#day 2 will be tackled tomorrow

[ashxketchum]

MIMATO WEEK 2023 DAY 1 - "DIGIVICE"

FFN / AO3

Summary: After losing their partners, the Digidestined are learning to let go, they're learning to move on with their lives. But what throws them off track is the sudden revival of their Digivices in a way that none of them expected. The word partner has more than one meaning after all. If one is lost, maybe another will be found?

Notes: Post Kizuna, Soulmate AU

Chapters: 1/?

~~~~~ xxx~~~~~

To live every day with a gaping hole in your life was something that Yamato had now gotten used to.

His routine was simple, wake up, go to college, socialise after classes, come home and sleep, and when the sun rose the next day, rinse and repeat.

This is how things had been ever since Menoa Belluci was apprehended for her actions, ever since Gabumon stood next to him for one last time, before disappearing into a void that Yamato still hadn’t managed to break into. What he had learned from trying, however, was that life goes on despite everything else. Even if he and Taichi could not be there at the scene to resolve the issue of Digimon pouring into their world through random appearances of Digital Gate, someone else was ready to take their place.

Yamato, like many others, had finished playing a role in the grand scheme and had no choice but to accept the next act that awaited him, no matter how small and irrelevant it seemed in comparison.

So that’s what he did, lived life with the hope of making it to the end of the day, ignoring the emptiness that tugged at him from every direction, reminding him of the promise he had made, reminding him of the partner he had lost.

Somewhere along the line, it became difficult for him and Taichi to look each other in the eye after that final battle. Agumon and Gabumon had taken with them the phase of their lives where they depended on each other for everything. From catching up twice or thrice a week, their meetups happened once a month until the two became busy enough to let their get-togethers fizzle out of their schedules and turned them into an occasional message or a short phone call every few months.

Sora had lost Piyomon not soon after, deciding that that was the moment she needed to discover herself anew, moving on to immerse herself in her job and eventually losing touch with most of them. Jou had been the next one to lose Gomamon, he showed up to Yamato’s apartment at 2 AM, crying uncontrollably. Yamato sat with him all night as he sobbed, holding his hand throughout as he held his own tears back. A few months back, Koushiro informed everyone that the timer had appeared for him as well, but so far it was moving slowly so Tentomon was still around. Takeru, Hikari and the other kids were still very much actively trying to work towards solving any Digimon related problems that arose around the world. His brother was sweet enough to not let Patamon tag along when he came by to visit until Yamato told him it was okay to do so.

As crazily as they had been dropped into the Digital World and gotten used to having their partners next to them at all times, eventually, they got used to their disappearance as well. Yamato knew that if he ran into his younger self right now, the little boy would find it hard to believe that he could live every day of his life normally, smiling and laughing, knowing that there was a chance that Gabumon would never appear at his side again. That was probably the only thought that tugged at him the most, every time the idea that he could no longer face his younger self confidently would appear in his mind, Yamato would find it very difficult to look at himself in the mirror.

But, life goes on, and so did Yamato.

Today, he was out socialising after classes with his college friends, the part of his routine that he was always least interested in but could never get out of either. Most of the time the group would go to small izakayas where Yamato would sit cramped between two people he didn’t like, sipping on beer as slowly as possible to avoid getting drunk in front of his classmates. Sometimes he’d be dragged to mixer parties, as much as he tried to say no to these, he was told that the girls would not show up if he didn’t so for the sake of keeping up a good relationship with his classmates he’d allow himself to be showcased as a prize in front of girls he had no interest in. Wanting to try something fresh and new, today his college friends had decided that they would go for karaoke. As Yamato had kept his singing hobby under wraps from this group, he wasn’t looking forward to the night at all but was somewhat relieved to see that only a handful of people joined this escapade.

He was a little proud of himself for managing to avoid taking the mic up for a solo, so far he’d only joined in on choruses when everyone else was singing loudly too, and no one had noticed his bare minimum participation yet. The escape plan became very clear in Yamato’s mind, he’d stand up and join the hype for the next song, then pretend to be tired enough to be excused for the night without suspicion. He tapped his fingers against his knees impatiently, waiting for the two loudest members of the group to come back from the restroom with the hope that they’d pick some loud, rowdy song next which would get everyone in the room worked up for no reason.

Right on queue, the door to their booth opened and for a brief moment the dimly lit room was filled with white light before the two guys shut the door, their loud laughter drowning out the low notes of the ballad currently playing.

“You guys won’t believe what we just saw-”

“It’s so crazy!”

“There’s a girl in the booth next to ours-”

“A really hot girl by the way!”

“And she’s crying her eyes out, it’s insane really.”

Their loud exclamations were met with an uncomfortable silence for a few moments, Yamato was relieved that not everyone in this group thought that a girl in distress was something to laugh about. But as the two boys settled down, a few chuckles and shrugs were passed around their group, dismissing the information as irrelevant as the beginning notes of a preppy song filled the room. Yamato tried not to squirm in his seat as he forced a smile and nodded along to the music, fighting down the suffocating feeling that was trying to overwhelm him. He had planned to stay for one more song but he decided that now would be a good time to escape to the restroom and then come back after a few minutes to take his leave.

Raising his voice to be heard over the boys who were singing, Yamato informed the person sitting next to him that he’d be right back and quietly slipped out of the booth. Once in the empty hallway, he took a deep breath and made his way towards the restrooms. He dawdled around the bathroom stalls, scrolling on his phone and counting down the minutes until he’d need to go back and join the group. Although he hadn’t done much except sit around and fake nod to music he didn’t like, Yamato figured that by the time he got home, he’d be exhausted to the bone.

Deciding that a good ten minutes were more than enough time to go back and make an excuse about not feeling well, Yamato left the restroom and began to make his way back to the booth. When he passed by the booth right next to theirs, his feet automatically came to a halt. He hadn’t peeked inside, he wasn’t rude like his classmates, but something in his heart told him to take a few steps back and see if everything was okay in there. He knew that he wasn’t the best at comforting people, especially when they were crying, but if the person in there really did seem like they were in trouble, then the least he could do was inform the staff so they could come handle it. With that thought in his mind, Yamato confidently took a step back, leaning his head to glance through the large, oval-shaped window in the door.

As Yamato’s eyes landed on the occupant of the booth, his breath got caught in his throat.

His classmates hadn’t lied, the girl sitting inside was indeed crying terribly.

And it just so happened to be that that girl was Mimi Tachikawa.

A million questions raced around Yamato’s mind, should he go in, should he let her be, should he call someone else for help? Takeru would know exactly what to say and Sora would know exactly what to do, but Yamato was neither so at first all he could do was stare at the sight of a completely broken Mimi, fists balled at his side and feet frozen to the ground. He tried to reassure himself, that he didn’t know what had gone wrong, that this could be something personal like an argument with a friend or family member, or perhaps a bad breakup, in which case he really wouldn’t have anything worthwhile to say. It might be best to leave this to the experts, Yamato decided, pulling out his phone to drop a text to Sora. The two hadn’t talked in months but he was sure she would respond immediately out of her concern for Mimi’s well-being. He took a final peek into the booth, just to make sure he’d get all the details right before contacting Sora, and that’s when he noticed it.

Mimi was sitting with her hands clasped above her lap, clutching onto something loosely as she wept uncontrollably. When he moved closer to the door, it didn’t take him even a second to recognise the object in her hand.

She was holding onto her digivice, which once used to be as bright as a clear sky but now lay rusted and lifeless in her hands.

Yamato swallowed a nervous gulp, finally understanding what he was witnessing.

He slipped his phone back into his pants pocket and without hesitation stepped forward, opening the door so he could quietly enter Mimi’s booth. The sound of her crying rose above the music playing in the background. First, Yamato picked up the controller so he could turn off the music, and while setting it back down he noticed the mic that lay on the sofa across from Mimi. He clenched his jaw as an image of Palmon holding the mic and sitting in that dim karaoke booth with Mimi flickered into his mind. He shook his head in an attempt to keep his own emotions at bay before he gently sat down next to Mimi.

She was yet to notice his appearance in the room, when he looked at her face he saw that her eyes were squeezed shut as tears endlessly flowed down across her flushed cheeks, and the sight of her looking so crushed made his heart feel heavy. Her crying voice was also not easy for him to stomach, he was used to her chirpy tone even her slightly high-pitched whiny retorts, but these loud, guttural sobs were something he’d never have associated with Mimi. Being so close to her in this vulnerable state made his own pain resurface. He’d mastered the art of pushing down the numb emptiness he felt in his heart, but now suddenly he could see Gabumon sitting next to Palmon on the sofa across from them.

Yamato closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Now was not the time for him to be consumed by his own sadness, he was here to help Mimi get through this difficult moment.

With the feeble amount of courage that he could muster, he raised a hand and rested it softly on top of Mimi’s open palms. The effect was immediate, though she did not stop sobbing, Mimi did open her eyes wide as she turned to face him.

As surprised as she looked to find him next to her, when their eyes met it was as if everything that she had tried to hold back by herself burst out of her at once.

“She’s gone, she was right there and now she’s not, she’s gone- my best friend-”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Yamato squeezed her hands as he tried to maintain eye contact with her without shedding a tear or two of his own. Mimi darted her head around, looking at where Palmon must’ve been sitting and then back at him, caramel eyes filled with tears and grief as she attempted to make sense of the truth.

“My best friend.”

Mimi repeated those words in a hollow tone and Yamato nodded in response, even though her gaze was focused on the empty spot at the sofa across from them.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed after that, he sat there holding onto Mimi’s hands, making sure that she knew that she wasn’t alone. Even if her tears never stopped flowing across her cheeks, or her sobs never stopped echoing across the room, Yamato didn’t leave her side for even a second. It was all he could do really, he thought about saying encouraging shit like ‘it’ll get better’ or ‘you’ll get through this’ but dropped the idea as soon as it appeared in his mind because he knew the truth, it doesn’t get better so easily and nobody gets through this without feeling incomplete.

Mimi didn’t speak much and only stared ahead of herself in a daze. Once in a while, she’d squeeze his hand, maybe in an attempt to let him know that she was still here. He didn’t know if she appreciated his silence, or even his presence, since they’d never been close enough to bare their true feelings in front of the other like this. But he did know that if he’d turned around and walked away after seeing her in such a broken state, he would never have forgiven himself for it.

Which is why Yamato sat silently, almost as if he was a statue, awaiting any kind of signal from Mimi that would let him know that she was okay enough to leave. But it was the karaoke employee speaking through the intercom to inform them that the room’s usage rate was fulfilled, that brought Yamato’s feet back to the ground. With gritted teeth and a hardened jaw, he coaxed Mimi into standing up from her seat. Her footing was wobbly so he allowed her to hold onto his arms for stability. Looking around the room to check they weren’t leaving any of Mimi’s belongings behind, Yamato gently guided her out of the room even as a fresh batch of tears came rolling down her cheeks as she gave one last glance in the direction of where Palmon had stood last.

He was grateful that the employees they passed on their way out did not seem to bat an eyelid at the odd sight the two of them made, but his luck only lasted for so long. Once out on the street, the two received peculiar looks from the passers-by, with most of them directed at Yamato since he’d draped a protective arm around Mimi’s shoulders to ensure she wouldn’t walk into a busy street in her daze. He knew, however, that they wouldn’t be able to get too far like this, without some well-meaning stranger stopping them and enquiring about why Mimi looked so distressed. Spotting a brightly lit convenience store a few steps ahead, Yamato quickly led them to it, hoping to reduce any suspicion towards him if he talked with her in an easily accessible location.

“Mimi, which way is your home?” He tried to ask the question calmly, he didn’t want to burden her with more tiresome thoughts but knowing where they were supposed to go would make this whole ordeal so much more easier on him.

“I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore,” she mumbled to herself, her eyes fixed on the pavement as she staggered for a moment before clutching onto his chest to keep herself standing straight.

“I can’t take you home if you don’t help me out here.” Yamato pleaded with her softly, hesitantly resting a hand on the small of her back to make sure she wouldn’t stumble again.

“I don’t care where you take me, it doesn’t matter anymore. Nothing matters anymore.”

Mimi spoke in a voice that was barely above a whisper before she leaned her head against his chest and let her body go limp. While Yamato understood that the whole situation had drained her of all her strength, he’d still hoped that she would be able to stay upright till they reached her house. Instead, he was left having to get her on his back all by himself in the corner of a street without looking suspicious.

With great difficulty and after a few awkward eye contacts with passing strangers, Yamato managed to get Mimi safely tucked onto his back and began to make his way towards his apartment, which thankfully wasn’t a long walk from the neighbourhood they were in. He wasn’t sure if he should inform anyone that he was taking Mimi back to his place since she was in no state to get herself home safely because he had no clue if she still lived with her parents. He thought about checking with Takeru, but the whole conversation that that one question would lead to was something Yamato didn’t have any energy for presently.

So with the occasional huff and a few rest stops, Yamato managed to carry Mimi safely back to his small apartment. Once inside, he made straight for his room, glad about his neat freak tendencies since he could just lay Mimi down on his bed without a single worry. He tried his best to settle her on the mattress comfortably, arranging pillows behind her head, taking off her shoes delicately, and covering her with as many blankets as he could find. During all this, Mimi didn’t even flinch once, which in a way was a blessing since it made things less embarrassing.

After he was done bubble-wrapping her into comfort, Yamato glanced at her face. She looked like she had passed out from exhaustion, which was probably the case anyway. Her eyes were swollen, her cheeks were tearstained and tinted pink, the tip of her nose was as red as a tomato, her lips were swollen too from being bitten at carelessly, and her hair lay dishevelled around her face, in other words, she looked like a complete mess.

Yet, the sight of her ignited something inside of Yamato.

He stood there for a few minutes, just staring at her.

He vaguely remembered the first time they’d met at school, he hadn’t paid her much attention at the time. It was only when they went to the Digital World, had he started to notice her.

He’d always liked how easily she managed to gel with Takeru, the youngest one in the group at first, and how she always spoke to him as a friend on the same level, not as somebody older who was trying to assert themselves onto him, something Yamato himself was guilty of at many occasions. He’d always liked how much she cared about everything and everyone, so much so that sometimes those feelings spilt into impulsive or brash actions, but her intentions always remained pure and he’d always noticed that.

There was no denying, that the two had drifted slightly apart as they grew older, with Mimi moving to America and only visiting them once in a while. He always found it difficult to strike up a conversation with her when she’d come back from the States, he felt that nothing about his life here would interest her much in comparison. After they graduated from high school, she did try her best to stay in touch with each of their friends individually, sometimes Yamato would receive a message at midnight asking him about how his day had gone, which always threw him off guard. Lately, he had been lacking in responding to even the shortest questions she sent in, but that hadn’t stopped her from trying.

Now that he stood in his room, watching her chest rise and fall in a slow, tired rhythm, he regretted putting off replying to her messages. Maybe if he’d kept in touch regularly, he might have known about her time with Palmon being limited. Not that knowing about this could have prepared him any better for handling the situation, but still, at least she would’ve known that she could count on him to get through this.

Instinctively, Yamato's hand reached forward and he brushed a few strands of her hair away from her forehead, leaning his face down so he could get a better look at hers.

It would be a while before he’d be able to forget the sight of her sobbing alone in that dimly lit karaoke booth, but he still hoped that tomorrow when she woke up, her face would have the budding hints of her usual brightness, because he really could do with some sunshine and happy smiles in his life.

Shaking his head at the ridiculous thought, Yamato walked out of his room, quietly shutting the door behind him. He eyed his cramped couch with contempt before sighing in defeat as he didn’t have a choice. He tried to rearrange the two cushions on the couch into a headrest for himself, however before he could lie down, a flicker at the corner of his eye caught his attention. Yamato surveyed his living room carefully, trying to find the object that had disrupted his concentration but nothing stood out for a while. After a few minutes, just as he was about to give up on the idea of finding anything, he saw a flicker of light on the shelf that took over the opposite side of his living room.

