop yourself from wrapping your legs around his waist and trying to get him even closer. you dig your nails into alex's back as he pounds into you relentlessly, the sting of your nails scratching along his back making him hiss and go even faster.
alex's hands push your legs even further apart and he lifts them up onto his shoulders, his eyes fixated on the way he could see the outline of his cock filling you up.
"fuck, doll, you're gonna let me fill you up, aren't you? you gonna take it for me, baby?"
alex moves your hair out of your face as you nod pathetically, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. he dips his head down to take your nipple into his mouth and slows his thrusts to synchronize with tongue swirling around it, humming softly. he pulls off and latches onto your neck, his teeth clamping down slightly as he picks up his pace again, making you see stars as he fucks his cum as deep into you as possible.
alex collapses onto your chest, breathing heavily. he waits for a while before pulling out and looking at your ruined cunt, smiling as he sees the mixture of your cum and his seeping out of you.
"perfect, bunny, so gorgeous."
two of his fingers circle your aching hole once more and he pushes them into you until they only part of them he can see are his knuckles. he scissors his fingers and spits directly into you, pulling his fingers back out only to scoop up everything and push it back into you, he keeps playing with you like this until he's satisfied enough. he pulls his fingers out and taps on your lips with them and you open your mouth, sucking on them until they're clean.
"good girl, you did so well for me tonight."
he presses a gentle kiss to the space between your tits and moves upwards, leaving a kiss on your collarbone, your jaw, your cheek and finally kissing your lips.
kissing you feels liberating to him, it doesn't feel forced or purely driven by his need to fuck you. but there is something wrong.
"we can't keep doing this."
alex rested his chin on your chest and looked up at you as he spoke.
"we need to do this the right way, doll. i wanna take you out, do all that shit. let me have you, princess, please."
you open your mouth to respond but your voice barely comes out which makes you him laugh as you hide your face in his shoulder. he soothingly rubs your stomach as the laughter dies out and the silence takes over the room, alex doesn't feel awkward the way he normally would and his heart only feels lighter as he sees you nod with that smile he'd grown to adore.
"can't fuckin' wait."
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
this one's been in the drafts for ages im ngl
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verstappen-cult · 4 months
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THE BOYS TAKING CARE OF YOU WHEN YOU’RE SICK | F1 GRID
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★ — LANDO NORRIS (4)
after you text lando that you won’t be able to make it to your date because you’re in bed with a cold, lando doesn’t hesitate to go see you, even after you’ve warned him not to. “i don’t care if i get ill.” he has said through the phone. he feels awful seeing you so sick, and makes it his life mission to take care of you. once he’s sure you’re warm in bed, lando rushes to the kitchen to make you some tea. and stays all night taking care of you, barely sleeping just to make sure you have a good rest. the next day you feel a lot better but lando still doesn’t let you get out of bed or do anything, spoiling you and doing everything by himself because, “it’s the least i can do.” and, of course, he ends up catching a cold too.
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★ — CHARLES LECLERC (16)
chales knows something is wrong when you don’t get out of bed in the morning and begins to worry when he returns home a few hours later and you are curled up on the couch with a blanket all the way up to your head. he sits next to you, wrapping his arms around you, making you rest your head on his chest. “how do you feel? what can i do for you?” but you can only groan in frustration, feeling absolutely hammered. charles gives you a kiss on the forehead before disappearing to the kitchen. he can’t cook, but makes his best effort to make you some soup, searching on the internet and even calling his mom for some advice, and then feeding you, not letting you do anything by yourself.
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★ — OSCAR PIASTRI (81)
oscar does everything he can to make you feel good and comfortable. he sits in a chair next to your bed and reads your favorite book aloud and holding your hand all the time because he knows you get clingy when you’re sick. he also sets an alarm so you don’t forget to take your medicine, whispering “there you go, my sweet girl. you’re doing so good.” while giving you water and stroking your hair with his free hand. oscar doesn’t leave your side until you are fast asleep, and even when you’re apart he tries to be as present as he can.
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★ — MAX VERSTAPPEN (33/1)
max goes crazy, it’s hurts him seeing you like that. he calls every doctor in monaco to get them to see you and buys everything they tell him you need. he can’t get sick, so max keeps his distance “i just want to get under the covers and hug you until you feel better.” he complains, hands itching to touch you but you won’t let him. when he sees that your favorite water is running out and there aren’t anymore tissues, he makes a quick trip to do the shopping and ends up buying a lot more things than necessary. he doesn’t leave without a huge bouquet of your favorite flowers that then places in your nightstand when you’re sleeping.
