#god her voice is nice. she could ruin me

[little-diable]

Mine to Claim - Dean Winchester (smut)

While I'm still wondering if I should write for James Beaufort, I decided to run with the enemies to lovers theme for Dean. I know y'all love jealous Dean as much as I do. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader wants Sam to have a nice birthday, but all she can focus on is Dean, the man she had always sworn to hate, the man who gets all possessive as soon as somebody else finds her interesting enough to chat her up.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, thigh riding, full on jealous Dean, Dean's a bit of a dick in the beginning, possessiveness, fluffy end

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (about 4k words)

“A party? And who should we invite, huh?” Dean’s voice filled the library. He had his feet placed on the table, arms crossed in front of his chest while nursing his second beer of the night. 

(Y/n) had her eyes focused on the laptop, typing away as she tried to pierce ideas together to celebrate Sam’s birthday. But while she was set on putting something special together, trying to trap the man she couldn’t stand into helping her, Dean could only give room to annoying comments. 

“How about some werewolves, vampires maybe or a wendigo to make this exciting!” Sarcasm dripped from Dean’s words, leaving her groaning as she finally looked at the handsome Winchester brother. The two of them had never been fans of one another, but while (y/n) generally tried to keep her distance, Dean was set on annoying her at any given chance. She had lost count of the dates he had ruined for her, the friendships she had tried to build but had been torn down by him, no matter what she tried to do, Dean was always right there to cross her plans.

“Have you always been such an asshole or have you just not outgrown your teenager phase yet?” She shifted her weight onto her forearms while staring at Dean as if he was the most fascinating thing she had ever seen. His eyes had a twinkle to them as he mimicked her movements, taking his feet off the table to lean further towards her. 

“Don’t be like that, sweetheart, we both know you enjoy our dynamic more than you let others believe. You have never been good at hiding your crush on me.” The angry scoff clawing through (y/n) forced a chuckle out of Dean, who looked at her as if he had just goaled a win. Whenever he managed to rile her up, to get her angrier by the second, his smirk would grow as if he was proud of himself for getting under her skin like that. 

“Fuck you, Dean!” She rose to her feet, unexpectedly to Dean who now studied her with confusion laced in his gaze. “I’ll just take Sam out for dinner, anywhere without you near will be good enough.” 

(Y/n) tried to walk past him with angry tears welling up in her eyes, but she didn’t manage to get far, forced to a halt by the hand clamping down on her wrist. Dean stared up at her with an unreadable expression, shooting shudders down her spine while she tried to rip herself free. Something inside of her told her that he was close to apologising, urged on by the guilt he may feel, but the moment passed within seconds, forcing his smirk back to his lips.

“Dream of me tonight, sweetheart. But first, tell me, do you still sleep in my shirt?” The angry huff clawing through her made Dean chuckle, watching her rip herself free before storming out of the room. Her heart was aching in her chest, pounding against her ribs while her feet carried her towards her room. 

With her laptop tossed onto her bed, (y/n) allowed her tears to fall, urged on by her anger and confusion, torn between the way she had always detested Dean and the silent longing for him and his closeness. God, she hated him, hated him more than words could ever express, and yet a small, fucked up part of her wanted him and every part of him. 

It was time to finally get over Dean Winchester and the confusing emotions he pushed through her. 

……

“Thank you for this, (y/n). This is by far the best birthday I ever had.” Sam squeezed her shoulder as she looked up at him with a proud grin. She shot Sam another smile before she let her gaze wander, finding Dean’s frame. Even though she had tried to lure Sam away from his brother, knowing that the night wouldn’t end well if she and Dean would have to spend it together, Sam had begged her to take his brother with them, ending up at this very bar.

“Let me get you another beer, birthday boy. I’ll be back in a second.” (Y/n) rose to her feet with an unwavering smile, pushing past a few people to reach the bar. Music rang in her ears, not loud enough to leave her body buzzing, yet just enough to distract her from her wandering thoughts. 

“Hey,” an unfamiliar voice forced her attention away from the bartender, waiting for her to make her way towards (y/n). A guy was standing close to her, he was a bit taller than her, a handsome face she smiled at. “Is that your boyfriend?”

He tilted his head towards Sam, leaving her chuckling as (y/n) shook her head no. A relieved smile managed to find its way to the guy’s lips, he was visibly relaxing while taking a step closer. Even though her body begged her to chase the distance, her mind urged her to stay right where she was, reminding her of her promise to finally find a distraction from Dean Winchester.

“Are you from around here?” She kept her voice quiet as she studied the guy, the plaid shirt he wore and those dark jeans that had a similar touch to the ones Dean currently wore. For a second, she let her eyes wander, not paying attention to the words the guy spoke, but Dean was nowhere to be found, disappearing from her sight. 

“It’s my friend’s birthday today, so I’ll have to get back to him.” (Y/n) mumbled while she shot the guy another smile. She turned towards the bartender to speak her order before the guy could gain her attention again, with his phone in his hand.

“Give me your number, maybe I can take you out for dinner or something?” The soft chuckle leaving her made him smile, watching her type her number into his phone before reaching for the two bottles of beer. She took a step away from him, with her gaze still focused on him, but the second she turned away, (y/n) stumbled into a broad chest, having to tighten her grasp on the bottles before she could drop them. 

Wide eyes found a pair of familiar green ones, getting lost in the darkening pupils for a moment or two. Dean’s jaw muscles were ticking in anger as his gaze flickered between (y/n) and the guy she had been talking to. It took her a moment to rip herself out of her frozen state before she tried to push past Dean, though without any luck. 

“What did he want from you?” Dean’s voice had something to it she couldn’t pinpoint, something that left her insides churning; something that left her straightening her spine. Her eyes wandered over his angry features, allowing her to take in his handsome features. If he weren’t such an asshole to her, she would have instantly fallen hard for him, begging the man for a chance to love him like he deserved to be loved. 

“That’s nothing of your concern, Dean. Let me go.” But Dean didn’t give in, he tightened his grip on her arm to pull her even closer. 

“Oh, but we both know that it is, sweetheart.” She couldn’t find a reply, the words were stolen right from her as his lips graced her warm cheek with his eyes set on the guy who was still watching the two. And with another squeeze of her arm, he finally let go of her, only to gently push her into Sam’s direction. 

……

She woke with a groan, forcing her eyes open to take in the darkness surrounding her. Slowly, (y/n) rolled onto her side to reach for her phone, reading the time. It was in the middle of the night, only a few hours after they had found their way back home from the bar. 

Since that moment with Dean, (y/n) had been deep in thought, not understanding the way he had behaved at the bar. She crawled out of her bed with a sigh, set on grabbing a new glass of water to clear her thoughts. Still surrounded by darkness, she made her way to the kitchen, carried by tired limbs that begged her to make it back to bed. 

“I knew you were still stealing my shirts.” Dean’s voice left her jumping, ripping a squeal out of her as she turned towards him. He was leaning against the table, arms crossed in front of his chest, eyes set on her frame. Heat rose to her features as she remembered that she was once again wearing a shirt of his, and nothing more. 

“You jerk, why do you always have to scare me like that?” He walked closer to her, allowing her to find his pupils. His chest was almost pushed against hers while he wordlessly stared down at (y/n). She was close to speaking up again, set on throwing another insult his way to get herself out of this situation before she could say or do something stupid. But the second his hands found her waist to heave her onto the cold kitchen island, she forgot every word she had planned to speak. 

“Did that guy call you?” His voice was raspy, making goosebumps appear on her exposed skin. (Y/n) could barely focus on his voice, distracted by the feeling of Dean lingering between her spread thighs and the way he grasped her hips with his big hands. 

“Maybe he did, so what?” His tongue kissed his teeth while he pondered over her words, staring at (y/n) with something she’d dream of for a while. It felt like heaven and hell were clashing, forcing them to balance a strong energy neither had felt before. It drew them closer with every passing second, growing between them while both could only endure its strength. 

“You’ll lose his number.” It was a simple command, words that drew a soft laugh out of (y/n) while she shook her head no. A laugh that lost its strength as Dean’s big hand found her throat, forcing her to quiet down. Her pupils grew wider at the touch, drawing a shaky breath out of (y/n). “He’ll never have you.”

“And you will?” She could only whisper her question, words that left Dean smirking as he dipped his head down. He was close to kissing her, lips ghosting over hers while her heart picked up its beat. 

“We both know that I already have you.” With one last squeeze of her throat, Dean pressed a kiss to the corner of her lips before letting go of her. (Y/n) was at loss for words, could only watch him take another step away from her with his teeth buried in his grinning lower lip, front still turned in her direction. 

(Y/n) needed a handful of seconds before she snapped into motion, jumping off the metallic kitchen island to haul herself into his space, lips finding his with her arms wrapped around his neck. Dean instantly replied to the kiss with one hand placed on her waist and the other cupping the back of her head to keep her close. Their tongues met to deepen the kiss, leaving both groaning at the new sensation. 

“I belong to nobody and if you keep on being such an asshole to me, you’ll be the last person to ever have me.” She mumbled the words against his lips before pushing him away, leaving Dean breathless while she walked back to her room with a smile glued to her slightly swollen lips. 

……

Music filled her room, cozying (y/n) along while she was reading. It had been hours since her kiss with Dean, a memory that left her buzzing with nerves whenever her mind took her back to those minutes. She was proud of herself for finding the confidence at that time, for pushing him away after a kiss she longed to experience again. 

His lips had felt all too soft, a perfect kiss she had always read of in books but had never experienced herself–until that very moment. He had tasted of beer and home, a strange sensation she hadn’t been able to shake so far. 

A soft knock forced her out of her thoughts, eyes flickering towards her door to watch Dean step into the room. They hadn’t shared a single word since that kiss, while she had hid herself in her room, Dean had given her enough space to sort through the chaos both were stuck in now. 

He closed the door behind himself before walking towards her bed. (Y/n) could only watch as he plopped down on her bed, gently taking her book to place it on her nightstand before pulling her into his chest. She could hear his heart racing as both were laying there in silence. 

“What are you doing, Dean?” (Y/n) shifted on his chest, eyes finding his while he kept his hand placed on her side. He stayed quiet, seemingly deep in thought with his eyes set on the ceiling rather than her face. 

(Y/n) barely allowed herself to properly look at Dean, to take in the beauty of the man who made her feel the most confusing emotions imaginable. She wanted to count his freckles, every single one of them reminding her of a galaxy million of lightyears away, each telling its own story. She wanted to get lost in the green eyes reminding her of a forest that had seen the most gruesome things and yet still managed to offer a home to those needing shelter. She wanted to kiss those plush lips again that made her feel more alive than she had ever felt before.

“I,” he cleared his throat as if he was trying to rip himself out of a trap, forcing his eyes back down to meet hers. “Somewhere along the way, since meeting you, I’ve realised that it’s much easier to rile you up, to annoy you and have you as an enemy rather than admit my feelings to you but also to myself. From the first day we met you at that diner, I knew I had found my match, the one who finally belongs to me. But fuck, my anxiety got the best of me, and I began spiralling. It was fucking immature of me, but I couldn’t stop, not as long as I couldn’t accept that I’ve loved you for years.” 

Tears welled up in her eyes as she pondered over his confession, the words that cut deeper than she liked to admit. Dean’s thumb wiped away her falling tear while tightening his grip on her. Both were choked up, struggling to keep on speaking as silence engulfed them once again. The seconds kept fading by, moments she desperately needed to sort through her confusion, the words she wanted to speak but was unsure of. 

“And you’re ready to accept it now?” (Y/n)’s voice trembled, buzzing through her body like lightning set on burning holes into her skin. Dean’s hand stroked up her spine until he found the back of her neck, pressing (y/n) close to kiss her softly. It took her a few seconds to let her lips move, tongues meeting much slower than they had for their first kiss.

“If you’ll let me love you like you deserve to be loved, I am ready to accept it and fight for it.” A part of her knew that she should leave his side, kick him out of the room, and curse him for thinking she’d ever give him a chance, but the other, bigger part, begged her to give in, to finally grasp this chance she had silently hoped for whenever her anger turned into desperation and longings. 

“Kiss me, Dean.” He didn’t need to be told twice. Dean dipped his head down to kiss her with one hand finding her cheek. It wasn’t a soft kiss, fuelled by unspoken emotions and longings, and yet both took their time to properly explore their newfound territory. Carefully, Dean pushed her off his chest to hover over her with one leg finding its way between her thighs.

They didn’t break the kiss as he softly pressed his thigh against her heat, drawing a moan from (y/n) at the sudden contact. Heat buzzed through her body, down her spine and straight to her pulsing bundle. (Y/n) tried to push herself closer, moving with just enough strength to moan once again. 

“Can you make yourself cum on my thigh, sweetheart? Show me how much you need to be touched.” Her eyes found his stormy ones, getting lost in the rich colour for a second before a shaky exhale left her. (Y/n) pulled Dean down for another kiss while she moved against his thigh again, supported by him as he met her movements with more urgency.

Her body was burning, shaking from the excitement she couldn’t let go of; the anticipation pushing her towards the edge she’d fall from at least two times that day. Dean kissed his way down her throat, sucking on the spots that made her arch her back off the mattress. Goosebumps covered her body while she lost grip on reality, allowing her body to move without her mind’s guidance while searching for that high she could already feel creeping closer. 

“Such a good girl, look at how perfect you look, fuck, I can’t wait to see you all done with my cock buried inside of you.” He rasped the words against her ear, forcing (y/n)’s hands to find his forearms to hold on, clawing her fingernails into his skin. She was close already, about to let go with his name rolling off her tongue as the fabric offered just enough friction to make her gasp. 

His name rolled off her tongue as she came, eyes squeezed shut, back arched, toes curled. Dean could only stare down at her, mesmerised by the sight he’d take to the grave, forever remembering the first time he made her cum. With his lips meeting hers again, he managed to rip her out of her hazy daze, forcing her hands to move as they tugged on his shirt. 

They parted for a moment, allowing Dean to get rid of his shirt and his trousers, while she mimicked his movements, undressing herself with trembling fingers. Her mind was racing, leaving her buzzing as it slowly began to dawn on her what was about to happen, that she was about to let the man she had hated for years fuck her. 

“Tell me you want this as much as I do. I won’t touch you otherwise.” Dean’s murmured words made a smile widen on her lips. Even though she struggled to reply, eyes and mind fully focused on his naked body, the muscles she wanted to kiss, the cock that grew harder with every passing second, she parted her swollen lips. 

“I want you, Dean, mark me up.” With his grin glued to his lips, he watched her reach for a condom, rolling it down his cock to draw a soft groan from him. They held eye contact as he positioned himself on top of her, letting his fingers brush through her dripping slit for a moment before finally pushing into her. 

Groans and moans left the two at the new sensation, with her walls fluttering around him and his cock disappearing further and further inside of her. Dean pressed his forehead against hers as a deep exhale left her as if she needed to relax, to tell herself that everything was alright. He moved slowly, careful at first, giving (y/n) enough time to adjust while their bodies kept meeting with every thrust. 

“Fuck, you feel so perfect.” Dean’s words drew a small chuckle out of (y/n). Her arms found their way around his neck, letting her fingernails scratch at his skin on their way up his neck. The second she found his roots to tug on them, Dean added more speed to his thrusts, set on leaving marks just like she had asked him to. 

She was about to moan his name, about to beg Dean to move faster, but the sound of her ringing phone forced her attention away from him. For a second, his pace began to falter, but then a smirk widened on his lips. 

“Who is it?” Her wide eyes found their way back to his. 

“The guy from the bar.” She was breathless, struggled to reply while a desperate whine left her. She needed Dean to move again, to push her closer to the edge with his cock buried deep inside of her. 

“Pick up.” Confusion was laced in her gaze as she watched Dean reach for the phone. He answered the call before he pushed it into her direction. They held eye contact as he began to move once again, fucking her even deeper than before.

“Hi, (y/n). I wanted to ask if you’re free tonight? I’d like to take you out for dinner.” (Y/n) struggled to stop her moans from leaving her, not wanting to give away what she and Dean were currently doing–even though Dean was clearly set on proving to the guy that she was now taken. 

“Hi, listen,” Dean’s thrust met her swollen spot the second she began speaking, drawing a moan from her she couldn’t bite down. Embarrassment was about to flush through her, widening her pupils while Dean’s smirk kept growing bigger. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

Another moan left her as Dean met that spot again and again, letting the phone fall from her hands while hoping that the guy would simply hang up. No longer could she care about anything but the way Dean fucked her, letting his fingers meet her pulsing bundle to give her the needed push. 

“Cum for me, baby.” His lips met hers as she came, swallowing her moans while he fucked her through the sensation. (Y/n)’s body was buzzing, trembling beneath Dean as he searched his own high with fast thrusts that left her whimpering. He came with a groan moments later, thrown over the edge. 

“Fuck, that was something.” His husky words left her chuckling. She watched him roll off her to get rid of the condom before finding his way back to her bed. Dean’s warmth engulfed her, his arms pulled her against his chest as he pressed a kiss to her hairline. 

“We still have to talk about all of this.” (Y/n) whispered words drew a hum from Dean, who found himself being pulled back into his hazy thoughts. 

“I’ll do whatever it takes to earn your forgiveness, I promise, sweetheart.” Her eyes flickered up to meet his, studying the unreadable expression he wore. 

“As long as you keep touching me like that I’m sure we’ll find a way.”

[artinvain]

pls pls pls more abby strapping/scissoring. make it NASTY NASTY NASTY 🫶🏾🏃🏾‍♀️

+ pervy/creepy roommate abby bc why not, if i'm going to be nasty!!

cw: manipulation, slight overtones of sacrilege, grinding/scissoring, strap usage, finger n oral, crying, sub!top abby, squirting, possessiveness.

no men, minors blank or ageless blogs allowed!!!!!!!!!!!

abby has been pining over you for months. it started as soon as she had met you for an interview about the room she was leasing. she opened the door and there a scent permeated from you, she swore it was an aphrodisiac. your soft skin and plush hips under that sundress. she was completely infatuated.

abby was head over heels and she'd be damned if she didn't see you again, so she lowered her rates for you after you'd mentioned the place was a little out of your budget (though, completely worth it -- you added). when you tried to politely decline out of respect for her. It was her father's apartment after all. however abby insisted in such a way that you couldn't say no.

she offered to help you move in, to show you around the city. she was already prattling on about dinners her father would pay for and roomie movie nights. you really couldn't say no to her offer if you tried, lowered rates, clean, spacious and a nice roommate? you were new in the city -- every other apartment you saw in your budget was loaded with roaches, dirty needles and loud noises. this was probably the best it would get.

to you abby seemed quiet, innocent and very very kind. she'd mentioned she didn't have many friends as she helped you move in, and slowly but surely she became your best friend. and of course a part of you had fallen for abby. how could you not? she was beautiful, funny, smart, protective and nurturing and god she was so fucking hot. but you weren't sure if a relationship was something you wanted, let alone not if it ruined the great friendship you finally had.

abby disagreed, she had read it in your journal and she wasn't worried about ruining your friendship because she was convinced that all roads let to bringing the two of you together. what else could explain how much she loved you?

what, if not love could explain why the scent of your panties, worn and damp from the day made her so wet. what but love could explain how hard she cums from looking at the pretty little bikini posts on your Instagram while her nose is filled with your scent, her tongue laps at the wet spot on your panties.

she's only worried today, about how long she's waited, when you mention how well your date went earlier that day. you hadn't stopped speaking about ellie since you walked back into the apartment this afternoon. abby tried to hide her agitation. how could you actually consider dating someone else. the thought nearly made her sick.

she'd seen it everywhere - the way you look at her, when you bring her coffee in the morning or fall asleep in her lap. you love her. and she loves you. it was simple and maybe now she needed to show you, really let you know how she felt instead of beating around the bush.

"abby?" your voice cracks the glass of her dissociation and brings her back into her body. you shift so that abby's long legs and entangles with yours. it's normal, you sit like this all the time, knees up and face to face but this time, her body so tight with need for you -- abby groans under her breath at the heat between your legs near her thinly clad thigh.

the familiar smell of your pussy dizzying her and she can't help that her hips buck. and your breath hitches when her warm cunt bumps yours.

"abby," you gulp, eyes low and meeting hers a small smile etched on her face. you've barely touched and yet your stomach is tight with lust. "tell me you want me to stop and i will," abby whispers, bucking her hips again and moaning when you meet her thrusts.

"see? baby we're made for each other," she groans at the feeling of your warm thick thighs on hers, "she could never make you feel like this." abby says very matter-of-fact. abby licks her lips and grips your thighs pulling you close and grinding her clothed pussy against yours.

"f-fuck you feel so good," abby whines, closing her thighs tight around you and watching your eyes roll back at the feeling of her winding her hips against you.

"abby - god," you groan "fuck, fuck please," you're already so desperate, your pussy wet and slippery against the lace of your panties and dampening your shorts.

"hmpfuck that's it baby, m'so glad you're finally mine," she whimpers, grunting and humping you, her blunt nails biting into your thighs. her statement flies over your head as you reach your highs, your bodies twitching as abby grinds you through your orgasms.

"god, sweet god, look at you, you're so pretty all fucked out for me," abby moans, looking over your flushed face scrunched up in the aftershocks of pleasure. abby leans down to kiss you and your tongues taste each other, sweet and wet and you're both moaning into each other's mouths.

abby's hands come to play with your nipples like she'd watched you do that once you left your door open a crack. her fingers roughly tugging and twisting your nipples as you moan, your back arching at the sweet pain. abby's hand slither down into your panties and circles your clit.

"god, you're so fucking wet," abby moans, her fingers sinking into you as you pull your shorts and panties down. abby groans at the sight of your pussy wet and swollen and swallowing her fingers all the way to the hilt and she curls them, watching your eyebrows raise and your mouth fall open.

"yeah honey? that feel good?" abby cooes, her forehead pressed against yours so she can taste your moans and squeaks when she starts strumming your clit, rubbing so quickly your breath can't keep up. she can feel you twitching erratically around her.

"cum for me, please baby i need to see you - fuck you're so beautiful," her teeth gritting and she moans as you do, your cum leaking down her wrist and abby whimpers, going down to lick and tase you. her hips humping you leg desperately as she sucks your clit into her mouth and stills her fingers if only to readjust them so she can keep fucking them into you.

you cum so quickly around her "jesus fuck, abigail," you yelp -- her full name falling from your mouth like a command and her body twitches as she cums, whimpering and moaning around you clit. tears leaking down her face as she sputters into you, fingers locking up inside you.

"god, so good -- you're so good to me abby," you gulp and abby licks her fingers and then comes up to kiss you. "i am, and i'm gonna keep you safe - treat you good, no one will ever treat you like i do, i love you baby," abby kisses you before you can reply.

her fingers sinking into you so deep again your eyes cross and when abby hears you say "i love - love it abby love you" she grunts, her fingers fucking faster into you - kissing and sucking marks into your neck and chest.

"mine," she grunts into you, "you're mine baby, not letting you go - ever," you'll agree with pretty much anything she says at this point, dizzy with pleasure you can't quite compose yourself as she clambers onto the bed and handles your legs, folding you in half and sinking her lubed cock into you.

abby bucks and snaps her hips into you. her strap stretching you, so deep your belly aches with each thrust. "god you're so fucking tight," abby moans, one hands starting to play with your nipples and then rubbing your clit and the other wrapping around your throat.

"my girl," abby whimpers with such faith as if it's the end of a prayer. your legs twitch and you hum lowly as you squirt around her, "christ, yes yes thank you baby, god give me your cum that's it," she moans, snapping her hips and then pulling out gently just to lap at your pussy, her legs falling over her shoulders.

abby has to hold you down as she cleans and licks your taste from your thighs and cunt. "good girl, so good for me," abby whines laying kisses to your mound and then belly, your breasts and chest. she kisses you neck and cheeks and eyelids. pressing a final kiss to your mouth.

"mine," abby sighs happily as you cuddle into her side.

🤫🏷️ @lesbian-useless @sexysapphicshopowner @iamaboringrattat @lavendersgirl @emiliabby (comment to be added to tag list xx)

[pitchsidestories]

golden girl II Alexia Putellas x Jenni Hermoso x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1732

a/n: as always this is just fiction, your feedback is always welcome. We saw that other people recently wrote fics with a similar topic and just wanted to clarify that we had the idea while writing one night in ibiza, so all similarities are purely coincidental.❤️

You watched from behind the camera as Alexia carried a football and set herself up to take a free kick. The ball spun through the air and landed perfectly in the top right corner of the goal.

You beamed.

This would make a nice video for the Spanish national teams social media sites.

As Alexia proudly turned towards the camera, her eyes met yours for a brief moment. She smiled, suddenly all flustered.

You held back a laugh to not ruin the video. Only once the recording stopped, you said: “Well done, babe!“

Alexias smile grew wider and you could have sworn the she even blushed.

“Ew!“, Jenni commented from somewhere behind you.

You turned to see her grimace in mock disgust.

Alexia barely glanced at her: “Shut it, Jenni.“

“No.“, the dark-haired player replied quickly and determinedly, similar to a stubborn child.

“Ignore her.“, you laughed as Alexia walked towards you and pulled you in by the waist for a kiss. Her gaze was still directed towards Jenni.

“Stop making out.“, she said and wrinkled her nose, repulsed by the showcase of affection.

Alexia only smirked at her: “I’m sorry but this point goes to me.“

“Whatever.“, Jenni rolled her eyes.

You were well acquainted with their bickering. They were both so ambitious, even when it came to you they always tried to one-up each other. This could go on forever if you didn’t put an end to it.

“Sorry, girl. But I’m not a trophy to be won.“, you said calmly and walked away without looking at them again.

Still, you could feel their eyes lingering as you walked towards the other players.

“Oh, little Miss Independent is back.“, Jenni teased, slight annoyance vibrating in her voice.

Alexia raised her eyebrows: “Also that was a lie, she clearly loves it.“

“Of course she does.“

“Just look at her.“, the Barcelona captain said, nodding in the direction where you were talking with Laia and Ona.

Another smile played on Jennis lips: “I love it when she’s acting all innocent.“

“Walking around, giving hugs to everyone. Oh, that Ona hug was extra long.“, Alexia commented your actions.

“She knows this doesn’t work, right?“

Behind all of the jokes and teasing however, was the slight sting of jealousy.

You didn’t notice the two player approaching you, you were too focused on your conversation with Ona.

“Oh my god, really, Oni?“, you laughed.

The defender went quiet: “Yes, uhm…“

“We definitely need to go on a walk with our dogs after the Olympics.“, you continued happily.

“We do.“

“Sweet.“, Alexia said cooly.