Abandoning the couch, Yamato stepped closer to the shelf as the light appeared for a brief moment before disappearing again. The shelf wasn’t cluttered, there were a few photo frames with his family and friends featured on them, some books and a succulent or two. The light had appeared in the centre, so that’s the direction he leaned closer in. In the middle of the shelf was the photo of him and the other kids from their very first adventure into the Digital World, next to it was the harmonica his father had gifted him that summer along with his battered and broken digivice. Not even one of these items was capable of making the light he’d witnessed, Yamato thought, maybe it was just a trick the nightlights from outside the window had played on his eyes. But just as this thought appeared in his mind, it happened once more, and this time he was able to witness the source.

Yamato had kept his digivice out in the open like this because he knew that it was nothing but a piece of memorabilia for him now. The digivice had laid unresponsive on this shelf since the day Gabumon had departed.

And yet, tonight was different.

The minute Yamato fixed his gaze on it, the digivice lit up intensely in a shade that he knew was not meant to represent either him or Gabumon.

Yamato stood frozen in his living room, eyes wide with shock as a bright green glow surrounded his digivice.

Slowly, the light around the digivice dimmed, but to Yamato’s surprise, the digivice that had been lying rusted for days now looked as alive as ever, the only catch?

It had turned completely green.

- x -

[ambersky0319]

New Employee aquired today

My manager: Hey Grace maybe you can show NE some things, but don't overwhelm her

Me:

Me: so like. make sure it's not a repeat of my first day???

[of-nyon]

It was a grueling journey and many men died, but holy shit I have a visible floor

[retiredteabag]

soft Toji dog-sitting for a generous!reader

pt. 1 - pt. 2 - next

synopsis: Toji takes up dog-sitting for you and learns to appreciate his new job, in more ways than one.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

Time came and went with Toji’s frequent dog sitting. Despite the workhorse owner seemingly never being home, the dog appeared well cared for and happy.  The place became a second home for the man. On one particular 8:00 o’clock morning, he found a long note… and a hundred dollars.

“Mr. Fushiguro, we will be getting lots of rain this week, I can’t ask you to walk him like you usually would but if it’s not too much trouble, please just take him outside and let him go to the bathroom. I’ve got a raincoat in the closet by the garage, a towel for the dog, and umbrellas by the door, please utilize whatever. There are towels for you in the guest bath, I will do the laundry when I get home, please just toss them on the floor.” – y/n  

Toji had never seen a dog so thrilled to be out in the rain. A scoff shook Toji when he found the raincoat. There was no universe where it would've fit him. The dog bounded to the door and sat patiently for Toji to open the umbrella.

It had been painfully humid that day, the rain was torrential, and he was drenched, even with the umbrella. He normally wouldn’t use someone else's shower and he rarely ever did in his previous line of work.

Back then he learned that using his client's utilities gave them the strange impression that they were more than a couple bucks to him. He liked to avoid messes like that and preferred his own (much smaller) shower anyway.

Even so, when the dog and he made it back, the pristine floors and counters stuck out more than ever. He would have to be at the house for a while that day, he figured he should probably clean himself.

If it weren’t for the loving pooch, the place would look unlived in. It was strange to think that before Toji got there and after he left anyone occupied the space at all.

The shower had been better than he’d ever remembered having. He tossed the towels in the wash and waited around. Toji was making more and more, working back-to-back days and he had learned to expect the apology text,

“I’m so sorry, I won't be making it back tonight, can you stay till 10?”

Toji always responded by liking the message. Their text logs looked like a line of grey text with numerous “thumbs up” reactions.  

Eventually, the day came when he did not have a note on the counter. The first day where there was a sign of life in the house, a mess. The dog had been anxiously circling Toji when he arrived. Tissues on the counter, trash not taken out, fridge empty, and what really stuck out to him, no money.

Toji couldn’t care less about how the owner lived, but if he was promised pay, he expected pay. No matter how generous the owner had been in the past. He knew it had been an honest mistake when he texted for the first time in weeks.

“Hey. Dog looks good. Were you planning on going to the bank this morning?”

It took a while for him to get a response but when he finally did, they came in quick succession.

“Oh my gosh”

“Mr. Fushiguro, I am so sorry!!”

“I promise it wasn’t intentional, I’ll be back early tonight, don’t worry about feeding him dinner, I’ll Zelle you for today and tomorrow.”

He hadn’t been upset or anything. The owner had been more than lavish with their money, Toji has never been so flush with cash from so little labor. That thought was what caused him to respond,

“No worries.”  

Toji arrived the next morning and for the first time, was met with…. Nothing? Usually, the dog was quick with its futile tackle attempts. Not today I guess Toji thought.

Toji called for the dog and he came running; just not in the way he usually did. Toji noticed immediately, the whining, the huffing, the wiggling, and the ever-constant pushing at his thigh.

“What? What is it, boy?” Toji asks.

The dog let out a particularly loud cry and ran back to the master bedroom. Toji looked around the kitchen, the first room from the foyer he entered. No note on the counter. But what he did find was a half-full glass of water, a ramekin with a cocktail of pills, and an iPhone with a silent alarm on the lock screen. An alarm was set for 5:42. It was 8:17.

The frantic dog rushed back to find Toji at the kitchen counter with the phone in his hand. He whimpered, nudging Toji with his face. It didn’t take long for the dog to practically drag Toji by the pantleg to the master bedroom.

“What? What?” Toji was looking around the room to see what had the big guy so agitated. It would be a lie to say Toji hadn’t done some snooping around the house. He'd wanted to see how the lavish owner lived. It's fair to say that he had never seen the bedroom look so…disrupted. Toji came around the bed where a potentially human-sized lump lay under a pile that consisted of sheets, a blanket, and an exceptionally fluffy duvet.

                “Excuse me?” Toji knocked his knuckles on the dresser by the bed. Still not totally sure if there was life under all the pillows. “Excuse me.” He said, firmer. Toji raised his eyebrows when a long…noise… escaped painfully from the frump on the bed.

                “Hello? You paid me for today, you know?”

There was a shaky stretch he could see from under the fluff. Then, as though burned with a branding iron, the shape jolted up. Toji was struck by the view of the women before him. Screaming in shock.

                The dog began to whine again between Toji and the woman on the bed. You were making loud, unintelligible exclamations. The dog was licking at his paw.

                “H-hello???!” You were nothing like what Toji was expecting. But then again, he wasn’t sure what he had expected from the ghost that was the owner of this place.

                “Ms. y/n? You paid me to come today.” Toji had taken a step back, he was well aware that he was a frightening presence, especially for the seemingly young and unarmed woman sitting up in her bed.

                “Mr. Fushi-“ a cough “guro?!” your eyes stretched comically wide, and made to jump out of bed, but then you saw how close Toji was, and thought again, “I-I didn’t!” Your hands fly to your head, “Oh God….”

Toji stepped back a ways, he wasn’t sure what he should do or say. The women before him seemed… unwell, to say the least. Weak, for sure, cold too maybe.

                “But it’s….” You began.

                “It’s Friday, you paid me last night for yesterday and today, I can leave if you’d like, but I ain’t got the cash on me…”  

                “No, no, no!” Finally, you stumbled from your bed, seemingly no longer frightened by Toji’s looming form, you seemed flushed, and damp? Definitely unwell. “I-I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I let this happen, I swear I set an alarm…”

You spin around and almost slam directly into Toji's chest. Shrieking, you pulled back and stumbled on your own footing. In the same breath Toji grabs you by the shoulder and righted your center of gravity.

Hot. He thinks She was irregularly warm. He let go and stepped back.

There was once a time when a touch like that would mean nothing, but now, he feels unsure if it was the right move. This woman was nothing like his previous clients.

                “I’m so sorry! But… My phone…” Your eyes survey the desk by the bed. A thermometer sat idly by the lamp.

“I’ve got it here.” Toji waved the device before your eyes, “You left it on the counter back there.” He tilted his head toward the kitchen.

The meek women seemed to no longer fear Toji at all, snatching her phone quickly and moaning loudly. “Oh God!” You echoed.

You shuffle on your feet, unsure of which direction to turn, then finally decide to turn to Toji where he stands staring.

                “I- cannot. Apologize. Enough. Please, you stay here, I need to go, I am so late. I- Thank you, for taking care of my boy.” You were huffing. Stress welled in your form but you squeezed the sides of your temples and rushed to slip shoes on.

                “Excuse me.” Toji felt uncomfortable and out of place in this woman's presence but she was insane if she thought she could work in this condition. Not only due to her clear illness, but also, she was currently wearing a professional pair of flats, green and black oversized plaid pajama pants, and a thick black crewneck. “You… can’t work like this.” He made a face.

You look down at yourself. “Oh, I’m-I’m so embarrassed, and I’m sorry. I have extra clothes in the office, I can change there… I can’t believe this happened.” Your hoarse voice had scratched and faded significantly from the screaming you had done moments before. “Thank you, for waking me, and staying with the dog.”

                “Erm…No, I mean, you can’t work…like this” Toji’s hand motioned to rake over your appearance. Like Hello? You are not presentable. “You're sick.”

                “I’m-no! I’m on the recovery side. I’ll be okay.” You state, wobbling on your “recovering” feet.

                “I don’t think so.” Toji wasn’t trying to be pushy but it was laughable to think someone in your condition was anything but grossly ill. “I think you should call out.”

Your eyes jump at the thought. “I can’t, I’m sorry that this happened, I’ll be sure it won't again. I can't believe-ugh!”

Your exasperation was clear, and no, you were not recovering. You had come home last night beyond exhausted. You had left that morning knowing you were sick. You had left work early, (by 5:30) in hopes that sleep would help you body. But the exhaustion had overtaken you. You can recall taking medicine, placing some out for this morning, and then…. Flopping in bed.

Damn it. This was your fault. And after all the work you had done. The panic had settled into disappointment. And the large man that was supposedly your very attentive and efficient dog sitter was still in your bedroom. Staring at you. In your pajamas. Nice.

“Ya can't work like that. How about I walk the dog, you take the drugs you’ve got in that little cup and go back to bed.” He pauses and. Blood rushes to your face. He gives you a once over, “Maybe wash up.”

You were gonna kill yourself.

There were a million “no!” arguments that came to your mind but they were so jumbled in your fuzzy mind. Another reason for your self-induced frustration. The man was already walking out of your bedroom, your big dog in toe. Your boy!? The dog who hated everyone (especially men) but you?? He was leaving YOU for HIM? That was it.

You waddle back to your bed and flop face first into your pillow and wail. No tears come but the embarrassment and anger fill you so full you need it out of your system in some way.

Checking your (nearly dead) phone you find that it is nearly nine, you weren’t THAT late, this could work. But at the realization that you wouldn’t arrive until almost ten, and the sweat pricking at your neck, all the motivation to make it flooded from your bones. You work from home on the weekend anyway, if you went in today you would likely just humiliate yourself more.

You resigned yourself to the bathroom after taking some medicine, desperate to get yourself clean before the dog sitter returned.

Toji decided to take a slower pace on their morning walk. He had an odd feeling in his stomach. All he could that was that this dogs mom was not what he had expected.

It had become a game for Toji- to guess what the homeowner was like. A decrepit golfer with time for nobody but himself? An old, entitled maid, desperate to appear young? A middle-aged guy like himself, too busy trading stocks to feed his own dog?

Yet today proved that all of his ideas were wrong... you were younger than he had envisioned. You had big, full eyes and you had smiled so shyly while thanking him.

He hadn't meant to embarrass you but your face when he told you you were unpresentable just made him laugh. Your eyebrows knitting together, and your (already heated) facade seemed to rush with more blood. Your downcast gaze had lifted to show a pathetically self-deprecating smile. Toji laughed despite himself.

You had seemed small. But in the moment he had spoken to you, you had shrunk even more. No. Not what he was expecting at all.

And despite himself and his greed. He couldn’t help but hope that he wouldn’t be needed here for a little while.

It seemed like you needed to stay home for a while.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

pt. 3

[7ndipity]

He Forgets Your Birthday

Yoonig x Reader

Summary: You’ve always had a complicated relationship with your birthday, but Yoongi’s always there to comfort you. Until he isn’t.

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: angst, comfort, swearing, suggestive at the end

A/N: Thanks to @coffeedepressionsoup for this request, I hope you like it!

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

You never really liked your birthday.

For as long as you could remember, you could sense the looming feeling of dread and unease each year as the date drew closer. You don’t know what it was exactly, maybe it was because of how you were raised, maybe it was just a quirk of your personality, but whatever the reason, you could never shake the feeling of guilt, as if you were a burden to those around you.

Over the years though, you had been lucky enough to find a circle of people that, while they might not fully understand your feelings on the subject, made a point to make sure you felt special and remind you of how much they cared for you whenever that fateful day rolled around.

One of the best at this was Yoongi.

Yoongi had always had a particular knack for being able to read your emotions and understood your feelings about your birthday, he wasn’t exactly fond of his either, but that didn’t stop him from worrying whenever he noticed you growing more quiet and withdrawn as it approached.

He never pressured you to share what was going on in your mind in those times, but he always found little ways to let you know that he was there for you and to show how much he loved you.

It was never anything super elaborate; last year, the two of you just went to the movies, because he knew there was a particular film you’d been dying to see.

It never really mattered to you what you did though, so long as you were together, you were happy.

Though, time together had been rather hard to come by the past few months.

Yoongi had been busier than ever, traveling and working relentlessly in preparation for his new album. Most nights he was holed up at the studio til 2 or 3 in the morning working on songs.

You worried about him over extending himself, but he assured you that he had it all under control, that he was able to keep up with everything.

It was another one of those late nights at the studio as he sat hunched over his soundboard when the sound of his phone finally managed to break through his hyperfocus.

Glancing at his phone, he face pulled into a slight frown as he read the text notification from Namjoon.

“How’s Y/n?”

“Fine, I think. Why??” He sent back, confused by the random question.

“Idk, she just seemed a bit down earlier when I sent a happy b-day msg”

“Her birthday’s not till tomorrow-

”Oh fuck.” He swore out loud, checking the date on with a sink stomach as he realized his horrible mistake.

Jumping to his feet, he felt his heart drop again at the sight of the time on his phone screen.

10:02pm.

“Fuck.” He cursed again, nearly running down the hall to the elevators. He couldn’t believe he’d mixed up the days so badly. How could he have fucked up something like this?

Had you realized yet? Most likely, he hadn’t heard anything from you since your usual morning texts. You must’ve been so upset, how was he ever going to make up for this to you?

He practically ran up the stairs to your apartment, knocking frantically on the door and begging that you weren't so mad that you wouldn't answer.

As soon as you opened the door, he tackled you in a crushing bear hug.

“Yoongi, what-?”

“I’m so sorry, Y/n.” He mumbled into your neck.

“What are you talking about?” You asked.

“Your birthday.” He felt you stiffen slightly.

Pulling away to look at you, his heart broke further as he noticed the faint redness around your eyes.

“I got the days mixed up, I thought it was tomorrow,” He explained guiltily. “I’m so sorry, Jagi.”

You looked down, nodding slowly.

“It’s okay.” You said softly, voice still somewhat croaky from your earlier bout of crying.

“It’s not, though. I should’ve been here.” He said, growing more upset with himself.

“You’ve been busy, I get it.”

“That's no excuse,” He said. “I still fucked up.”

“It’s fine, Yoongi, really.” You said tiredly, wanting desperately to just forget the whole thing.

“No, it isn’t-” He insisted, gripping onto your hand as you tried to draw away.