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★ — ALEX ALBON (23)
alex finds out you are sick only thanks to your mom who tells him, and he immediately shows up at your door. he’s angry, a well-prepared speech on the tip of his tongue, but once he sees how bad you’re feeling, alex forgets all about his anger. he guides you with a hand on your shoulder back to your bedroom and stays with you all day even if he doesn’t know what to do. alex panics when you run to the bathroom to throw up, but follows you and strokes your hair through it, words of affection leaving his mouth. “what you want to do? it will make you feel better.” so you two end up cuddling in bed after doing your skincare, watching your favorite movie.
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★ — DANIEL RICCIARDO (3)
daniel doesn’t let anyone come near you or disturb you because “she needs to rest and if i see anyone bothering her you’re out of the house.” he takes care of you but he also lets you know how upset he is that you are sick, listing all of the times he told you to be careful and take care of yourself. daniel constantly checks your temperature to ensure you are okay, leaving kisses all over your face and making you giggle because that’s the only way to tell, according to him. to help you sleep he brings out his guitar and signs you a lullaby until you stop cringing and, eventually, fall asleep.
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★ — MICK SCHUMACHER (47)
mick treats you as if you’re made out of glass and are going to break at any moment. he’s more scared than worried and you have to assure him that you are going to be okay, that it’s just a simple cold. he hugs you like you’re going to disappear whispering “i wish i was the one sick and not you.” which makes you feel so loved. he stays glued to your side until you are no longer sick, and even then he stills checks with you that everything is okay.
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© VERSTAPPEN-CULT ⎯ do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.
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lovings4turn · 2 months
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୧ ‧₊˚ ☕️ ⋅ ☆ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭…
— in desperate need of caffeine, logan stumbles into the first cafe he comes across. little does he know, this will be the start of something great.
+ the first part of my whole latte love series , aka my child , so i hope you all enjoy <3 this is set in the uk , but reader isn't specified to be any particular nationality !
+ dividers from benkeibear !!
there were many sacrifices logan sargeant was willing to make in his life.
flying halfway across the world aged only eleven to pursue his dream of racing, for one. on a smaller scale, always allowing his brother dalton to ride shotgun on family trips, despite the fact that the backseat caused his legs to cramp up after a few hours.
but, no matter how late he was running, logan had promised himself he would never, ever deprive his body of a hot, caffeinated beverage before a meeting. 
on this particular morning, though, logan was running especially late. normally, the jarring sound of the iphone alarm would snap him from his deep sleep within seconds, the noise sparking an instant feeling of dread within him even when it wasn't coming from his phone. 
he’d learned that alex had a habit of setting alarms for various things throughout the day, before promptly forgetting what he’d set it for, leaving logan to go through the five stages of grief at least four times a weekend. 
but it seemed today the universe had been a little bored, and so decided to find entertainment in burdening a poor, unsuspecting american race car driver with one minor inconvenience after another. 
firstly, his alarm hadn't woken him up. correction: it had woken him up, just thirty minutes after it was supposed to.
secondly, his pride in managing to get dressed with an impressive five minutes to spare was quickly dissipated when he couldn't find his keys or wallet. the hunt had set him back another ten minutes (because why on earth would he think to check the cutlery drawer until he had run out of other possible options?).
and, for good measure, he'd tripped over his own welcome mat in his mad dash out of his apartment. so, yeah, it had been a morning, to put it lightly.
logan cursed to himself as he all but jogged down the busy street, eyes desperately scanning every building he passed in search of a cafe. he was too frantic to read any shop signs, but when he witnessed two girls walking out of a doorway clutching two paper cups, he knew he'd struck gold.
fucking finally.
logan offered the pair a tight lipped smile as he slipped past them and into the cafe, letting a sigh of relief escape his lips as the familiar smell of strong, freshly brewed coffee hit him. 
this was more than worth being late for, he decided. he'd pick up a few extra coffees, as an apology, a courtesy of some kind. who could be mad with a cup of coffee in their hand? though logan figured he was allowed to be a little lax in his timings anyways, since he was no longer in his rookie year at williams. the team would forgive him quick enough.
trainer-clad feet led him towards the back of the fairly short queue leading up to the counter, and logan took the opportunity to slip his phone out from his coat pocket and shoot a quick text to alex. he hoped his teammate wouldn’t mind bearing the responsibility of updating the rest of the team on his whereabouts. 