“Huh?“ You turned towards her, one eyebrow raised in expectation of a good excuse for interrupting your talk.

Jenni just smirked: “Quit flirting with Ona, you already have our attention.“

“I wasn’t flirting with her, we’re just good friends.”, you corrected her annoyed.

 “Quit rolling your eyes.”, the raven-haired woman demanded grinning.

“You know exactly what you did.”, Alexia shook her head amused.

“No.”, you answered innocently.

“See? She’s playing blameless again.”, Jenni sighed.

With a devilish grin, the blonde midfielder hugged you from behind, whispering into your ear. “You’ll confess everything tonight.” Her words send a shiver down your spine.

“Tonight?”, you repeated quietly.

“Yes.”, she affirmed.

“But we’ve our first Olympic game tomorrow!”, you protested.

“Don’t worry about it.”, the older forward assured you, while driving her hand through her dark open hair nonchalantly. The urge to touch her like she did in that moment was almost overwhelming, but you hold yourself back.

“And the beds are really small.”, you thought out loud.

“We can make a big one out of the three.”, Alexia suggested rationally.

“Easy.”, Jenni nodded enthusiastically.

“I guess we could do that.”, you admitted.

“Leave that to us, y/n.”, the oldest winked at you.

“I’ll let you do it.” A staff member called your name, reminding you that you had to do an interview for national television. To your girlfriends you explained. “Shit, I got to go, media duties.”

“Have fun.”, Alexia responded before turning her head to face the dark-haired forward.

“Great, that gives us enough time for the project bed.”, Jenni clapped excitedly into her hands. The enthusiasm reminded her of a child when it was about to open it’s present.

“Let’s go.”, the blonde told the woman who played in Mexico now.

The small cardboard beds were quickly put next to each other to form a bigger one, ready to hold the three of you.

“I think we’re ready only y/n is missing.”, Jenni announced delighted. The level of anticipation has been rising to the next level, the warmth and the near Mediterranean Sea added to it and the sun was about to set painting the sky in the prettiest colours.

“I’ll go see where she’s.”, Alexia decided, the taller woman following her immediately, in the hallway their hands were almost touching.  

Meanwhile, you were too focused on answering the questions of the journalist to realize that your girlfriends turned up behind your back.

“Oh, I can’t wait for the tournament to start, it’s so special as it’s the first time for our team to play at the Olympics.”, you raved, beaming with pride.

“Why’s she smiling like that? Y/n’s genuinely excited, huh?”, Jenni asked the blonde surprised.

“She’s.”, Alexia agreed.

“I could watch her do interviews forever.”, she declared swooning over you. Her green eyes admiring your sight, the gestures you made while talking about something you clearly loved and were passionate about.

“With whom I’d like to do a jersey swap? Definitely Marta, she’s such a big inspiration and everything she did for the women’s game is incredible. The only problem here is that Ona and Alexia want hers too, so we’ll see who gets it in the end.”, you laughed light-heartedly.

“Of course she would say that.”, Alexia scoffed.

Jenni watched on as you answered more questions: “Those young girls are such media pros.“

“I think she’s finally done.“, Alexia said, seemingly relieved that you were unable to embarrass her anymore.

You politely said goodbye to the interviewer and got up up.

“Hey! Y/n!“, Jenni called.

You heaved a sigh and gave her a death stare: “Jennifer, you don’t need to shout when we’re in the same room!“

The dark-haired player shrugged: “Wasn’t sure you saw us.“

“I’d always see you two, even in a crowded room.“, you replied, shaking your head.

“Don’t flatter us.“, Alexia said with a half-smile.

Confusion flashed across your face: “No, I mean you two, Misa and Irene are usually the tallest in every room.“

Alexias face dropped: “Seriously? I thought you were trying to be cute!“

Before you could say anything about how ridiculous that assumption was, Jenni clapped her hands: “Anyways, it’s time to take this to bed.“

You cocked your head teasingly: “Oh, is it?“

“Yes, it is.“, Alexia agreed with her teammate.

“Let’s go then.“, you shrugged.

“About time.“

“We did our waiting!“, Jenni complained and scooped you up into her arms.

You shrieked as she carried you off towards her bedroom. “Jenni, put me down!“

Alexia followed behind, closing her eyes for a second like she was fighting a headache: “Children.“

“Ale, help!“, you begged but the Barcelona captain barely gave you any attention.

“No.“

Jenni threw you down on the bed they prepared earlier: “Finally!“

“Finally?“, you echoed. The bed wobbled as she laid down beside you.

“Yes.“

“Are we sure this is stable enough to hold us three?“, you worried as Alexia climbed on your other side.

You suddenly remembered why the beds at the Olympic village were made out of cardboard. It was supposedly to prevent athletes from having sex and this might have worked for some. But apparently whoever came up with this had never met Jenni and Alexia.

“Don’t worry about it, darling.��, Jenni said while brushing a strand of hair out of your face. As she leaned over, the cardboard made the typical noise of being crushed.

You yelled in surprise: “Jenni!“

“Careful!“, Alexia laughed, trying to grab Jennis arm. Her movement made the whole bed collapse in a pile of mattresses and flat cardboard.

“Oh my god.“, you breathed out once the initial shock wore off.

“We broke the bed.“, Alexia commented unhelpfully.

“Just great, you two geniuses.“ You tried to sound mad but the ridiculousness of the situation made you grin.

Jenni instead was extremely amused by this: “I’m sure this will bring us luck.“

“Since when do broken beads do that?“, Alexia frowned at her.

“You can trust me.“, she kept smiling.

“I sure hope you’re right.”, you remarked.

“Me too.”, the Blonde stared at the forward.

“Just believe me girl.”, Jenni answered with a smug smile on her lips.

“And where are we supposed to sleep now.”, Alexia questioned while nodding to the destroyed beds.

“We still have our mattresses. Can’t be more uncomfortable than the beds.”, the older woman proposed.

“Good point.”, you said while the three of you lay down on those, you in the middle.

“I guess that’s my life as a professional athlete now.”, the midfielder hid her face behind her hands.

“You two are such pillow princesses.”, Jenni commented.

“Coming from the real pillow princess here.”, you countered, elbowing her softly.

“Lies.”, the dark-haired woman clicked her tongue.

“Truth.”, you disagreed smiling.

“Shut up.”, Jenni requested.

“Make me.”, you responded, sticking your tongue out for a second.

“Don’t worry, amor. I will.”, she hummed, pinning your arms downs, so you were unable to move, while her eyes wandered from your face to your breasts, under her gaze your cheeks turned hot.

“Go on.”, you muttered, you didn’t want to wait any longer.

With that intention Jenni got down on you to give you a feverish kiss. Taking her time to devour this one.

“Ah silence.”, Alexia sighed happily beneath you.

“Way better, right?”, Jenni looked up.

“Definitely.”, the midfielder noted, kissing both of you before her eyes were closing, sleep was calling her name.

“Is she asleep already?”, you questioned.

“Yes, good night my golden girls.”, the oldest woman chirmed.

“Golden girls?!”, you repeated.

“Quiet.” The demand coming from Alexia.

You apologized with a kiss to your cheek.

It was time to sleep, tomorrow was a big day, you were about to play your country’s first Olympic women’s football game, you three and your team were about to write history. Or should you rather say herstory.

[4unnyr0se]

pookie pls can you write for gojo where reader and him are coworkers at jujutsu high and have a dynamic similar to utahime and gojo? and like yaga is always making them work together even tho they don’t like eachother, but Gojo lowkey gets off on reader being annoyed at him so there is *tension*? 🥺🥺🥺

❥ whole lotta attitude | satoru gojo

warnings: enemies to lovers, gojo is a dickhead but it's okay because he's gojo, fem! reader, unprotected sex, office sex (im a slut for office sex), multiple orgasms, wall sex, roughness, one hickey, spanking, oral sex (m! receiving), making out, filthy filthy words are spoken, hella sexual tension, reader hates gojo but gojo loooooves her, gojo gets slapped once, degrading, praise, hair pulling, hate(?) sex, gojo texts like a super senior, a little bit of a textfic but not rlly, fluff at the end

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 3.6k

Jujutsu High was quiet today. That wasn’t unusual because most of the students were either out on missions or in Shokos’ office experiencing whatever the hell she called “medicine.” The quiet was nice, strangely calming, and reassuring. Being a jujutsu sorcerer yourself, calm was a foreign feeling. The cool breeze blew your hair softly in the wind, the songbirds tweeting a melody that was most becoming on this quiet say. You took a deep breath in as you leaned against a wooden pole, admiring how clear the sky was. Everything was simply perfect. If tomorrow was your last day alive, today would be the most wonderful send-off.

“Hey there princess! I missed you!” 

And just like that, there was no more peace. No more tranquility, no more sing-song bird crap. There’s only Satoru Gojo and his humongous ego that crushes anyone within a 50-foot radius. 

His deep voice was laced with a sickly sweet playful tone that made you want to grab his collar and punch him right in his perfect nose. God, you fucking hated him. He was the bane of your existence with his smug attitude and that stupid infinity that he only turned off when you were around. Did he seriously think you were that weak, and he didn’t even need to use infinity because he could defeat you within a millisecond? Stupid fucking handsome bastard, you hated him with every fiber of your being. 

“What, you’re ignoring me now? Don’t be like that, it’s not nice!” Gojo laughed and practically teleported to where you were sitting, his eyes no doubt sparkling under that black blindfold he always wore. 

You groaned and rolled your eyes, crossing your arms and looking away from the smug bastard. “Fuck off, Gojo. I was having a perfectly peaceful afternoon before your very existence ruined it for me.” You pinched your temple with your index finger and thumb, rubbing the stressed skin. “I was calm for once in my damn life. You really do have a talent for making me wish I was six feet under.”

Gojo playfully pouted and shifted himself to your other side, taking your hand off your temple. He cradled it with his own, royally pissing you off in the process. “Why are you always so grumpy all the time, huh? Is it because your students are always out on missions instead of keeping little ol’ your company?” He mocked slightly, letting go of your hand. His blue eyes sparkled beneath his blindfold, filled with mischief. “I could keep your company, you know that right? Or is Little Miss Grumpy Pants too high and mighty to give me a shot?”

“I would literally rather make out with Jogo than spend more time with you than I’m legally required.”

“Ouch, that hurt.”

“Too bad, so sad.” You smirked, shoving him away. If anyone else had seen that they would have been shocked. The mighty Satoru Gojo, pushed to the ground by a grade two sorcerer. You rose up from the wooden desk and dusted yourself off, walking away as quickly as you could in your tennis shoes.

“I always look forward to these meetings you know!” Gojo yelled at you in the distance only to see the faintest image of your middle finger wiggling at him. Gojo smirked and put down the hem of his blindfold, his hair returning to its usual upright position. 

You stormed back into your office and locked the door shut, sliding down against the mahogany doorframe in exhaustion. How was it possible that just being in his presence absolutely drained you of all resolve? Was he really that strong, or was he just super fucking annoying? You had no idea, no one ever had any idea when it came to Satoru Gojo. 

The beautiful day finally came to an end and you got back to your apartment, collapsing onto your couch. Most jujutsu sorcerers had house provided to them by their clans, but that was not your case. Your neighbors thought you were a teacher at some religious school deep in the country side. It was the best excuse you could come up with for being gone for practically days at a time. Maybe the only bus to the train station broke down or something, any old excuse like that in order to keep the nosy (and mostly elderly) fellow tennents off your back.

“Fuck my life…” You groaned, placing your head in your hands as you stumbled over to your cozy bedroom, it’s warm environment almost giving you a hug in its own way. You slipped into your pajamas and curled up under the covers, setting your alarm on your phone for the next morning. Just as you were about to close your eyes, your phone started to buzz. At first it was just a single vibration, probably a text from your mother or something. But the buzzes and vibrations kept coming until your phone was practically moving itself off the bed.

You groaned in annoyance and turned over, checking the notification center to see who the hell had the nerve to text you nine times in a row. And sure enough, sporting the contact photo of a .5 that he took of himself when he stole your phone that one time, Satoru fucking Gojo had spam texted you at 11:41PM.

“What the actual hell?” You whispered, unlocking your phone to see what could possibly be this important. Nothing was ever this important past 10PM, not even if your apartment building was on fucking fire.

The messages plagued your screen, his smirking face in the contact photo made you even more angry. And yet a faint blush found itself creeping up against your face. Maybe it was the sheer excitement of a man texting you at night, or maybe deep down you actually liked Gojo. You smacked yourself lightly on the cheek, trying to erase that thought from your sleep-ridden mind.

Worst person alive: heyyyy

Worst person alive: r u up???

Worst person alive: theres no way u actually went to bed, omg ur such a grandma

Worst person alive: im bored talk to me

Worst person alive: megumi wont answer my texts :(( i think he hates me

Worst person alive: i know ur awake, u were active three minutes ago on insta

Worst person alive: ik u blocked me on their but jokes on u i have 5 other accounts

Worst person alive: pls pls pls pls talk to me im dying over here princess

Worst person alive: btw yaga assigned us on a mission tmrw mwah

Your eyed widened at the last message, your hands gripped the phone with white-knuckle strength. “Fucker!” You yelled, turning off your phone before melting under the covers. Why did Yaga have to do this to you? You and Gojo together was torture enough, but now you had to do actual work with each other? Gojo was grossly incompetent at anything that didn’t involve exorcising cursed spirits. 

You sighed and closed your eyes, silently praying that a curse would somehow break into your bedroom and murder you right then and there. But unfortuanly, you woke up to your alarm blaring in your ear the next morning.

Gojo and yourself were sat in Yaga’s office, Gojo smirking at you the entire time. You blushed under his gaze, hands gripping the edges of your seat as you waited for Yaga to tell you what the assignment was. Was Yaga being late on purpose just to mess with you? Did you manage to piss him off somehow? A million questions were flying through your mind and there was no answer in sight. 

“I saw you read my messages princess.” Gojo finally spoke, leaning forward. He was significantly taller over you, his towering muscular frame intimating you. “Why didn’t you respond? I was really bored. It’s rude to ignore your friends.” He spoke, that same sticky and syrupy voice coming back to haunt you.

“Maybe that’s because we aren’t friends, Gojo.” You scoffed, flipping your hair behind your back. “Could you please just shut up until Yaga gets here? If I have to listen to you mock me again I might actually explode.” Sighing, you placed your face in your hands.

“Actually,” Gojo purred, getting up from his seat only to sit down in Yaga’s velvet office chair. “Yaga doesn’t have a mission for us, princess.” He kicked his feet up on the desk, taking off his blindfold. His snowy white hair fell into a beautiful mess, with his painfully gorgeous blue eyes lighting up his already hellishly handsome face.

You looked up from your hands to raise an eyebrow, your face immediately turning a bright red upon seeing Gojo without his signature blindfold. “I’m sorry, what? I don’t follow.”

Gojo tutted and threw the black fabric onto your lap, his eyes still staring at your blushing face. Gojo found it simply adorable how you would always get so flustered, so annoyed in his presence. How you would always deny being attracted to him, how you swore up and down that he was put on this Earth to make your life a living hell. But he noticed that you would always squeeze your thighs together when he spoke. It was precious, really. How you thought you could hide your painfully obvious desire for him.

“Ae you hard of hearing or something, princess?” Gojo purred, leaning forward to he could grab onto the collar of your navy blue work uniform. With just a snap of his wrists his face was mere centimeters away from your own, the tips of your noses were pressed up against each other so perfectly. You felt your breathing quicken, the atmosphere in Yaga’s office so thick you could cut it with a butter knife. “I said that Yaga never gave us a fucking mission. I just wanted to see you again.” He breathed out, his steaming air causing the hair on the back of your neck to stand up. His grip on your collar tighten, his eyes were filled with desire. Desire for you that’s long overdue to be broken.

Your brows furrowed at you gripped onto his wrist, trying your best to pry his hand away from your uniform collar. Twisting and turning his wrist every which way turned out ot be fruitless, causing you to grow ever more angry and flustered. Fuck Gojo and his superhuman abilities, fuck him for being the strongest. 

Instead, your hand came flying at his face. Your palm collided with his flesh, the cold stinging sensation snapping Gojo out of his lustful trance. His spare hand crept onto his cheek, rubbing the mark softly. You gulped, nervous to see how the strongest jujutsu sorcerer would react to getting slapped across the face by a grade two. 

He smirked and threw his head back slightly, a dark chuckle emitting from his throat. He looked back down at you, his grip on your collar so strong that you started to choke. “God, I was hoping you would fucking do that.” 

In an instant his lips were on yours, roughly clashing against each other. It took every fiber of his being to not rip all your clothes off right then and there, to bend you over Yaga’s desk and fuck you senseless. Oh how long Gojo had waited to feel your plump lips being ravaged by his own, and how deliciously rewarding it was to play the long game. Finally your lips were melding perfectly with each other, his tongue picking up just the faintest taste of peach chapstick. 

Gojo pulled away from the kiss after about a minute, a thick strand of saliva connecting your lips. He sighed in pleasue as his eye landed on your flustered face, your mouth still agape like a slut.

“So fucking pretty like this,” he muttered, stepping out from behind the desk. He pulled you out of your chair and trapped you against the wall, his muscular torso being so easily felt under the think fabric of the uniforms the school provided. “Been wanting to kiss you since forever, y’know.” He mumbled, dragging his callosued hands up and down the clothed snatches of your wasit. “Your lips taste even better than I imaged, sweetness.”

You blushed at his sultry words, the faint glim in his ocean blue eyes only making your knees evern weaker. Slowly but carefully, your arms wrapped themselves around his broad shoulders. “You’re still on my shitlist,” you muttered, standing on the tips of your toes to meet his eyeline.

“And you’re as stubborn as ever, princess.” Gojo purred picking you up by the bottoms of your thighs, Your legs wrapped instinctively around his waist, making it look like a scene straight out of a movie. “Such a pretty mouth, you gonna let me fuck it?” He whispered, rubbing circled on your bare thighs. The modest jujutsu skirt you wore covered your legs quite nicely, so you never really felt the need to wear tights. And that drove Gojo fucking wild.

“Depends, what’s in it for me?” You smirked, tugging lightly on the baby hairs at the back of his head. Gojo hissed in pleasure, kind of proud that you were being equally as bratty to him as he was to you. 

“The best fuck you’ll ever get, plus some more.” Gojo let go of your thighs, letting you drop onto your knees. You looked up at him, gulping in anticipation as you saw the imprint of his throbbing erection covered by his pants. “You gotta get me prepared first, princess. Or else I might not fuck that pussy as good, got it?” His voice was dripping with desire for you as his expert hands pulled down his pants, tossing them aside along with his boxers. His cock tapped against his shirt, leaving the smallest precum stain.

You bit down on your lip at the sight of his cock, moving yourself foreward. Ever so carefully, your right hand gripping onto the base of his cock. Tongue falling out of your mouth, you took his cock in your wet cavern slowly, your cheeks hollowing out to accommodate his girth and length.

“Shit princess, just like that. Yeah, I knew you would be good at suckin’ dick.” Gojo praised, offering you a slanted smile as your hands stroked what your mouth couldn’t fit. His large hand tangled itself into your messy hair, tugging on the roots ever so gently. His hips bucked into your mouth ever so slowly, almost painfully slow. He treated you like you were so fragile, sharp contrast to when he had you pinned against the wall with his tongue shoved down your throat.

He groaned in pleasure as his cock his the back of his throat, his hips driving his member down your throat even faster. His grip on your hair tighten, causing a small pool of tears to well in the corner of your eye. A singular droplet ran down your pretty little face, which Gojo thought was just the cutest little thing.

“Oh, is my princess crying? What, my dick to big for your slutty little mouth?” His hips stopped snapping into your face, pulling your mouth off of his member slowly. “Well, if you can’t handle my dick in your mouth,” He grabbed your arm, throwing you against the desk. His pushed you down so your face was against the hard mahogany wood, with your ass up and on display for Gojo to smack. “Then maybe your pretty pussy will be able to handle me, hm?”

He shoved your skirt above your ass, the blue material bunching the divet in your waist. His hand ran over your soaked panties, shoving them aside to expose your soaked core to the cold office air. “So pretty f’me…” Gojo mumbled, gathering up some of your slick on his thumb and popping it inside of his mouth. “Delicious too, maybe you’ll be my dinner one day. Wouldn’t you like that, princess?” He teased, his hand cracking against the supple flesh of your perfect ass.

“Fuck!” you cried out, your hands gripping onto the wooden desk for dear life. You grew increasingly frustrated, especially knowing that Gojo was taking immense pleasure in making you wait tt get fucked. “Dammit Gojo, just fuck me already!” You demanded, your eyes being slightly covered by your mess of hair falling in front of them. 

He smacked his hand across your ass again, alighting his cock with your sobbing entrance. “You sure got a whole lotta attitude, princess.” He purred, teasing your hole with his mushroom head. “I’ll be sure to fuck it outta you, don’t you worry your pretty little head.”

He shoved his cock inside of you, hissing as your tight walls enveloped his member. You cried out in both pain and pleasure, having never experienced someone as big or as girthy inside of you. Sure, you had slept around before but this time he might actually make you cum. You wouldn’t have to fake an orgasm just for it to end.

“Shit, Gojo!” You screamed, lifting your head up from the desk to meet his gaze from behind. “Y-you’re too fuckin’ big, you know that?”

Gojo smirked and started to slowly thrust himself in and out of your weeping cunt, the sound of his groans mixing with your moans of pleasure filling the chilly office. “God, you’re so fuckin’ tight. Squeezing me already, princess? Good fuckin’ slut.” He grunted, pulling your hair back so your neck was against his mouth. His hips were now snapping furiously at your ass, his balls clapping against the skin. “You won’t mind if I give you a little mark, right? Gotta make sure you remember being bent over like this, pretty thing.”

His sharp teeth bit down onto your neck, sucking a nasty purple circle right where your jugular would be. The stimulation was utterly overwhelming, your mouth was agape and your throat was starting to hurt from all your cries. “Fuck, such a good slut for me.”

Gojo’s rough and callosued hands reached under your top to grope one of your tits, his fingers pinching and rubbing your nipple under the thin fabric. He could feel your orgasm was fast approaching the way you squeezed onto his cock, almost like your body was trying to suck him in even deeper inside of you. “Gojo, fuck! T-Too fucking handsy!” You managed to moan out, your brain slowly starting to turn to mush as the coil in your belly threatened to snap at any minte. “Fuck, gonna fucking cum!”

Gojo smirked and smacked your ass once more, slipping his hand from behind you to rub on your sensitive clit. “Cum all over this cock baby, f-fuck. Be a good fucking girl.” He demanded in your ear, his fingers now furiously rubbing themselves on your clit while his cock hit every place it needed to.

With a wanton gasp you threw your head back onto his shoulders, your orgasm washing over you like tsunami or a tidal wave. Wave after wave of pure bliss crashed over your every nerve, your eyes feeling fuzzy as you swore you could see stars.

“Fuck, holy fuck! Gojo, oh my fucking God!” you sobbed, your bottom lip trembling as you came down from your high. Gojo sighed and began to kiss your neck gently, his thrusts becoming faster and desperate as he felt his own euphoria approaching.

“Shit, gonna cum princess. Lemme cum inside of you, yeah? God you’re so fucking warm and tight, fuck!” He moaned into your neck, the movement of his hips becoming staggering and sloppy as his hot ropes of sticky cum coated your insides, filling you up so nicely. “F-fuck, oh my god…”

Gojo pulled out of you, smirking to himself as he saw his cum leak from your sloppy pussy. “Fucking amazing, princess.” He bent down to pick up his boxers and pants, putting them on quickly. 

You got up from leaning over the desk and turned around, your face flushed and your hair sticking to your sweaty forehead. Your hands still gripping onto the table, your pretty lips slightly agape. “Holy shit…I think that was the best sex I’ve ever fucking had.” You breathed out, brushing the sweaty babyhairs out of your face.

Gojo smiled and bent down slightly, kissing your nose with a gentleness that was the complete opposite of how he fucked you. “I’ve been wanting to do that sicne I met you, you know.” 

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, adjusting your stretched-out shirt collar. “Stop lying, you already fucked me. No need to lie anymore, Gojo.”

He frowned and grabbed onto your hand, his thumb carefully rubbing onto the back of it. “I’m not lying, you know.”

Raising an eyebrow you looked into his blue eyes, curious as to why there wasn’t a hint of deception swirling around in his oceans of blue. “Gojo…are you being serious?” You whispered, a blush once again covering your face. It wasn’t a blush of desire but a blush of shyness, like you were sixteen years old and just got confessed to.

“Satoru,” he spoke, bringing your hand to cup his pale face. “Call me Satoru, please.”

You smiled and rolled your eyes once more, your hand gently petting his flushed face. You took a step towards him, allowing Gojo to wrap his other hand around your waist. You two held each other in Yaga’s office, the scent of sex and passionate still filling up the otherwise stiff air.

“What are you gonna call me then, Satoru?” You softly spoke, standing on the tips of your toes so your lips were hovering against his once more. Gojo offered you a gentle smile, pecking your lips tenderly.

“I’m gonna call you mine.”

[ncsdlr]

Idk what this is, but enjoy ig

-----------------

"You're such a stupid fucking slut. You'd let anyone fuck this juicy pussy, wouldn't you?"

You didn't know who this was, just that the voice sounded familiar. Female, someone close to you, someone you know very well, someone you hang out with on the regualr. All those details, but still no conclusion.

You knew you liked the way they fucked you from the back though.

"My darling, such soft skin you have. Makes me feel like I have ruin it for you," she chuckled, "how do you think," she paused and brought a sharp knife to your throat, "this would feel carving into your supple skin? Cutting you open until you bleed out. I'd definitely rather use this instead of a pen to write on you."

"Oh, my god," you breathed.

"Yeah? That sound nice to you?"

You moaned as you pressed for her name, "who- are you? Why are you doing this- ah"

"Honey, you know me. It honestly pains me that you don't recognize my voice."

That's true, the voice was familiar, but fuck you couldn't for the life of you figure out who this person was. I mean, you could probably guess if it weren't for the huge cock filling you all the way up and brushing over your g-spot with every thrust.

"You know me. Tell me my name and you'll get to cum. Come on, baby."

You wailed pathetically at her command, honestly too muddled to obey anything and anyone. "No, please let me cum! I don' know your name, but p-please let me cum. You feel t'good!"

"That's not fucking happening."

She grabbed you by your hair and pushed your head into the pillow under you, pulling her cock out suddenly causing an empty feeling wash over you and pull a muffled whimper out from your throat. Your whines filled her ears before a shrill scream did, the scream being a result of slaps the rained fire on your bottom.

"Who am I?" She growled in your ear.