“Yoongi, please.” The last word comes out far more broken than you intended it to, betraying your true emotions that you’d been trying to stamp down all evening.

Before you could help it, the tears you had been trying to hold back broke free, dripping down your cheeks and onto your joined hands.

Yoongi instantly pulled you to his chest, hugging you tightly as he backed the two of you into your apartment.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Jagi.” He whispered over and over, softly stroking your hair as your tears dampened his shirt.

After a few minutes once your sobs quieted, he pulled back to see your face.

“Are you okay?” He asked gently.

You nodded.

He led you over to the couch, still keeping you close as you sat silently for a moment.

“Are you angry?” He asked quietly.

You shook your head, biting your lip.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” He pleaded, his dark eyes boring into your own.

You thought for a moment, taking a deep, steadying breath.

“I know that you love and care about me” You began slowly. “And I know you would never do anything to intentionally hurt me, but… not hearing from you, not even getting a text or something… I don’t know, it just kinda stirred up those old feelings and thoughts of how easily I could be forgotten, what if people don’t actually like me, what if they just tolerate me in their lives...”

Your voice was almost inaudible by the end, not wanting to fully admit the deprecating thoughts that were going through your mind.

Yoongi teared up at your words. He knew he’d asked, but hearing you say it aloud broke his heart; to know he’d scratched those old wounds and caused you to doubt yourself crushed him inside.

“Look at me,” He said seriously, turning to face you. “Those thoughts? Nothing could be further from the truth. You mean more to me than anything in the fucking world. I know I fucked up today, but I need you to know that there is nothing that could ever make me forget about you. You are the first and last thought in my mind every single day. Understand?”

You nodded, wiping away a few more stray tears that had slipped out.

“C’mere.” He pulled you into another tight embrace, kissing your temple. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You muttered, tucking your face in the crook of his neck.

“If you want, we could still do something? Try and enjoy the last couple hours of the day, at least?” He offered

You shook your head. “I just want to be with you.”

He nodded, shifting around on the couch and pulling you onto his lap, holding you close.

“I love you.” He whispered again, running his soothing hands over your hips.

“I know.” You said, equally soft, cradling his face in your hands as you drew him in to connect your lips.

He kissed you deeply, trying to channel just how much you meant to him through the action, hands coming up to hold your waist, pressing you even closer.

He would never hurt you like this again, he swore to himself, pressing you closer to him. He would do everything in his power to remind you how much you meant to him every chance he got.

You sighed, looping your arms around his neck as you let yourself drift in the feeling of him all around you, the scent of his cologne, the soft sounds that left him as his lips drifted down the expanse of your throat, the way his hips twitched beneath you when you tugged at his hair.

Suddenly, he tipped you back on the couch, coming to hover over you, breathing unsteady as he stared down at you with an intensity that made you shiver.

“Happy birthday, Y/n.”

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @bo0o0o0ooo @universal-travel-er @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

[csuitebitches]

How to Handle Procrastination

Source: James Clear.

The Two Minute Rule by David Allen

- best for small tasks such as chores and smaller work tasks (sending emails, sharing feedback, etc)

- Small wins mindset

1. The two-minute rule aims to banish procrastination and help people accomplish small tasks.

2. Here’s what the rule says: if you can do an action in two minutes or less, tackle it at the moment — and don’t delay. This has the potential to deliver long-term benefits.

Temptation Bundling

- habit stacking method

1. Temptation bundling is a concept that came out of behavioral economics research performed by Katy Milkman at The University of Pennsylvania. Simply put, the strategy suggests that you bundle a behavior that is good for you in the long-run with a behavior that feels good in the short-run.

2. Only do (what you love) while doing (what you’re procrastinating).

Eg: only do (pedicures) while (answering work emails).

Only (watch your fave tv show) while (ironing your clothes).

The Ivy Lee Method

1. At the end of each work day, write down the six most important things you need to accomplish tomorrow. Do not write down more than six tasks.

2. Prioritize those six items in order of their true importance.

3. When you arrive tomorrow, concentrate only on the first task. Work until the first task is finished before moving on to the second task.

4. Approach the rest of your list in the same fashion. At the end of the day, move any unfinished items to a new list of six tasks for the following day.

5. Repeat this process every working day

[elusivecagedmockingbird]

Orbiting: pt.3°

: pt.1° | pt.2°

[icehockey!jungkook x figureskater!reader] [1.8k idiot fwb to lovers; mutual pining, TONS of smut, use of cock ring]

-

"Jungkook, you can't be serious," you're limping around your home following the cause of your headache.

"I am," he deadpans. He pushes your throw pillows on one side of the couch and plops himself in it. "Back to your room, Y/N. Or do you need me to tuck you in?" he teases with a grin.

Tired from the day and your ankle still throbbing with pain, you huff and retreat to your room. You don't bother closing your door.

"You coming?" You call.

A second passes. Then another. He didn't fall asleep already, did he?

A thud is heard from your living room. Then, Jungkook appears in your doorway.

Shirtless. You gulp, trying not to salivate. He knows he looks good; he doesn't need the boost.

"You're insatiable," he chastises, but at the same time, he's walking closer to you. "But you need to rest, babe." His hands softly rub your head, then tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

"It's not that. It's cold outside," you roll your eyes. "Can't have you getting sick, at least not until your game tomorrow. Your team needs their star player," you jest.

Jungkook only giggles, already claiming his side of your bed. The side that's always been his. Even before this whole friends-with-benefits thing, Jungkook always slept on the right side of your bed during sleepovers or when he needed to crash the night after a long practice.

You lived a bit closer to the rink—that was his excuse to the guys on his team when they teased him. Also, his mom agreed that it wasn't safe for him to be driving late at night, especially when he was already tired. Sure, she didn't know he slept in your room, but it was all 'platonic' then. The important thing was he was getting good rest. It really wasn't because of your warmth beside him in bed and that he found comfort in seeing you after an exhausting day that made him sleep better. Or so he thinks.

It's a tug-of-war when it comes to him admitting how he feels on certain moments.

"Hey, get your head out of the gutter, Jeon," you mimic his words earlier.

With a pout but round eyes filled with mischief, Jungkook retaliates with tickles. In a fit of laughter, you try to get him to stop, "Gguk.. my fo—ot."

"Oh, shit," he raises his hand to stop. "Sorry, babe."

Catching your breath, you throw him a glare, "You're lucky I can't tackle you." Jungkook responds with by nuzzling his head in your neck and littering pecks on your neck. "Go to sleep," he mumbles between kisses.

You let out a chortle, "You're the one wreaking havoc on my bed, Jeon."

He hums coyly in reply.

"Hey," you nudge his head on your shoulder,"Thank you."

Jungkook tilts his head and and kisses your lips. "Always," his voice soft, sleep slowly penetrating him. You let a minute pass until his breathing evens out, and then, slowly and very carefully, you press your lips to his forehead.

"Night, Gguk," you whispered.

-

You were a morning person. And from the moment you wake up at 6 A.M, you follow your routine to a T.

The alarm goes off for the second time and the clock already reads 6:13 A.M. Your hands struggle to reach your phone on the bedside table and it doesn't help that Jungkook keeps pulling your body further down the bed. Your hips are pinned with his tattooed hands, back arched from pleasure, and legs dangle on the edge of the bed.

Kneeled at the foot of your bed, Jungkook pushes his face deeper between your thighs. His warm tongue switching between sucking and flicking your clit. The lewd sounds of wet pleasure and your breathless moans echoes around your room, drowning the blaring alarm.

You plead for more. You want more. You need more. More pleasure, more of Jungkook. So, you grab his head and push him towards your sex while you buck your hips. Jungkook only groans in response. You can feel your orgasm nearing, but right before you unravel, he pulls away.

"Fucking insatiable." Jungkook licks his lips, tongue catching every drop of you, "And I love it." He stands, his hard cock springing and leaking, then reaches for something in your bottom drawer. But before his hand could re-emerge from the box, you already know what to expect.

Both of your breathing picks up, eyes meeting each other. You were the first to break away. Your eyes traveling down to where his hands are—one shamelessly pumps his dick and the other holds a vibrating cock ring.

With your good foot, you push yourself back up to the bed. "Good girl," Jungkook smirks.

"You gonna stand there all day or are you going to fuck me?" You taunt.

"Nah, I plan to wreck you, babe."

Cock ring in place around his dick, Jungkook aligns himself to your cunt. He's only a tip in and you can already feel the vibrations. Jungkook feels good, too. His brows furrowed, mouth hang open and quiet moans spill.

Truly insatiable and impatient, you pull Jungkook by his arms, "Wreck me. I want all of you, Jungkook."

The sounds your mouth and pussy make and the smell of sex permeating the air intensifies the pleasure Jungkook feels. He would love to start every day like now—buried inside you, your pussy clenching and sucking him back in every time he pulls out. Your whines grow pitchier every second, and Jungkook knows you're close. But he wants to prolong this moment, despite his cock throbs with want to release. So, he plunges deep into your pussy and stills. The cock ring still vibrates around his cock and sits perfectly in line with your clit.

Tears gather at your eyes and while you're always pretty, this look you have when you're being fucked dumb has to be one of Jungkook's favorites.

"Wanna cum," you plead. You're at each other's mercy, but it's Jungkook who drives you to orgasm—coming undone and moaning in unison.

The moment passes, and you both hiss at sensitivity from the vibrating cock ring.

"Wear my jersey to tonight's game, yeah?"

-

Loud sirens go off as the box opens, and the players run to the ice.

Your eyes are quick to scan the huddle, looking for the man with the 97 print on his jersey.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen," the announcer booms. "Welcome to the beginning of the hockey season. Now, Neil, who do you think will be our star player this season?"

"Easy question, Jack. I would place my bets on Jeon Jungkook. This kid is dubbed the golden maknae of their team and to outsiders."

You agree. Jungkook truly excels in everything he does. And while it may seem as if things come easy for him to strangers and mere acquaintances, no one sees the early mornings and long hours of work he put in to be the best.

"What a phenom. I've heard at least 3 NHL clubs would love to have him on their roster. Truly an incredible young athlete. And if you haven't seen him before, you're in for a real treat."

Goal after goal has been made within the past 50 minutes. On the ice, Jungkook glances at the bright scoreboard. It's neck and neck, and the crowd chaotically shouts. He hears their team name louder, he thinks. And he can't help but feel driven at the thought that one of those loud cheers of his name is from you in the stands.

"It's your shot, Jeon," his teammate shouts as they pass around the puck. Jungkook is terrible at multitasking, but as he dodges the opposing team trying to get the puck, he quickly peeks at the side of the bleachers where he knows you always sit. It's a brief moment, but he sees you—hair tied with green ribbons, their team color, and you're wearing his old jersey. He was right, too. You were screaming his name.

He smirks. Speeds up, and the rest happens in quick succession—Jungkook shifts his hockey stick to take the puck, glides it to the center, and makes a goal.

The cheers grow louder. Despite remaining seated among the jumping crowd, Jungkook was quick to find you again, and you made eye contact. He smiles and you blow him a kiss back.

-

Still high on adrenaline, Jungkook slams his hips behind you. His sulky mood earlier from not being able to fuck you in the showers turned a 180 because he's reminded how much he prefers this view, anyway. His hands pull at your braid while you're fucking yourself back into him.

A strangled call of his name leaves your mouth. He doesn't like that you're holding back your moans. Slipping his cock out of you, he holds your leg delicately and flips you within the tight space of his car, knocking the breath out of you.

Above you, Jungkook's abs glisten with sweat, and his tip slick with your arousal and his. You sit up, wincing from the discomfort from your foot, and pull him for a kiss.

He loves it when you get this eager and hungry for a kiss. It has him fucked. Not only does it make him rock hard but it has his heart constricting, too. It doesn't help that no one else has made a mess of him like this. And he’s not just talking about the mind-numbing, toe-curling pleasure he gets every time you have sex.

Years ago, he thought he made peace with the fact that all you could ever be was best friends. But ever since your arrangement, his desire for you grew. He didn't even think it was possible, but here he is a year later. His arm clung to your waist, laying you on his backseat cushion. Jungkook continues to thrust into you. He picks up his pace, and his eyes are glued to your juggling tits before he bends over, pushing his cock deeper into you, and attaches his mouth to play with your right nipple.

As he always does each time you fuck, he makes sure your pleasure comes first. If he can't be outright with his feelings, Jungkook secretly hopes that the way he fucks you—putting you first and taking care of you during and after sex, conveys his feelings and intention. And with every kiss you pull him in for, the unspoken words at the tip of his tongue would smooth over yours.

He would never deny that the attraction towards you has always been there, but he's not shouting it from the mountains either.

At least, not yet.

Plus, he thinks that if you really wanted more from your no-strings-attached arrangement, you would have said so. And he isn't that stupid to be the one who will bring it up, all because his heart and his dick is in-sync. He'll wait it out, he decides. Whether it's for his feelings to subside or for you to feel the same and beat him to confessing, you've always been braver of the two of you, anyway.

He'll wait.

For now, he's willing to give parts of himself that you want to take.

Jungkook's fingers squeeze in between your bodies, and it reaches your clit. Two fingers aggressively rub the hood of your clit while his thumb softly flicks at the nub. In a matter of seconds, you squirt. And Jungkook can't wait to drive you home and do it all over again.

-

>> Page 4

[seresinhangmanjake]

From Two to Four

Single Dad!Jake Seresin x Single Mom!reader

Summary: a trip to the movie theater with your son becomes more eventful when you meet a man and manage to save his daughter's birthday from being ruined.

notes: this is going to be a mini series from @rosiahills22 request :)

warnings: none.

Words: 841

----

PART 1:

Your arm is being yanked on but that isn't unusual. With the way your son is, you're surprised you've not had a trip to the hospital to have your shoulder shoved back into its socket. He's strong for his age, and with the handful he is already, you just know you're in for more surprises as he ages; ones you can only hope you'll know how to tackle on your own.

Jamie pulls you through small crowd after small crowd in his effort to make it to the treats. Only when you're in line does he drop your hand so he can press his nose against the glass shelf displaying every variety of candy he could possibly want. A sugar-high child was not in your plans for the day, but you refuse to dull his excitement.

"Mommy, can we get rainbow gummies?"

His voice blends with a sudden cry, and you turn your head to find a small girl leaning against one of the theater's decorative pillars. Her blue tutu is scrunched in her little hands, and the bedazzled tiara on her head is beginning to slip sideways. Softly brushing away her tears is a man crouched in front of her. He tries to right her crown as her finger shoots directly toward the large movie poster behind the man's head.

"Daddy!"

"I know, baby, I know. But it’s sold out," he sighs. "We'll come back tomorrow, OK? I'm sorry."

He stands straight and takes her hand, a look of utter heartbreak marring his handsome features when he begins to lead her past you toward the door. 

"Excuse me,” comes out of your mouth without a thought. 

When he pauses, the little girl nearly bumps into the back of his calf. His eyes meet yours, and the tenseness tightening his brow and the line of his lips soothes. 

“I don’t mean to bother you, but I have two extra tickets to the same movie if you want them."

A dark blond brow raises. “You’re going to see The Dragon Princess of Amethyst Mountain 2?”

“Well, the first one had such a gripping storyline." You chuckle at the amused expression on his face. “My son is with me,” you say and look behind you at the boy all but licking the glass case in anticipation. “Jaime, come here, sweetheart.”

Candy magically forgotten, Jamie bounds over to you with the widest of grins, stopping right beside you to stare up at the man.

“Hi!” he says loudly and clearly, with a certain confident authority only a four-year-old could possess. “I’m Jameson “Jamie”.