‘sorry, overslept. omw now though, bringing coffee as an apology and effort to keep my head’.
three laughing emojis quickly flared up onto logan’s lockscreen, and he took that as a positive sign. 
it was only when logan placed his phone back into his pocket that he realised just how close he was to the front of the line, and immediately began rehearsing his order. sure, he ordered the same thing practically every single time he got coffee, but with the day he was having, he’d probably find a way to absolutely butcher the simple order.
all he needed was his oat milk latte, a black coffee for james, and some sort of sugary, overly sweet concoction for alex. he doubted this place sold the pumpkin spiced lattes that he loved to tease alex about ordering, so he’d just have to find the next best thing.
only, when he finally stepped up to the counter and opened his mouth to order, his mind went blank.
standing only a few feet in front of him was the most gorgeous person logan had ever seen, and considering he’d travelled the world and met countless different women and men over the years, that was an impressive achievement. 
you, luckily, hadn’t noticed the internal reboot logan was experiencing, and focused instead on offering him a warm smile and greeting.
“morning! what can i get for you today?” you asked, finger poised and ready to input his order into the till in front of you.
logan barely managed to stop himself from physically shaking his head in an attempt to clear it, before pasting a crooked grin of his own onto his lips.
“good morning,” he returned, voice a little quiet before he cleared his throat and spoke up again. “can i just get a large black americano, large oat milk latte, and uh,” logan paused, eyes quickly scanning the board in front of him as he weighed up all of the different syrups available. 
vanilla, caramel, hazelnut, and oh, thank god, cinnamon. that was close enough to pumpkin spice, right?
“and a large cinnamon latte, please. oh, to take out.” he finished, finally returning his eyes to you as you skillfully rang through his order.
“ah, great choice,” you commented, your smile still never having left your lips. 
from the moment he’d opened his mouth, you’d quickly registered the accent, though opted not to comment on it despite how pleasing it was to your ears. of course there were no shortage of americans stepping into the cafe everyday, but there was something about his in particular that caused your ears to perk up a little more. maybe it was down to the person it was attached to, instead. 
“and is that everything for you today?” you continued, snapping back into following what you’d aptly dubbed your ‘service speech’, a routine that ensured you didn't stumble over your words to every customer you served.
“that’s all, yeah.” logan responded with another small smile. 
“perfect. that’ll be nine eighty there.”
"great, thank you."
logan quickly pulled out his phone to pay, though as his eyes caught the small jar sat on the counter, ‘tips’ scrawled onto a label in nice handwriting, he wished he was paying by cash. a flash of hope ran through him as he dug his hand into his jean pocket, and he had never been more relieved to feel some spare change brush against his fingertips. 
barely even bothering to count how much was there – it looked to be about three pounds, but he could have been wrong - logan dropped it into the jar, offering you a sheepish smile. he felt a little foolish, paying by card and fumbling around for some cash, but the look on your face was more than worth it. 
“thank you,” you repeated with a soft laugh. “should be ready for you in two minutes.”
logan couldn’t bring himself to speak again, so simply nodded and moved to walk to the point he would collect his drinks from. before that, though, he would grant himself one, small privilege. 
his eyes quickly found your name badge, and he scanned it as subtly as he could before he walked away, the name replaying over and over in his mind like a broken record. but, no. broken records were annoying, an inconvenience, something to fix or throw out. your name was anything but. 
not even five minutes after he’d placed his order were his drinks placed onto the counter, each labelled appropriately to save for any confusion. a cupholder had also been provided, which logan was eternally grateful for. he didn’t think the three drinks would survive the short journey otherwise. as a treat to himself, he took a small sip from his latte and almost swore. logan didn’t believe in magic, but he was sure that this coffee was somehow laced with it. never had a simple oat latte tasted so good to him.
and, he thought, a little embarrassingly, never had someone looked so good making one, either. 
“see you later!” you called from behind the till, lifting your hand in a gesture that could be perceived as a wave, but also an attempt to smooth your hair a little. 
logan nodded and gave you a smile. you would definitely see him later. he had just found his new favourite coffee shop, and he wasn’t going to give it up any time soon.
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☕️ . . . there it is , the first instalment !! i loved writing this so much - and actually did so with a cinnamon iced latte of my own , as alex and i are actually one and the same ! hope you all enjoyed , and thank you for reading <3
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