And when you wailed out a pitiful "I dont know" followed by a cut-off apology, the woman only intensified her onslaught upon your already-beaten ass.

"Wrong answer, baby."

She repositioned her body and pushed her cock inside your sopping pussy again, fucking you with a vigour that didnt seem to be there before. "Tell me who I am, Y/N."

When you gave no answer, only squeaking and moaning into the pillow, soaking it with your drool and tears of frustration, she spoke again, "I'll give you three clues, and if by the last one you still don't know who I am, well, I guess we'll be here all night, and trust me that won't be fun for you."

The woman turned you over and used her hand to cover your eyes, pressing down on your tear-stained and drool-covered face to continue her thrusts without fail.

"Listen up, baby, here comes the first clue. You've known me your whole life." The sounds that followed were moans and whimpers, then a disappointed click of the woman's tongue, "Still nothing? I guess that was my bad. That was kinda shallow."

"Please, please," you sobbed as your core avhed for release, your orgasm teetering between snapping and holding together.

"Alright then, second clue. I've called you beautiful more than once." When you whimpered, she chuckled, "Oops, was that too shallow again, honey? Too fucking bad."

"I'm gonna fucking cum. Would you like that? My cum filling you pretty pussy up?"

"God, yes. Please fill me up. Dump you cum into me. Can I cum too? Wan' cum with you, please."

"D you know who I am now?" You whimpered, "Thought so- oh. I'm cumming, I'm fucking cumming."

With one final thrust, the woman came inside you, ropes of cum shoot deep inside your womb, no doubt ensuring pregnancy. The sensation made you shiver, it almost being enough to unravel the coil in your tummy, but you held strong, fearing what could cum if you cum without permission.

"Gods, that felt good," the woman panted. "Last chance, honey. Who am I?" She asked continuing to fuck you like she hadn't just dumped a month's worth of cum.

"Last clue, make it worth it, darling. You have a secret crush on me."

Your heart dripped the same time your orgasm tore through uncontrollably. You screamed her name out as you came, your hands finding home in the woman's biceps.

"Wanda! Wanda! Wanda!"

The both of you panted, Wanda's hands moving off of your eyes. Her smirking face revealed to you, her soft gaze finding your blissed out one. Her fingers carded through your hair as the two of you stayed locked in a sultry haze.

"Good girl, baby. You did so well for me."

------------------

So, yeah....

[phoneuserhana333]

.°˖✧ neighbor!doctor!abby / neighbor!producer!reader nsfw headcanons .°˖✧

tags: enemies to lovers, dom!abby, emotional sex, loser!abby tbh, perv!abby, voyerism, overstimulation, fingering (reader receiving).

PART1 — PART2 — PART3 — N(SFW)HC

• before you two even started dating, abby thought you were hot. too friendly, annoying and a menace, but hot.

• she spent countless bedtimes with her hand down her pajama pants, panting your name into the cold new york night. and when her release arrived, she would feel embarrassed, but that wouldn’t stop her from hugging her pillow and imagining it was you.

• you could say that abby was suffering from a severe case of i-can-fix-heritis. and you were the reason.

• one day, abby came back from work later than usual. her eyes, which instinctively lingered on your windows (she liked to know if you were home or if she had a few hours of peace and quiet), caught a glimpse of something interesting

• you. completely undressed, in the smallest pair of see through red underwear, semi-hidden by curtains. abby froze, her darkened eyes not leaving your body. it took her a second to realize that you were dancing, perhaps getting ready?

• her eyes tore away from your hips and found your breasts; one gently cupped by your hand as you fixed your hair and looked around your room. she stared at your nipples and god- why were they hard?!

• abby’s wakeup call was when you reached down for something, ass facing the window which revealed a rounded outline of your pussy lips. but what really caught her eye was a tiny wet patch, darkening the red fabric.

• it’s safe to say that abby ran inside, eager to shove her fingers into her cunt and thrust trust thrust as quickly as she could handle until she felt the heel of her palm bump her clit. why the fuck were you wet?!

• abby couldn’t look at you in the eyes for the next week.

• a few weeks after this incident, was the first time you fucked. december rolled around and most of your friends were celebrating the holidays, leaving you alone in the city, playing loud ballads all day to drown your sadness and the seasonal loneliness.

• abby came back from work late, noticing the lights were on and the music was loud. but when she noticed the lack of voices in your home, a feeling that something was wrong came over her.

• she couldn’t help but walk up to your door and knock.

• she was greeted by an equally tired, tear stained face. you turned the music down, apologizing quietly and trying to shut the door, which abby stopped with her palm.

“wait- do you… wanna come over? it’s christmas…”

“… to do what abby? we don’t really like each other.”

“we’ll figure it out.”

• and so you found yourself inside your enemy/hot neighbor’s home with a small overnight bag. abby made dinner, you opened a bottle of champagne.

• it felt… nice. domestic even. it made you emotional all over again. one and a half movie later, you felt tears stream down your face, and you unexpectedly hugged abby.

• this was the first time you two touched each other, and it set abby ablaze. you were soft and you smelled nice, your chest was pressed against her and the small of your back was perfect for holding on while-

“hey, um. thanks for inviting me over. i had a really shitty day.”

• abby nodded, pressed you closer and shushed your cries. she pondered, would she ruin the moment if she asked- was it too soon?

“i can make it better, if you want?”

• and so you ended up whimpering on her couch, legs pushed up into a mating press, with abby’s burning hot mouth on your clit, and two deliciously thick fingers pulsing against the most sensitive spot you didn’t even know you had.

“c’mon baby, thaaaat’s it. such a good girl when you wanna be”

• abby moved up to kiss you, shushing your whimpers and moans as her fingers still worked you open, now rougher than before.

“sound so pretty, sweetheart- fuck”

• in that moment, abby appreciated how angelic your voice was; she always thought you were a good singer, but you moaning her name desperately solidified that. she connected your foreheads, glancing down at your needy pussy as she sped up her pace, causing your back to arch.

“you wanna be good and cum for me, hm? you wanna be good for abby?”

• and with that you were sent over the edge, trembling legs closing involuntarily, only to be pushed open by abby’s firm hand- she wanted to see your pussy spasm around her fingers. her icy gaze was glued to your body, you were so tight when you came that it made her feel dizzy. her pace slowed down and she felt your body relax, pussy still twitching around her fingers. her eyes searched yours to see if you were okay, making you feel strangely fuzzy.

• just when you were about to grab abby’s arm and pull her down to meet your lips for a kiss, you felt her pace start up again, fast as ever, leaving you a wide-eyed choked up moaning mess. you were too sensitive and abby was smirking, one hand holding your legs open and while the other fucked you into overstimulation, thumb finding your puffy clit.

“not done with you yet. gotta pay me back for being a bad neighbor, don’t you princess?”

• abigail anderson whispers against your lips, kissing your moans away as she continued to finger fuck you. christmas isn’t bad at all, you think.

[pablitogavii]

Gavi wanting yn to play with his hair please

There for you always

I could never understand why he needed to hate me so much. Ever since Aurora introduced us, Pablo found a reason to mock and tease me about every little thing.

During the festival in Sevilla, I was the only girl he didn't compliment and say my dress is beautiful. I felt like an outsider whenever he was there..

During Aurora's birthday, it was no different. He greeted all of her friends but when it came to me he just said underneath his breath "you again" and moved away. I want to know what I did to deserve him treating me this way.

"Ignore him amiga! He probably has a secret crush on you!" Aurora once said to me long ago and I felt my heart skip a beat..what hurt the most is the fact that I liked Pablo..a lot..and with time I think I began loving him too.

Gavira family asked me to look after their family home in Barcelona while they are away on a trip to United States and I agreed making sure their plants are watered and their house stays clean.

Pablo didn't know I was staying there, so when he showed up one night unannounced finding me in the living room curled up in a ball he sighed carrying me to bed.

I woke up in a guest room confused only to find him in the kitchen making breakfast for himself before his practice.

"P..Pablo? Did..did you carry me to bed?" I asked shyly but he was having the same stern face as always.

"You should learn to lock the door before falling asleep, enana" he said and I sighed nodding my head and walking to make myself a cup of morning coffee. Something in my stomach was fluttering thinking of Pablo carrying me to bed..it wasn't the first time he showed his sweet side to me.

One time when I came to watch his game with Aurora and the rest of her friends, he noticed goosebumps on my arms putting his jacket over my shoulders without a word..when I said thank you, he told me to start carrying my own jackets. Somehow he always needed to ruin the moment with his rudeness.

I accidentally ran into him thinking about it spilling some coffee on the floor and making him groan loudly.

"Dios! You're so clumsy! And all over all the damn time!" he sounded angry and I felt my heart hurt.

He didn't want me here and it was his house..I apologized starting to clean the floor but he placed his hand on mine taking the towel and cleaning it himself asking if I got burnt. I said no.

"Good. Just sit and I'll make you coffee. You can have some breakfast if you want too" he said and I smiled nodding and taking a bit of his toast while he finished it all up.

"Thank you Pablo.." I said when he sat down and he started eating his eggs while being on his phone. It didn't matter that he was cold when he gave me at least some of his warmth..it's all I needed.

"Are you going to uni today?" he asked after packing and getting ready to leave for training.

"I don't have classes this week, so I'll be here if you want me to make some lunch?" I wanted to be nice feeling my cheeks blush at the thought of having this "domestic" life with Pablo.

"No, I'm good. Bye" he said and I nodded knowing that would be the answer.

"Bye Pablo. Have a good training." I said and he left to his black Audi outside as I watched him leave from the window not knowing that he was thinking similar thoughts as me in that moment..us two..living together..like a real life couple.

It was barely evening when Aurora called me and I put my book away.

"Hey, amiga! How is US?" I asked but her voice was nervous and scared.

"Y/n! Thank God you answered! Could you get Pablo home from training? He's not feeling well, they said it's a high fever?" she said and I felt panicked jumping up and calling an uber to the sport center.

"I'm here to pick up Pablo Gavi..I'm his.." I said to the man at the front door being interrupted by Pablo's tired voice as he tossed his keys to me.

"Try not to crash my car! Let's go." he said and I nodded seeing that he was very pale and there was wet sweat on his forehead.

"I can give you some pain medication when we get home.." I spoke seeing him hold onto his head as he leaned on the door while I drove with rain pouring all around us.

" I don't need your help! You're not my damn girlfriend!" he said bitterly and I swallowed nodding my head and staying silent for the rest of the night. He was right..I am nobody to him..so I just left him alone for the rest of the night when we got home.

When I was about to go to bed, I secretly checked on Pablo who seemed to be sleeping in his room. Just as I was about to fall deep sleep, I heart him yelling in pain from his room.

I ran to him opening the door seeing him tossing and turning and holding onto his head. His hair was all wet from seat and he was shaking. I sat on the bed shaking him awake.

"Pablo! Please, wake up" I said and he opened his eyes breathing heavily and staring at my eyes deeply.

"Y/n..it..hurts" he said and I nodded touching his face which to my surprise he let me scared of how hot he was underneath my touch. His fever wasn't breaking!

"Pablo, you're burning up! Let me get you cold compress" I was about to move away but he wouldn't let me grabbing my hand rather roughly and pulling me back.

"Don't go..please don't leave me..I'm scared y/n..and I need you" he said and I felt my heart beating fast at those words..I wanted him to say them for so long and now he did..he needs me and doesn't want me to go.

"I'm not going to leave you Pabs..I promise..I'm just going to bring you some more medicine and something to help lower your fever okay?" I said touching his face again and he looked at me as a scared child nodding his head.

"Promise me you'll come back to me?" he said and I smiled. Never did Pablo ask for reassurance before..it was special.

"I promise.." I said and he smiled letting me rush downstairs to grab everything. When I returned, I helped him take another pill before touching his face with cold compress towel. He was shaking violently and I added blanket on top of him.

"it should start working soon Pabs.." I said gently removing the cold compress and he sighed.

"I'm so cold.." he said and I looked around but there was no more blankets in his room.

"Do you want me to go grab my blanket?" I said and he shook his head reaching for me pulling my waist closer as I was reaching over him hearing him whisper to me.

"Come here...please..only you can warm me up" he spoke and I felt. a-shiver move down my spine in that moment..he wanted me to lay down next to him?

"Pabs I don't.." I started but his arms held on tighter pulling me until I was on top of him our face inches apart.

"Please.." he spoke his hot breath fanning over my face making me blush bright red.

"Okay..okay I'm right here" I said laying next him underneath the covers while he quickly got on top of me laying his head on my chest moving until he got comfortable and I tried to control my heart from beating too fast in that moment.

"You're okay..I'm here" I said feeling him shaking so I started playing with his hair which seemed to calm him down a bit as he rested comfortably on top of my chest. When I thought he was sleeping, I stopped but quickly he looked up eyes watery and cheeks red from his fever..he looked so adorable in that moment.

"Y/n.." his lips were grazing mine and I froze "don't stop playing with my hair..please" he said looking at my lips but not daring to kiss them.

"Okay.."I said continuing to play with his curls but this time he just kept looking slowly moving to nuzzle his face into neck which made me shiver. He smelled my skin leaving a few wet kisses and I just let him laying back with my eyes closed. He doesn't know what he is doing..he's in delirium.

"You smell so good enana..and your skin is so soft on my lips..I wanted to taste you for so long.." he spoke and I couldn't believe his words in this moment..this couldn't be real.

"Pablo..I'm not your girlfriend" I said reminding him of his own words and his hold tightened like he was afraid of losing me.

"Are you someone's girlfriend?" he said and I felt my cheeks blushing. Was he really jealous right now??

"No..but.." I said but couldn't finish as he started kissing down towards my chest touching them and coming as far as kissing my stomach looking up into my eyes.

"Be mine enana..please forgive me for being rude to you, but I couldn't say that I like you" he spoke closing his eyes and kissing my hard nipples which made me moan lightly.

"Why..not?" I said and he looked up returning to my neck and leaving a few marks before touching my face and staring into my eyes.

"Because I'm an idiot..but I want you...need you" he said resting his sweaty forehead against mine and I blushed smiling which made him lean down and finally place his hungry lips onto mine.

We kissed for long few minutes until I pulled away making him lay back down onto my chest so he can get some well deserved rest. His nose was buried in my neck and his hand holding onto my breast possessively..it was a sight to see.

"Mine.." he would murmur from time to time until he finally fell asleep and I did as well resting my head against his own.

We got woken up by my mobile moving a little but he kept his head on top of my chest. I answered Aurora who started asking about Pablo making me embarrassed and nervous..I couldn't exactly tell her that I was in bed with her brother right now..

"yeah Rora he's fine now..you have a good days" I spoke while Pablo was purposefully kissing my neck pecking my lips from time to time while I gave him a warning glare. The his mom jumped on call making him smirk and start to kiss down my chest again.

"Thank you so much for caring for him, querida! I hope he didn't give you trouble?" Belen asked and Pablo smirked looking up at me while I blushed avoiding his eyes in embarrassment.

"No..he was very nice to me so no worries señora" I answered fighting an urge to moan as Pablo started sucking onto my tit waiting for me to finally hang up and be with him only.

"Tell him to call when he wakes up" she added before we hung up and I touched Pablo's hair making him look up and return to kiss my lips passionately.

"You're crazy!" I said and he smiled nodding his head and cuddling into me.

"How are you feeling?" I asked playing with his hair and he nodded holding me tightly.

"Much better..with my girl playing with my hair..and not leaving me when I needed her" he said and I smiled kissing the top of his head.

"I will never leave you Pabs..I promise" I said and he nodded closing his eyes wanting to get some more rest never feeling safer than in my arms.

This was real...I was his girl now<3

[reidmarieprentiss]

Spencer comforting reader when there on their period and him being the cutie potato he is ty!🫶🫶

A Gentle Embrace

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, comfort

Warnings/Includes: periods, blood, embarrassment, showering together

Word count: 1.4k

a/n: this is an adorable idea !! thank you for the request <333 i hope this is something like what you wanted !!

main masterlist

Y/N gets her period, and it’s a monster one. She is cramping aggressively, her stomach aches, her back aches, and her head aches. She wakes up in a puddle of her blood, ruining Spencer's nice green sheets. Her emotions start to boil up; most of all, she’s embarrassed and mortified about how he will react. She tries to get out of bed without waking him up, and she's successful, but he catches a glimpse of her walking to the bathroom. He sees the blood on her shorts, soaking through to her thighs. His half-asleep brain freaks out at the sight of his girlfriend covered in blood.

"Y/N?? What happened? Are you okay?" 

"Oh my god!" she yells, running into the bathroom and slamming the door.

Spencer immediately shoots up out of bed, now very worried about Y/N.

"Baby?" he softly knocks on the door, not knowing what’s going on. "What’s going on? Why were you bleeding?"

"Take a wild guess, genius."

Spencer ponders for a second before everything clicks. Realizing what’s going on, he feels a mix of relief and concern.

"Oh, Y/N, it’s okay," he says gently, trying to reassure her through the closed door. "I’ll change the sheets. Don’t worry about it."

Y/N sits on the edge of the bathtub, feeling tears of frustration and embarrassment welling up in her eyes. She takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself.

"Spence, it’s so embarrassing," she says, her voice cracking. "I didn’t mean to ruin your sheets. I don’t want you to see that"

"Hey, it’s no big deal," Spencer responds softly. "It's just sheets. And I’m a doctor. I’m more worried about you. Do you need anything? Painkillers? A hot water bottle?"

“You’re not a medical doctor, babe.” There’s a pause before Y/N responds, her voice small and vulnerable. "Could you bring me some painkillers and a glass of water, please?"

"Of course," Spencer replies immediately. "I’ll be right back."

As he moves around the apartment, gathering what she needs, Spencer thinks about how he can make her feel better. He fills a glass of water, grabs the painkillers, and finds a heating pad. He also picks up one of his softest, cleanest T-shirts and a pair of boxers for her to change into.

Returning to the bathroom, he knocks gently again. "Y/N, I’ve got everything you need. Can I come in?"

There’s a moment of silence before she replies, "Yeah, come in."

Spencer enters the bathroom and hands her the painkillers and water. "Here you go."

"Thank you," she whispers, taking the pills and drinking the water.

Spencer sets the heating pad beside her and hands her the T-shirt. "I brought you something more comfortable to wear. Take your time, and I’ll get the bed ready," he says, his voice soft and reassuring.

“Spence?” Y/N’s voice is small and hesitant, as if she’s afraid to ask for more.

“Yeah, baby?” Spencer responds immediately, his eyes full of concern and love.

“Will you shower with me?” she asks, her cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and vulnerability.

“Of course, my love,” Spencer replies without hesitation, his hand gently squeezing hers. “Can I change the sheets first?”

Y/N nods, feeling a rush of gratitude for her wonderful boyfriend. She looks up at him, her eyes brimming with gratitude and affection. "You’re being so sweet. I don’t deserve you," she murmurs, her voice thick with emotion.

Spencer crouches down to her level, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. His touch is tender, his eyes full of warmth. "You deserve everything, Y/N. Periods are tough, and I’m here for you. Always," he assures her, his voice steady and comforting.

She smiles weakly, feeling a bit better already. "I love you, Spencer," she says, her heart swelling with the emotion.

"I love you too," he replies, giving her a soft kiss on the forehead. "Now, let me change the sheets so we can shower. Why don’t you make sure the water is the right temperature?" he suggests, his tone gentle and encouraging.

Y/N nods again, feeling a wave of relief wash over her. She heads to the shower and turns on the water, adjusting it until it’s just right. The sound of the running water is soothing, a welcome distraction from her earlier embarrassment. Meanwhile, Spencer quickly strips the bed, working efficiently to replace the blood-stained sheets with fresh ones. His movements are brisk but careful, his mind focused on making everything perfect for her.

Once the bed is ready, Spencer joins her in the bathroom. He slips off his clothes and steps into the shower, where Y/N is already standing under the warm spray. She looks up at him, her eyes still showing traces of her earlier embarrassment, but also filled with trust and affection.

Spencer steps closer, wrapping his arms around her in a gentle hug. The warm water cascades over them, creating a soothing and intimate cocoon. "Feeling any better?" he asks softly, his breath warm against her ear.

"A little," she admits, resting her head against his chest. The steady beat of his heart is calming, a reminder that she’s not alone. "The water helps."

"I’m glad," he murmurs, kissing the top of her head. The simple gesture makes her feel cherished and loved. "Let’s get you cleaned up."

They take their time in the shower, Spencer being extra gentle as he helps her wash away the remnants of the rough morning. He massages her scalp as he shampoos her hair, his touch light and reassuring. Y/N feels the tension and discomfort slowly ebb away, replaced by a sense of comfort and safety.

After they’re both clean, Spencer helps Y/N out of the shower, wrapping her in a soft towel. He dries her off carefully, then helps her into the fresh T-shirt and boxers he had brought earlier. Y/N feels a profound sense of gratitude and love for him, more than words could express.

Luckily, Spencer had previously filled his bathroom with feminine products for Y/N, thinking it was unfair that she should have to pay for them and suffer once a month. He left her to tend to her business by herself. Once she returned to the bedroom Spencer makes sure Y/N is comfortable in bed, arranging the heating pad just right. He slides in beside her, pulling her close so she can rest her head on his chest once more.

"Thank you, Spencer," she whispers, her voice filled with emotion. The love she feels is almost overwhelming.

"Always," he replies, holding her tightly. His embrace is warm and secure, making her feel protected. "Do you want to watch a movie, baby? I grabbed my computer."

“You thought of everything, yes please. Can we watch How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days?” Y/N gave Spencer her best puppy eyes.

“Of course,” he chuckles, a playful glint in his eyes. “As long as you don’t get any ideas.”

“Never, my love,” she says, kissing him softly. The warmth of his lips against hers sends a comforting wave through her body, easing her anxiety.

As the movie starts playing in front of them, Spencer begins massaging Y/N’s lower stomach through the heating pad, his fingers working in gentle, soothing circles. The combination of the heat and his touch helps to further reduce her pain, making her feel more at ease.

Y/N snuggles closer to Spencer, feeling his steady heartbeat beneath her cheek. She glances up at him, noticing the way his eyes occasionally flicker from the screen to her, making sure she’s comfortable.

“Spence, you’re amazing,” she whispers, her voice filled with affection and gratitude.

He smiles down at her, his eyes warm and tender. “Anything for you, Y/N.”

They settle into a comfortable silence, the sounds of the movie filling the room. Y/N’s pain gradually subsides, replaced by a deep sense of contentment and love. As Spencer continues to massage her, she feels herself drifting off, the combination of his touch and the familiar movie lulling her into a peaceful state.

Spencer notices her eyelids growing heavy and shifts slightly to make her more comfortable. “You can sleep if you need to, baby,” he murmurs softly.

“Mm, just resting my eyes,” she replies, her voice drowsy.

He chuckles softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I’m sure, love.”

Y/N lets out a contented sigh, feeling completely safe and cherished in Spencer’s arms. As she drifts off to sleep, Spencer continues to watch the movie. His hand still gently rubbing her stomach, a smile on his lips as he watches over the woman he loves.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

a/n: also i would like to note that i did not choose how to loose a guy in 10 days because i assume people watch "chick flicks" (and who cares if you do) when they're on their periods ,, i chose it because it's been heavy on my mind lately and was the first movie i thought of lolol

[nyrasbloodyclover]

a hot welcome (modern!aegon targaryen x reader)

cw: smut, p in v, fingering, reader is a virgin, aegon targaryen is a perv, daeron bff,

a/n: i am not really satisfied with this, but i had to finish it. anyway, i am logging out for some time. see you soon!

"I need you to help me pack, Daeron."

"No you don't, do it yourself. In case you forgot, I have to pack too."

Since you two became friends in freshman year, you were inseparable. You helped each other study, you hung out all the time and now he asked you to accompany him on his trip to visit his family, since they lived across the country.

"I thought you were finished! We have to leave in an hour!"

"This is why you don't have any friends. You think anyone would want to put up with this?"

"And this is why you don't have a girlfriend!"

You could've gone for hours like that, but it was really time to go.

Thirty minutes later, you were finished, and on your way.

The flight was pretty short, and you felt the nerves kicking in. The main reason Daeron asked you to come with him was that he didn't really like his family. Especially his brothers.

And from the stories you heard, you weren't a fan of them either.

Aegon was a drunk and a pervert (not Daeron's exact words, but your conclusion) and Aemond was cold and distant, emotionally unavailable probably.

Helaena was fine, she even visited a couple of times. Daeron rarely came home and his mother was very worried. She made him promise that he'd come once the school year was over.

You really had no other friends. You were glad you met him, but other people tend to be loud and too much work. You hated that.

Alicent picked you up from the airport, visibly on edge, because she wasn't very present during Daeron's childhood, but he never mentioned it. Not once. He was asking about his siblings and their pets and Alicent's new potential boyfriends. He was really nice and you loved him because of that. You tried to join their conversation, but failed so you kept quiet until you came home.

Once you got into the house Helaena was the one who greeted you, with a smile and a spider crawling up her arm.

"Oh my god! Wait, you have—" I tried to brush the little creature off, but she just laughed.

"That's my new pet. Wanna hold him?"

"Uh... Yeah, sure." She was kind and you really liked Helaena, you'd also like to get to know her better.

"Stop bothering her, sister. She just got here." It was an unfamiliar male voice and he was walking down the stairs.

Unkept shoulder length hair, dirty mouth and half closed eyes? Yes, that was Aegon.

"Why? So that you could bother her? Leave us alone."

You recognized him from Daeron's stories and he wasn't exaggerating, everything was on point. You could practically feel, not the mockery, but the perverse part of him coming to the surface.

"Hi. Aegon, right?"

His smile was twisted. "And for how long will this pretty thing be staying with us, Daeron?" He was walking over to the kitchen and your friend frowned at his brother.

"Aegon, don't."

"What?" He laughed, "It was merely a question."

Later that day, Daeron showed you your room, it was a guest room, larger than the apartment you shared with Daeron. His family was pretty wealthy.

If you'd only looked at Aegon, you could never tell.

While you were unpacking, you sensed someone's presence behind you, but before you could turn around, he was already sitting on your bed, looking like a very happy puppy. Who might do things to you if you let him.

"May I help you?"

"Yes, at least I think so. If you cooperate."

"Have you been drinking?"

"No," he giggled, he actually giggled.

"Would you please get out?"

Aegon got up and instead of leaving the room, he closed the door. You two were alone in your temporary bedroom.

"Aegon. Please get out, I don't want anything to do with you." But that was a lie. A big, fat, lie.

You wanted him to ruin you to your core, until there is nothing left for him to take. You never even had your first kiss.