The man laughs. “Hi Jameson “Jamie”, I’m Jake, and this is Olive.”

Jamie’s eyes immediately go to the girl. His head tilts. “Like the snack?”

“Jamie, honey, don’t say–”

“Yea,” the girl pipes up, her tiny fist rubbing at the dried tears below her eye. 

Your boy's eyes light up, and you know what he's about to say before it exits his mouth. “I love olives!”

"Really?"

"Yep yep!"

Jake chuckles, releases his daughter's hand, and moves to stand beside you so he may join you in watching your children form an instant bond. 

"Just so you know," he says, leaning closer, "I didn't name my child after a food, intentionally."

You don't care what and why he named his child as you watch Jamie take an immediate liking to her. He needs a friend, and you've never seen him invested quite so quickly. 

"Hey, I don't judge," you reply, making the man laugh again. You're starting to like it. It's deep and husky and has an intoxicating element that wants to lure you into your own fit of giggles. 

"I'm Jake," he formally introduces, sticking out his hand for you to shake. You do so as you offer your name in return. "So how did you end up with extra tickets to the best movie in town?"

"I've got a sister who's a flake and a brother-in-law with a missing backbone," you say before clicking your tongue. "Which is a shame, honestly, because I think he really wanted to see it."

"Well, I hate to say I'm thankful for that, but you've just saved my daughter's birthday, so…"

"Daddy," Olive calls, her entire mood having taken a complete shift, "can we get rainbow gummies?"

"Sure, baby."

Jamie and Olive jump up and down, their hands tightly clasped together. Then your son hurriedly leads the girl back over to the candy case to show her everything she's about to enjoy.

"How old?" you ask.

"Four."

"So is Jamie."

As if on cue, Jamie looks back at you. "Mommy, and cookie dough bites?"

"Your boy's got a good appetite," Jake says, crossing his arms and nodding his head Jamie's way. 

"Oh, just you wait. He'll want–"

"And popcorn, Mommy?"

You snort. "See?"

Jake's eyes travel over your face, pulling forth a light blush that you can already feel heating your cheeks. His wide open lips display pearly whites, and there is a glint in his gaze when he says, "Well we better get them their snacks then."

---

A/N: More to come for this little series! I hope you liked it :)

tags: @wkndwlff @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @kmc1989 @oliviah-25 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792

[dqrciedaily]

baby arsenal headcannons, arsenal wfc x teen!reader

a/n: i am so so so sorry that this isn’t an actual fic but i’ve left yous without anything for like two weeks so take this 🥰🥰🥰

warning - this isn’t proofread so pls ignore any mistakes x

-

1. she is maths no.1 public enemy - literally will stare at her homework for two hours instead of actually trying it. then the next day at school she gets in trouble for not doing it but she genuinely couldn’t care less because she’d rather have them email lia than try do trigonometry

2. her tiktok reposts and twitter likes have fans speculating like there is no tomorrow - she’s definitely liked transfer rumours on twitter before as well as reposting things she shouldn’t be and she reposts things that happened way back way but people think it’s about her current situation, leading to some very concerned fans in her tiktok comments and instagram requests.

3. baby girl has stina and laura wrapped around her finger - she’s cold? stina’s gonna give her the jumper she’s wearing. she’s hungry? laura’s up to make her something to eat, even though maus is perfectly capable of doing it herself. they’re basically on her beck and call.

4. she always curses out players in german on the pitch - when she was younger her brothers taught her the art of cursing people out in german then speaking in english to confuse them. however this did not work when arsenal played chelsea and she went flying after a tackle from nüsken, who very obviously understands german, leading to maus getting a yellow.

5. which leads to the next point which is that she gets her fair share of yellows - giving katie a run for her money, although most of hers come from back chatting the ref and not from actual gameplay, although she isn’t afraid to put in a heavy tackle here and there.

6. her + kyra = little shits on steroids - on the first media day of the season they decided to put y/n and kyra in three of the same interviews, let’s just say absolutely nothing productive happened until caitlin had to come in to do an interview with the two of them.

7. she’s lia’s no.1 reason for her early gray hairs - firstly maus is awful at answering phone calls, so if she’s out with her friends and lia needs something best believe she cannot contact her. secondly the amount of emails the school sends her may send lia into overdrive, she genuinely couldn’t care less if y/n didn’t do her homework as long as she’s passing all her classes, which she is (besides math but lia doesn’t need to know that.)

8. y/n has the best outfits - her instagram feed is filled with mirror pics of her outfits and they’re all just so good!!! she’s known for her fashionable clothes throughout the woso community.

9. she gets really really really nervous when doing interviews by herself - she already refuses to do orals in school because they stress her out too much, so after her first full 90 for arsenal she gets called to do an interview and poor girl is swaying from side to side the entire time, stumbling over her words and overall looking like a deer caught in headlights.

10. the first time she brings a girl or boy home lia gets a group of the girls to pretend they’re over for dinner without telling y/n - so then when y/n gets home she sees most of her teammates there and very hastily shoves her ‘friend’ upstairs, before going over to the girls who all tease her. then when she’s upstairs in her room with her ‘friend’ they all take turns coming upstairs to walk past the closed door to hear what they’re talking about.

11. she is a hugger of note - the first time she meant all the girls minus her shy demeanour she hugged every single teammate she met. she is also a massive cuddler, on the team bus she makes ours sit in the window seat (much to the brunettes complains) then uses kyra as a pillow which 1. forces kyra to be quiet because she doesn’t want to wake y/n and 2. she can’t move around the bus as she wants deciding to annoy everyone which the other girls are very thankful for.

12. her first crush on a girl was laura freigang, who she had seen around the german youth camps before - she even told her parents at one stage that she was going to go to penn state just like lau did but that phase was short lived when she then developed a crush on one of her teammates in her age group instead.

13. in another life she’s a dj who lives in ibiza - literally no explanation needed, she truly is a party animal at heart and would go to all the festivals and raves possible during the off season.

[artwithteggy]

I've just wrapped up my biggest personal project ever - meet Freddy the Dilophosaurus! This journey started with modeling him in Blender, where I tackled learning how to slice the model into smaller, printable pieces. Then came the challenge of transferring the files to my new Bambu P1S printer. Printing took about 2-3 days.

The next step was assembling Freddy and filling in some gaps with gap filler. The final touch? Painting him over a span of 3 days. Now he's a majestic 50cm tall and 86cm long! My cat Teddy here for size comparison.

I'm planning to take him out to the rainforest tomorrow to celebrate this achievement. And if you're keen on creating your own Freddy, keep an eye out on my Cults3d store - I'll be uploading him soon!

This project was a huge learning curve for me, and I'm excited to apply all these new skills to my next venture - a Spinosaurus. Stay tuned!

[strqwberryfield]

jake sim - hugs

context: jake just returned to korea to suprise his beloved. at 2am.

contains fluffy fluff (based on a dream i had a couple of nights ago)

₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

it was around 2am. the home was quiet. rain bounces off the window. so quiet that if you drop a shampoo bottle in the shower, it would echo throughout the house. the day was saturday 5th january and jake's beloved girlfriend was sleeping soundly even though there was a missing presence. she did have some problems sleeping without him, her body slowly adapted and slowly filled the empty void.

that void was filled by sleeping in his basic clothes. even though y/n had perfectly fine clothes herself, she cannot help but put her stuff to the side and find comfort in the baggy clothes jake owns. the fluffy pillows and blankets surrounded and wrapped her body into a burrito, the soft linen scent followed by jake's cologne filled her nose. it almost felt like he was in the room with her.

earlier that day, they FaceTimed each other for around 1 hour until jake was needed for something. so their usual 5 minute farewells and "i love you's" were cut short. she did suspect something but she didn't want to mention or think further about the location the man was situated in, so she rubbed it off thinking it was either the green room where all the members were sitting in or his hotel room.

it was now 2:30am, and the girl was sound asleep. she wasn't informed that the trip to Japan ended one day earlier than it was scheduled. y/n was now slowly nearing the edge of the bed. one more toss or turn could possibly make her land on the floor. but luckily, the man she was so deeply in love with entered the home and quietly waltzed his way upstairs to tackle his girlfriend with his undying love. so as he opened the oak door to the shared room. y/n opened her eyes, and luckily she rolled away from the edge to sit up and see who was standing at the end of the bed. she quickly rubbed her eyes to get rid of any fatigue.

"jake? is that you?" she murmured, loud enough so he could hear."i thought you were coming home tomorrow?". the man laughed and replied with a "change of plans" a soft smile and eyes full of love is the face jake held at that moment. he was already in comfy clothes so luckily he could slide into the soft mattress y/n has been lying in alone for the last week. they quickly eloped in each other's arms, jake softly stroked the back of her head and kissed her forehead lightly whilst muttering softly "i love you" and praises that no one else but her has heard.

one more kiss on the crown of her head, jake tucks her head under his chin making her face his chest. sleep overtook him. the warmth his beloved was radiating along with the raindrops lulled him to sleep. he muttered an "i love you" for the last time until they wake up in each other's embrace again when the sun decided to greet them.

₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

a/n: first post!!!! yes, this was based on a dream 😭

[redroomreflections]

The Ghost in The Window Chapter 2

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: As a former child star and one-half of one of Hollywood's most powerful couples, you’re no stranger to the dangers of the spotlight. Life has just begun to settle for you as you navigate motherhood, marriage, and your career. When a fan-turned-stalker gets a bit too close for comfort, everything is turned upside down

Note: Uploading the WIPs too.

W/c: 5.9k

chapter 1

You awoke to the sound of a baby crying and crackling from the baby monitor on your nightstand. You adjusted your position in bed, lying on your side, peeking one eye open to view the screen. For just a few seconds you were hoping that Grace would fall asleep again. Of course, that would be too easy and to no surprise, she’s awake in her crib. You reach out a hand to feel for your phone, finding it under the bundle of blankets, to see it’s only six in the morning. You guess your day would be starting now. It doesn’t take you long to rush to the bathroom to relieve yourself and then make your way to the nursery. You stop at Rose’s bedroom to see her lying peacefully amongst a mountain of stuffed animals in her bed. You close her bedroom door again and leave her to sleep. At least one of you is getting that luxury.

You have Carla on standby when needed but you’d instead do all of this on your own. In the months between work, there’s always something to do. Motherhood was just one of them. It’s your favorite part and though it gets lonely without Natasha here you know she’s never too far away. You step into Grace’s bedroom, tapping the light switch to flood the room, while you grab her from her crib. She’s cuddly this morning as she lies her head on your shoulder.

“First, we get a diaper change, and then Mommy needs her coffee,” You narrate the entire day to Grace. You lie her atop the changing table, one you rarely use, as you quickly get her all cleaned up. “I know that was uncomfortable. I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.” Her whining dies down to slight sniffles as she looks up at you. She’s enamored by you and your speaking voice. She grabs onto one of the pacifiers lying near her head to press it into her mouth.

Once that’s settled you head down to the first floor where you find Mocha waiting at the kitchen doors to be let out. You unlock the french doors with one and open it wide enough for the Mocha to go and relieve himself.

Next, you try to put Grace in her high chair to free up your hands but she’s having none of it. Her cries of protest are heard, so you keep her on your hip as you prepare a coffee. Using a Keurig is an easy enough process, and you use it efficiently. Grace watches you for a little longer before deciding she’s ready for her breakfast. She tugs at the material of your tank top with chubby hands, hoping to free one of your breasts.

“Mommy’s trying to hurry,” You say. While you wait for the coffee to finish, you go onto the patio to place your planner and phone on the table. You’re honestly doing a lot for a relaxing morning at home. When the coffee’s done, you take extra care to keep it out of arm's reach of Grace. You sit in a cozy spot where you can see the view of Los Angeles from your backyard. The sun had only risen an hour ago and was already shining brightly. It’s a peaceful morning if you do say so yourself. You position Grace in your arms, shifting your tank top up, and wait for her to latch on. Her suckling is steady and strong. She’ll be occupied for the next twenty minutes. You crack open your planner, eyeing the next week's dates as you go over your schedule. You have an outfit fitting and a photo shoot tomorrow, a brunch with friends in two days, and a party that you’re throwing in a couple of nights.

It’s an end-of-summer party that you host annually. Friends and family all get together to celebrate various accomplishments and goals they’ve tackled throughout the summer. You’re honestly just ready for the fun to begin. You spend several months of the year working your ass off and you deserve to celebrate. You open up a notes page on your phone to go through the checklist you’ve been keeping for the past week. You’re having the party here at home so the guest list isn’t too big. Your house is big enough to fit about sixty people. Anything more and it would be bursting at the seams. There’s no real theme. However, you’re bound to call it a summer splash party or something. The invitations have been sent and RSVPs are coming back by the buckets. There’s also catering and a personal chef coming to bring food. When you said a small party you might be lying. This thing may turn out to be something more than you imagined it would be. Those usually turned out to be more fun.

You’re finishing up with your checklist just in time to switch Grace to your other breast. She’s content and happy as she fills her tummy. The next few minutes are spent in silence as you sip your coffee. You should think about breakfast. Natasha is coming home today and you wonder if she would enjoy something homemade or a restaurant meal. Rose loves IHOP and you’re sure neither of them would protest going to the family chain.

Speaking of Rose, the princess is awake, and a tad bit grumpy as she opens the patio doors to come and greet you. She curls into your side, her head on your arm, as she grumbles.

“Oh, is someone grumpy today?” You ask and she nods her head. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“Mama’s not here yet,” Rose frowns and you know the feeling. Life is always so much better with Natasha there. You brush her coils out of her face, her bonnet must have fallen off sometime in the night, to see her eyes. She pouts up at you and gets a little annoyed when you smile.

“You’re in luck,” You tell her. “We are going to pick Mama up from the airport in about an hour. I was going to go on my own but you’re awake so you can go too.” You offer and Rose smiles.

“Can we get her flowers?”

“I think that’s a great idea,” You say. “We can pick them up on the way there.”

It was settled. You would be getting Natasha flowers, picking her up from the airport, and then hopefully breakfast. In that order.

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

There’s only one small teeny tiny detail you forgot when it comes to airport runs to LAX. Don’t do them. It’s a confusing and congested airport with twists and turns you never believe. The traffic is always out of this world and you develop road rage at the mere idea of it. Times like now you forget you’re in a place of privilege where you could have utilized a driver to fetch Natasha. It sounds fancy but it’s useful. Though it’s too late now. You park the car in one of the visiting parking garages. You’re sure the paparazzi are somewhere inside waiting for Natasha or some other celebrity to make an appearance as they’re always conveniently waiting for you there. Despite the various rumors from many different sources, you don’t call the paparazzi on yourself. You think it’s inauthentic and a bit dumb. It’s a complete lack of privacy that you’re not willing to participate in. Especially when the kids are involved. Grace has been left at home with Carla while you’ve made an event of your time with Rose. She enjoys being the star of the show anyway.

You help Rose out of the car, holding onto her hand tightly as you grab the bouquet of rainbow roses in the other hand. The walk to the baggage claim isn’t too far. Rose’s little legs struggle to keep up but she doesn’t complain one bit. You receive a text from Natasha letting you know she landed. You send her your love and a reply that you’re here waiting for her. You wait in a corner together where no one will bother you. You push the sunglasses you’re sporting further up your nose as you watch Rose play a game of pretend hopscotch in front of you. She’s wearing matching sunglasses that you think are utterly adorable on her. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see someone trying to sneakily record. When you look in their direction their device is put away. You offer them a small smile though you would like to do anything but. Perks of the job you guess.