It was the attention. Nobody gave you this much attention in your life, at least not in that way.

"Liar, liar, pants on fire..."

"You are so drunk. Isn't it almost dinner time? Are you going out?"

"No. Just came here...For you."

He stepped closer towards you and the back of your knees hit the bed. If he decides to come any closer, you'll have to crawl over your bed which you don't plan on doing.

Aegon could practically smell the innocence on you. It made him go mad. It made him go into his room and drink the whole bottle of wine in a heartbeat, only to be brought into your room, while you were bending over that bed, unpacking.

Daeron warned him, but he didn't give a shit. He's going to have you, one way or another.

Now you were all flushed, waiting for his next move and he didn't plan on wasting any more moments.

His hands were in your hair and in a second he was pulling you in and kissing you, devouring you and Aegon tried to slip his tongue inside your mouth, but you were still too stubborn.

You pulled away, pressing a hand over your mouth, like you've done something sinful. He loved the taste of you, and he wanted more of it.

"You..." You couldn't even look at him. How he wanted to spread you on that very bed until you can't walk.

He was ready to continue, but there was a knock on the door. Daeron.

"Dinner is ready. Mother already called, but I wasn't sure if you heard..."

"Coming!" You managed to get out, but your voice was shaky. Your face was burning.

During the dinner everyone ate silently, and at some point you could feel Aegon's knee brush against yours while he watched you from across the table. You tried to remain calm but your face grew hotter every second. You crossed your legs and he didn't fail to miss it.

His drunken eyes wandered over you, especially your cleavage in a shirt that was a bit more revealing. You forgot about it, but then cursed yourself for wearing it in such a moment.

It was thankfully over soon and you got to shower, finally! You were just finishing washing your hair when you heard the door open.

Aegon couldn't see anything, but you were paralyzed.

He took off his shirt and you had to admit, you wanted to be able to see somehow. You had no idea what his deal was, but it made your knees tremble.

"Aegon, what is it?"

"Nothing." You could see the outline of his body, he was completely naked now and he was walking towards you.

"Stop. I'm getting out. Give me a towel."

To your surprise, he obeyed and tossed you a large towel to wrap around your body. When you slid the door open his naked body flashed you, but you prepared mentally, so you didn't react, and certainly did not look anywhere besides his face and the smug expression he was giving you.

Despite your best efforts, you saw black ink of his tattoos and that was the last straw, you bolted from the bathroom.

It wasn't until you were in your room that you remembered you left your clean clothes there.

You cursed yourself, but took a spare shirt you had and used it as a pajama.

You peeked from your room to see if the bathroom was empty, and when you saw the light was out, you ran to get your things, but what took you by surprise is that the clothes were still there, all except for your underwear. Which was at the top of the pile.

Maybe you left them in your room, you didn't know, but you were too tired to care, anyway, so you got under the covers and took some time to read your book. You were so close to drifting away, but a strange noise awoke you. Like someone was in pain. It was the room beside yours.

No, not in pain, you realized, embarrassed. It was male moaning and occasional whimpering. And it was Aegon.

Was it possible that you got the room that was so close to his? You knew that he was doing that on purpose, touching himself, just to make you even more flustered.

You had trouble sleeping that night, refusing to acknowledge the pain and wetness between your legs. You woke up around four in the morning and decided to drink some cold water and try to calm down. Your heart was hammering against your chest, remembering the sounds of pleasure Aegon was making.

You opened your door, but before you could go down the stairs, you felt someone's hand on your mouth, pulling you backwards, until you were in another room. You didn't even get to panic properly. But of course, when you turned, it was Aegon who was smiling at you. It was almost dark in his room.

"What the fuck?" You whispered.

He didn't answer, but he did pull you towards him and start kissing you, no, swallowing your face would be more appropriate. It caught you off guard, but you weren't mad. You wanted him to take control, you were desperate for it.

"Ever been fucked?" He mumbled in between kissing.

"N...No," you breathed out, every part of your rationality leaving, there was just him, only him. He grinned and seemed quite satisfied with your answer. He wanted to be the one who is going to destroy you.

Just in your shirt, it was easy for him to start touching you immediately, not having to remove any clothing. You gasped at the feeling of his fingertips.

You ended up on his bed, not being able to see clearly, dizzy from the sight of him.

His fingers pulled your underwear to the side and slowly touched your clit, using your wetness to prepare you for him after slipping one finger inside of you.

"We are just getting started. Relax," he whispered the last word in your ear as his finger slid in and out. Aegon kissed your neck and collarbones, just to soothe you before slipping in another finger. He did his best to stretch your walls before entering you.

"Aegon," you covered your mouth with your hand, remembering where you were and who might hear you.

He looked at you like you were a piece of meat he was ready to butcher.

Telling you nothing more, you suddenly felt him rubbing himself against your folds. Teasing you at your entrance, making you squirm beneath him.

"I was going to wait. I really was." He grunted, but continued, "I couldn't do it, it was a perfect opportunity and this is how you're going to spend every night in this house."

Your hips moved, needing him to touch you, bury himself deep inside you. And that's precisely what he did.

He went slow. Just the tip, and then he went deeper and deeper, the pain growing, but it was quickly switched with pleasure.

He slammed his dick inside you, making you cry out in pain, not yet accustomed to him. "You're going to ride me so well, I know it." Aegon's fingers dig deep into your hips.

He even forgot to take off your panties, it was stretched to the side while he kept going in and out, without mercy.

You dragged your nails against his bare back, leaving red marks behind. You realized he probably slept just in his underwear.

He pulled himself out of you, making you gasp at the sudden emptiness.

"Shh, it's okay, come here," he gestured towards himself. Aegon was now laying down and you supposed you knew what he wanted. You were scared.

"But I've never— I don't know how—"

"Nonsense." He guided your hips towards his cock and pulled you down on him, again, very slowly and then started moving you in the rhythm that was good enough for both of you.

You continued as he showed you, his hands were on your ass, squeezing until it hurt.

You felt him deep, throwing your head back, but keeping your mouth shut.

Aegon grunted, but then a moan escaped his mouth, "Do it faster." And you tried to listen to him, you gave him your best and he seemed satisfied enough.

When you reached your peak, you stopped moving completely, letting yourself squeeze him, your thighs trembling. Aegon held your hips in place and then pulled out, but continued to rub himself on your still sensitive clit.

Your moans were what set him off and he came all over his and your stomach, gasping for air once you both fell on the bed beside each other.

"I am going to teach you so many things."

You just hoped nobody finds out. And when you turned your head you saw your missing underwear, sitting on top of Aegon's nightstand still wet.

[phefics]

𝐢 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝

𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: george o'malley x reader 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you're george's best friend. after a night of drinking, you two hook-up, then try to pretend it never happened. prompted by @grimeslovebot!! 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬: fem!reader, surgery intern!reader, george isn't married/a cheater, drunk sex, unprotected sex, sort of angsty/cliffhanger ending, pt 2 coming soon 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: ~1.7k

It had been a hard, long week at Seattle Grace Hospital. You had spent most of it in the clinic, which wasn’t very exciting, but it had put you on Bailey’s good side, which was always a good thing.

George, on the other hand, had been given a chance to scrub in on an incredible surgery and the patient, unfortunately, hadn’t made it. It had upset him, losing someone so young, and he had been sulking around the halls the past few days.

“Why don’t we do something fun tonight?” you suggested, sensing that his mood wasn’t going to get better without a gentle nudge. Like all the other surgery interns, the job often took a toll on him, and only another intern was capable of understanding their pain.

“Like what?” he asked, not looking up from the chart he was reading.

“I don’t know…Go to the bar with the other interns?“ you suggested.

George looked up at you with a fond look on his face. “You mean, like we do all the time?”

“I’m just brainstorming!” you defended, but you couldn’t help smiling.

You and George had immediately gotten along at the beginning of your internship, and had been inseparable friends ever since. All it took was a certain expression on his face, or a specific tone of voice for you to know exactly what he was thinking. You were smiling, because you knew that fond look on his face meant, ‘I know you’re trying to cheer me up, and going to a bar with Karev is not the right approach.’

So, you tried again. “Or we could go back to the house, watch a movie, have some drinks and snacks? I think Meredith is on call tonight, anyway, so the house will be quieter than usual.”

He notated something on the chart, giving you a nod. “Sure, that sounds nice. Uh, I have to go run some labs, but I’ll see you at lunch?”

“See you!”

It was a few hours later when George put his tray down next to yours on the cafeteria table, flopping down into his seat with a sigh.

“Drinks tonight is just what I need,” he said.

You gave him a sympathetic smile, patting his arm. “I’ll stop by the liquor store after my shift.”

“You’re the best,” George said, and his tone was so sincere, combined with that fond look in his big, brown eyes, it made your face flush.

The moment was ruined when Meredith came to the table, practically slamming her food down as she began to rant about her drama with McDreamy, and you were grateful for the distraction.

George was your best friend. Surely you weren’t interested in him…like that. George O’Malley, who was shy and awkward, who was into all his nerdy shit, who made you laugh more than anyone else, who knew you better than anyone…

Well, shit. That wasn’t a great revelation to have in the middle of your work day. You were falling for your best friend.

Meredith’s voice faded to the background as you processed it. Relationships within the hospital always seemed to get messy. You were co-workers, roommates, friends. If it went wrong, it would ruin so much. But if it went well...God, if it went well, it would be so perfect.

"Earth to Y/N?" George said, his fingers waving in front of your face.

You startled from your thoughts. "What?"

"Your pager is going off. Didn't you hear it?"

"Shit," you muttered, grabbing for your pager as you rose to your feet, already preparing to sprint.

"See you later!" George called after you as you ran from the cafeteria.

Later that evening, you changed out of your scrubs in the locker room before heading out of the hospital, stopping at the liquor store and picking up a few bottles of assorted drinks, making sure to grab George's favorite, as well as stopping at a gas station for snacks.

By the time you made it back to the house, your arms full of bags, George was there to help you bring the bags inside.

You picked a film while George mixed some drinks, curling up beside each other on the couch.

"Cheers to surviving another week," he said.

You smiled and clinked your glass with his.

The film you chose was supposed to be sci-fi, but there was an unnecessary romance plot thrown in, and the drunker you got, the more frustrated you became.

"If the world was fucking ending, I would be less concerned with getting laid," you quipped, rolling your eyes at the television.

George was also pretty tipsy by that point, and he laughed. "I think it's sweet. I mean, he's clearly been in love with her for a while. If you thought you weren't going to live much longer, wouldn't you want to seize the opportunity?"

You hummed, considering it. “But what if the world doesn’t end? And now you’ve just made things awkward.”

“Or you’ve made things better,” George said. He had a giddy smile on his face, like he was genuinely daydreaming about the concept.

“You thinking about someone specific?” you teased, nudging him in the ribs playfully.

“Shut up,” he replied, his cheeks flushed, not just due to the alcohol.

You broke into a grin, his lie obvious. "Oh, you are! Tell me, tell me," you chanted, words slurred slightly as you nudged him repeatedly, even sneaking your hands out to tickle his side.

He yelped, batting uselessly at your hands. "No! There's nothing to tell!" he insisted, but his giggling didn't make the words sound very convincing.

Somehow, you ended up halfway in his lap, still poking and prodding at him and demanding to know his little secret, too tipsy to care about the close proximity, or about the fact that his answer might not be who you wanted it to be.

Thankfully, his answer was just what you wanted, and it didn't even come verbally. In a last ditch effort to get you to stop assailing him, George had grabbed your face and pulled you in for a clumsy kiss.

The movie wasn't even half-finished, but it was totally forgotten as you and George got to your feet, stumbling through the house and towards his bedroom, each moment where your lips weren't pressed together spent giggling.

There were no words necessary, your mouths too occupied with kissing to bother. George had already grown hard in his pajama pants, the imprint of his well-sized cock clearly visible through the plaid fabric.

You laid down on his bed, fingers fumbling to remove your top, and George pulled his own shirt over his head with a big of a struggle, the heat of the moment combined with the liquor making every movement desperate and uncoordinated.

It wasn't long until you both completely naked, tangled in his bed sheets. He held your face with so much care, thumb stroking your jaw as he kissed you.

"Youhave no idea how long I've wanted this," he breathed, lining his cock up with your entrance. "Since the ice breaker before our internship, I swear..."

"Me too," you replied. "Didn't even realize how bad I needed you, but it's always been there."

You two both moaned as he entered you, your fingernails digging into his back. It felt so good, the stretch of his cock filling you. It was a blessing that no one else was home to hear the way the bed creaked, the way you gasped and how he groaned.

As he fucked you, George used his thumb to rub circles on your clit, bringing you close to orgasm as he approached his own.

"Fuck," you breathed. "I'm gonna—"

"Me too," he said.

It didn't long for you to both be finished, laying spent on his flannel bedsheets. From the alcohol and the rush of adrenaline, you both fell asleep like that, naked and cuddled together.

***

When you awoke the next morning, you immediately felt the headache before your eyes had even opened. Weren't you too old, too mature to be getting hungover like this? And you were on-call today, which was just the cherry on top.

Or, so you thought. The real cherry on top was when you opened your eyes and say none other than your best friend, George O'Malley, laying next to you.

Fuck, you thought. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

You jumped out of the bed, and your head pounded in protest. You ignored it, too occupied with the fact that you were naked, your clothes strewn about George's bedroom floor. You gathered them up hastily and snuck out of his room, dashing into your own.

You took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down. Maybe George wouldn't remember! Maybe you could just move on, pretending that it had never happened.

It was wishful thinking, though. Once you had showered, gotten ready for work, and eaten some semblance of breakfast, George emerged from his bedroom, still shirtless, and nearly bumped right into you in the hallway.

"Morning," he said, sounding exhausted. "What the hell did we drink last night?"

"Don't remember," you replied. "I gotta go. See you later!"

You weren't being very subtle. Izzie, Meredith, and Cristina kept questioning why you were acting jumpy, flustered, and hungover.

"Did you go on a date?" Izzie asked.

Meredith chimed in. "Was it someone here?"

"Oh, don't tell me you're screwing an attending, too," Cristina said.

"I just didn't get much sleep," you replied.

Thankfully, your pager beeped and gave you an excuse to leave. You went to the room you were summoned to, expecting to find a patient in need or an attending who wanted you to scrub in.

Instead, you found an empty room with none other than George O'Malley standing in it.

"Hey," he said.

"Hi," you replied, fighting the urge to run right back out of the room.

"So, when I was getting dressed this morning, I noticed the, um...Well, the scratches on my back. I just want to make sure...It was you, right? Like, I didn't do something totally stupid?"

"It was me," you said. "And who says it wasn't stupid? We...We're friends, George, we shouldn't...I mean, I don't want to lose that."

George's face fell slightly, and you focused your gaze on the floor to ignore it.

"Of course," he replied. "Yeah, no, you're right. We were drunk, anyway. It didn't...It didn't have to mean anything."

"Cool. Well, uh...I'll see you later."

You rushed out of the room, refusing to look back at him.

(there will be a part two, don't worry!!)

[discordantwritings]

Guiding Star (Jinbe x Reader)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, gn afab! reader, monsterfucking, Jinbe has two dicks, oral sex (m receiving), double penetration, belly bulge, Jinbe talks you through it

WC: 4.6k

Summary: You have a big, giant, fat crush on your newest crew mate, Jinbe. You don’t hold out any hope that he likes you back but you’ve been convinced you should at least give it a shot. Who knows? Maybe he does like you back.

Notes: if jinbe is OOC I’m sorry but I watched every clip and video I could get my hands on. I just had to write some monsterfucking ok? Ok.

It’s embarrassing how much you’ve been staring at the newest crew member. But how could you not?

Jinbe, former warlord and knight of the sea was now the helmsman for the Thousand Sunny and you found him occupying your thoughts quite frequently. At first you were intimidated by him- incredibly tall stature and his battle prowess left nothing to the imagination of what he could do to anyone who got in his way. But as you saw him around the ship and his interactions with your fellow straw hats you saw a different side of him.

He was kind, he was polite, and the way his laugh boomed through the decks always made you smile. It was like he’d been a crew member for years now, fitting right into everyone’s routine effortlessly. You hadn’t talked to him one on one a lot but every time you did it was a wonderful conversation. If he let you you could probably sit and listen to his stories for hours on end.

And there was… well…

He was hot.

Sure, maybe he wasn’t everyone’s taste but you honestly couldn’t wrap your head around why more people weren’t swooning over him. He was at least three feet taller than you and almost entirely muscle. Not that he looked it but when he easily hefted barrels over his shoulder like it was nothing you could only imagine what it would be like to be picked up and maneuvered around so easily. And when he lets his kimono fall past his shoulders and simply knot around his waist letting his broad shoulders and wide chest out-

God.

You were spending too much time around Sanji.

You honestly don’t mean to be a pervert. You spend a lot of time kicking yourself internally for how far your brain has traveled into the gutter. Most days you try not to spend too much time around the fishman, worrying that he will catch you staring or pick up on your feelings. That would just ruin everything- you might like him but chances are he wouldn’t return the emotions.

“You’re thinking about him again.” Robin’s voice startles you out of your thoughts and you whip around to see her standing there, arms crossed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You try to play it off, but Robin is clearly not having it.

“You have that love struck yet sad look on your face.” Robin states as she sits down next to you. “You’re thinking about a certain helmsman.”

You sigh. Robin had picked up on your crush probably before you did. It was nice to have someone to confide in but it was still embarrassing. “Maybe I am…”

“How many times do I have to tell you to just go talk to him?”

“See it sounds easy when you say it like that but you know it’s more complicated.” You sink back into the bench, arms folded.

“And avoiding a fellow crew member and constantly moping around isn’t making things complicated?” You cringe because of course she is right.

“But…” You lean onto Robin’s shoulder. “What if he doesn’t like me. I mean- it’s more likely that he doesn’t like me than he does really considering…” The whole human and fishman thing.

“You don’t know that. And even if he turns you down he’s a kind and understanding individual. He would never hold it against you.”

“You’re so smart…” You mumble into her shoulder.

“Yes, yes.” Robin pats your head. “Now what do you think about talking to him tonight.”

You shoot upright. “Tonight? That’s so soon I don’t-“

“He’s going to be up late redirecting our course so you can approach him when no one else is around. And it’ll be on deck so you can run away if anything happens.”

You think it over. Of course that seems like a good plan. But could you actually go through with it?

“Fine.” You relent, sagging back into the bench. “Tonight.”

“Good.” Robin claps her hands together. “This will be great. Trust me.”

And you do trust her. Enough to let the anxiety stir in your stomach for the rest of the day as you waited for the hours to pass by. Dinner was awkward for you, Robin shooting you looks as you tried not to make eye contact with anyone, afraid people will see how nervous you were. But dinner was over fast enough and everyone slowly made their way to bed. All except you and Jinbe. Slowly making your way up to the helm under the light of the stars you saw him.

Seeing him at the wheel sent a wave of calm over you. He was always so capable and you know that your crew and the Thousand Sunny were safe in his capable hands. Jinbe must have sensed you hovering as he glances over your way. A large smile comes over his face when he realizes it’s you.

“You’re up late.” He comments, not fully turning away from his duty but keeping an eye on you.

“Oh, yeah, just…” You walk the final strides to be next to him- not close by any means but average conversation distance. Hopefully. “Wanted to talk.”

“Oh?” Jinbe drops one hand from the helm to face you properly. When his attention is on you you feel your heartbeat quicken and your nerves rise.

“I uh… I’m really not sure how to say this…” You can’t make eye contact with him, eyes glued to the planks of the deck.

“If I’ve done something to offend you-“ Jinbe sounds concerned and that sends a pant of guilt through you.

“No! Nothing like that actually-“ You take a deep breath. You just had to rip off the bandaid. “I like you. In a romantic capacity.”

You want to fling yourself off the deck and let the ocean take you for how awkward that just sounded. Still unable to look at him you’re left wondering what is going through his head as silence hangs in the air.

“Ah. I understand.” Finally comes Jinbe’s response. It’s just what you’re expecting, something small and polite that hints that you should drop it. Of course. At least it’s over now and you-

“I feel the same way.”

What?

Your eyes dart up from the deck to Jinbe’s face and you see him smiling wide, all teeth. You search for some hint of a joke or deception but can’t find it. He turns his attention back to the helm, turning it ever so slightly and leaving you to flounder.

“Oh. Okay then.” Was all you could think to say, standing there wondering what the hell just happened.

The sound of the water lapping against the boat was barley audible over your own heartbeat thrumming in your ears. Do you go now? Do you stand here? Are you supposed to be saying something?

“Do you want to see something?” Jinbe’s deep voice grabs you out of your thoughts to see him looking down at you. You nod, and he steps back from the helm and motions for you to take his place.

With slight hesitation you step behind the wheel. You feel him move behind you and you realize when you hear his voice next to your ear that he’s kneeled down.

“So if you look up here…” His hand travels past your shoulder, pointing. “Do you see that bright star?”

He’s so close you can feel the warmth of his breath on your neck and you have to purposefully slow your breathing. You follow his finger and look up into the night sky. It takes you a second to find it amongst the hundreds of brilliant lights but eventually you do- one shining just a bit brighter than the rest.

“I think I do.” You whisper, not trusting yourself to speak louder.

“That’s the star that navigators use to anchor everything. Nami and I split the job of directing the ship but she always gives me directions in relation to that star. Almost every single person on this world uses that star to guide them.”

You’ve heard mention of this star before, being on the sea for as long as you had, but the way he explains it to you and how he’s practically surrounding you while he does so is a whole new experience. “Wow.”

“It’s one of those things I remember when we all get so caught up in our differences. We all have more in common than we might think. We all have the same stars.” His hand falls and it skims your side as it does so and you shiver.

“That’s beautiful.” You say, still staring up at the stars.

“Not quite as beautiful as you.” His voice had dropped an octave and the way it reverberated through your chest made your breath hitch.

“You can’t just say things like that.” You know your face is completely flushed from his words and how damn close he was to you.

“Why not? I thought you liked me.” His tone was teasing and you huffed.

“Yes- but- this is all so embarrassing.” You bury your hands in your face, mortified about how poorly you were handling everything.

You felt large hands gently turn you around and you wanted to retract further out of sheer embarrassment. Even though you have your eyes screwed shut under your hands you still feel his gaze on you.

“You’re going to have to look at me at some point.” You can hear the humor in his voice and you suck in a breath and drop your hands.

He’s on one knee in front of you but his face is still a bit higher than yours. It’s closer than it’s ever been before and you find yourself scanning his face and taking in every detail. The way his fangs shine in the moonlight, his smooth blue skin, and the deep scar across his right eye. You can even see a faint blush creep over his cheeks, a deep purple against light blue.

“If I didn’t know any better I would think you’d never seen a fishman before.” He says, taking you out of your trance.

“I just- you’re so handsome.” You admit, finally able to lock eyes with him.

“It’s not often people say that to me.” It’s his turn to break away from your gaze.

“I don’t understand that at all. But maybe I am glad no one snatched you up before I could.” You feel emboldened by seeing his reaction to your compliment.

“Just maybe?” Jinbe’s eyes find yours again as his hand finds your shoulder. You lean into the touch as his thumb rubs small circles into your skin.

“I’m really glad no one snatched you up before I could. And also that you like me as well.”

“You really thought I wouldn’t?” His motions don’t cease and you feel your nerves leaving you.

“I really did. I mean I was terrified you would think I was some pervert or something.” You admit.

“Pervert? Why?” He sounds genuinely confused.

“Well- I mean-“ You shift on your feet slightly. “I might have been staring at you. A lot.”

“Hm? Really now?” A finger comes up to your face and brushes across your cheek. “And while you were staring… what would you think about.”

His words make your stomach twist in anticipation and your breath quickens as you debate what to say. You could play it off, say something that would leave him thinking you were more put together than you were but with the way he’s looking at you…

“A lot of things. Mostly about how big and strong you are. How it would feel to touch you- be touched by you.” Once you started speaking the words just tumbled out. You searched Jinbe’s face for a reaction and are relieved to see him break into a huge smile.

“This might be too forward of me- and tell me if it is- but I could touch you. If you’d like.” He was so polite and so kind.

You lean into his hand, still on your face. “I would really love that.”

“Perfect!” His voice followed by a booming laugh makes you giggle. He stands up and you remember just how tall he is, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “Hold on.”

You’re confused for a second before Jinbe easily scoops you up and throws you over his shoulder. You let out a small yelp that devolves into more giggles as you’re carried off. Even though you’re facing backwards you can tell where he’s going pretty fast- taking the ladder up to the crow’s nest. Typically unoccupied at this time of night it’s the one place on the ship you two could get some privacy.

He slides you off his shoulder gently and you have to take a second to reorient yourself. While you balance, Jinbe sits down on one of the benches and waits patiently for you. Once you collect yourself you take the few steps over to Jinbe, slotting yourself between his wide legs so you can get as close to him as possible. You pause, face hovering only inches from his as your eyes scan his face.

“You sure?” He asks softly, a finger moving a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Yes.”

He looks at you for a moment more before finally moving in to kiss you.

It was unlike any other kiss you’d had before. His lips were surprisingly soft and smooth as they pressed against yours gently. He moved slowly and he was able to keep his tusks from scraping you. You felt their presence though, cool and hard on the sides of your mouth. The kiss was was everything you thought it would be and more.

You found yourself leaning into him, supporting yourself on his shoulders as large hands came to gently hold you at your sides. His hands encompass your waist and heat pools in your stomach at that fact.

You loose track of time kissing him as your hands and his explore each others bodies. His skin is smooth and cool under your touch, different but not unwelcome. Rough fingertips find your skin just under your shirt, raising it up a few inches just so he can feel you. The two of your drift like this for what feels like hours until the heat under your skin builds up and you need more.

“Jinbe-“ You whine as you break away from the kiss.

“Hm? What do you need?” He asks, his thumb rubbing circles into your hip.

“Can I-“ You fight through the embarrassment and sink down to your knees in front of him. Your hands smooth over his thighs as you look up at him. His eyes are wide in surprise and lust and you see his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

“You don’t have to. It’s…” He trails off but your hands are at the knot in his kimono, slowly untying.

“I want to. Please?” You bat your eyes and he’s gone. He nods and you finish your work on the knot and gently part the fabric.

Of course you had thought about what he would look like. Rumors about what fishmen genitalia looked like always hung around but you never met anyone with first hand experience, no one you would trust to actually have a real story. You had ideas, hopes maybe, but what was sitting in front of you was beyond what you imagined.

Mostly because there was two of them.

Two smooth members were erect and flush against Jinbe’s stomach. Starting off thinner and tapering to impossibly thick at the base they look like they could have been one larger cock before being split down the middle. Just one of them was far larger than anything you’ve ever seen and both of them together? Well you know there’s no possible way all of him will fit inside you. But that doesn’t mean you don’t want whatever your body could possibly take.

“Like I said- you don’t have to-“ Jinbe’s slightly nervous voice sounds above you and you realize you’ve probably been staring for a while.

“No!” You answer, embarrassingly eager. “This is-“

You can’t find the proper words so you decide to show him.

Taking the right one into your hand you press a kiss to the very base, enjoying the way he shuddered under your touch. You continued upward, pressing sloppy kisses and leaving his cock slick with your saliva. After thorough attention you repeated your actions on the other. You watch as Jinbe’s hands fist in the fabric pool around his thighs, relishing in the small grunts and groans you are able to get out of him.

Satisfied with your preparation you bring both your hands around both his members, pushing them together as you slowly pump down and then back up. You hold your hands there and take both tips into your mouth. Above you Jinbe hisses and you feel one of his hands shoot up to the back of your head. He just holds it there, fingers weaving into your hair but you know he’s holding himself back.

Your tongue swirls around the tips as you take more into your mouth. You don’t get far but that doesn’t seem to matter to Jinbe as you feel his fingers grip your hair tighter as you work. Pulling off you stop holding the two together and instead gently maneuver them apart, running your tongue down through the gap as your hands gently worked up and down.

“Fuck-“ You don’t think you’d ever heard Jinbe swear before but the husk in his voice sends a fresh wave of heat to your core. “You feel so good.”

His encouragement is all you need. You take just one of his cocks in your mouth this time and you’re able to take him farther down. Flattening out your tongue and relaxing your throat you’re able to take almost half of him down your throat. His hand grips your hair tighter but doesn’t hold you down and the slightly pain of having your hair pulled keeps you grounded. You keep him there as long as you can until you have to pull yourself off, saliva running down your chin as you pant for air. As you catch your breath Jinbe’s hand smooths over your hair and you hear Jinbe whispering soft praises to you. Finally ready, you take a deep breath and repeat your motions to the other cock as you slowly pump the one covered in your saliva. When you go to switch back the hand at your head stops you, gently directing your gaze up.

“Get back up here.” The soft but firm command has you standing up immediately and he pulls you into a kiss.

There’s more heat in it this time as his hands move from your waist, over your ass, and to your thighs. With little effort he lifts you up and onto his lap, never breaking the kiss. You feel his hands come up and around to the waistband of your pants and you get the message. Reaching down you quickly unbutton and shove them down along with your underwear, maneuvering yourself so you can get them off and fling them to the side somewhere. You hover over his lap and with your knees on his thighs you remain face to face with him.

One of Jinbe’s hands stays at your waist, holding you in place while the other finally dips down between the two of you to where you need him most. Cool calloused fingers find your folds and he hums appreciatively.

“Soaking wet just from pleasuring me?” He smiles and you bury your face into his shoulder, embarrassed.

You feel his fingers part your folds and you feel the press of one large finger at your entrance. It has no trouble sliding in with how soaked you are. You moan into his shoulder and your arms come up to latch around his thick neck. The finger gently pushes in and out of you, the slick sounds filling the space.

“I have to ask.” His voice reverberates in your chest. “Do you want me inside you?”

“Please Jinbe.” You’re surprised at how needy you sound, practically whining.

“Then I’ll need to work you open.” Even just that promise has your breaths coming heavier.

A second finger finds its way to your entrance, gently sliding in next to the first. You already feel full and wonder what exactly you’ve gotten yourself into. But when he slowly scissors his fingers open you forget everything.

“Jinbe-“ Your fingernails can’t dig into his thick skin but that doesn’t stop you from trying.

“I know, I know.” He presses a kiss to your cheek. “You’re taking my fingers so well.”

You moan at his words as he continues to slowly work you open. It’s not too much longer before you feel a third finger threatening to join the other two.

“You can take it, just relax.” You do your best, taking deep breaths as a third thick finger enters you, making you feel impossibly full. His words, the slow but calculated actions, the feeling of fullness, it’s all too much.

“Jinbe- I’m- fuck-“ You stutter out unable to fully form a sentence.

“It’s ok, just let go. It’s alright just relax.” The hand on your hip runs gently over your side and you fall apart.

“That’s it. So good for me.” Jinbe whispers into your ear, his fingers still slowly working in and out of you through your orgasm. You press kisses to his shoulder as he keeps moving inside you, continuing to stretch you out.

“I need-“ You’re cut off by your own moan as Jinbe’s fingers hit that spot deep inside you.

“Tell me what you need love.”

You groan in frustration and pleasure. “You- I need you inside me please.”

“Anything you want.” His fingers pull out of you and you whine at the loss.

You look down between your bodies and see him take both of his dicks into his hand, using your slick to coat them. Mesmerized and a bit intimidated you stare down as both tips get aligned with your entrance.

“You don’t have to do this, it’s ok if we stop here.” His thoughtful words make you look into his eyes and you shake your head.

“No, I want this, as much as I can take.” You press a kiss to his mouth that he eagerly takes.

You have to pull away from his mouth as he enters you, one hand guiding himself and the other hand on your hip slowly pushing you down. Your mouth hangs open as you feel him enter you, stretching you out already. Focusing on your breathing you rest your forehead on Jinbe’s shoulder as you slowly sink further down.

“That’s it just breathe. You’re taking me so well.” You can hear a strain in his voice signaling that this is effecting him just as much as it is you.

“You’re- fuck-“ You swear loudly as you feel him gently touch your cervix. “That’s-“

“I feel it, it’s alright, I’ve got you.” Jinbe holds you up with one hand, allowing you to take the strain off your legs. You know you aren’t taking all of him in you, still a few inches away from his base.

The stretch feels impossible- like you’re about to split down the middle. You would be lying if you said it didn’t hurt, but you breathed through that pain and with soothing words from Jinbe in your ear you slowly begin to relax. Face still buried in Jinbe’s shoulder, you feel the hand not holding you come around to your front and a calloused finger presses against your clit. You try to say something, but you can’t form words, only moans and whines into the smooth skin of his shoulder.

“It’s okay love just let go.” He rubs slow circles into your clit.

“I don’t-“ You whine, embarrassed how fast you are already at your edge again.

“I want you to let go. Come apart on me. Just for me.” His words are like honey and you can’t help but grind on his finger pushing yourself over the edge.

“That’s it that’s-“ Jinbe groans as he feels your walls flutter around him. “You feel so good around me- so good.”

You push yourself up a bit so you can look at Jinbe. His face is just as flushed as yours, stormy eyes dilated with lust. “‘m ready.”

Jinbe nods and slowly lifts you up and you feel every inch dragging out of you before he lowers you back down. You watch Jinbe’s jaw go slack and you feel a a tinge of pride knowing he’s just as effected as you are. Watching his face you see his gaze go down between the two of you. The hand not moving you skates up over your stomach and you look down.

Underneath Jinbe’s palm you see your stomach bulge out with every thrust. His palm presses down against the bulge and it’s a sensation you’ve never felt before and both you and Jinbe moan loud.

“See me filling you up? You’re taking me so well watch-“ His voice is breathier and faster and you know he is getting closer to falling apart.

You’re mesmerized, watching him go in and out of you, seeing and feeling the stretch. You don’t know how your body will ever be the same after this, how anyone else could ever compare when you’ve been pushed to impossible limits by Jinbe.

“You like that don’t you?” Jinbe says, feeling the way your walls flutter as you watch him. “Are you close? I’m almost there-“

“Yes- shit I’m close-“ You tangle your hands in Jinbe’s hair, gripping right to ground yourself.

“You feel so good falling apart around me- need to feel that again- can you do that? Just for me love?” He moves you faster up and down as he pleads with you and for the third time tonight you cum.

Almost completely out of your body you still feel Jinbe moving in and out of you, still chasing his end. His careful movements stutter and you know he’s almost there.

“Jinbe- I want you to finish inside me- please-“ You whine, overstimulated but still needy.

That seems to be all he needed and you feel him thrust up into you one last time before releasing inside you. You feel him filling you up an impossible amount, his cum already spilling out of you and dripping down below.

He gently pulls you off of him and holds you close, a hand smoothing your hair as he whispers praises to you as you regain your senses. It’s not long before he’s standing up with you still in his arms and before you know it you’re in the showers and Jinbe is carefully washing you off in the warm water.

By the time you’re cleaned up you feel alright to stand, wrapping yourself in a bathrobe as you cling to Jinbe’s side. You know he has to go back to his watch but you don’t want to leave him and he senses that.

“You can stay with me, if you’d like.” He offers as the two of you walk out of the showers. You nod and he immediately picks you up again, carrying you back to the helm.

He sits on the bench of the deck, leaning back as you curl up and get comfortable in his arms. Under the stars and in the arms of your new lover you fall asleep, excited for what your new relationship will hold.

[13uswntimagines]

13 Eras of Us (Taylor Swift x Morgan!R): Era 1 - We Were Both Young When I First Saw You

Request: Taylor Swift x Alex morgan's little sister. They start off as friends and realize that there may be something more.

Chapter synopsis: 1 of 13: The era where everything begins. R and Taylor meet, and become friends. Composed of little moments between them, r and the Team and R and her sister.

Notes: Hey dudes, i'm really really stoked about this series, and i really hope you enjoy it. Let me know what you think.

July, 2015

We were both young when I first saw you

You sighed, gripping the rubber handles of your crutches, leaning more heavily onto the foam padding under your arms despite the ache it caused from the constant chafing. It was an annoying consequence of your injury. 

A secondary effect that the trainers hadn’t told you about when they convinced you that an Achilles tear wasn’t something you could walk off. When they swore up and down that the two other liniments in your ankle were holding on by threads and absolutely could not hold your weight for another 5 weeks. 

You still hadn’t gotten used to them, not that you really had the chance. 

They were a fairly new addition to your wardrobe, made necessary by one bad tackle only 20 minutes into your first game in Canada, effectively ruining your World Cup run (something you were still bummed about despite your team actually winning the World Cup- not that you would call yourself a World Cup Winner). 

You let out another breath, unable to stop the smile on your face as the lights shifted to highlight the woman on stage. 

She was absolutely mesmerizing in her shimmery silver dress, and it was nice to get to watch without the team lingering behind you. It was the only good thing about being injured. 

You didn’t have to go on the stage with them. 

Alas, you were lucky you got to come to the 1989 tour with the team at all. Taylor Swift had only invited the 2015 World Cup winners. 

It was one of the few benefits of being The Alex Morgan’s little sister you supposed. She sent a text and then you had been invited too. 

It strangely made you feel like a 10-year-old chasing after her and her new college friends, going to places where you just didn’t belong. But then again, you felt that way any time you spent more than an hour with your older sister since she left your sobbing form in the driveway as she headed off to Berkley. 

Things hadn’t been the same between you since, and all of her efforts just felt like a weird form of a twisted apology, even now. 

It was like you were her charity case or something, and that didn’t sit right with you. 

Still, you were grateful she had pulled the strings to get you backstage to one of your favorite singer’s shows. God knew you wouldn’t have survived well in the crowd, especially not now that you could barely stand on your own. 

“Pretty spectacular isn’t it?” 

You flinched at the voice, jerking away from the woman standing close enough to your left side to also be able to see the stage, but not too close. Just like she had been all night. 

She reached out a steadying hand as the crutches wobbled dangerously underneath you, an easy smile never leaving her features. 

You swallowed hard, trying to form words to say anything to Taylor’s mom. 

You weren’t big into fandom or social media, but you still knew who she was, and it felt weird meeting her (definitely not because you had a massive crush on her daughter- or the character her daughter pretended to be on stage). 

“She’s amazing,” You finally managed to force the words from your throat, turning back towards the flashing lights on stage and around the stadium.

Andrea hummed. “She is. You’re pretty amazing too,” 

She had heard about your… reputation but all she had seen from you tonight was a shy kid desperately searching for something. Exactly what that something was she couldn’t put her finger, but she suspected it had to do with the way you were watching your older sister interact all night. 

You shrugged, your shoulders collapsing in on you just a bit. “Right now I’m gimpy, and I couldn’t imagine having the control over an audience that she does,” 

Andrea made a low noise, thinking better than to argue with you. She didn’t know you well enough for a debate. 

She didn’t want to interrupt you any more than she had anyway. 

The way you were staring at the stage was a sight to behold, to say the least, your lip trapped between your teeth and your eyes filled with wonder. 

She had seen many fans in her days, but there was just something… different about how you watched the show. The tender adoration in your eyes was beautiful, and it made the mom in her wonder what the future would hold for you and her daughter. 

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as style came to an end and your sister disappeared below the stage. 

You smiled towards Andrea. “I better go before they think I tried to escape,”��

She raised an eyebrow at you. “Is that something you’ve done before?” 

You shrugged again, your grin turning impish.

 “I don’t kiss and tell,” You winked as you started to maneuver yourself back towards where you knew Alex would be coming out, and Andreas' laugh sounded from behind you. 

That had been the point after all hadn't it? 

Still, you were slightly relieved when your sister stepped through the curtain that separated the stage from the backstage area. 

While Andrea and the stage managers had been as welcoming as they could be, you still hadn’t felt like you belonged. You hadn’t been the one invited after all. It also helped that you would be getting out of the noise until Taylor got off stage and was ready for the mini meet and greet the team planned. 

“How did that crowd feel?” You asked as Alex approached you, and the crowd at the front of the stage cheered again, painting an interested smile across your features. 

It felt electric from the audience, so you could only imagine what it felt like being on stage, 

“Really good,” Alex smiled widely, wiggling the trophy in her arms just a bit. “Like World Cup good,” 

“It’s insane how she can control a room like that,”

Alex’s eyebrows furrowed. You felt her slow down beside you and her eyes searched your face. “Don’t even think about it,” 

“What?” You asked, your tongue poking out of your mouth as you focused on keeping up with the team. 

“I know you and I know that look,” She said seriously.  “She’s my age, and you’re not 18 for another 10 days,” 

You shrugged. “So?” 

You hadn’t been planning on hitting on America's top superstar, but you would never miss an opportunity to mess with your older sister. Plus, you didn’t see the harm in flirting. 

It was a fundamental part of your personality after all. 

“Y/n I’m serious,” 

Your lips pulled into a playful smirk, glancing up at her as she held the door to a small room for you. “And I’m committed to not being serious,” 

It was no secret that your… extracurricular activities had picked up since your injury, and you had done little to mask your enjoyment of the league's hookup culture since you joined in lew of going to college. 

What annoyed Alex more was that no one in North Carolina would step up and help her stop you. 

“Y/n,” Alex let out a suffering sigh, catching the crutch before you could hobble away. 

“Look, she’s out of my league, and it’s criminal to not tell a gorgeous woman how gorgeous she is,” 

“Kid’s got a point,” Kelley said, appearing at your other side and sending you a small wink. “Shooting my shot is how I landed you after all,”

“That’s true baby horse,” Cheney said, grabbing a coke off of the large catering table that dominated the room. “It’s also how Toby got Chris,” 

“How did we get roped into this?” Tobin groaned, her slightly red-rimmed eyes going wide, popping a grape in her mouth. 

Kelley snorted. “You got roped into this because you asked Chris out after you beat her in the college cup, while she was still on the field,” 

“You fucking proposed to Alex after your team beat her in a shootout,” Christen snickered, shaking her head. “You literally have no room to talk,” 

You chucked at Kelley’s blush, barely noticing the new body that had entered the room and was leaning up against the doorframe next to you. 

“Sounds like the field is a very active place for you guys,” The voice said, and you snapped your head to meet the most gorgeous blue eyes you had ever seen in your entire life. “Though your timing seems… questionable,” 

“Tay!” 

“That was an amazing show,”

“Dude, that crowd is nuts. It’s like they’re eating out of the palm of your hand,” 

Taylor smiled widely at the team, her eyes glimmering in the dressing room light. “Well thank you, it was an absolute pleasure to get to share the stage with you all tonight,” 

She pushed off of the wall, and your eyes followed her like she was a magnet. She looked so… graceful even in a pair of sweats.

“The pleasure was all ours,” Cheney grinned back at her. “it was a blast, thank you again for inviting us,”

“Anything to bring more visibility to what you guys do,” Taylor nodded, looking over the catering table and picking sparkling water from the selection. “It’s empowering to young girls everywhere,” 

You were drawn to her hands as they flexed around the bottle. To her lips as she timed her sips so she could continue her conversation with Cheney. She was so elegant. 

Even in your sexcapades, you had never been so… taken with someone. 

“This is my younger sister, Y/n,” You blinked away from Taylor and towards Alex, and back, feeling taken slightly off guard. You hadn’t realized you zoned out. 

The blonde singer nodded towards you, waving the bottle. “Hey. I’m Taylor,” 

“I’m Y/n,” Your lips quirked up, and you stuck your hand out for her to take, bringing it to your lips when she did. “And I’m your wildest dream,” 

“Very smooth,” Taylor chuckled, pulling her hand back, and you could have sworn she had a little bit of pink dusting her cheeks. 

“Smoother than a fresh jar of skippy,” You winked back, earning an ever louder giggle from the singer. 

The room erupted into laughter, and you sent a proud smirk toward your sister. 

She shook her head. “Don’t encourage her. She’s been practicing all week for this,” 

“Well I can’t practice soccer, so what did you expect?” You shrugged as much as you could over the crutches. “I need to use my talents for something,”

“I think it was amazing,” Taylor cut in, grinning. 

“See!” 

Alex rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. She had obviously been outvoted. It would be a fun story to tell your future significant other anyway. 

“It’s very nice to meet you Y/n,” Taylor said, sobering. “I was happy you could make it, even if you weren’t on the squad,” 

“It’s nice to meet you too,” You nodded, your dimples on full display. “Thanks for the invite,” 

“No way I would exclude one of my favorite players,” She hummed. “I was so sad when you got hurt,”

You felt heat in your cheeks, traveling up to your ears. Taylor knew who you were. She liked to watch you play. 

You swallowed hard. “I should be up and playing again within the next couple of months,”

Your PT promised you that as long as you followed the plan, you’d be back and playing by the end of the season. With the way Paul was pushing you, you knew you’d probably be back sooner. 

“Well, if you’re ever in New York let me know,” She said, pulling out her phone and opening the texting app before passing it to you. “I’d love to see a game,” 

You took the offered item, quickly typing in your number. “Yeah, I’m sure I can get you and the squad good seats,” 

She sent you one last smile before she turned back towards the team. “I’ve gotta go, but it was nice to see you all again,” 

You stared at her, as she waved and left, not actually believing what had just happened. 

Your bad pickup line had gotten you The Taylor Swift’s number, and she wanted to see a game. 

*****

September, 2015

We play dumb, but we know exactly what we’re doing

You never expect Taylor to actually text you. Hell, you weren’t convinced that the phone she let you text yourself from wasn’t a business phone. 

But as it turned out, Taylor did text you. 

First, it was a simple text asking about your recovery because a commentator had mentioned it. Then the conversation between the two of you just didn’t stop. 

And you realized very quickly that you never wanted it to stop. 

You found that Taylor was up at all of the weird hours you were and that no matter what she was doing, she was never too busy to say hello. Then texting turned into hanging out when you were in New York, Florida, or California, and before you knew it, it was a regular occurrence. 

“I fucking suck at this,” You groaned, letting go of the guitar strings and flopping onto your back. “And my fingers hurt now. I’m pretty sure they’re bleeding,” 

You held them up in the air pretending to examine them for the little flecks of red you were sure you would find there. 

“No, you just haven’t practiced enough to build calluses,” Taylor said, and you could hear the eye roll in her voice. 

“I got enough of them on my feet thank you,” You muttered, looking up at her through your eyelashes and wiggling your fingers at her.  “I don’t need guitar string scars on my hands too,” 

She caught your hand, smoothing it over her palm. “Don’t be overdramatic,” 

“Me!” You exclaimed indignantly, holding your hand to your chest in mock offense. 

“Yes,”  Taylor smirked. “This isn’t soccer where you can flop about,” 

You frowned. “I don’t flop,” 

She raised an eyebrow at you, and you pouted. “Fine. I don’t flop often, and not unless it’s necessary,” 

“Whatever you say,” She chuckled, shaking her head. “Sit up and I’ll help you,” 

You pouted but did as she asked, pushing yourself back to sit, crossing your legs so you could hold the guitar like she had shown you the first time you did this. 

Her lips ticked up at you, and she scooted so your knees were touching. 

“Alright so g,” She said, positioning her fingers on the string, waiting for you to copy her. 

You tried, moving each finger to the strings. “Like this?”

“Not quite,” She said, leaning forward and moving your pinky. “That one goes on the low e,” 

You nodded, trying not to blush at how close she was to you. So close that you could smell her coconut shampoo. 

“Now, strum slowly,” She said, leaning back and demonstrating. 

You did your best to copy her, slowly drawing the pick across each of the strings, but instead of making the beautiful chord she was, it made an off-key wamp. 

“I’m hopeless,” You said dramatically dropping your pick and flopping back on her fluffy carpet. “Worse than the whole Tom Sermanni debacle,” 

She sighed and took the guitar off, maneuvering so she was sitting next to you. “I didn’t know you were so easily discouraged. I thought with all the sports, you’d have some resiliency,” 

“I’m good at soccer,” You shrugged.  “My fingers aren’t long enough or sting enough for guitar,” 

“Were you good at soccer to begin with?” Taylor asked you softly. 

You scrunched your nose. The truth was that you had been playing soccer too long to remember when you started. It was always a part of your life. 

“No,” You said finally, biting your lip. “Alex absolutely destroyed me any time we practiced. She even stepped on my neck one time with her rain cleats and gave me a scar,” 

You pointed to the small dimple just below your chin. Sure it had been an accident, but it ultimately was the reason you were a midfielder instead of a forward. 

When you were young, Alex had always been better than you. More competitive, more ruthless, and she didn’t go easy on you in practice. It’s what made you such a good player. 

“But you still play?” Taylor pressed, and your eyes were drawn to how her lips formed a thin line. 

“Not as a forward,” You admitted easily.  “Mom got tired of all of the bickering,” 

Once you switched positions, you and Alex could work together instead of going head to head. It made you a lethal pair and let you both show off your talents. 

It also saved your mother’s sanity. 

“That’s not the point,” Taylor chuckled. “If you can change positions, you can play a chord on a guitar. You just need patience,”

“I wasn’t born with that,” You smirked. 

She rolled her eyes. “Try for me?” 

“Fine,” You sighed, pushing yourself to a sitting position yet again. 

It was kinda scary how easily she could bed you to her will. All she had to do was ask. 

“Put your fingers in position,” She said, leaning forward and checking to make sure they were on the right strings. “And then play each one individually,” 

You grabbed the pick from the floor beside you and very slowly brought it across the strings. All of the strings sounded right except for the pinky. 

“Press down a little harder,” She said, her tongue caught between her teeth as she reached over to help you. “And try again,” 

You did as she asked, and this time, the G chord sounded through her apartment. 

“Great job!” She cheered, and you felt heat rushing to your cheeks. 

“Thanks,” You cleared your throat and looked away.  “Couldn't have done it without you, literally, but um… can we be done with me playing? I think my fingers are going to fall off,” 

You turned towards her, not realizing how close you were, and nearly brushed her nose with yours. You pulled back, trying not to look at her lips, or her burning blue eyes, focusing on a very small freckle on her forehead because it felt like the safest option. 

The two of you hated a lingering breath, and the air between you felt electric. You would have sworn that her eyes flickered to your lips, just as her tongue poked out to wet her own. 

But she couldn’t be into you. 

She was America’s favorite pop star, she was a fully-fledged adult while you were still basically a kid, and most importantly, she was straight. 

“Yeah, we can do something else,” She hummed, reaching for the guitar and carefully pulling it over your head. 

“Can you play something for me?” You asked, scooping Meredith up and settling her in your lap when she nudged against your leg. 

For a cat that didn’t like being picked up and cuddled, she was very attached to you, except when you were playing the guitar. 

“Sure,” She nodded, grabbing her guitar and plucking out some chords. “Any requests?” 

You shook your head, smiling down at the cat as she kneaded her feet into your thighs and finally plopped down with a short purr. “Whatever you want,” 

“Now that’s no fun,” Her lips turned up, and her head ticked to the side and she reached over to scratch the cat's head. “Come on, what’s your dream surprise song?”

Your shoulders lifted and fell, and more red bled into your cheeks. “Um… I don’t suppose you have the 10-minute version of All Too Well available?”

She chuckled and shook her head, a playful smile pulling at her lips. “Unfortunately, it was a rant that I don’t currently have memorized,” 

“Hey, you asked for the dream song,” You held your hands up in defense, unable to stop yourself from laughing with her. “I think a lot of fans would agree to have that on their list,” 

She shrugged, half in agreement and half in amusement. “I just think it’s funny that it came from a line I said in an interview almost 4 years ago,” 

“Honestly, I think if a demo version of it did exist, it would have been leaked already. Some of your sleuthy fans are obsessed,” You said, your dimples popping out. “I couldn’t not ask for it,” 

She snorted “Trust me, I know. It was a good shot, and if it did exist, I’d totally play it for you. I trust you not to be secretly recording,” 

You hummed, trying not to think too hard about how she trusted you. How she would have played one of her most secret and tightly kept songs for you “But alas it does not,” 

“No, not in a playable form,” She shook her head, her blue eyes shining. “Pick a new one,”

You bit your lip, rolling through the list of songs in your head. “What about State of Grace,”

The piano version had always been one of your favorites, and you so often got the intro stuck in your head. 

“We can do that,” She smiled widely at you and began picking out the chords. “Only if you promise to sing along?”

Your nose scrunched. “You don’t want me to sing, I sound like a dying walrus, just ask Alex,” 

You knew Alex would agree, even if it wasn’t entirely true. You didn’t do music anymore. 

“Hum then,” She conceded, and you nodded. 

You could hum- just not in tune, but you didn’t have to be in tune with Taylor. 

You just had to be yourself, and you had never experienced that with anyone else. 

******

December 2015

Barefoot in the kitchen

Sacred new beginnings 

That became my religion, listen

You eyed the oven warily from across the island, leaning into the cool stone countertop as Taylor flitted around you, pulling out various ingredients. 

It wasn’t that you were afraid of the oven, it was just that you were not known for being a good cook. Actually, you were known for being a very not good cook. 

You were banned from making anything in any of your sister's kitchens, and you rarely ventured to make more than Dino nuggets (which you still burned) on your own. 

As long as you didn’t touch the controls, everything should be fine. 