“Rosie, look,” You instruct the four-year-old when you catch a glimpse of Natasha further down. Rose’s head shoots up, unable to see from her vantage point, and so she comes to stand next to you again. You point, handing her the roses to take Natasha. Rose’s entire face lights up when she catches sight of her. Natasha waves and smiles widely when she spots you. She opens her arms wide and kneels to catch Rose when she runs to her. They’re wrapped together in a tight embrace for a few more seconds. Natasha takes Rose in her arms, transferring her to her hip so that she can come over and hug you. It feels good to have her in your embrace. She looks good and smells expensive. It’s a funny thought but everything about her makes you happy.

“Hi,” Natasha greets you with a peck to your lips. “How are you?”

“Good. Everything’s fine,” You smile.

“Mama, we got you flowers see,” Rose holds up the bouquet so that it’s directly in Natasha’s view.

“I see,” Natasha takes the flowers. “I love them so much. Thank you for thinking of me.”

“You’re welcome,” Rose looks around. “Can we go get food now? My tummy is rumbling a lot.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” Natasha reaches behind her for her bags. It’s only a few suitcases so you help with the other ones. You walk side by side towards the parking garage. “Hey, Rosie, put your sunglasses down,” Natasha instructs and she does as told. Upon exiting the airport, you’re met with the flashing lights of the paparazzi cameras. Leave it to you to forget to ask for your bodyguard to tag along. Sometimes you conveniently forget that you’re a well-known person and that privacy is a luxury. Natasha holds Rose closer to her as she follows you to the car. Rose goes in first, Natasha helping her with her seat buckles, while you toss the bags into the truck. Overall you’re able to ignore the badgering and borderline inappropriate questions. You climb into the driver’s seat and take extra care to pull out of the parking spot.

“I don’t like those men,” Rose says from the backseat. “They’re always yelling and they are not nice people at all. Right Mama?” She looks for Natasha’s approval.

“That’s right they’re not nice people,” Natasha agrees. “Now do you want to eat at home and get delivery or do you want to go to our favorite restaurant? It’s up to you.”

“IHOP!” Rose cheers. It won’t take you long to get to your destination. If you didn’t count an hour as long. For LA traffic it truly isn’t a long time. You and Natasha have considered moving back to her hometown of Cincinnati. It would be much quieter and way easier to live in. It’s something you’ve thought more about in recent months. No, you’re not ready to give up your career and the perks that come with it. Though you’re always thinking of the girls' safety and happiness too. Rose’s school is here. Her friends, your friends, and your community is here. It would be a big change. A change you’re simply not ready for yet. As much as Natasha wants to leave, you don’t think she’s ready for it yet either.

IHOP is pretty deserted at this time of day. It’s a weekday and everyone would either be working or had something better to do. This was a great opportunity for you to have a family day out. Rose couldn’t contain her excitement as she hops out of the car to hold Natasha’s hand. She practically drags the redhead into the building of the place you frequent. Though there are places with finer dining that is maybe more expensive that you can’t deny her the simplicity that is IHOP.

When you reach the entrance you’re met with a semi-familiar face. You can’t pinpoint it right away but when she introduces herself you understand now.

“Hi, for three,” Natasha requests and she nods. You follow the young girl to a corner of the restaurant where an open booth is. Rose takes the inner area and Natasha slides in after her. You take the other side, crossing your legs, before narrowing your eyes.

“Have we met somewhere before?” You ask and the girl grins from ear to ear.

“We have,” her ponytail bounces whenever she speaks and now you can see that she can barely contain her excitement. It wasn’t something out of the ordinary for you. “I’m Carissa. WildeLover04 on twitter. We’ve met a couple of times now.”

“Oh, wow,” You remember now. Her face has now been engrained in your mind. “You work here?”

“It’s my first week,” She confirms. “I heard the tips over here on this side of town were good. So I applied and got the job on the spot.”

“Mommy, I’m hungry,” Rose reminds you. She taps a picture on the menu to signal she wants pancakes and she’s not willing to wait for a second longer.

“Well, Carissa, congratulations and it’s very nice to meet you,” Natasha adds to the conversation.

“Thank you,” Carissa takes out her pen and pad. She must have forgotten her script because a few seconds later she’s scolding herself. “Right, sorry, silly me. Can I get you guys started with something to drink?”

“I’ll have a coffee, black,” Natasha requests and she looks to Rose for her request.

“Orange juice, please,” Rose chimes in.

“She’s so well-mannered,” Carissa comments as she scribbles down the order. She waits for you to say yours.

“I’ll take a water, thank you,”

“Okay, great, take some time to look over the menu and I’ll make sure to bring those drinks right out to you,” She promises and walks off with a beam.

You wait until she’s out of earshot before turning back to Natasha.

“That girl is like a super fan of mine,” You inform her. Natasha seems interested enough. You give her the entire rundown of everything with Carissa and how big of a following she has.

“Do you find it weird that she works here?” Natasha tilts her head.

“Hmm, no, maybe a little,” You’re not too sure. “It’s not like she would have tried to work here to only see me. I’m sure other public figures come and eat here all the time.”

“She’s a bit awkward but seems harmless,” Natasha shrugs. As long as she remained respectful there should be no problem.

Things are smooth sailing for the rest of breakfast. Rose gets the jr pancake combo that comes with confetti sprinkle-covered pancakes. You get french toast and Natasha gets chicken and waffles. You eat from her plate and she’s all too willing to share. Carissa hovers a little but you just write it off as her being a good waitress. You leave her with a hefty tip and give your goodbyes to the rest of the staff that you’ve come to know. You stop for the bathroom first when you bump into her again. Natasha and Rose head to the car to wait for you. It’s a quick trip and you’re about to wash your hands when she comes in. You give her a polite smile and proceed with your hand washing. She’s on her phone and she’s texting a mile a minute. Suddenly, she looks up at you.

“Hey, um, this may seem weird,” She comes across as shy though you’re beginning to think she’s anything but. “I sent you a bear. I have a friend that works at CAA and I was wondering if you received it. I know you sent a tweet for thanks but I just wanted to make sure Rose liked it.”

“Oh, yeah, I have it. I usually try to keep everything that’s sent to me,” You look at her through the mirror.

“Great, I’m glad,” She looks at her watch. “Thank you for being so nice about everything. I know I’m coming across as creepy. I’m just really happy I got to meet you and everything.”

“No problem,” You say. You think it’s a bit of an awkward conversation to be having in the bathroom. “It’s so nice that you’re so normal. I’ve met a lot of people that don’t keep their cool when meeting me.”

“No, I’m totally chill,” Carissa promises. “I’ve met a lot of celebrities before but you’re my favorite.”

“Thank you,” You take the compliment. “I have to go now but thank you for the kind words.” You slip past her and take the exit. You meet Natasha and Rose in the car. You slide into the driver’s seat again and it’s time to head home.

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

When you arrive home, Natasha keeps the girls occupied while you go for a quick nap. You’re still thinking about Carissa and the conversation you had with her when you get to your bedroom. You reach for the bear that’s been tucked in a corner of your bedroom until now. You checked it for cameras or a mic upon receiving it but now you’re a little paranoid. You don’t want to assume that Carissa has ill intentions but you can never be too sure.

“Everything okay?” Natasha asks as she steps into the bedroom. She eyes the bear and you.

“Peachy,” You take the bear, inspecting it for any unusual stitchings or holes, only to find none. Maybe you’re overreacting. This time you stuff it in the back of your closet where it will stay for the near future.

“What’s that about?” Natasha leans against the dresser with her arms folded. She watches as you stuff the bear into the back of the closet where neither of you can see it.

“It’s nothing,” You shake your head. She probably wouldn’t believe you if you said it.

“Okay,” Natasha takes your word for it. On your way out of the bedroom, she reaches a hand out to catch your arm. She tugs you into her, wrapping her arms around your waist, to keep you there. “I haven’t kissed you today.”

“We kissed at the airport?” You remind her and Natasha plays coy. “I’m sure there are dozens of paparazzi pictures and fan edits to show you.”

“I don't know it’s been so long I’m forgetting what it's like,” She shakes her head and you chuckle. You decide to refresh her memory in another way. This time by leading her to the bed where you gently push her down. She sits with a happy expression on her face. She gives your body a once-over, and the wanton look sends chills down your spine. As you lean into her, you move to straddle her lap, directing one of her hands to your bottom. The first kiss is innocent enough. Short and sweet. A reacquaintance if you will. The next kiss is a little more passionate. A little more heated and definitely a lot more tongue. You breathe through your nose as best you can, letting out a little moan when Natasha bites your bottom lip, and you get lost in the kiss.

“My eyes, they’re burning,” Rose interrupts your makeout session. She covers her eyes with both hands and walks blindly over to the both of you. “No hands in naughty places.” She warns the both of you and you laugh at her words.

“That’s right, Rosie,” Natasha agrees. She moves her hand to a more respectable place. Before either of you realize what’s happening, Rose is pushing you from Natasha's lap to sit.

“I forgot I’m not the only woman in your life anymore,” You roll your eyes in fake annoyance.

“Mama, guess what?” Rose says.

“What?” Natasha plays along. “You got a new doll?”

“Nope,” Rose shakes her head.

“You grew another arm?” Natasha uses her strength to flip Rosie around to search for a new arm.

“No, Mama,” Rose giggles. “I got a hideaway in my room. Want to see?”

“I’d love to,” Natasha allows her to slip from her lap before following her.

“C’mon, Mommy, you too,” Rose toddles back to you to pull you to a standing position. You both walk with her down the hall to her bedroom. Rose’s bedroom is every little girl's dream. At least it was the dream bedroom you wanted when you were younger. It’s a soft pink whimsical-themed bedroom with a twin-sized sleigh bed. Her toys are lined up along her window seat rather than in her toy box. Rose’s bed is made up courtesy of Carla and it’s pretty neat. On one side of the bedroom, she has a tent that she plays in more often than not. There’s her dresser, her closet filled with many dresses and tutus, and her new hiding spot.

It’s a crawlspace. Nothing too huge. Not big enough to be considered an extra room. The walls are the same color as the bedroom. You had a contractor and electrician come to install lights and ensure the room was safe for her to be inside. There’s a mini chandelier-type light that Rose picked out herself. A sleeping bag, some of her toys, and a blanket inside. Natasha crawls in first and then you. You both fit comfortably along with Rose.

“This is really nice,” Natasha looks around. There’s a chalkboard wall behind her and it’s already filled with plenty of drawings from Rose. “I think your new space is fit for a princess.”

“Thank you,” Rose shuffles around her toys to sit. “You’re not too big either, Mommy.” Rose gestures to both of you.

“Nope,” You nod.

“I don’t know Rose this is a whole house,” Natasha pokes her. “Can I move in? Are you going to charge me rent?”

“No,” Rose laughs again. “No grown-ups allowed or even boys.”

“No grownups? Mommy and I are grownups? Can we come in,” Natasha tilts her head?

“Y-yeah but not when the door is closed. That means privacy,” Rose sets the record straight. “And no boys because I don’t have a brother. I want one though.”

“You want a brother?” You raise a brow. This is the first you’ve heard of this.

“Yes, I need a brother so he can teach me how to skateboard,” Rose reasons. She crosses her feet at the ankle and tells you all about why brothers would be nice. “But he can’t live here with us. He can live somewhere else and just visit. Like Peter.”

“There it is,” Natasha nudges you. “She only wants a brother to bend to her every will.”

“At least she knows,” You comment.

“Can we have a tea party now?” Rose suggests. She sits up and begins to rearrange her toys again to make room. There was never a dull moment with her.

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

The next morning is even more hectic than before. You woke up late, completely Natasha’s fault and if she denied it you’d remind her of her insatiable habits. Next, you forgot to pump so you do it in the car on the way to the photoshoot. Roxy talks to you about a campaign she has coming up where she thinks the entire family could join in. You’re about to decline but it doesn't sound like a bad idea.

“It’s for The Children’s Place,” Roxy gives the details. “It won’t be a huge campaign. They have a family collection coming out. The girls would be featured but it wouldn’t be a huge thing.”

“Hmm, I’ll have to run it by Tasha,” You shift uncomfortably. Though pumping wasn’t painful it wasn’t a walk in the park either. You preferred to breastfeed Grace. “You know Rose will let the fame get to her head the first chance she gets.”

“I love that girl,” Roxy laughs. “Did you do anything fun yesterday?”

“Other than have mindblowing sex with my insanely hot wife?” You offer just to gross her out and her reaction doesn’t disappoint.

“I can’t blame you because I did the same,” Roxy shrugs. "Not with your wife. My wife." Roxy laughs and you join in.

“We went to IHOP for breakfast with Rose. There was an interesting interaction with a fan who works there. Carissa.”

“The one that sent you the bear?” Roxy recalls her name.

“That’s the one,” You nod.

“I’ve been keeping track of her account,” Roxy says. “She’s a total fangirl. It’s disgusting.”

“She didn’t seem like the crazed type the few times I’ve talked with her,” You think it over. “Well, not more than usual. She does seem a tad bit obsessed but…”

“As I said I’ve got my eye on her,” Roxy shakes the phone in her hand. “Isn’t that right, Sonny?” Roxy looks to the front seat where your bodyguard, Sonny, is looking out of the window.

“Absolutely,” He replies stoically. He’s always so serious.

“Anyway, are you coming to the party?” You ask Roxy.

“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss a Romanoff-Y/Ll/N party for the world,” She locks her phone.

“It’s a date,” You release yourself from the shackles of the breast pump while managing to keep your modesty. You ensure the containers are closed before stuffing them into the cooler you’re keeping inside the car. Now you’re ready for the photoshoot.

The photoshoot lasts for about five hours. Your schedule is jam-packed for the day with costume fittings, hair and makeup, and the actual shoot itself. You’re beginning to feel fatigued with the entire process but you know you have to push forward. Anything to make the time go by faster. You’re also scheduled for an interview with USWeekly which is the point of this entire thing. You’re seated in a chair, dressed in an extravagant nightgown, with fuzzy pink slippers on your feet, and Darcy by your side to fix your makeup. You pay as much attention as you can to the interviewer Samantha Daily as she shoots off questions.

“Do you ever get used to being a celebrity?” She asks and you pause.

“No, I don’t think you do,” You answer honestly. “At least for me. There are people that exist that live for the fame and lifestyle and I think Natasha handles it all quite well. As for me, while I enjoy it, fame was never something I was chasing. It’s always been about the craft and the entertainment industry as an art. So, no, I’m always kind of surprised when people know me. It makes it harder but having discernment and understanding what celebrity means also helps a lot.”

“I know as a celebrity there are a lot of crazy rumors,” Samantha inquires and you bob your head. “What’s the craziest rumor you’ve heard about yourself?”

“Hmm, I think each decade there’s a new one,” You genuinely try to think which one is the craziest. “When I was a young teen, you know I had a lot of trouble finding myself and navigating the fame, I was never, you know, wild or disrespectful, but I had my moments. Back then there was one rumor that I lost my virginity on a casting couch. Which implies a lot of things that don’t even describe my character or my personality. It just was not factual and also not something I would have ever thought about doing back then or even now as an adult woman. It was a rumor put out by an actress that lost out on the role we both auditioned for. I mean, she’s apologized since then, but it followed me around for a while. Um, when Natasha and I first began dating people would make up different places where they saw us having sex. Which is inappropriate as rumors tend to be. I’ve heard a lot of ridiculous things. A lot of them involve sex. In our early twenties, we were seen as wild sex symbols that everyone wanted to get a taste of. So I could see where it would come from but a lot of it was just hearsay and it’s very hard to steer away from those types of things when it's out there.”

“That is very unfortunate that young women in the industry have to go through that,” Samantha sympathizes.

“It is and I’m glad now we’re having conversations and you know bringing these things to light,” You agree. “You know being in some of these rooms and knowing that that’s what people think of you is disheartening. They’re not paying attention to the work and they only consider you a body to lust after. It’s dehumanizing.”

You and Samantha discuss a little more off the record before you have more questions.

“Now, I want to pivot over to success,” Samantha begins. “What would you say is your biggest accomplishment?”

“Hmm, I figure I can say something cliche like motherhood,” You toy with the idea. You stop speaking when Darcy needs to give you touch-ups. “I think it’s a different kind of success that is only considered great if you see it that way. I love my children. I love being a mom. They’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. I was intentional with motherhood, how I wanted to raise my girls, and how I wanted to be. So the accomplishment for me lies in raising well-rounded and emotionally intelligent humans who have compassion for others and their surroundings. I think that right now they’re so young, I can say that Rose is so polite and so sweet. She’s a joy to have around and she’s helpful. Career-wise, my recent Emmy win was amazing, I got to record an album as a teen. I think every single thing I’ve done has been fulfilling and I wouldn’t say one thing is bigger than the other.”

“That’s a great answer. I love that answer,” Samantha writes your words down in her notebook. The rest of the interview pretty much goes like that. She’s a great interviewer and knows how to get the correct information from you. She isn’t pushy or invasive, and you love her for that. Before you know it your time is up, and the shoot is over. You’ve got some good shots, and you’re sure you’ll be seeing the results in a few months.

For now you could go home and cuddle iwht your babies.

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

A brunch is always an event with you’re with your friends. You’re in a fancy restaurant and having adult conversations with the people you love. It’s been months and maybe even a year since you’ve seen some of the beautiful faces. All of you are at different points in your careers and life and it’s exciting being able to catch up. Wanda Maximoff, a punk rock star, and actress has just ordered her first drink of the morning. You’ve been friends with her since childhood when she played your best friend on your breakout tv show Better Days. Monica Rambeau is a college friend and celebrity hairstylist so you see her quite often. Carol Danvers is a celebrity fitness instructor. Maria Hill is currently a top exec at Netflix. Your lives all surround the entertainment industry though it’s often the last thing on your minds when you meet.

Today the topic is sleazy men and dating. Something you can’t quite add to as you’ve been out of the dating game for six years now. You listen and add input whenever someone questions you but overall you’re happy to be there.

“I think Vis is going to pop the question,” Wanda confesses and you all look at her. She traces a ring around the rim of her cup.

“Why don’t you sound happy about that?” You ask. You know Wanda’s moods and you know her like the back of your hand. You thought she would be more enthusiastic about it. All eyes are on her now as you wait for her to answer.

“I don’t know,” Wanda frowns. “I just don’t think we’re at that point yet. I thought dating older men things would be different. We’ve been together for two years now. I haven’t really thought about marriage to him. Which says something right?” She looks to you for answers and you weigh the options. “I have been struggling with it for a while. He has been hinting at it and I just…I can’t for the life of me understand why it doesn’t make me happy. I want a married life. Kids, a family, nice house. I do love him. I do.”

“I think your feelings are valid,” Carol nods. “Have you ever sat down with him and talked through how you’re feeling?” She steals a fry from Monica’s plate.

They all go over various reasons for Wanda’s hesitance. You on the other hand don’t say anything. That is until she asks.

“Y/n, what do you think?” She waits patiently for you to speak. You would rather not in case she’s not ready for your analysis.

“Wanda,” You start off slowly. “I have watched you with Vision for a while. He’s a great man. Lovely producer. I’ve also watched you with several other men in the past.”

“You’re calling me a whore?” Wanda raises a brow.

“In so many words she kind of did,” Maria sips from her cup. The rest of the group laughs.

“No, no, I’m not calling you anything,” You point the finger at Maria. “I am saying I’ve seen you with men and you never seem as happy with them as you could be. There’s always something holding you back. Which could be a fear of commitment on your end or I know you dabbled a bit in college but have you ever considered that you may actually be attracted to women.”

There’s a moment of silence as everyone takes your words into consideration. That is possible.

“I don’t know if it’s a fear of commitment,” Wanda shrugs. “Maybe we can talk a bit more about the second thing at a later date? I don’t think that’s something I can explore like now.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” You promise. “For now think about whether or not you want a life with Vision and how you want that life to go. We’ll be here either way.”

“Amen,” Monica raised her glass. “Now, about this party. Y/n what should I wear?”

“The party is in two days and you don’t have an outfit?” Your mouth drops open. “Monica what are we going to do with you.”

“Buy me an outfit,” Monica quips.

Brunch with friends turned into shopping with friends and you found yourself an outfit that might be better than the one you chose. You spend time with Natasha and the girls and everything is alright at home. Life is good for you.

On the other side of town, a series of tweets by Carissa is put out into the world.

@Wildelover04: Y/n and Natasha are hosting their annual summer party in a few days. I can’t wait to see everything.

@Wildelover04: Just got a new gig for this week. Can you guess what it is?

@Wildlover04: I’ve met y/n again and she was so lovely. Rose and Natasha are adorable too.

*** added is a picture of Natasha and Rose with their backs turned at IHOP.*****

----> next part

[newtonsheffield]

I can’t get the image out of my head of Blushing all the way Home Kate sat next to her Grandfather at Anthony’s Harlequins games. Kate wearing a Harlequins scarf in support of Anthony and Poppy Sharma with his arms crossed wearing a Leicester Tigers Jersey and Scarf.

“He’s very talented, your Anthony.” Poppy Sharma huffed as Anthony tackled a Bristol Bears player by himself, the impact nearly audible from their seats. “I’ll give him that.”

Kate chuckled, “Wow, that sounded painful for you, Poppy.”

Her grandfather looked affronted. “I like Anthony. You know I like him. He’s a good man, he’s good for you.”

Kate nodded, clapping for Anthony as the play reset. “He could get you a Harlequins Scarf, you know. It would mean a lot to him.”

“It’s the most painful thing in my life, Katie. Your Anthony playing for this team. I’ve been a Leicester supporter for 56 years, I’m not stopping for him.”

She knew there’d be pictures of them everywhere tomorrow. It had become something of a joke online. Poppy steadfastly wearing his Leicester supporter’s gear, standing to cheer for Anthony’s brother in law when he took Down Anthony himself 2 metres before the try line. Anthony himself played into it, Posting photos of the two of them together after the matches

I’ll win him over one of these days.

“You could convince him to transfer to Leicester you know. Basset could make for him in the locker-room I’m sure. I could cheer for him then.”

“Poppy,” Kate rolled her eyes. “This was Anthony’s Dad’s team. His career started here and it’s going to end here as well.”

Poppy gave nod of begrudging respect. “Well, he’s loyal. I respect that I suppose.”

“He’s got you a Ticket to the England Scotland game next month.”

Kate saw the shift in him, his eyes widening, “Has he?!”

“Of course.”

“In the box, or the side line?” Poppy gasped.

“He knows you prefer sideline.”

Poppy gasped excitedly, “I’ll pay him for them.”

“Don’t be silly, they’re a gift. You’re with the rest of the family.”

“Well, I look forward to it.”

Sure enough, Poppy settled next to Kate a month later, his coat bundled tightly around him just as it had been the entire journey there.

“Why do you still have your coat on?” Kate narrowed her eyes at her Grandfather, suddenly suspicious.

“It’s chilly.”

“You never wear your coat, you unbutton it so everyone can see who you’re supporting.”

Poppy shrugged, an innocent look on his face “Ah well.”

“If you are wearing a Scotland Jersey under there just to spite him I am not bringing you anymore.”

She only grew more suspicious when he started to fidget in his seat as the crowd started to thrum with energy as the teams stood in the tunnel. And panic rose in her chest as Anthony started leading The English team onto the pitch and Poppy stood in his seat.

“Anthony!”

“Poppy what are you doing?!”

“Anthony!” Poppy hollered again and it caught his attention this time, Anthony turning in his direction. And finally Poppy took off his coat to reveal an England Jersey, Anthony’s number emblazoned on it, his name stretched across the back.

Anthony’s face lit up, grinning as he pointed, applauding with the crowd laughing around them.

“Well then.” Poppy huffed settling into his seat and taking the red scarf from the pocket of his coat. “I’m looking forward to being able to enjoy your Anthony being an absolute bloody unit tonight.” He cleared his throat, “Get em Anthony!”

Kate rolled her eyes, kissing her grandfather’s cheek. “He’s going to be so excited.”

And sure enough there’s a series of images on Anthony’s instagram the next day. Poppy standing proudly in the stands, a photo of himself grinning as he pointed and one of the two of them on the pitch at the end.

We’ve got Poppy Sharma boys!

[ghostiexe]

Hello! Could you write some angst about missing Wilbur cause of his touring, but then he comes back and you get to finally see him again and its all fluffy?

Ty<3

yeah of course :D wordcount: 825

You haven’t seen your boyfriend, Wilbur, in months. 

Okay, scratch that, you have seen him. On FaceTime, on Instagram, little clips of him singing on Twitter. Old VODs you’ve been listening to so you can fall asleep.

You’ve seen him, but it’s not enough. You want to hold him, to be held. You want to fall asleep with him on the couch watching movies, and listen to him sing. Not to the crowds, not with his band. The kind of half singing, half humming he does whenever you’re having a hard time falling asleep, or when you’re having a bad day.

You don’t realize you’re crying until you feel the tears dripping onto your hand, and you look down at them blankly, sucking in a deep breath when you realize you’d been holding your breath. 

You glance to the other side of your bed, frown deepening when the sight just reminds you that Wilbur isn’t there. You sniffle and climb out of bed, glancing at the clock and groaning. It’s only like 11:00AM, and Wilbur isn’t meant to be back until 2:00PM tomorrow. You’ve been counting the days since the moment he boarded the plane two months ago, which… probably hadn’t helped you feel less lonely, but at least he would be back soon. 

You sigh and walk to the closet, rummaging through it until you find one of his jumpers, slipping it off the hook and burying your face into the soft material. 

The jumper is probably years old, honestly, and you’ve only seen Wilbur wear it a couple times. It’s thin, with loose threads and what seems to be cat hair stuck to it. You can’t help but chuckle at the sight, then walk back to the bed and sit at the edge of it, grabbing a pillow and stuffing it inside the jumper. You should probably be up and ready for the day at this time, but you don’t really care. It’s not like you have anything you need to do. 

You figure that it’s fine to wallow in your loneliness for a couple more hours.

You flop back onto the bed and roll onto your side, curling yourself around the pillow and burying your face into it, shutting your eyes and squeezing it in your arms. After a minute, you lift your head slightly and grab your phone from where it’s resting near your hand, connecting your Bluetooth to the small speaker on Wilbur’s nightstand, pulling up one of his random podcast episodes and pushing play.

You fall asleep eventually, listening to Wilbur ramble about bugs and little ecosystems. 

–

You wake up a couple hours later to the feeling of the bed dipping, and you mumble incoherently to yourself, rubbing your eyes and starting to sit up. You feel a hand slip into your hair and a hand press against you, gently pressing you back down onto the bed. “Hello there, sleepyhead.” You hear a voice coo softly. You’re immediately wide awake, sitting up quickly and staring at Wilbur, who’s hovering above you with his fingers gently running through your hair. Your jaw drops and you stare at him for a moment before shoving away the pillow and wrapping your arms around him. “Wh-what? When did you get home?” You ask, eyes wide. You turn your head and grab your phone to check the date, leaving you even more confused. He giggles a little bit hysterically. 

“Surprise!” He says, tackling you and forcing you back onto the bed. He starts to kiss you all over your face, and you weakly attempt to push him off of you. “Gah, Wil!” You complain lightly, wrapping your arms tighter around him as he presses a quick kiss to your neck. 

“I know I told you I’d be back tomorrow, I just wanted to surprise you.” He explains, putting his hands on either side of your face and smiling down at you. You match his expression. 

“I wish you’d told me you’d be back today so I can clean up a bit, at least.” You say, lifting a hand to cup his cheek and lean in to kiss him once. He chuckles into it. 

“Well, at least I’m here, yeah?” He asks, dropping one hand away from your face and reaching for your hand, lacing your fingers with his and gently squeezing it. You squeeze him back. “Looks like I was right on time, too.” He notes, dipping his head to kiss your forehead. “You were practically strangling that pillow.” Your face flushes and you smile shyly at him. “Just missed you.” You mumble, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. He sighs softly and lays down, pressing you against his chest and curling around you. “I missed you too, my love.” He whispers, pressing a kiss to your hairline. You smile gently and let your eyes fall shut. 

You can’t wait to make up for the lost time with him.

[justagalwhowrites]

Lavender - Ch. 2

It's hard not to get close to someone when living under the same roof, something you and Joel learn the hard way. Continuation from Ch. 1 found here.

Joel Miller X F!Reader

NSFW 18+ Minors DNI

CW: Just lots of really soft smut :)

It was surprisingly easy, settling into living with Joel and Sarah. When Joel had picked his daughter up from her sleepover that afternoon, he’d told her there was an issue with your apartment so you’d be staying with them for a bit. She practically tore into the house when they got there, finding you sprawled on the couch reading and tackled you. 

“We get to be roommates!” She was giddy. You smiled. “We can hang out all. The. Time.” 

“Except when we’re in school,” you said. “Because we still have to do that. But then… we can party!” 

“Yes!” Sarah punched the air before flopping on the couch beside you. 

“Sarah,” Joel held up her duffle bag. “Go get unpacked, c’mon now.” 

She looked at you in a way that said ‘ugh, dads, am I right?’ Before getting off the couch and taking her bag down the hall to her room. Joel came and sat beside you on the couch. 

“Don’t feel like you need to spend all your time entertaining her,” he said, looking anywhere but at you. “If she gets to be too much…” 

“Joel,” you put you hand on his knee. “I love your daughter. I like spending time with her. It’ll be fine.” 

The bigger concern you had was spending quite that much time with Joel. You’d become friends in the year you’d been working for him and that friendship had only made you more attracted to him. 

Of course, you weren’t going to DO anything about it. He was your boss, he was 11 years older than you, you were sure he wasn’t remotely interested in you like that. But being around him all the time was going to make it hard to not want more. You could already tell that much. 

For starters, he was oddly chivalrous. The first night you were there, he changed the sheets on his bed and tried to insist you sleep there while he took the couch. You flat out refused. 

“You work a physical job, Joel,” you rolled your eyes, already in your pajamas when he decided to broach the subject. “You’re not sleeping on a couch in your own damn house for three weeks and suffering because I have bad taste in men.” 

“Kid…” 

“Joel.” 

He glared at you. 

“Ain’t right to put you on the couch,” he said. You crossed your arms and plopped down on the couch anyway. 

“Try to put me in your room all you want, I’ll just sleep on the floor.” 

“You always this stubborn?” 

“Yup.” 

“Gettin’ an air mattress tomorrow,” he muttered, stalking off to his room. You smirked, flopping down on the couch and pulling the blanket up to your chin. 

He was also observant. You were getting frustrated with your pen as it ran low on ink as you were studying at the kitchen table one evening. The next day, Joel came home from work and wordlessly put a pack of the same kind of pens on the table next to you before going to shower. If you were sitting outside reading, he’d just be there with a glass of water or lemonade - didn’t say anything about it, just set it down beside you before going back inside. 

“Why’re you studying French, anyway?” He asked one evening as you were lying on the floor of the living room, holding a book over your head. Sarah was at soccer practice so it was one of the rare times where it was just the two of you in the house. 

“Want the practical answer or the real answer?” You asked, lowering the book to your stomach. 

“Real,” he replied, sitting on the couch, watching you. 

“It’s just such a beautiful language,” you sighed. “You could say damn near anything in French and it would sound lovely. Everything’s just poetry when it’s in French. And… well, it’s a pipe dream but I wish I could live in France.” 

“To do what?” He laughed a little. 