“You alright?” Taylor asked, setting a stick of butter on the counter next to you, her hand landing gently on your forearm. “You’re staring at the stove,” 

“Yeah,” You blinked away from the copper appliance and towards Taylor, painting an easy smile across your lips. “I’ve just never made cookies before,”

She frowned. “Never ever?” 

You shook your head, biting your lip. You didn’t want to tell her that any time your sisters had tried, it ended in charcoal (and an oven fire… twice) instead of ooey, gooey deliciousness.

“We were more of sports people than baking people,” You explained with an easy shrug. “Plus after a hard game, the precut square ones always do the trick,” 

Her nose scrunched adorably. “But they don’t sell peanut butter chocolate chip cookies in the little squares,” 

“Kelley likes to bake. Jerry too. I’m not usually involved,” You answered with ease, taking the wooden spoon she passed you. “When Alex and I get together we usually get distracted trying new tactics and tricks,” 

You didn’t want to say that you were always banished from the kitchen, at least until the oven was off. 

A thoughtful look crossed her face.

This was the first time you had mentioned Alex by name and not followed it with a remark about something terrible she had done. The first time you hadn’t breezed by her existence in the greater context of the team. 

She wanted to pry, to ask why there was a strange tension between you and your older sister, but she wasn’t sure you would give her a straight answer. 

You were a master at spinning questions around (and running interviewers around in circles) when you wanted to, so the only way she would get the story was if you wanted to tell her. 

And she so desperately wanted you to want to let her into your personal life. 

 “Austin doesn’t like to cook either, but we usually chat while I get everything ready,” She said. 

“Alex and I talk better on the field,” Your head bobbed gently as you began to stir the ingredients in the bowl. “Soccer is our best communication method, and Kelley likes to feed us when we’re done,” 

She opened her mouth to ask more, to try and understand why the only place you really opened up was the field, but your phone buzzed obnoxiously on the counter. 

Your eyebrows furrowed as Emily’s contact photo popped up on your screen. 

“You can answer it,” Taylor hummed, grabbing the spoon and bowl from you and carefully measuring in more ingredients. 

You sighed. “It’s probably not important,” 

“But what if it is?” Taylor shrugged. She didn’t want you ignoring your other friends to hang out with her, even if she was slightly flattered that you always gave her your undivided attention (except when you watched movies). “Answer it,” 

“Sup loser,” Emily’s voice filled Taylor’s kitchen as your best friend’s face filled the screen, a wide smile showing off her dimples. 

You rolled your eyes. She would never let you live down how the thorns had beaten the red stars. Badly. Even if you had gotten a banger of a goal on her yourself. 

“Don’t rub it in,” You muttered, balancing the phone against a vase so you could keep stirring the batter, careful that you were the only person in the shot. “What do you want?” 

“Just figured I’d see if you’d seen the roster for January camp yet,” She hummed, shifting forward as if she was trying to see what you were doing, just as Taylor’s hands plopped a stick of butter into the bowl.  “Are you baking? Should I call the fire department?” 

You glowered at her, beginning to mix the thick batter, your tongue poking out the side of your cheek in concentration. 

You hadn’t had time to read your emails yet, not that you were worried. You just got so… distracted with Taylor. You wanted to be in the moment. You wanted to savor every second you got with the person slowly becoming your best friend. 

“No, yes, no,”  You said, eyes flickering towards Taylor and then back to the phone.“I’m supervised,” 

She raised an eyebrow at you. “You’re supervised? Are you clothed?” 

Red filled your cheeks at the implication, and you did your best to ignore Taylor’s raised eyebrow. 

She had heard about your reputation, but having one of your friends bring it up right in front of her still made you blush. You didn’t want her to think that you had some endgame. That you were playing her. 

You weren’t (even if the fluttering in your chest when you were with her made you want something… more). 

You cleared your throat. “I’m with a friend Sonnett,” 

It came out more biting than you meant for it to. More defensive. 

She rolled her eyes, holding her hands up in surrender. “Whatever you say, just be safe,” 

“Fuck off,” You bit back, your teeth clacking, even as Taylor dumped the chocolate chips into the bowl. 

“I love you too Y/n,” She cackled back, unphased by your sudden moodiness. She had seen it hundreds of times before when things in the pitch didn’t go your way. “See you in a few weeks,” 

“Bye loser,” You muttered, unable to resist returning her jab. 

A devilish smirk broke across her face, and you knew you would regret trying to tease her. “Bye y/n and y/n’s friend,” 

“Bye Sonnett,” Taylor added, as you clicked the end call button, and from Emily’s furrowed eyebrows just before the screen ended, you knew she didn’t know who had said goodbye to her. 

You anxiously rubbed the back of your neck, avoiding running your hand through your hair so you didn’t have to wash them… again. “Sorry about her,” 

“She’s charming,” Taylor hummed, taking the bowl of cookie dough from in front of you. “Is she always like that?” 

“No,”  You muttered, as she carefully scooped out a bit of dough with a spoon and transferred it to a baking sheet. “She can actually be pretty sweet when she wants to be. It’s why Rosie loves her so much,” 

Taylor’s head tilted to the side as she tried to follow your train of thought. Despite how much you talked about the team, you rarely ever mentioned the relationships within it. The team was intensely private in that way, and she respected that. Still, it didn’t mean she wasn’t curious… and you had technically mentioned it first. 

“Are they dating?” 

“No,” You snorted, shaking your head. They were two blind idiots in love, terrified of messing up a friendship. “They mostly just make moon eyes at each other right now. But hopefully winning a gold will give one of them the balls to finally make a move,” 

“Like she thought you had the balls to bake naked,”

She knew there had to be a story there, but getting you to actually tell her would be a bigger challenge. 

More red colored your cheeks, traveling up to your ears.

“It would be more likely for me to be naked, than for me to be baking,” you murmured, rubbing harder at the back of your neck. “That comment was probably more about the supervision. The last time she called I was sneaking out of a girl's apartment,”

Her eyebrow raised nearly to her hairline. “And you answered?” 

It was hard to wrap her head around how commonplace your hookups were. She didn’t like how casual you and everyone around you were about them, especially since you were so young.

“She wanted to check in,” You waved a hand dismissively. “We lost pretty badly,”

She didn’t quite know how those two pieces fit together. “But she asked if you needed the fire department,” 

You cleared your throat and looked away. “I… distracted a girl one time while she was cooking,” 

Taylor swallowed her grimace. She wasn’t allowed to be jealous. Not yet anyway. 

She was your friend. 

She scooped a small bit of batter with her finger and reached out to smear it on the very tip of your nose. “Sounds pretty dangerous,” 

Your eyes crossed as you tried to see the little blob, and Taylor laughed loudly at the expression. 

“You didn’t just do that,” 

Taylor sat back, smirking at you widely. “Oh, but I did. What are you going to do about it?”

You reached across the island, grabbing a small scoop of flour. 

“This,” You said, rubbing the flour into her cheek with a grin. “It’s a little lighter than your normal highlight, but it suits you,” 

She paused for a second before reaching for the flour container, dipping her hand inside. “Oh, it’s on now,” 

She didn’t give you time to duck as she tossed a handful of flour towards you, and you caught a stick of butter still out on the counter as you dove for cover. 

More flour powdered around you in a cloud as you peeked up from your hiding space, throwing a bit of soft butter towards her. It skidded across the counter, mixing with the sugar and flour smeared across the surface. 

It almost made you feel bad, but you would help her clean it up. 

“Missed me, loser,” 

Your nose scrunched at the name, and your eyebrows furrowed. 

You would not be a loser. 

You crawled towards your left, sneaking around the island until you saw her right foot, and a smile broke across your face. 

You dove for her, catching her around the waist, sending the bag of flour flying around you as you both fell, her peels of laughter echoing across the kitchen. 

“I don’t lose,” You chuckled into her neck as flour fell around you like snow. “Flour fights and otherwise,” 

Taylor rolled off of you, propping herself up on her elbow so she could look at you. “You’ve got a little bit of flour there,” 

She gestured towards your nose, and you lifted your shirt to wipe the area she indicated. You felt the way her eyes were immediately glued to your exposed abs, and you took an extra second to wipe your face so she could look. 

Her face was red when you dropped your shirt. 

“Thanks,” You winked, and the red bled from her cheeks down her neck. 

She snorted and shook her head. “That just made it worse,” 

You wiggled your eyebrows and licked your lips for good measure. “That’s ok, I’ve gotten way dirtier anyway,” 

“You’re too much,” She said, still giggling, watching your shoulder as she sat up. “Let’s get the cookies in the oven and we can clean up while they bake,”

You pouted dramatically. “What if I want to stay dirty?” 

She rolled her eyes, already pushing herself to her feet. “You don’t get cookies,” 

You wrinkled your nose. “Bummer,”

“Come on,” She held her hand out to you, and you took it, letting her pull you up. 

She stole a hug before she let you go, directing you towards where the broom was. 

And you couldn’t help the small smile pulled across your features, both at Taylor and the sight of the cats staring safely at you from the kitchen archway.

You would tolerate baking if it was with Taylor. 

*****

March, 2016

If you’ve got a girlfriend, I’m jealous of her. But if you’re single it’s honestly worse.

You were never good at sneaking. You hadn’t even tried in high school because you knew you would be caught, and after you moved out, there was no one to sneak from. 

Your North Carolina roommate didn’t care how late you were out. She barely even spoke to you at all. 

You were pretty sure she hated you, but which of your Courage teammates didn’t? 

Maybe the newfound freedom made you wreckless, or maybe you just didn’t care about changing your behavior when you were visiting your sister in Florida. 

But whatever the case, Alex was waiting for you when you stepped back into her house, her arms crossed and an annoyed look on her face. 

Part of you wondered if she had been standing there all night, or if she heard the door of your UBER shut and came down to greet you. You wondered if they turned the porch light on as soon as they got home, or if you just hadn’t noticed it when the car pulled up. 

“Where the fuck have you been?” 

You slowly turned towards her, kicking off your shoes, neatly placing them in the rack by the door, and pulling your sweatshirt over your head. “Out? Why?”

“It’s almost 2 am,” She grit out, her eyes flashing dangerously, but it did nothing to dissuade you. 

You shrugged, hanging your sweatshirt on the hook right next to her. “I got distracted” 

She scoffed, following you as you tried to brush past her. “You didn’t call or text, I was worried sick about you,”

You rolled your eyes. 

It wasn’t like you texted her often anyway. The two of you barely spoke as it was, nothing besides Hey how was your day messages and one-word responses on your end. 

It was weird to you that she was still trying to look after you. That she was still trying to be the protective older sister, when clearly your relationship had evolved. 

You weren’t the toddler crawling after her wherever she went, or the 4-year-old tripping over every soccer ball she passed you. 

You were a just barely adult trapped in the shadows of everyone’s expectation of you. 

“OK mom, chill out. I was just… busy,” You snarked, wiggling your fingers at her as you headed towards the kitchen. “I had my hands full,” 

She made a face at you. 

There had been a time when she was more like your mom than your mom was. A time when you were closer to her than anyone else. 

Now it felt like she barely knew you. 

“Just your hands? I thought you had more game than that,” Kelley said from the couch. 

“Trust me, I do,” You cackled, fist-bumping Kelley as you passed her, headed for the kitchen. 

“Don’t encourage her,” Alex grumbled, nudging her as they both followed after you. 

You again rolled your eyes, pulling out one of the stools at the island, settling into it, and running your hand through your wild curls. “Chill out Al, I made it here, ok?”

You didn’t like it when your hookups messed with your hair, but it seemed everyone was obsessed with it. 

“Good argument kid,” Kelley chortled, grabbing a plate of rock shaped objects from next to the stove and holding them out to you. “Cookie?” 

Your nose scrunched at the offered items, but you took one anyway, letting your shoulders relax as the tension between you and Alex mellowed. 

She had been acting as referee for the two of you for a very long time, almost as long as they had been dating, and she was an expert at this point. It helped that you would open up to her more than you ever would to Alex. 

You knew your sister and her girlfriend didn’t like your… relaxation method, but as long as your partner was into it and you were into it, you didn’t see a problem. It was better than some of the things you could be doing. 

“You know, eventually you’re going to have to stop this,” Alex muttered, sitting down at the counter beside you.

“Why?” You asked, examining the cookie. 

She laid her phone on the counter and slid it towards you, “Because the team aren’t the only people who have picked up on it now,”

You glanced down at the device. 

It was a Twitter feed of pictures of you and the girl you had just left. You reached out and scrolled, frowning when you saw all of the text tweets below it. 

@randomy/nfan: it’s unfair how ridiculously hot she is. 

@randomy/nfan2: no one needs to wipe their face that many times during a game

@randomy/nfan: Did you see how she stuck her tongue out each time she ran her hand through her hair? It should be criminal. 

@randomy/nfan3: she totally winked at me after she gave me her jersey. Too bad I wasn’t the one she took home after. 

@randomy/nfan5: can confirm she winked after she took her jersey off. She even flexed for the photo. 

@SoccerUpdates: Y/n Morgan spotted with Orlando rookie Sam Witterman after the game. 

“The fans need to mind their own fucking business,” You grumbled, sliding her phone back. “I didn’t flex for her either,”

Alex raised an eyebrow at you. “If it wasn’t for her, who was it for? Because Sam wasn’t even paying attention,”

You looked back at the cookie, using it to hide the sudden heat in your cheeks. “I’m an adult and I can do whoever or whatever I want,” 

You hadn’t been flexing for the fan. You had been flexing in case your favorite singer was watching the game like she said she would be. 

It was frustrating how obsessed the media was with you sometimes. The fans didn’t know the line between who you were on the field and in interviews and who you were off the field. They didn’t understand the concept of privacy.

“You can,” Kelley agreed, ignoring the glare Alex sent her way. “But aren’t you concerned that you give a part of yourself away each time you sleep with someone?” 

Your shoulders lifted and then fell. “It’s not like I receive,” 

“What?” Kelley frowned. 

“Half the time, I don’t even take my pants off. It’s not like they notice,” You mumbled, taking a bite of the cookie and wrinkling your nose at the crumbly texture of oats and coconut. “Why is everything in your house vegan?” 

“I never pegged you as a stone top,” Kelley breathed out, shaking her head. “And my cookies are vegan because your sister is vegan and enjoys being able to eat the things I make,” 

“You just don’t like that she won’t let you kiss her when you’ve had anything that actually tastes good,” You hummed, taking another bite of the too-dry cookie. “It’s just easier,” 

Alex’s eyebrows furrowed, a warning bell sounding in the back of her mind. “Easier?”

You nodded, swallowing the sand-like texture in your mouth. “It’s hard to find clothes in the dark without waking anyone up, and that makes sneaking out more difficult,”

“You don’t even stay long enough to say goodbye?” Alex grimaced. 

“No,” You said dismissively, reaching for another cookie and taking a bite. “Then they’d have a chance to try and get me to stay,”

Alex could only stare at you, wondering where the shy kid who had been terrified to ask your high school crush out went. When had you gone from sweet and reserved to a Fuck boy who didn’t even tell the person they were sleeping with goodbye?

 “Jesus,” She scoffed, running a palm across her face. “You’re only 18, you shouldn’t be participating in hookup culture,”

“Like you weren’t when you were at Berkeley,” Kelley chuckled. “Y/n is just having her frat boy era without a frat. Let the kid live,” 

“Yeah Alex, let me live,” You intoned, copying Kelley. 

Alex glared at the side of your head, much like she did when you were young and being a brat. “Fine then. Was she good?”

You tilted your chin toward her incredulously. “You really want to hear about my hookup?”

“Well you wanted me to let you live,” She sat back in her chair, crossing her arms. The stance that always made younger you cower. “So tell me, was she good? Did you enjoy yourself?”

You raised an eyebrow at her, staring for a long second before shrugging and taking another bite of your cookie. “She was fine, like the others,”

“Just fine?”

“Her nails were really long, so she gorged my back,” You said, turning and pulling the collar of your shirt down so she could see the angry red marks at the top of your back. “I was worried I was going to bleed all over my shirt,”

Alex’s eyebrows furrowed. You had to be the good one to get marks like that, and the idea that you were… talented in that area almost made her want to vomit. As did the notion that your… skills probably came from… practice. 

Lots of practice.

“So you ditched us for a just fine hookup?” Kelley asked, and it made the guilt bubble in your stomach. 

That was the only good part about playing Orlando… that you got to spend time with your sister (something that was rare after she left you for Berkeley).

It was the only real hope you saw at mending the bridge that covered the crater that her departure left in your relationship. 

And you sighed, sinking on the stool, your shoulders hunching. “I didn’t think I was going to be out as late as I was. I’m sorry,”

“Ok, but why go for a hookup anyway?” Alex asked, her hand finding your back and rubbing circles. 

You took another bite of your cookie, chewing it slowly and swallowing hard. 

You weren’t sure you wanted to open up. That you wanted to accept her comfort or her touch, but pushing her away felt… cruel. 

“Paul is trading me to Chicago. He said I’m not progressing, and I don’t fit his scheme. I went out because I needed to blow off some steam. I found out right before the game,”

The words felt like lead in your mouth. He hadn’t even had the guts to tell you himself. Instead, you found out from your manager, with his comments on your performance. 

“That sucks,” Kelley reached across the island to take your hand. 

“Paul is a fucking asshole,” Alex grit out, her hand falling from your back. “You’re better off honestly,” 

There was something else in her voice that you couldn’t quite place. 

“Chicago is going to be lethal with you and Chris,” Kelley hummed, squeezing you three times, before turning towards the cabinets and pulling out a plastic bag. “These have eggs and milk. I made them for you. You deserve it.” 

You instantly dropped the cookie in your hand and reached for the bag of peanut butter chocolate chip goodness. “Why didn’t you pull these out sooner?” 

“Because you snuck into our house at 1:30 am,” Kelley shrugged, leaning on the counter. “After ditching us,” 

“I wasn’t trying to ditch you,” You mumbled, pulling a cookie out of the bag and biting into it. Your eyes slid closed as the chocolaty peanut butter played across your tongue. 

They were nearly as good as the ones Taylor had made you the last time you saw her. 

“You were just trying to get laid so you could forget your problems,” Alex finished for you, frowning. You rolled your eyes, grabbing your phone out from your back pocket and snapping a picture of the cookies. 

Alex sighed heavily, reaching over and brushing a curl from in front of your eyes. “I just worry about you,” 

She promised your parents and older sisters she would look after you when you decided to forgo college and join the league(even if the 2 of you weren’t as close as you once were). She didn’t think letting you sleep your way through the teams was healthy, and she couldn’t help but wonder if it was a sign of something deeper going on with you. 

You were always so shy growing up. Even after you told them that you were into women, you had never been so… overt with your interactions. You were so sweet with the girl you took to your senior prom, so nervous around any girl you really liked. 

She wasn’t sure when that changed. 

“I’m doing fine,” You said, taking another bite of the cookie. “You’d be the first to know if I wasn’t,” 

“Promise?” She asked you, more softly. 

Every time she looked at you, she would see the tiny 4-year-old running after her, telling her you were fine after you skinned your knee or elbow. Or 7-year-old you swearing you were good to go after you broke your arm surfing a too-big wave. 

“With my pinky,” 

You held your finger up for good effect, and she linked hers with yours. 

“You guys are disgustingly adorable,” Kelley hummed, sliding you a glass of milk. “Now eat up, I want to actually sleep tonight,” 

OoOoOoO

Twitter wasn’t one of Taylor’s favorite social media apps. It was a pit of anxiety-inducing posts and hateful opinions, and she genuinely made an effort to stay away. 

But after watching your soccer game, she couldn’t help herself. 

It had been a humid night in Florida (according to the commentary team). You kept lifting your shirt to wipe the sweat out of your eyes, and your curls had been wild by the end of the second half. 

The grainy stream hadn’t been clear enough for her. It hadn’t done your abs justice so Taylor had relented to the bird app. To pictures taken by people who were actually at the stadium, and things spiraled from there. 

It should have made her feel… shameful that she was scrolling through photos of you, looking for one that showed the moment you lifted your shirt and maybe when you gave your jersey away. She should feel bad that she was looking for the moment you put your abs on full display. 

But she didn't. 

She had been slightly obsessed since you sent her a bathroom mirror picture after the game the US had played against Canada, your shirt pulled up to your chin to show off the perfect impression of a cleat on your skin. And getting to see them in person in her kitchen had only made things worse.

Maybe it was slightly more than slightly…

If you didn’t want her to look, you certainly wouldn’t have sent her the picture, but still. With the parade of women that always seemed to be surrounding you, she wasn’t sure that you had really given it that much thought. 

She sighed, scrolling through the feed, pausing on a picture that had been taken of you after the game. 

She really shouldn’t be this invested in you, not when your reputation was that of a player. 

She didn’t want to be played. Not again. 

But you were different with her. You weren’t the arrogant soccer player posing for photos, or winking at fans. You were sweet and charming and it took almost no effort to make you blush. 

And… she groaned, swiping to the next picture. 

Your arm was slung low across a girl's back as you guided her into a car, a wide smirk pulling at your lips. It left nothing of your plans to the imagination, but maybe that’s why you had done it. 

You wanted to world to think you were a fuck boy. You wanted them to believe that you had an impenetrable shell. 

She rolled her eyes. 

She knew differently. 

That didn’t mean that it didn’t send jealousy through her veins when she saw the pictures, even if she didn’t really have the right to be jealous. 

She sighed again, scrolling past the pictures. 

At least she knew that you were still technically single (though that might have actually been worse). 

Her phone buzzed in her hand, and she grabbed the message from the top of the screen. 

It was a picture of a bag of cookies.

Soccer Hottie: Kelley made me cookies. They weren’t as good as yours

She smiled at the screen, her jealousy melting. Though she was slightly disappointed a picture of your face hadn’t been included. 

I can make you more when you visit me

Soccer Hottie: I’d like that 😘. I’ll have to check my schedule. 

At least she got a part of you that none of your hookups did. She got to see the things you cared about. She got to see your likes and dislikes. 

That was more than any of your hookups would ever get, and that made it easier to be your friend. 

*****

June 2016

I watched from a distance as you Made life your own

“You know I hate this game,” You sighed, resting your chin on your hand and staring at the Scrabble board. 

It was the same expression you made when you stared at the stupid app Taylor made you download so you could play her, except no one was ever there to heckle you while you tried to figure out what your next move should be. 

She also didn’t rush you or set a timer so you couldn’t take all day. 

“It’s better than Monopoly,” Emily shrugged, extending her legs so her feet were resting in Rose’s lap. “Last time we played there was a fistfight,” 

Rose hummed, squeezing Emily’s foot and shifting the tiles on her little ledge. “That’s why we switched to monopoly deal,” 

Board games were a staple during the downtime at camp, and this one was no different. With Rose (and Emily by default since they started dating) as your roommate(s), you had been roped into a quick Scrabble game while you all waited for team bonding. 

She reached out and placed 4 of her pieces, forming the word Focus around your word Cracker.

You frowned. You had been planning to make the word cutter, but now your c was gone and there was no way for you to connect to Emily’s R on the other side (though you weren’t sure exactly what word she had created considering the two center letters kept flipping in your head). 

You liked Monopoly better. It didn’t make your head hurt so much. 

Plus it was one of the few games where you always kicked Alex’s ass. 

“I still think you two have an unfair advantage over me,” you muttered, puffing out your cheek and pulling out your phone. You smiled as you scrolled to a very familiar contact. 

Emily’s eyebrows furrowed. “What are you doing?” 

“Leveling the playing field,” You shot her a wide smirk, as the ringing of the FaceTime app stopped and the little boop that meant your favorite person had answered sounded through the room. “Hey Scrabble queen,”

“Hey, what’s up?” Her lips ticked up in a smile that she only used when she was with you, and you saw an unfamiliar painting and a microphone behind her.

She must be at the studio. 

You knew she was working on an album, though you’d been reluctant to hear any spoilers. You didn’t want to hear about a new… love interest. You didn’t think you could take it, and you needed to focus if the team was going to do well at the Olympics. 

“I need your help,” You pouted at the phone, making your eyes as big and innocent as you could. “Im shitty at scrabble and I don’t want to lose to Rosie and Emily,”

Taylor rolled her eyes at you. 

“Hey! Why do you get to phone a friend!?” Emily exclaimed, reaching for the phone, and the semi-familiar voice on the other end. “Is it the person who was with you last time I called?” 

You shrugged nonchalantly, shifting so she couldn’t steal your phone without looking at your tiles (thereby disqualifying her). “Because I’m dyslexic,” 

“You’re getting better actually. You got a triple word last week,” Taylor said, and your eyes darted back toward her. You hadn’t told her it was really Kelley who saw the triple word yet. “Can you show me the board and your letters please?” 

“You didn’t answer my question, is this mystery girl?” Emily cut back in, even as Rose held her foot so she didn’t try to tackle you to see who you had called. 

“She’s not a mystery,” You scrunched your nose and flipped the camera, giving Taylor a good view of the board. “She’s my friend,” 

Rose raised her eyebrow at you. “Then what’s her name, you know so we can call her something else?” 

“Taylor,” You answered with an easy shrug, not really thinking about it. 

You doubted they’d make the connection anyway. 

Not unless Taylor said something incriminating, and you doubted she would considering how careful she was. 

“Ok, I think I’ve got it. I’ll text you the next couple of moves,” Taylor said, looking sideways over the phone and nodding. “I’ll talk to you later, I’ve gotta go,” 

“Thank you!” You flipped the camera around and sent her a goofy smile.

“Anytime,” She mirrored your smile and blew you a little kiss. “Talk to you later babe,” 

You caught the kiss and waved, staring at the phone for a very long second even after it had gone back to your Lock Screen. 

It made your chest feel warm that even when she was busy, she answered your calls. That she always made time for you. 

“If she’s your friend, then you have one hell of a crush,” Emily said, drawing you back to the moment. 

You blinked back up at the pair, the warm feeling in your chest replaced with sudden anxiety. “What?” 

“She called you babe,” Rose supplied, her voice very soft like she was afraid to startle you. 

They all knew of your… reluctance to settle down, and she couldn’t help but feel like there was a deeper reason behind it that they were all overlooking. 

Emily snorted, not catching the hesitance in Rose's voice. “And you stared at the phone after you hung up for a solid 30 seconds,” 

Red immediately flooded your cheeks, and your hand clenched at your side. “We’re just friends,” 

Even if you enjoyed the flirting and your feelings were slowly surpassing the boundaries of friendship. She would never want someone like you. 

You were just a kid compared to her, bumbling your way through your career and fucking it up at every turn. 

Plus she was straight. 

It was too cliche for you to handle. 

“Ok,” Rose conceded, shooting Emily a very serious look to not push you more. 

It never turned out well when they pushed. 

“It’s still your turn,” Emily said, her voice also going soft, gesturing towards the scrabble board. “Let’s see how good the mystery Taylor really is,”

You hummed, pulling up the text, and ignoring the little Good luck 😜 that accompanied her instructions. 

Your tongue made its way between your teeth as you read the step-by-step text, each letter separated by a double space, and you slowly reached for the letter tiles and slid them into place, forming the word Resonate with the help of two of Emily’s words and one of Roses. 

“Ha, a quadrupole word,” You cheered, typing out a thank you text to Taylor as Emily groaned. 

Rose rolled her eyes, still smiling softly at you.“And let me guess, it’s the easiest one she sent you?” 

She hadn’t seen you this… engaged in a long time. She hadn’t seen you so… happy, not since you started playing at North Carolina, and she hadn’t seen you show more interest than a quick one-night stand. 

“Yep,” You popped the p and smiled wickedly at them. “read it and weep losers,”

“You’re only winning because of the mystery scrabble queen,” Emily pouted. “What, does she have an entire empire made of word blocks too?”

“She’s not a fucking mob boss. She’s just a friend, and I told you, it’s fair because it levels the playing field,” You shrugged, failing to mention that the butterflies Taylor sent swirling in your chest were much more than friendly. 

It wasn’t like they hadn’t beaten you each time you played this game before. “Now make your move before I sic the time turtle on you and you have to draw a wicked wango card,” 

Rose raised her eyebrow at you. “Since when did you watch Friends? 

“Yeah! I thought you hated anything remotely scripted besides superhero movies and Indiana Jones?” Emily added, crossing her arms indignantly. “It’s how you get out of literally every movie bonding night,” 

Your shoulders lifted and fell, and red bled into your cheeks. 

You hadn’t really minded the comedy eating kettle corn with Taylor in a massive pillow fort, though Meredith and Olivia pawing at your bowl while Taylor pouted at their adamant ignoral of her had made it all worth it (they had been very unhappy about the quick baths she made them take because they were covered in flour from your little food fight). 

Plus you thought that Bamboozled was probably the only game show that wouldn’t put you to sleep (you agreed with Joey that it wasn’t that complicated). 

“Friends doesn’t really have a plot,” You muttered, looking down at your phone and moving your tiles around so you didn’t have to think about your next move. “And it’s funny so it’s not so bad,” 

Rose made a low noise, poking Emily with her toes, telling her not to push.

She had a feeling that your sudden interest in the show had more to do with who you were watching it with than the comedy. And she wouldn’t be the one to meddle in what was your first real relationship. 

She wouldn’t let Emily either. 

The wrath that would meet them from all the vets and your older sister was not something she wanted to deal with. 

“Come on Sonny, make your move,”

******

July 2016

But I stay when you're lost, and I'm scared, and you're turning away

2016 was the summer of the apocalypse. 

There was no other way to put it. 

You never thought a singular PK could turn your team and the rest of the world against you. But it did. 

You only got to play the last 10 minutes of the game, and your only job was to make the penalty. 

But you missed it. Badly. 

Jill made it clear before you were even back in the locker room that you would need to earn your way back. Roary had benched you as soon as you returned to Chicago. But the worst was the media, and the slew of hate that had been unleashed on you the second your foot left the ball. 

It rivaled the hate Hope was getting, and that was saying something. 

You blew out a long breath, took another swig of your lukewarm beer and slowly kicked the ball back toward the PK spot. 

One of the few benefits to Chicago was that the high school soccer field was within walking distance from your shitty apartment. The other was that the high school soccer field stayed open all night and had good lighting. 

You took another swig before gently setting the bottle next to four of its already empty friends, and setting up for the kick. It should have concerned you that the ball was slightly blurry, or that you were a bit wobbly on your feet, but it didn’t.  

Not when you so clearly saw your path to regaining your future. 

You rolled your neck, squaring your shoulders and looking from the ball to the net. You could imagine the thousands of people screaming, and the keeper jockeying in her line, waiting for you. 

You took another breath, leaning forward. You shuffled your feet, starting the countdown in your head. 

5

4

3

2

But just before you got to 1, your phone buzzed in your pocket, pulling your focus from the upper right corner of the net just as you fell into step for the pk. The ball connected with your foot at the wrong angle, and was sent flying into the stands instead of towards goal. 

“Fuck,” You muttered, running a hand through your hair and pulling the offending device from your back pocket. 

Blondie👱🏻‍♀️🎤: Hey, you ok? They said you weren’t on the bench, but didn’t give a reason.

You couldn’t help the small smile that pulled at your lips when you saw Taylor’s contact on your Home Screen, even if you had to squint to make out her message. 

She was one of the only people who was still talking to you after the Olympics. One of your only friends who hadn’t ditched you. 

She liked you for you, and what you did on the pitch didn’t change that. Maybe that was why you were so drawn to her. Why the hangouts had gotten more frequent? 

Maybe you just liked hanging out with her.

You took three steps back towards your drinks, plopping down and grabbing your beer. 

I’m good. Cosch bwndnwd me bdcajwe hd thihls I zuck.

You swallowed the last of the sudsy liquid as you hit send, lining it up with the others and reaching for a new one as 3 little dots appeared. 

Blondie 👱🏻‍♀️🎤: ???

You sighed, cracking the bottle open with your cleat and typing out your response. Your fingers slipped across the screen, and it took you a second to find the send button. 

Hd said I’k not aolowed badk pn the vrncn until I deserve to bd a profrsakonal spcver player abIN/

The message instantly went to read, but the three little dots didn’t appear again. 

You shrugged, taking a long sip of your beer (nearly downing the entire thing) before you placed the bottle next to its partners and began to kick a new ball toward the penalty spot, your phone dangling dangerously between your fingers. 

You let out a long breath, lining up for the shot, your eyes lifting from the fuzzy ball to the equally fuzzy net. 

But your phone buzzed in your hand before you could step into the kick. You lazily held it up to your face, clicking the accept button when you saw the FaceTime logo. 

“Whad upp T-Swizzle,” You smiled dopily at Taylor’s face as she appeared on the screen, the stadium lights glinting off of your glassy eyes. 

“Hey, are you ok? Your texts were kinda crazy,” She asked, her eyebrows furrowing with worry at your slurred speech. 

“‘M great!” You cheered, spinning in place as if to show how great you were. 

Her frown deepened. “You sound drunk?”

You rapidly shook your head. “‘M nottt,” Your voice caught on the last t, and you quietly stared at her for a long second before your dopey smile was back.  “‘M practicin’ PKs. Wanna see?” 

“No, Y/n,” She said, trying to sound stern. But it was too late, you had already flipped the camera around to face the goal. 

“Those arrr the ones I made,” You slurred, the camera shaking violently as you tried to focus on each of the balls that had made it to the back of the net. 

The camera then suddenly jerked, panning towards the bleachers. “And those arr the ones I missed. I missed a lot. I suckkkk,” 

Several balls were haphazardly strewn across a set of rusting bleachers and lying by a dilapidated fence. But what really caught Taylor’s attention was a silver and gold cardboard box and a pile of empty bottles sitting at the gate.

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. She knew that things had been difficult for you, but she never expected you to get drunk and go to a random field at night. Or to make your way through a case of beer like she was sure you had. “Y/n turn the camera around,”

It took you a second to flip the camera back around, but your now somber face met her when you finally got it. 

She tried not to think about how adorable your pout was (an expression you rarely ever used when you were sober). 

“How many beers have you had?” She asked you seriously. 

“Few?” you shrugged, squinting towards where the box was and biting your lip. “Almost gone,”

“I can see that,” She breathed out, trying to stay calm. “How big of a pack did you buy?” 

Your grin returned, and you threw your arms out wide, spinning in a circle. “The biggggest,”

“Y/n,” Taylor sighed again, waiting for you to get back in frame. “Where are you? I’m gonna send a car to pick you up,”

“No. I gotta clean up annd practice so I can play,” You said, looking away from the camera, biting your lip. “I gotta nooot suckkk,” 

“You don’t suck,” Taylor said, already pulling up her contacts. “Tell me where you are, and I will help you clean up before the car arrives,” 

The line went quiet for a long second, and she looked up to see your eyebrows furrowed. She wasn’t sure if you were just trying to think, or if you were trying not to cry (it was hard to tell with how red and glassy your eyes were). 

“Y/n?”

“I don’ suck?” Your bottom lip wobbled. 

She shook her head. 

“No. You missed a shot. It happens to everyone,” She repeated your own words back to you, ones she had heard you speak hundreds of times. Ones she meant with all of her heart. “Now tell me where you are. I’m worried about you,” 

You buzzed your lips. “The high school field by my apartment,” 

“Ok,” She said, feeling the knot in her chest loosen as she scrolled through her contacts and sent a frantic text to her security. Jason would send someone to get you. Someone who would keep you safe. “I have someone coming to get you,” 

“I gotta clean up,” You poked your bottom lip out, stumbling over to the ball bag and struggling to get it open one-handed. 

“I’ll stay on the line with you while you do,” Taylor said, keeping her voice soothing, and calm, even as she sent more frantic texts to her security and assistant moving her schedule around for the next few days. “And Tony will help once he gets there,” 

You paused, from where you were sloppily gathering up balls and looked at the camera with wide eyes. “Iron man?” 

Taylor resisted the urge to roll her eyes or coo at the adorable expression (though she did store it away in her memory bank for later recollection). “No, not the same Tony,” 

You frowned, stumbling towards the stands and using a foot using push the balls to the bottom so you could gather them. 

You tripped as you stepped up onto the silver seating, intent on getting the stray ball you had sailed to the top of the stands. “Nashatasha wass cuter anyway,” 

“Yeah,” Taylor said slowly,her eyes scrunching as you nearly tumbled down the open side of the bleachers. “Why don’t you sit down? Tony is almost there to help you anyway. He can get the rest of the balls,”

All she needed was for you to fall out of the stands and hurt yourself. 

Your tongue poked between your teeth like you were thinking before the phone shook violently as you plopped down onto the bleachers and rested your chin on your hand. “Kay,”

She blew out a breath as you blinked lazily at her. “Don’t worry, Tony will be there soon,” 

She said the words for herself as much as she said them for you. She didn’t like the idea of you being drunk and alone on a random high school field in the middle of the night. 

She needed you to be safe, and ok. It was a protective instinct that curled around her chest in a way that it had only for one other person. 

Tony would be there soon, and they would get you back to your apartment and she would be able to breathe again. 

OoOoOoOo

“Alright, I think I’ve got her all settled,” A salt and pepper-haired man said, as he tucked your Arsenal blanket under your chin as you snorted softly on the couch. His mirror-finish aviators hung from his v-neck shirt, something more casual than anything Taylor had ever seen him wear before. 

It was a testament to how quickly he had abandoned his vacation to help her (and you by extension), and for that, she would be forever grateful. 

“Thank you, Tony,” She said softly, keeping her voice down so she didn’t wake you. “Really,” 

“It’s no problem ma’am,” He waved her off, his southern drawl calming whatever worry was still left in her chest. “I was happy to help when Jason contacted me, and Ms. Morgan is a very cooperative drunk,” 

You had been incredibly well-behaved when Tony arrived, allowing him to guide you into the back of the SUV and then giving him your apartment address and your keys with no arguments. You didn’t even complain when he basically carried you up the stairs because you were too wobbly to walk. She wasn’t sure if it was because she was on the phone with you, or if you were just too tired to fight.

“Hopefully we don’t have more of these encounters to compare it against,” Taylor said, glancing at the text from her personal assistant. “Casey texted me, my plane is ready, so I should be there fairly soon,” 

Tony made a low noise of agreement, placing a glass of water and an Advil on the coffee table next to your sleeping form, and taking a few steps back to sit on one of the stools, shifting so he could check that the three distinct dog bowls below him also had water. 

The three huskies had refused to leave your side as soon as he got you laid down on the couch. 

“I’ll stay outside her door until you arrive in case there are any issues,” Tony said, looking around your tiny apartment yet again to make sure that there wasn’t anything else he could do so that you would be comfortable when you woke up. “Would you like to stay on the line?” 

Taylor nodded. “That would be great,” 

Even though he was there, she wanted to stay too. She needed to be present in case you woke up. She didn’t want you to feel alone, especially when it seemed your team had abandoned you. 

Tony stood, plugging in your phone and setting it up on the coffee table so that Taylor had a clear view of your sleeping face. 

“I’ll be just outside the door, and my phone is on in case you need me,” He said, squatting so he could look into the camera, and send her a small smile. “I’ll see you when you get here,” 

She sent him a wave as he disappeared, leaving the two of you alone (save for the gray huskie who had wiggled under your arm and the black one who was curled up behind your head). 

She let out a long breath, watching the slow rise and fall of the edge of your Arsenal blanket. 

You looked so young in your sleep.

You were young, she had to remind herself. You were barely 19, even if you wanted to act like you were so much older. Even if you had more responsibilities and people scrutinizing you than most other people your age. 

You shifted, pulling the blanket closer to your face, one eye sleepily blinking open. 

“Tay?” 

She hummed, keeping her voice soft. “Yeah, I’m still here,” 

You shifted, wrapping your arm tighter around the gray husky in your arms. 

“Don’t ever leave,” You murmured the words into the dog's fur so softly that Taylor almost didn’t hear them. “I like you too much. Even if I don’t deserve you,” 

“I like you too,” She smiled gently at the words that sent butterflies swirling in her chest. “Go back to sleep,”

She had liked you too for a very long time, even if she was still hesitant to admit it. 

“Noooo,” You pouted, forcing your eyes further open to look at her. They were breathtakingly blue, just like your older sisters. “I like you like Alex likes Kelley, but I’m not supposed to. You’re too good,” 

Her eyebrows furrowed. 

Why weren’t you supposed to like her? What did you mean that she was too good? 

“And you’re straight,” You added, shifting so your nose was hiding behind the dog in your arms. 

“You can like me Y/n,” She murmured, wanting nothing more than to reach out and brush your messy curls from in front of your sleepy eyes. “I like you too,”

It wouldn’t be worth it to argue with your assumption of her sexuality now anyway. You were too drunk to remember in the morning. 

Your eyes blinked open wider in an adorable doe-eyed expression. “Really?”

“Yes,” She nodded, her lips ticking up impossibly more at your adorableness. “Now sleep. I’ll see you soon,” 

You made a low noise, your eyes sliding closed as you snuggled your nose into the dog under your arm. 

She waited for your breathing to even out, (and several minutes after that) before she clicked off the call to catch her flight. She could watch your sleep for the rest of your lives, and still not get enough. 

She wondered if you were dreaming of her, or of soccer balls and shots that you didn’t miss. Or maybe you were dreaming of a world where one kick didn’t have your teammates and friends turning their backs on you. 

Maybe one day she would ask you. 

OoOoOoO

The first thing you noticed as you came into consciousness was that your mouth felt like it was full of cotton and your head felt like Ashlyn had used it as a ball during punting practice, or like Megan had used it to practice her perfect PKs.

You groaned, shifting on the couch, accidentally displacing the three dogs that had cuddled in around you at some point. 

You had no idea why you were sleeping on the couch, instead of in the king-sized bed you had purchased so the 4 of you had room. 

Come to think of it, you didn’t actually remember how you got here. 

The last thing you remembered was cracking open your 4th beer and gathering your balls so you could shoot more penalties. You didn’t exactly like how the sudsy liquid tasted, but it did an excellent job at dulling the ache in your chest that had settled as soon as you took that fucking PK. 

The ache that went ignored by your sister and your teammates who were too wrapped up in their own grief to even check on you. 

You groaned, running a hand through your hair. At least you remembered to close the blinds, and put out Advil and water for yourself? 

You pushed yourself up, closing your eyes when your apartment spun around you, and pressing your fingers to the bridge of your nose. 

Three cold noses nudged your skin, and you slowly worked your eyes open and reached for the tall glass. 

“I’m ok guys,” You mumbled towards the three dogs sending you worried looks and took a large sip of the still-cool water. “It’s like when I give you guys too many treats,” 

The gray huskie on your left wined, butting her head into your arm. You reached over with your free hand to scratch behind her ear. “I’m ok Art, nothing a good cup of coffee can’t fix,” 

The red dog to your left also nudged you and you rolled your eyes, setting the glass down so you could scratch his head too, and you eyed the black dog still contently cuddled into your left leg. 

He was always the most chill of the floof pack, happy to just be in your presence. 

You would be happy to stay here all day. To let them love away the empty feeling that lingered after you like a bad cough. 

You blinked as a knock sounded at your door, the levity in your chest deflating like a popped balloon. 

It was probably one of your teammates coming to scold you for not sitting in the stands at last night's game. For ditching it instead of taking your punishment.  

The knock sounded again, and you blew out a long breath as you forced yourself to your feet. “I’m coming,” 

Artemis and Apollo trailed after you, stopping by the counter like they had been trained, and Orion stayed on the couch, watching over the living room like a centennial. 

You rolled your eyes at him, running a hand through your hair again, trying to at least pretend you were presentable, as you grabbed the door handle (barely even bothered that the deadbolt wasn’t latched)

You froze when you saw a head of blond hair and the bluest eyes you had ever seen instead of one of your teammates. 

“Taylor? What are you doing here?” You frowned, opening the door wider with one hand and rubbing your tired eyes with the other, hoping it would quell the dizziness that actually standing brought on. “Don’t you have a recording thing today?”

“I have a recording thing every day,” She said, stepping closer to the door. “You scared the shit out of me and I needed to come to check on you myself,” 

Your eyebrows furrowed. 

How had you scared her? Did you call her? 

“Sorry. I don’t really remember the details of last night,” You opened the door wider, your hand lingering in your curls. “Do you wanna come in?”

Taylor nodded, stepping closer to you. “I’d like that,” 

Took a step back, looking behind you towards the dogs. 

“The gray one is Artemis and the red one is Apollo. Orion is black and probably hiding out here somewhere, he’s not a big fan of meeting new people,” You gestured towards the husky’s two waiting for their release command. “Do you want to say hello? They won’t jump, but I know you’re more of a cat person,” 

She looked over your shoulder, nodding. “Yeah,” 

You turned towards the dogs, waving across your waist. “Vale, saluda,” 

Art sniffed at you as she pushed herself up and slowly waltzed past you, Apollo close on her tail as they made their way over to Taylor. 

She tensed like she expected them to tackle her, but they didn’t. Apollo politely sniffed at the hand she had extended as Art circled her twice before nudging gently against her leg, asking to be pet. 

“They’re so well-behaved,” Taylor said softly, her fingers winding their way into the soft fur of Art’s neck. 

“Thanks,” You said, watching carefully as Apollo pressed his into Taylor’s other leg, indicating he wanted to be pet too. “They’re pretty mellow for huskies, as long as they've had their exercise,”

Art paused as Taylor’s other hand began to scratch Apollo's back, and you sighed, pointing away from the two of you. “De,”

Yes, they were well-behaved, but their relationship was also similar to the one you shared with your sister. Apollo liked to rile his older sister up, just like you loved to get a rise out of Alex. 

You didn’t think that Taylor would appreciate a play fight breaking out. 

Art sniffed at you, but did as you asked, her nails tapping as she trotted off towards the living room with Apollo at her heels. 

Maybe they would go find Orion and show him the visitor wasn’t so scary. 

“Want a drink?” You asked, awkwardly scratching the back of your neck with one hand and gesturing to the small bar in your kitchen with the other. “I think I have coffee somewhere,”

It was mundane in comparison to Taylor’s full marble kitchen. Small and disheveled on all accounts. 

The linoleum blue counter had a crack running down the center and you knew that both wooden stools wobbled dangerously when they weren’t in the right spot. But Taylor didn’t complain as she followed you. 

“Coffee would be great,” She hummed, and the stools squeaked as she settled onto one and placed her bag on the other. “I think you could use some too after the night you had,”

You shrugged, turning your back on her, pulling the coffee out of the freezer, and settling up the coffee maker. “What happened last night?”

You didn’t turn to look at her, busying yourself in grabbing 2 coffee mugs and a glass and getting the milk and a carton of orange juice from the fridge. You would have offered her a glass too, but considering how often you drank directly from the carton, you didn’t think it was a good idea. 

“Well,” She drew out the word, and you felt her eyes on you as you moved through the kitchen. “I texted you because you weren’t on the bench, and you responded mostly with self-deprecating gibberish, so I called you,” 

You made a low noise in the back of your throat, grabbing your sugar jar and sliding it towards her, but not meeting her eyes. “I was probably a couple beers deep at that point,”

“Just a couple?” You could almost hear her raised eyebrows, and you finally turned to look at her, placing the coffee pot between you. 

You shrugged, smiling impishly as you poured yourself a cup of coffee. “A few more than a couple,”

“Try a 24-pack,” Taylor scoffed, pouring herself her own cup of coffee. “You’re lucky you didn’t get alcohol poisoning,”

You set your coffee on the counter, sucking all the warmth you could from your mug, your blasé mask cracking. 

“I didn’t drink it all last night,” You said, finally meeting her eyes. “I only had like 13 left,”

She sighed, reaching out and catching your hand. “Still,” 

You paused, blowing out a very long breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you, or make you fly all the way out here and waste a day,”

Her eyebrows furrowed at the end of your sentence. The rapid turn in conversation. 

“I’m not wasting anything,” She said slowly. “You obviously needed someone and I’m happy I could be here for you,”

You grimaced. You didn’t deserve to have someone there for you. 

You were the one who fucked up the team. The one who ruined everything. 

“Hey,” Taylor squeezed your hand again, drawing your eyes back to her, like she could read your thoughts. “No time I spend with you is a waste,”

Red flooded your cheeks, up to your ears, and you tried to hide it with a sip of your too-hot coffee. 

She smiled gently at you, looking at the microwave clock behind you. “But we can talk about that later. You have to get ready for practice,” 

“I’m not going,” You scoffed, taking another sip. “There’s no point,” 

“Y/n, avoiding practice isn’t going to fix what’s happening,” She said, her voice patient.  “It’ll only make it worse,” 

A dark look crossed your features. 

“It can’t get worse,” You said, your voice too calm. Too dangerous. “I’ve already been told I won’t be fielding for the rest of the season, and Mallory Pugh has been called into camp to replace me. My soccer career is over at the ripe old age of 19,” 

Despite your efforts to hide it, she could still hear the misery in your voice. The utter defeat. 

Her head tilted to the side, and she took a strategic sip of her coffee. “I thought you didn’t lose?” 

You shook your head. “This is different,” 

You couldn’t fight the system. Not when it was so dead set on driving you out. 

If only you could be like your perfect older sister. 

“Is it though?” She asked, too nonchalantly. “Prove them wrong. Show up and shove it in their faces,” 

You sighed. You knew exactly what she was doing. You always responded better to challenges than to comfort. 

Plus if you left, you weren’t sure Taylor would be here when you returned, and you preferred spending time with her over a useless practice anyway. 

“And I’ll be waiting here for you after practice,” She added as if sensing one of the reasons for your hesitation. “We can grab some dinner and hang out. But first, you need to go kick some ass. It’ll make you feel better anyway,”

You took another long sip of your coffee, before nodding begrudging. 

She was right. Skipping practice would only make things worse, even if going would suck anyway. 

OoOoOoO

“Rough night?” Christen smirked at you, bumping your shoulder as you jogged onto the practice field, fixing your practice jersey. 

You shrugged, sending the striker a half smile. “Something like that,”

She caught the collar of your practice jersey, peeking at the skin underneath it. “I don’t see any hickeys so it couldn’t have been too bad,” 

You batted her hand away, unable to stop the smile that accompanied your rolled eyes. “I don’t have any. I didn’t hook up last night,”

She raised her eyebrow at you. 

It was rare you skipped a team thing unless it was for a girl, even when you weren’t on the bench. She knew that you had been bedhopping more to cope with the loss at the Olympics and the tenuous situation with both the national team and Chicago that you found yourself in. 

She supposed it was a way for you to distract yourself, even if she didn’t think it was what was best for you. 

“Roary was pissed you weren’t at the game,” She said instead of pushing. You were an adult, and what you did off the field was really none of her business. 

“I know,” You mumbled, stepping into line behind Huerta, scratching the back of your neck, a strange look crossing your face. “I already had a meeting with him. It’s why I missed activation,” 

Christen frowned. “He wasn’t too hard on you, was he?” 

He had a reputation for being… abrasive, and Christen was aware of how many times he had been so with you. 

You shrugged again. It wasn’t like Christen could do something about how awful he was. Plus you knew Christen would report anything you said right back to Alex. 

“No more than usual,” You said, sounding uninterested.  “We actually talked about how I’ve improved since coming back from Rio,” 

While he had assigned you 8 laps after practice, overall the meeting hadn’t gone as badly as you feared. Considering how awful the Red Stars were performing with you not even allowed on the bench, you shouldn’t have been so surprised that he was sticking you back in the starting 11 for the midweek game. 

So despite his critique of your personality and playing style, he had conceded that Chicago scored more when you were on the field to service Christen. You would take it as a win. 

Christen’s eyebrows furrowed, not quite believing you. “That’s good I guess,” 

You made a low noise, watching Sofia run the drill so you knew what was happening. 

It was a simple give-and-go with the midfielders, and a shot on goal. 

It would be easy. 

And frankly, it was easy. 

Your fingers wiggled as you watched Sofia launch the ball just over the crossbar, waiting for the goalkeepers to swap so the striking coach would send you the ball. 

You let yourself sink into the drill, and just as he passed you the ball, it was like your brain turned off. You easily tapped it to Colaprico, skirting around Krueger and turning just in time to receive the through ball the midfielder sent back. 

It only took a little flick of your heel to get past Naeher, and send the ball into the back of the net, and head to the back of the other line with little fanfare. 

“Nice shot,” JJ reached out her hand for a low five as you passed her, and you tilted your chin at her as you passed, a smile playing on your lips. 

Taylor had been right, playing did make you feel better. 

And you didn’t have to think about the butterflies her presence sent flying in your stomach. 

“Maybe you have the Morgan gene after all,” Roary said gruffly, stepping onto the practice pitch, his hand landing heavily on your shoulder.

Your back went straight and the hint of a smile slid off your face. 

“I might be able to make an acceptable attacking midfielder of you yet,” He continued, oblivious to how rigid your posture was. 

Christen cleared her throat, casually stepping between the two of you and forcing him to let go. “That was a really good goal. I bet you and Al could make that work for the national team too,”

“Hm,” You made a low noise of agreement, looking away from her. 

You didn’t want to say that with your reputation, you doubted you would ever get a call up again. You were pretty sure Jill already blacklisted you anyway.