“Don’t make fun,” you protested, sitting up on your elbows. 

“I’m not,” he put his hands up. “Just curious.” 

“I wouldn’t do anything,” you shrugged. “I’d just… be. Get to walk around through the gardens or the city or the countryside, eat crepes, drink coffee at 3 in the afternoon at a cafe and watch the world go by. Read everything.” 

“Just be?” He cocked his head a bit at you. 

“Yup,” you popped your lips on the p before lying all the way back down. “Not everything in life is supposed to be hard, Joel. Sometimes you get to just be.” 

You picked up the book and were about to start reading again when he spoke. 

“What’s the practical reason?” 

“That’s easy,” you said. “Schools pay a premium if you can also teach a language and plenty of people speak Spanish, so French makes me competitive.” 

“Very practical,” he smiled. 

“It justifies the student loans,” you smiled back. 

By week two, you’d settled into a comfortable routine. There was the mad dash to leave the house in the morning - you’d started taking Sarah to school on your way to campus, something Joel seemed to be eternally grateful for. You were the first one home in the evenings, your classes clustered in the morning and early afternoons this semester. You took advantage of the quiet to study. When Sarah got home, you often helped her with her homework - her much more eager to do it when she got to do the work alongside you - and watching her favorite shows until you got dinner going just before Joel got home. 

“Keep tellin’ you you don’t need to cook for us,” he muttered one night, stopping in the kitchen to say hi to you before going to shower. 

“This is Hamburger Helper so I’m not sure it counts as cooking,” you replied. “But I’m staying here rent free, it’s the least I can do.” 

He just grunted, leaving you to it. 

After dinner was your favorite time of day, though. There was usually a movie or a board game or listening to a CD with Sarah before Joel put her to bed and you got changed into pajamas and got comfortable on the couch. You’d been alternating movies with Joel - him introducing you to horror movies and you making him watch romantic comedies - every night. 

“Can’t believe you’ve never seen ‘The Exorcist,’” he muttered, settling in beside you on the couch. You shrugged. 

“Can’t believe a movie about a little girl is that scary.” 

He glared at you. You held out a mix of popcorn and Sno-Caps. He took a handful. 

“You get too scared and I’ll turn it off,” he teased. You rolled your eyes. 

“I’m made of sterner stuff than that, Joel Miller,” you said, glancing at him. 

“I’m sure you are, Kid.” 

You always ended the night watching late night shows, something about Leno and Letterman making it so your guard came down a bit. By the time the monologues were done, your head drifted to Joel’s shoulder, too tired to sit up all the way but too desperate to be next to him to ask to go to bed. Sometimes you both fell asleep like that, jerking awake as the show ended and the sound of the commercials grew too loud. 

“Kid, you gotta kick me out if I’m keepin’ you up,” he said as he tried to blink the sleep from his eyes one night. 

“I like it,” you said, too sleepy to edit yourself. “It’s nice.” 

He looked down at you. 

“I like it, too.” 

Three weeks ended up flying by. 

For your last night living with the Millers, you decided to break out the big guns in the kitchen. You got a copy of “Mastering the Art of French Cooking” from the library so you wouldn’t need to go back to your apartment to pick yours up and got all the supplies to make boeuf bourguignon. You skipped your last class of the day to get it started in time, chopping and frying bacon, mincing garlic, combining everything just so. You’d gotten a few bottles of wine - one to cook with, more to enjoy - and even the stuff to make a chocolate cake. 

“What’s that?” Sarah peered into the pan when she got home from school. 

“The one really nice thing I actually know how to make,” you smiled. “Haven’t made it in a while so I figured I’d use my last night here as an excuse to keep my skills up. Homework?” 

“It’s Friday,” she crinkled her nose. 

“If you do it now you won’t have to worry about it all weekend,” you half sang it at her. “Plus by this time tomorrow, I’ll be settling into my new apartment and you’ll be stuck relying on your dad for help.” 

“Ew,” she crinkled her nose again. You laughed. 

“C’mon Sarah, abuse my knowledge one more time,” you said. “Make me feel like all these silly college classes are worth it.” 

“Fine,” she sighed, dragging her homework out of her bag. 

You put the main course in the oven and started making frosting while Sarah worked, occasionally asking you a question that you’d need to come look at her worksheet to help answer. 

Once the cake was frosted, Sarah’s homework was done (or so she claimed) and she took the phone off the hook and out to the backyard. You heard her talking excitedly to her friend as you got changed out of your chocolate smeared clothes and into a sundress, taking your hair down now that the heavy lifting in the kitchen was done, putting a ribbon in to keep it off your face. 

You were settled on the couch reading when Joel came home, stopping and smelling the air. 

“What in the world…” he muttered before spotting you in the living room. “What are you up to, Kid?” 

“It’s my last night,” you shrugged, smiling proudly. “Figured I’d do it up right.” 

“Smells fuckin’ incredible,” he said. 

“Thank you,” you smiled. “Had to make sure you’d miss me when I’m gone.” 

“Dad!” Sarah hung her torso in the back door, phone clutched to her chest. “Can I go spend the night at Lizzie’s? Then you don’t have to drop me off in the morning…” 

“No,” he said. Sarah’s face fell. 

“But Dad!” She whined. 

“No buts,” he said. “That’d be very rude, you goin’ over there with dinner here…” 

“I don’t mind,” you said with a shrug. “Honestly, it’s even better as leftovers.” 

“Sarah,” he sighed. 

“Please, Dad,” her eyes were wide. 

“Fine,” he shook his head. 

“Yes!” She stepped back outside, going back to the phone. 

“You’re a bad influence,” he glared at you. 

“Oh you know she’d be miserable if you told her no and she was stuck here with us old people all night,” you replied. “Everyone will have a better time this way.” 

“Yeah, you’re right,” he sighed. “Still don’t like it though…” 

You just smiled and shook your head as he stomped off to take a shower.

***

Joel couldn’t say the real reason he needed Sarah to stay home that night. You were in a fucking sundress with a ribbon in your hair. A goddamn ribbon. And you’d been cooking, the whole house smelled like heaven and you were in a fucking sundress with a goddamn ribbon in your hair and now he was going to be home alone with you all night. 

Not that anything was going to happen. Nothing was going to happen. Not a damn thing. You were basically a kid. He tried to imagine what he’d do if someone his age took an interest in Sarah when she got to be in her early 20s. He’d lay them out. He was too old for you and you were far too sweet and good for him. You deserved something better than him. 

Of course this was all a moot point if you weren’t interested in him at all. But he was starting to worry that you were interested. The movies and late night TV, you happily reading some of your French books aloud when he asked so he could hear what the language you loved so much sounded like on your tongue. You fell asleep against him more often than not, always seeming so happy to just be beside him. He’d stopped denying how he felt about you - he was well past that now. But if you had feelings for him, too… 

No. Too young, too sweet, too good. 

He fisted his cock in the shower, picturing the swell of your breasts in your fucking sundress, the way the goddamn ribbon displayed your collarbones, your lips soft and plump and glossy. He bit his lip to keep from moaning your name when he came. 

He got dressed again, hoping that this would be enough to keep you at arm’s length, at least for tonight. One more night. He could do this one more night. 

“You’re not going to eat all the cake, right?” Sarah was asking as you handed her a pillow. She was already one foot out the door. 

“No way,” you smiled. “Most of that sucker will be here when you get home tomorrow, promise.” 

“OK good,” she looked relieved. “It’s been really fun, having you around so much. I’m going to miss you.” 

“I’m going to miss you, too,” you said. “Thanks for hanging out with me so much these past few weeks.” 

There was a honk at the end of the driveway. 

“OK, go have fun!” You said. “I’ll see you again soon!” 

You stood and watched the car leave before closing the door, jumping when you saw Joel. 

“Jesus, you sure know how to be quiet for being such a big guy,” your hand went to your heart before you checked the time. “Still got about an hour until dinner but there’s wine?” 

“I won’t argue with wine,” he shrugged. 

You stopped and put on a CD on the way to the kitchen - something French because of course it was - and opened a bottle of red wine, pouring each of you a glass. Joel took a sip, savoring it for a moment. 

“I’m not going to pretend I know shit about wine,” he said. “But this is good.” 

“There’s definitely better wine out there,” you smiled. “But not in my price range. This was good enough to drink and cook with, so it worked.” 

“What’d you make, anyway?” He asked. “It smells complicated. Fuckin’ amazing but complicated.” 

“Boeuf bourguignon,” you said, a sense of pride in your voice. “It’s my grandma’s favorite, I make it for her on her birthday every year.” 

“Sounds complicated, too,” he half smiled. 

“It’s… not easy,” you smiled. “But nothing worth having is. That’s what makes it fun.” 

The food was fucking delicious. You sat across from him at the table and the two of you polished off a whole bottle of wine and started a second, both pleasantly buzzed as you sat back in your chairs. 

“I never need to eat again,” he groaned. 

“And just think, there’s cake,” you smiled. 

“You’re gonna kill me, Kid.” 

You twisted the stem of the wine glass in your fingers, watching as the dark liquid sloshed gently in the cup. 

“I have an awkward question,” you bit your lip as you watched him. 

“Shoot.” 

“Would it be weird if I jumped in the pool?” You asked. “By about 4 that water started looking really good…” 

“Not weird,” Joel frowned. “Why would that be weird?” 

“Because I didn’t pack a swim suit,” you winced. “But I swear my underwear covers up more than my swimsuit anyway, nothing sheer or lacy.” 

“Not… not weird.” He said it before he had a chance to really think about it. 

“Thank God,” you said, topping off your wine glass and getting up, heading for the door. “You coming?” 

“Yeah,” he said, body moving ahead of his mind. “I’m comin’.” 

You went outside, the cicadas already howling in the trees. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, like you were soaking it in. It was dusk, the hazy reds and oranges of the sunset catching on your hair. You slid the ribbon from your head and used it to put your mass of hair in a high ponytail before stepping out of your shoes. 

“Promise it’s not weird?” You asked, hands at the straps of your dress. He was watching, enraptured. 

“Promise, Kid.” 

“Not a Kid, Joel,” you gave him a small smile, slipping the straps of your dress down and sliding it down your body. 

He tried not to stare. He really, really did. But… it was you. Your skin, your pale blue bra, your black panties that were cut high on your legs. You didn’t seem to notice. You just folded your dress up and set it on a chair by the pool before going to the edge. 

“One,” you took a deep breath, your feet dancing at the water’s edge, working yourself up to jumping in. “Two… Three!” 

You leapt, feet first, catching yourself before your head went under. 

“Shit, that’s cold,” your arms went over your torso. 

“Could’ve told you that,” Joel shook his head, taking another drink of wine. “We usually wait another few weeks before the first swim of the season.” 

You hesitantly extended your arms, paddling around the water. 

“You coming in?” You asked, watching him, eyes wide. “Or are you afraid of a bit of cold water?” 

“Only because you asked so nice,” he set his wine glass down and pulled his shirt over his head, dropping it on the chair beside him. He was almost afraid to look at you after he did, to see if you were watching him the way he’d watched you. He almost hoped you weren’t. But you were, your eyes running over his skin, swimming slightly closer to the side of the pool where he stood. He took a deep breath and pulled his pants down, too - his cock mercifully not fully hard after seeing you half naked, thank fuck he’d jacked off before dinner - stripping himself down to just his boxers. 

Joel stepped into the water instead of jumping, forcing himself to take each next step down into the pool despite the cold. You were damn good motivation. 

“There, Kid,” he teased, swimming up alongside you. “You happy?” 

“Yes,” you beamed. “Misery loves company.” 

You both swam for a bit, in silence, just near each other, absorbing the sounds of the water and cicadas and your breaths. After a bit, you swam to the side of the pool where you’d left your wine glass, getting half out of the water to reach it to take a drink. Joel let himself admire the way your wet underwear clung to your ass, each cheek perfectly outlined. Like a fucking invitation. 

You took the glass to the side of the pool near Joel and leaned back against the wall, your arms out of the water behind you. You took another drink. 

“I’ll give you this much, Kid,” he said, letting his eyes rove over you. “You know how to plan an evening.” 

“I’ve got skills,” you smiled, tilting your head back so you were looking at the now dark sky for a moment before you looked to him. “Why do you call me Kid?” 

“What do you mean?” He frowned. “I’ve always called you that.” 

“I know,” you nodded. “And it’s fine, I don’t mind it. I kind of like that you have a nickname for me, I just… do you see me as a kid?”

You were looking him in the eye. Your nipples were peaked below your bra, your lips full and tinged red from the wine, the ribbon in your hair reflecting the starlight. 

“No,” his voice caught a bit on his throat. He shouldn’t be honest with you. “I don’t see you as a kid. Never really have. I should though, fuck knows I should.” 

“Why?” You breathed, twisting to face him. Your bodies were close, so close that his skin brushed yours when he moved. 

“Because you’re too young for the way I think about you,” he said, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “And you’re Sarah’s nanny…” 

“I’m 21 Joel,” you said softly. His hand slipped around your neck and tilted your head up toward his. 

“I know,” he said. “And you deserve someone better than me…” 

“I’m not sure there is anyone better than you,” you whispered. “Not to me.” 

He tugged you gently to him then, lowering his mouth to yours, his eyes holding your gaze until his lips met your own. 

The kiss started hesitant, gentle. You tasted like wine and cherries and your arms went around his neck, pressing your warm, soft body against his. His hands slipped to your waist then down your back, pulling you tighter to him and your kiss grew firmer, more desperate. Your tongue cautiously dipped into his mouth and he met it, pulling you into him before exploring your mouth back. 

His hands went to your ass - fuck you had a great ass - and picked you up, bringing you on level with him. Your legs went around his waist, your fingers tangling in his hair. Your core was pressed against him, so fucking hot against his stomach. The erection he’d been dodging all evening now unavoidable with you on him like this, his cock prodding against your backside. 

“Fucking hell Baby, you’re going to kill me,” he groaned, kissing down your jaw to your throat. 

“I like that name better,” you whispered, pressing your lips to the side of his head as you held him close. 

“Should tell me to stop,” he kissed down to your breasts and back up the other side of your neck. “Tell me to not want you.” 

“But I don’t want you to stop,” you ground your hips against his stomach and he groaned. He was so fucking close to being buried inside you. “I want you, Joel…” 

He brought a hand around to the front of you, finding your clit beneath your panties. You jumped a little but then relaxed into it, putting your lips against his. He pulled back from you, frowning. 

“Everything OK?” He asked, breathless. You nodded but looked hesitant. “Baby, if I’m doing anything you don’t want…” 

“No,” you cut him off quickly. “It’s just….” You bit your lip and closed your eyes, wincing for a moment before looking him in the eye again. “I’ve never done… this. Before.” 

“Done what.” 

“Joel, please don’t make me say it,” you groaned, dropping your head to his shoulder and pressing a kiss into him there. His eyes went wide. 

“You’re a virgin…” 

“Yeah,” you cut him off, lifting your head to look at him again. “If it’s too weird, that’s OK, I get it and I shouldn’t have said anything at all…” 

“Just surprised is all,” he managed eventually. “Not weird, Baby. Just maybe we should rethink…” 

“No,” you shook your head, pressing yourself tighter to him. “I want you, Joel.”

He slipped his fingers down your slit, teasing you, rubbing you. 

“You tell me if anything I do hurts and we stop,” he said gently and you nodded, kissing him again. 

He took his time with you, teasing your body open, slipping one finger inside you. You groaned, your walls clenching around him as he pressed deeper. Fuck, you were tight. It was a wonder his cock wasn’t ripping his boxers he was so hard. 

“Anyone ever done this before?” He asked, breathless as he worked his finger in and out of you, teasing your clit. 

“No,” you groaned. “Just you…” 

Just him. Fuck he loved hearing you say that, knowing some of those stupid boys you’d dated had never made it this far, never gotten their dirty hands on you. They’d have manhandled you, taken their own pleasure from you without worrying about yours. That was his justification. You deserved better, someone who knew and cared enough to take care of you, made sure he didn’t hurt you. He could be that for you. 

He slipped another finger into you, feeling you stretch around him as you moaned, working your hips against him. 

“You’re doing so well Baby,” he kissed your neck. “Want to make you cum first, that will help, think you can do that?” 

“Yeah,” you were breathless, clinging to him, working your hips against his fingers. 

He curved his fingers up against your inner wall, pressing into you, making you gasp in shock. 

“Have you ever done this, Baby?” He pulled back from you, searching your face, your pupils blown, cheeks red with want. 

“Not… inside myself,” your blush deepened. “Never…. Fuck…” he pressed into your clit harder and smiled, giving you a chance to focus. “Never needed inside, outside was…. Joel, fuck… outside was plenty.” 

He kissed your temple and down your cheek to your mouth, tasting you again. He added a third finger and you shuddered into his mouth, your pussy stretching over his intrusion. 

“That too much for you, Sweetheart?” He asked, barely pulling his lips from yours. 

“N…no…” you managed, rocking your hips against him. “Feels… good…” 

He plunged deeper, stretching you further, pressing into your clit as you got tighter and tighter around him. 

“It’s OK Baby, just cum for me,” he breathed, holding you close. “Just cum, you know you want to, need to. I’ve got you, it’s OK.” 

“Joel,” you whimpered, your grip on his body and fingers tightening as he felt you come apart around him. You went limp, body sagging against his in the water as you gasped for breath. He just cradled you close, stroking your hair. 

“We don’t have to do anything else Baby,” he said eventually, voice gentle. 

“But I want you,” you said, lips brushing his neck. “I want you to be my first, I want to feel you inside me….” 

“If you want me to stop,” he said, pulling his fingers from you and tucking your underwear to the side. “Then tell me to stop.” 

You nodded, taking a deep breath. He adjusted your bodies and freed his cock, lining himself up with your warm entrance. He pressed his tip into you, his forehead dropping to yours. Fuck, you were already gripping him so well and he wasn’t even really in you yet. He pulled you down a bit, sliding into you further. You sucked in a breath as the first two inches of him sank into you. 

“You OK?” He asked. You nodded quickly, kissing him. You started pressing your hips down on him, trying to pull him deeper. He obliged, holding your hips and driving himself into you. It was so hard to hold back from just taking you, you felt so fucking good around him, so tight he had to work for every fraction of every inch. He bottomed out in you just as his hips met yours, his cock against every part of your insides. 

He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this close to another person. He’d dated, of course, since Sarah’s mom had left, but nothing had stuck. He’d fuck someone and get it out of his system. There was no risk of that with you. One taste and he was certain he’d be wanting you for the rest of fucking time. 

“You feel…” you gasped, your fingers running through his hair. “God, so good. So so good. Didn’t know how good…” 

He kissed you, pressing himself against your back wall as he did, making you moan. 

“Need you to move, Joel,” you managed, pulling your mouth back from his. “Need to feel you…” 

He nodded against you and started to withdraw from you, going just halfway at first before easing back in. He started slow, gentle, focusing on finding the places inside you that made you grip him tighter and moan his name. 

But then he couldn’t hold himself back, leveraging you up and down his shaft as he fucked into you, feeling you open for him with each and every exquisite stroke, your body welcoming him and holding him tight. 

“Want to feel you cum like this,” he said, pressing a thumb into your clit. “Tell me what you need Baby…” 

“Keep doing that…” you pressed yourself down against him. “Fuck, so close…” 

It didn’t take long for you to finish again, your body trembling around him, feeling so fucking incredible around his cock. 

“Where do you want me to finish?” He managed to gasp out. 

“Inside,” you moaned. “I’m on the pill, please…” 

Joel didn’t need to be told twice, pressing himself as far into you as he could reach and cumming, hard, pulse after pulse filling your wrung-out body. He held you tighter, leaning against the wall of the pool to stay on his feet. 

Fuck, he was in trouble.

[jaegeraether]

Sunsets and footballers (Part 3)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (3)

Masterlist (other parts here)

Jordan had a big smile on her face when she saw YFN. She pulled over at the front of her hotel and put the window down.

“Allo mate, need a lift?”

“I don’t have any money, sorry.”

Jordan opened her mouth in an amused and fake offended ‘O’. “You’re takin’ the mick.”

YFN laughed and slid into the passenger seat. “Do you charge by the hour or…?”

Jordan laughed loudly and slapped her arm. “Too expensive for you, mate.”

She began driving. YFN loved seeing this side of Jordan. The side that seemed much more natural, and much more of the Jordan that Lucy was describing last night.

“Wherrrrrre are we going?”

“I was thinking coffee and then shopping? Also, I’m assuming you don’t have any football gear to wear to the game tomorrow?”

“Hm, you are correct there.”

“Oh, Lucy is going to love seeing you in a Bronze jersey.”

YFN blushed and looked over, surprised.

“What? She loves seeing people in her jersey. Plus, you don’t know anybody else on the team, do you?”

“That’s a negative, and what number is she?”

“2.”

“Oh, my favourite. Okay, let’s get a Bronze jersey. Should we get the home or away kit?”

Jordan laughed. “Wow, look at you! Someone’s been doing their research!”

YFN grinned. “I love blue but the internet says something about it being a bad luck kit…?”

“Oh poppycock. Blue would be perfect with your eyes.”

YFN laughed. “Oh, and I also want an Australian flag.”

Although they only planned on a few hours, the two spent all day together. The atmosphere was great, they both bantered like they’d known each other for years. They wandered around town with iced drinks, stopped for breakfast, then lunch, and Jordan even taught her how to kick a soccer ball on an empty pitch, as well as teaching her some rules. YFN did try to incorporate some tackles to which Jordan gave her red cards for. They collected some free merchandise for the game from people in the club who Jordan knew and managed to find an Australian flag also. The day was fantastic, and of course they ended it on the beach with some fish and chips, Jordan making YFN try it with curry sauce. It confused the hell out of her, but she admitted it was decent.

The next day Jordan picked up YFN again early and they went for lunch. They had decided the day before that they wanted to catch up earlier before they headed to the game. At lunch, Jordan asked YFN about her job and what she did. She was a writer and loved to write fantasy. She’d been working for a newspaper before she left and had a very popular daily column with a lot of fans, but she left because she lost her passion for it. And so, she decided to travel to gain inspiration and get back into writing fantasy with the hope of publishing and travelling the world. Jordan was wowed by this and admitted to wishing she had the creativity for it. About five minutes later though, it seemed she had completely forgotten the conversation though, and had to ask again. YFN laughed, this had happened a few times with her the day before and so she lovingly gave Jordan the nickname ‘Dory’.

The seats for the game were in the perfect spot, just adjacent to where the team benches were. The two were dressed up, laughing at their awkwardness as they made their way down to their seats with arms of popcorn, hotdogs, and drinks. They reached their seats and were greeted by a loud man and his adorable family. YFN didn’t need a degree to figure out who it was. Jordan introduced him as Jorge Bronze, Lucy’s big brother, and his family. He gave Jordan a hug and kiss, and she picked up the kids and gave them kisses also. Jorge dragged YFN into a strong hug they took their seats next to them. It felt like a huge family affair and made YFNs heart swell with happiness. Her family life was not so joyful, and so this was a happy change. A few other friends came over to say hi to Jordan and she introduced them to YFN. They were friends, other football players, or partners of friends.

Shortly before the game, the teams ran out onto the field to warm up. The crowd seemed to yell extra loudly as Lucy came out onto the field, Jorge was the loudest of all. One kid in his arm and a drink in the other, he yelled at the top of his lungs “LUCYLUCY. LUCYLUCY.” Many people were yelling it like a chant, and Jorge recorded it for his social media. YFN couldn’t keep her eyes off of Lucy. She oozed confidence. Her dark hair was up in a messy bun, and she looked a bit different without her glasses, but a good different. YFN bit her lip, thinking her football gear was a welcome sight. She couldn’t help but see the muscles through her clothes, particularly the thigh muscles when she walked. Lucy jogged around without a care, chewing gum and laughing with her teammates. At one point in time, she even sat on a football and just watched as the others warmed up.

“Hey Dory, what’s she doing?” YFN asked Jordan.

Jordan leaned into YFN to yell over the crowd. “Who? Lucy? Oh, her knee is really bad. Like really, really bad. She’s had a lot of surgeries and she’s always in pain. She just tries to keep off it before and after games really.”

As if Lucy had heard them, she looked up and caught sight of her group. Her eyes wandered along her family who were crazily waving until she reached Jordan and YFN. She grinned when she saw YFN wearing her jersey with that little dimpled smile on her face. It suited her, she thought. Being in the crowd with her family and friends, wearing a Bronze jersey, and holding an Australian flag with pride. She and Jordan had painted the flag on their cheeks also, fully supporting their friend. Lucy wanted nothing more than to walk over and talk to them, but she knew she was supposed to be warming up. She settled for a big childish wave and re-joined her team.

Ten minutes later they left the field, Lucy waving at her section and grinning from ear to ear as she left. Soon enough after, the crowd roared as the teams entered the stadium, holding hands with their mascots. Lucy was last in line, swinging arms with her little mascot. They stood for the national anthems and after a quick team photo, the game was underway. YFN couldn’t tell if she was just biased, but it was pretty obvious to her that Lucy was the most intelligent on the field. When she didn’t see an opening she liked, she passed the ball back to the defender next to her who Jordan said was “Millie Bright – acting Captain.” She pushed up the field hard during the first half of the game, and very nearly scoring on several occasions.

“Wow, Lucy is ON FIRE today! LUCYLUCY!” Jorge shouted. “THAT’S MY SISTER!”

“I haven’t seen her play this good is a while!” Jordan shouted in YFN’s ear.

A long shot came towards the goal and Lucy was sprinting from nowhere, her speed was incredible. She leapt, heading the ball and the goalkeeper tipped it. The ball hit the crossbar and bounced back into play. One of Lucy’s teammates were in the perfect position for the rebound and struck the ball, side-netting it. The crowd groaned loudly.

“COME ON LESS!” Jordan yelled encouragingly.

“COME ON RUSSO! WHY IS LUCY OUR BEST STRIKER!” A yell came from behind them in the crowd.

YFN was confused. Jordan saw her confusion. “Lucy is a defender, not a striker. Not even a midfielder. She shouldn’t be the most dangerous striker for us today but she’s just playing so well. The other girls aren’t doing well enough to be honest.”

That made sense to her. Lucy was compensating for her team. All of her discussions with Jordan the day before about Lucy being overly competitive and not liking to lose were becoming more obvious. YFN loved it and joined in on the shouting for England’s number 2.

The whistle blew to signal half time and the scores were still 0-0. During the break the pair took Lucy’s niece and nephew up to the bathroom and brought back more snacks for the Bronze family. They settled back down when YFN noticed that Jordan was tense and uncomfortably shifting.

“What’s the matter?” YFN asked.

Jordan leant over to talk in her ear, not loud enough that anyone else would hear it. “My ex is here. A few rows behind us. She waved at me.”

YFN pulled back with wide, worried eyes. “Oh Jordan, are you okay?”

“I don’t know. We’re still friends and I think she’s a lovely person, but I just feel so uncomfortable right now. She going to want to try and speak to me after this.”

“And you don’t want to?”

“She going to try and speak to me like everything’s normal when it’s not. I don’t think I have the capacity.”

YFN put her arm around Jordan and pulled her close. “You need to tell her that you need space. Because right now, even though you’re replying the bare minimum to her, it’s still coming across like you’re okay to casually chat to her when you know you need your space to heal.”

“You’re right.” She groaned. “I just don’t want to come across nasty at all. She’s such a good person.”

“Protect yourself first. Heal a bit. And only then can you try to have normal conversations with her, hm?”

The teams came back out then, and the second half began. Jordan’s mood picked up as she was lost again in the screaming, but unlike YFN, she was yelling their names.

Lucy played even better the second half, giving so many chances to her teammates to score. She went down, hard at one point, literally tumbling over like a gymnast and the crowd seemed to think this was normal.

“NEVER A GOOD GAME UNLESS LUCY IS FLYING!”

“LUCIA!”

“LUCYLUCY!”

“BRONZEYYYYY!”

She got back up and jogged back over to her spot a bit stiffly. YFN was in awe of her resilience. Eventually the 90 minutes were up and they were given +2 minutes. Just when all seemed like it was about to be over, Lucy scored. And it was beautiful. Just like last time she came sprinting from absolutely nowhere however this time she volleyed the ball into the net, hard. So hard the net must have broken. The stadium erupted, they all leapt to their feet screaming at the top of their lungs. Jordan and YFN grabbed each other, jumping up and down. Popcorn flew all around. Lucy was bombarded by her teammates leaping onto her. Looking up at the big screen, YFN could better see the massive grin spread across her face. Of course she scored.

“GOAL FOR ENGLAND NUMBER 2, LUCY BRONZE!”

The stadium erupted again.

Play resumed for the last 20 seconds, and the whistle ended the match to a stadium still cheering for Lucy.

Jorge was again filming on his phone, kid in one arm and phone in the other. “AW TOO BAD SO SAD.” He cackled as he filmed the other team. YFN laughed at the absurdity of it. She looked around at the packed stadium. It was all insane.

“AND YOUR PLAYER OF THE MATCH IS… LUCY BRONZE!”

Lucy received even more yelling and applauses. She shook hands with both teams and then was dragged into an interview on the pitch while her teammates signed autographs and gave out some of their match worn gear to the crowd. When Lucy finished the interview, she immediately hobbled over to her section and jumped up to lean over the barriers. Jorge and her family got to her first and pulled her into big hugs and kisses. They took some selfies and then Lucy moved over to grab Jordan into an all-encompassing hug.

“I’m so proud of you.” Jordan cried, tears welling. Lucy grinned and pulled back, looking at YFN and opening her arms cheekily. YFN laughed and wrapped her arms around her in a tight, warm hug. Of course, Lucy’s hugs were amazing.

“I’m sorry, I probably don’t smell the best right now.”

“You smell like success to me.” YFN kept holding tight for as long as Lucy was, though Lucy was doing the same. They both gave up eventually so as to not give any wrong impressions to photographers or the crowd around them.

“Nice jersey. Would you like me to sign it?”

“Depends, how much would it be worth?”

Lucy rolled her eyes and took a sharpie from her brother. She shifted YFN’s hair back gently to sign her jersey over her collarbone. She couldn’t help but notice YFNs perfume. The same perfume that was on her hoody when she had given it back a few days before. A shiver went up her spine as she tried to focus on writing neatly.

“Mine too please!” Jordan quipped. Lucy signed her jersey also.

“Oh, and this please!” YFN held up her Australian flag. Lucy grinned, rolling her eyes again and signed her flag. YFN couldn’t help but stare at her, the big grin taking over her face, her hair curling at the sides where she’d been sweating, and those big green eyes. They locked eyes for a moment but both broke contact almost immediately as it affected them both so intensely. No way would they be able to keep it normal in front of so many people. They felt each other shiver and saw each other smile. Nobody seemed to notice.

“I hear there’s a dinner party tonight!” Jorge almost yelled.

“Ohhhh yeah. Family and friends. I told them you’d all be there. You’re all coming, right?” She looked at Jordan a little worried, presumably because her ex would be there.

Jordan looked at YFN. “Stuff it. Yeah, we’ll be there.”