“We’ll have to see about that,” Roary chuckled, and his hand found your shoulder again, squeezing tightly. “A few extra film sessions could help,” 

A shiver ran down your spine. You hated film sessions, especially with Roary, but you nodded anyway. 

It wasn’t like you had a choice. Roary always got what he wanted.

He squeezed your shoulder one more time before heading off to harass someone else, but you knew he would be back. You were one of his favorite targets. 

“You know you don’t have to do sessions with him,” Christen said when he was out of earshot, and you looked away. 

She could never understand that you couldn’t say no to him. That your precariousness with both the Red Stars and the USWNT meant that you couldn’t piss off a coach. It meant that you were at his mercy, even if you didn’t want to admit it. 

“He’s an asshole, but he has some good insights,” You said, watching as JJ ran the opposite side of the drill with Huerta. 

Christen used a finger under your chin to force you to look back at her. “That’s not what I asked you,” 

“I know Chris,” You said with too much force, jerking away from her. “I can handle Dames. Right now, I need all the help I can get to show Jill that I deserve my fucking spot. If he wants to help, then so be it,” 

She paused, her hand still hovering in the air where your chin had been. 

“Ok,” She said slowly, her eyebrows furrowing while she tried to decipher your overreaction. “I just wanted to make sure,” 

You swallowed hard, moving up in line. “I know. Sorry, I snapped. I was up late,”

Her lips tilted into a teasing smirk. “Ah yes, you got fucked to get over how Roary fucked you out of your starting spot,”

You threw your head back and groaned, red coloring your cheeks as the line around you erupted in giggles. 

You would never outlive your… reputation, but that was ok because at least it stopped Christen from asking too many questions. Questions that would make their way back to your sister.

They would never believe that the girl who had distracted you wasn’t one you were currently sleeping with anyway. 

“Morgan, you’re up,” The striking coach said, his voice sobering your teammates. “Let’s see if you can do the other half of the drill as well as you did the first,” 

You easily stopped the ball he passed your way, winking towards McCaffrey. “I’ll do better. There’s a reason I’m a midfielder after all,” 

You would have to thank Taylor for making you practice. She was right, it did make you feel better, and you were on your way to proving why you were one of the best in the world.

OoOoOoO

“I can’t believe you’ve never had a burrito before,” You said, biting into your chicken and queso concoction. 

It had been an easy decision to grab Chipotle after practice, one you hadn’t really thought about until the text came through that Taylor didn’t know what to order. 

That she had never been to one of your favorite post-practice restaurants. 

“I’ve just never gotten around to it. They’re not common in Nashville,” She hummed, delicately biting into her own streak and bean creation. “How was practice,” 

You scrunched your nose but decided that pointing out that Chipotle was a national chain (and that you and Emily had eaten at one when you played Australia in Nashville) wasn’t worth it. You felt like there was something… off about her relationship with food, but you didn’t know if you were close enough to be able to bring it up. 

You honestly didn’t know if you were just friends, because the way she looked at you felt like you were edging on something more. 

“Fine,” Your shoulder lifted and fell as you took another bite and swallowed. You grabbed a chip from your bag, shoving it in the top of your burrito. “Apparently I’m starting tomorrow,”

Taylor frowned. “That feels like quite the jump from being left off the roster,” 

She wasn’t entirely sure how the whole selection process worked for roster and starting lineups (despite her recent research into the topic), but it felt very weird for you to go from essentially not on the team to one of the people who would carry it through the game. 

You made a low sound of agreement, swallowing. “I have a feeling it was ownership’s call,” 

Taylor raised an eyebrow at you, clearly asking for a more comprehensive explanation. 

“We lost like 6-0,” You explained. “And our media guy said that the attendance dropped by 40% because I wasn’t on the bench,” 

It was one of the few concessions that Roary made. The team hadn’t been able to break through North Carolina’s midfield without your creativity or ability to draw defenders. They hadn’t been able to supply the forwards or stop the line-breaking balls Zerboni kept sending through, and ultimately it led to a complete creaming of your team. 

They needed you on the field, no matter how loath he was to admit it. That’s why you assumed Armin had overridden the coach's judgment. 

The team brought in less money when they lost. 

Taylor nodded in understanding and the two of you lapsed into silence, slowly munching on your respective burritos. 

“I can’t believe you have a game 2 days apart,” She said after a few minutes. “Doesn’t seem to leave you a lot of time to recover,”

You tilted your head. “The league wants to squeeze in as many matches as they can before the international break,”

“That seems reasonable,” Taylor said, seemingly agreeing with you. 

It didn’t, but the league (and the owners) weren’t really concerned with your health. You were basically a trading card designed to bring them more money. 

You played with the foil around your burrito, biting your lip. “I um… I have an extra pass if you want to come watch,” 

She paused, her grin dipping into a frown. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Going out somewhere isn’t always easy,”

Not that she was sure anyone even knew she was in Chicago. So far, there hadn’t been any talk on social media of her impromptu trip, and she had no intention of that changing. 

She didn’t need the space in front of your apartment becoming a circus. Not with the horrible things the press had been saying about her. 

“The seat is in a box, so no one would see you if you decided you wanted to go, and you can use the player’s entrance,” You explained, trying to seem like you didn’t care what her answer would be. Trying to pretend like you wouldn’t care if she decided not to one. “No cameras are allowed in the tunnels,”

Her lips pressed very tightly together, seemingly seeing through your facade. “I just don’t want to take away from your game,” 

“You can’t distract from the match,” You shrugged. “There will already be crazy speculation because I’m on the roster, and the Camp call-ups haven’t been made public yet,” 

She hummed. She knew that the media that you dealt with was different, but still vicious nonetheless. 

Instead of picking apart your outfit choice or your performances on stage, they tore apart your play. They ripped your soccer skills apart and compared you to your sister at every turn. 

“I think it’s horrible that they’re focusing so much on one play,” 

It was still difficult for her to wrap her head around how a singular moment had seemingly derailed your entire career, but then again a single misconstrued phone call had derailed hers. 

You shrugged. It was nothing when compared to what Taylor was dealing with. “At least they’re attacking me for something I actually did. I ended my soccer career with a single kick. You’re being punished for a man’s lies,”

Taylor nodded slowly, taking another bite of her burrito. 

She didn’t think either circumstance was fair, but that was the position that you were both in. You were trapped by your coaches and she was trapped by perception. 

The only thing either of you could do was control the things you could, and enjoy the ride. Everything would even out eventually. 

“I’ll come to your game,” She said, not just because she knew it would make you happy, but also because she wasn’t ready to leave yet, and going to the game would mean spending more time with you. 

Plus, there was no way she would miss seeing you so in your element in person. Not when it was so ridiculously attractive on screen. 

Your whole face lit up. “Really?”

She couldn’t help but smile too. “Yeah, it should be fun,” 

Even if the paparazzi got wind of it, seeing you look so happy for the first time since you returned from Brazil would make it worth it. 

“It’ll be great. I’ll even make sure to score for you,” You said, wiggling excitedly as you cleaned up your burrito wrapper and held the bag up for her as Art and Apollo both sniffed at it (she was shocked they hadn’t even begged for scraps earlier). 

“If you do, you’ve gotta do the backflip celebration,” She chucked, tossing the aluminum wrapped from her burrito into the bag. “That one’s my favorite,” 

You paused, your grin morphing into a mischievous smirk at the mention of your very famous goal celebration. 

“For sure,” You said with your signature wink, and Taylor couldn’t help but burst into laughter. “I’ll do a double if I get a hat trick, just for you,” 

It took a second for her peels of laughter to dissolve into shorter giggles and for her to catch her breath. It was so strange to have the look you always sent fans directed at her. The look she was sure had landed you most of your famous hookups. 

Though it kind of melted her heart that you only used it on her in a comedic sense. That it shifted back to the look she liked to think you saved just for her as soon as her giggles filled the air. 

“Do you want to watch something before dinner?” You asked, sobering and shifting awkwardly on the couch. “The pups and I thought a pillow fort would be cool,” 

Taylor hummed, leaning her chin on her hand. “I think that sounds incredible,” 

The little fist pump you gave was adorable, as was the way the dogs hopped around you, and in that moment she knew. 

When she looked back on this moment, it would be the one she would point to as the moment she knew she was in love. 

OoOoOoO

Taylor had been to a lot of places in her life. She had played down the road from Seat Geek Stadium in Chicago many times. 

But she had never gotten to see this side of the city. 

She had never gotten to be normal and watch a game without hordes of people screaming for her attention. She hadn’t even needed to use the special player entrance. The stadium attendants had escorted them to the box with zero fanfare, and she felt safe sitting in the open area of the box with the promise that the cameras rarely panned it. 

She didn’t even regret not bringing extra security like she thought she would. 

Her heart also fluttered each time you glanced up at the box, smiling impossibly wider each time she waved.  

It was like the little lanyard pass you had given her (and Tony) was an invisibility cloak.

It was an addictive feeling to be so… free. To be hidden to the rest of the world but so visible to you. 

“She’s really on fire tonight,” Tony said, glancing over at the game clock. 

You had only been on the field for 15 minutes, and you had already scored twice. 

“She’s got a lot to prove,” Taylor hummed, leaning forward in her seat as you slotted another better ball between the two opposing team’s defenders. “This is the first time she’s gotten to play since the Olympics,” 

You had already told her that you probably wouldn’t get to play the full first half anyway. Your coach was stuck on the penalty you took in Brazil just like the rest of the world was, even if Taylor didn’t see a point in basing your playtime off of it. 

That meant you had limited minutes to prove to them that you deserved to be on the pitch. To make them regret not starting you in other games, 

Tony’s head tilted as number 23 played a quick pass back to you and the ball buried itself into the back of the net with just the tap of your toes for your 3rd goal of the evening. 

It looked easy. Fluid. Even when he knew it was anything but. 

You smiled as the crowd went absolutely wild, tipping an invisible hat towards the bench. 

“I think it has more to do with who’s here,” Tony countered, gesturing towards where you winking towards the player's box was replaying on the Jumbotron. 

She shrugged, ignoring the slight red creeping up her cheeks and his sideways glance. “The team has so much more energy when she’s on the field,” 

Even as the teams got ready to reset, you bounced on your toes, twisting your hips in a way that reminded her of the shake it off dance  and saying words Taylor couldn’t hear to your teammates. Words she was sure were organizing your offense. Words she knew would help you continue to shred your former team, even if she herself wouldn’t understand them (watching a game with you had been like listening to a foreign language as you yelled at the screen, unwilling to translate until it was over). 

“She’s the focal point of their offense,” Tony agreed, deciding not to comment further on Taylor’s blush. “But tonight she’s playing more flashy than she normally plays,” 

Taylor hummed. He was right. 

From what she had seen, you were not generally a selfish player. You liked to serve balls on a platter to make your team look good. You liked to pull defenders and set your strikers up. 

Tonight you hadn’t done that. 

Tonight you had taken the chances for yourself, putting them in the back of the net and making sure the league knew exactly what you were capable of. You wanted to show them how dangerous you could be. 

“She’s proving a point,” Taylor reiterated. 

“I don’t disagree,” Tony said as you slotted a very nice through pass past the first defender, and the second just barely poked it out for a corner kick. You glanced up towards the box as you took your position, a little smirk on your face. “I’m just not sold that she’s only proving a point to the coaching staff, her teammates and the reporters,” 

Taylor’s head tilted. 

It was true that while you didn’t play flashy, you did like to tease the fans (and whoever had caught your eye that week). You knew their obsession with you, and you never missed an opportunity to play it up. 

But this felt different. 

You hadn’t been winking at anyone on the field, or in the stands. The only place you kept looking was over towards the coaching staff and up at her. 

“She doesn’t have anything to prove to me,” She said, sitting back in her chair as your header landed in the keeper's hands. 

Tony smirked. “I know that and you know that,” 

Taylor made a low noise, her eyes flitting to the sideline where the 4th official was getting ready with the sub-board. “I think she knows that too,”

You trudged to the sideline when your number came up, using your jersey to wipe your mouth (flashing your abs to the crowd) and glancing up at the clock. 

Taylor followed your eyes, frowning at the large 25 on the screen. 

It was stupid to take you off when you were playing so well, and the booing from the crowd echoed her sentiment. The fans were about as happy as you looked about coming off, even if it was already expected. 

You ignored your replacement and brushed off the coach's hand, glaring at him as you took the pinny from one of the equipment managers. 

There was an odd friction between you and the man, one that brought out a fierceness and an anger that countered your normally sunny personality. But then again, your personality was much different when you were on the field anyway. 

There was a confidence and swagger about you that made butterflies erupt in her stomach. That made her want you in a way that should make her feel uncomfortable. 

But even now, the way you signed autographs for the fans behind the bench reminded her that you were still you. You were still the sweet and shy, not the cocky character you played on the field (even if she was rather sexy). 

This version of you was the one that melted her heart. 

“She might know that, but I think she wants to impress you anyway,” Tony said, drawing her attention back to him. “It’s cute,” 

Taylor raised an eyebrow at him, clearing her throat and trying to ignore the warmth that moved from her cheeks up to her ears. “Shut up,” 

He chuckled, settling back in his seat, ready for the rest of the game (even if it had considerably slowed down now that you weren’t playing). He had a feeling that he would get to witness many more of your interactions in the future and that he would get to see your insane footwork on the field again if the look on Taylor’s face was anything to go by. 

Getting to see the two of you actually interact together had to be just as adorable, and he was looking forward to it. 

OoOoOoO

You sighed, leaning back on the couch, scratching Orion’s head where he rested it in your lap, just above your air therapy boots, and changing the channel for the 30th time. 

You weren’t actually watching the television, but you thought that some background noise would help alleviate the odd emptiness that had overtaken your apartment. It was quiet in a way you hadn’t expected now that Taylor (and Tony) were gone, and it made you feel like there was a little piece of you missing. 

Post-game recovery was always your least favorite part of the process. It always gave you too much time to think and to worry. To dissect every movement you made on the field. 

But now it also gave you too much time to miss Taylor. 

You understood why she had to leave after a quick congratulations after the game. You knew she was busy and that she needed to be in New York to record. 

That didn’t mean that a part of you didn’t wish she had stayed. 

You shook your head, shifting on the couch (much to Orion's annoyance). 

You weren’t supposed to get attached to Taylor. To people in general, really. 

Experience taught you that they would all leave eventually, no matter what they said or how much they promised you they wouldn’t. 

Your parents forgot about your existence when Alex started getting called up to the U20 team. Alex left you for college and was too wrapped up in her new life to remember you existed either. Your friends all left when they realized that you weren’t worth the effort.

 And Taylor…

She would leave too when she found out about the feelings you harbored for her. 

She would write a song about how you ruined your friendship because you were too selfish to accept that she would never feel like you did. Even if she didn’t, she would leave once she saw how fucked up you really were. 

Still, the little voice in your brain fixated on the chemistry between the two of you. On the moments where you caught her staring at your abs during the game, or how you would swear she was staring at your lips when you met her in the tunnel afterward. 

But she couldn’t like you that way, and if she did it was something more than a sexual curiosity. 

You blew out another breath. 

It wasn’t that you hadn’t crossed that line with your friends before, you had, but you didn’t want it to be like that with Taylor. You didn’t want her to be a fuck buddy or a one night stand that she would regret later. 

You couldn’t cross that line without her leaving you, but you weren’t even sure if there was a line to cross. Hell, you had never had a real relationship so you weren’t even sure if you had already crossed it. 

Did friends do the things you and Taylor did? Did friends fly cross country to help? Did they cuddle in pillow forts? 

You were just… lost. 

You had never felt so… attached before. 

You let your head fall back on the couch with a low thump. You didn’t know what to do, and you couldn’t call the person you normally would (Kelley) because she would tell Alex. 

You grabbed your phone from the edge of the couch, scrolling through your contacts until you found one of the few who weren’t ignoring you for missing the PK. One of the few who you trusted (even if you would get the shit teased out of you). 

You paused, your finger hovering over Emily’s picture. 

She would know what to do. She always knew what to do. 

It took you another second to gain the courage to actually press the call button, and you worried your bottom lip as it started to ring. 

She was definitely going to make fun of you. 

“I need your help,” You said as soon as Emily’s face appeared on the screen. 

“Hello Emily, how are you? I’m fine, thank you so much for asking,” 

“Emily,” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose, but she just raised her eyebrows expectantly in response. Your shoulders sank. “Hello Emily, how are you?” 

“I’m doing great,” She smiled cheekily back at you. “Now what’s up?”

You ran a hand through your hair, rubbing over the short curls at the back of your neck, trying to mask how nervous you were. 

“I..-“ You stuttered, looking away. “There’s a girl, and I like her, but I have no clue what’s happening or what’s supposed to happen next,” 

She squinted at you. “Are you dating this girl?”

“No,” You breathed out, dragging your hand from your hair to press into your forehead. “I don’t think so. She’s my friend. She’s straight, but there’s all this weird tension, and I’m not sure if she would ever want to date me. I doubt it, cause like I said she’s straight. But she’s really really pretty and we cuddle and I like her a lot but i-“ 

“Y/n,” Emily said, cutting you off mid-ramble, a playful smile pulling at her lips. 

You blinked at her. “Yeah?”

“Let’s just start at the beginning,” She leaned forward, towards the phone, accentuating each syllable. “And talk at a pace where I can actually understand you,” 

“I…I got drunk and missed a game,” You swallowed down your blush and looked away from her raised eyebrow.  “She flew to Chicago to see me because she was worried, and I bought her her first burrito-,” 

“She’s never had a burrito before? What kind of person hasn’t had a burrito?” Emily snorted, and you felt the tension in your chest relax a little. 

You shrugged. “She said she never had one before. She liked it a lot,”

Emily’s head tilted in question, but she waved her hand. “Ok, carry on with your story,” 

You swallowed hard, focusing on how your fingers dug into the spot at the back of your neck“She came to check on me and convinced me to go to practice. I bought her a burrito, and we had Thai for dinner. 

“Did she sleep over?” She asked you, her pointer finger tapping her bottom lip. 

You nodded slowly. “Yeah. The huskies cuddled up with us in a pillow fort and we both fell asleep to survivor,” 

Emily sighed, sending you a pointed look. That wasn’t what she had been asking. “But you didn’t sleep together?” 

Red instantly colored your cheeks, and the pads of your fingers dug further into the muscles at the base of your skull. “Not in the um… traditional sense,” 

You looked away from her, unable to meet her eyes. You couldn’t have Taylor in that way. She didn’t want you. 

And if you crossed that boundary (like you had with only one other person who was a friend) then you knew you would lose her. 

You weren’t ready for that. 

But at the same time, you didn’t know how to not cross it. Not with the feelings still bubbling in your chest. 

Emily’s eyes narrowed. “Is she still there?” 

“No, she had to go back to New York after the game,” You shook your head. “And we’re going to meet up again while you all are at came because there’s a break,” 

Despite how much you didn’t want her to go, you understood that she had responsibilities and music to record, but that didn’t stop the way your chest ached now that she was gone. 

It didn’t stop the confusion racing around your brain. 

Emily stared at you like you had grown 3 heads. “A girl flew to Chicago for you, waited at your shitty apartment while you were at practice, let you bring her lunch and take her out to dinner, then attended a shitty Red Stars game and you still don’t know if she’s into you,” 

You sighed, weaving your fingers through the too-long curls at the base of your neck and tugging. 

“She’s my friend, Emily,” You grit out. 

She raised an eyebrow at you. “The same friend who answers every time you call her,” 

You tugged harder. “You don’t understand,”

Taylor was like that with all of her friends. She made everyone feel like they were the only person she could see. The only person who mattered when she was with them. 

“I understand just fine,” She snorted. “You’re such a dumbass,” 

You sent her a withering glare. “Emily be serious, please,”

She held her hand up in defense. “I am being serious. You’ve been on at least 2 dates, and she invited you to her place. All before the two of you have hooked up. If that doesn’t scream dating, or the desire to be dating, then I don’t know what will,”

You shook your head, dragging your fingers up through your hair and down your face. 

This was why you hadn’t wanted to call Emily. Why Kelley or Alex would have been a much better option. 

“This is not why I called you,” You mumbled. 

“Then what is?” She asked, sounding amused. 

“I…-“ You bit your lip and finally looked up at her, meeting her eyes through the phone. “I don’t know how any of this works, and I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do next,” 

“Well, at some point a conversation should happen where you define what you two are doing,” She said slowly, her voice turning soft but serious. “but other than that, I think you just go with it,”

You squinted. “Just go with it?”

What was her brilliant advice to your crisis? To just… let whatever was going to happen happen. 

“Yeah, if you’re into it and she’s into it, just be into it, together,” She shrugged. “It doesn’t have to be complicated,” 

Part of you wanted to yell that it already was complicated. That you couldn’t cross a line and lose her like you’d lost everyone else. But you didn’t. 

“Ok,” You said. “Thank you,” 

Emily smiled brilliantly back at you. “No problem, I’ll see you soon,”

You stared at the black screen of the phone as she ended the call. 

Maybe she was right. Maybe you just had to go with it and trust your gut. 

Maybe it would all be ok if you didn’t overthink it. That’s why you were good at hookups after all wasn’t it? 

[nonbinarylocalcryptid]

Astyanax takes another step towards the reconciliation with Odysseus, long snippet ahead, grab some popcorn

One cannot be raised by Odysseus and not ended up being resourceful. In the following week after finding himself alone in Trojan territory, Astyanax had managed to do a few things.

Using the curtains from the palace, he made a cape and something to cover his face while he scouted the ruins filled of dus. This way he managed to find ink and paper, which he use to let letters in the main doors of what was the city of Troy once before.

With the longest stick he could find, he draw in the wet sand of the beach the map of his travels, one he has always known from memory, and with the memory of Eurylochus' voice, he used the stars to situate Troy in said map.

He didn't build a refuge, the weather allowed him to sleep at the beach, covering himself with the curtains once more. Food wasn't a problem either, after sharpening his stick, it was a matter of patience and stabbing some fishes in the water at the shore.

The little ghost even made a bow, rough and rudimentary, but it served it purpose.

The problem came when he thought about leaving Troy. Building a raft wasn't a plan, it won't survive the distance he wanted to cover, and he didn't know if he could build another later on. Every small boat he had managed to find was rotten, so that was out of the question too.

And of course, he didn't even think once about asking the gods for help, cynic as he was of them. Pity that they didn't think the same.

An owl had been following from afar the whole week. He didn't have any interest in befriending Athena, nor he wanted to be her enemy, but the owl couldn't be blame for being the goddess' puppet, so Astyanax let him half of every fish he captured.

The bird was actually a good listener.

"Shouldn't you be doing anything else? Stalking me can't be that funny, I'm just a boy!"

Sometimes he commented on the situation, puzzled.

"What about helping Odysseus? He's in a lot of shit right now. Calypso has only been nice to me, but that doesn't mean she's nice to him...look, I'm worried about him, ok? All alone in that island with that woman and his luck? Not a good combination."

The owl never answered of course, but in exchange for his kindness, the bird guided him to a box of candles, deep in the palace. The boy brought the opened box to his nose, lowering the cloth that covered his face, and marveled at the delicate smell that came from the candles. He knew exactly what to do with them.

He went to the pile of rotten wood that stood in the main place, as he has been doing every time he needed to light up some fire. The wood that caused once Troy's fall was now keeping him dry and warm, there was something poetic in that, and in a way, Odysseus was taking care of him again, despite the original purpose of the wooden horse.

Astyanax looked for a corner of the place where the wind won't disturb the flame of a candle, and there, he light up one of them and make his offer. A leaf with water, a shiny seashell, a rock with the colour of the Moon, a few drops of blood and a piece of his hair.

Yes, he was a cynic, but he was no atheist. Defying the gods was one thing, but having been raised by a religious man, he would never renounce them.

"I pray to Artemis, Goddess of the Moon and the hunt, carer of children, may her bless this bow and protect me in my deeds. I pray to Athena, Goddess of Wisdom, may her stop me from succumbing to Ares and the nonsense of vengeance. I pray to Hermes, God of Messages and Travelers, may him..."

A laugh interrupted him.

"You know, I'm already here, you may as well ask me in person."

Astyanax stood and turned to look at Hermes.

"I thought someone would show up", he admitted, "but I wasn't expecting you."

"Oh, you know me, I like surprises."

"Do you now." The boy let the candle burning and the box next to it. Their purpose was fulfilled. "What can I do for you, herald of the gods?"

He walked to the beach, Hermes following behind.

"Shouldn't I be asking that question, my friend? Look at you! Leaving messages here and there! Yelling at Zeus to spread your word! I'm curious, whose the recipient? Who should receive your words of defiance?"

"They're not of defiance."

"Then what?"

"Hope. That's my message to every Trojan survivor and to the gods," Astyanax look into the distance, lost in thought, "Troy will rise again, that's my message. But before that..."

He slide downwards through a sandy dune, moving towards the shore.

"...before that I must get Odysseus home, I have nothing without him, no family and no purpose. I can't rebuild Troy in my own and I can't let him alone no longer with Calypso." He stared at his map, calculating distances in his mind. "I must get back to him quickly."

"That's a great plan, what a shame he's no longer at Calypso's anymore."

"Wait what." Astyanax stopped in his track, bewildered. "What do you mean?"

Another laugh came from Hermes.

"I mean what I said, friend! He's at the sea as we talk, and in great danger."

"Of course he is," said the boy as he rolled his eyes, "it wouldn't be him if he wasn't."

He looked at his map again, thinking.

"I'm too far away from Calypso's," he murmured to himself, "I'm closer to Ithaca, unbelievable. No raft would survive the trip but...you are still here."

Always the jokester, Hermes mirrored his calculating face, but he was smiling.

"You still haven't asked me for anything."

"You are going to make me beg?"

"Beg? Who do you think I am? Do I look like Zeus to you? Nah, you want something that I can give, all you have to do is ask."

"No tricks?"

"No tricks."

Astyanax stared at the sea, knowing that beyond the horizon, beyond Ithaca, was his father.

"I want a way to reach him in time, nothing else."

Hermes clapped his hands.

"A thoughtful wish, that's for sure!" He bowed, still smiling. "I came here with something for you, you know? It's good to know that you also want it."

Reaching into his satchel, Hermes took out...

"Wait, really? A pair of your winged sandals?" Astyanax was shocked.

"What? You don't want them?" Hermes laughed.

"I didn't say that! I-I... it's because I know what it means."

With his free hand, Hermes ruffled Astyanax's hair. The boy blushed, fast.

"Aww, he's shy because he is under my protection now!" The god didn't doubt in mocking him. "Come on, put them on! They must be exactly your size."

"Y-yes, of course."

"Hm, they look good. Ok, walk a little, yes, now a little sprint...they suit you! I don't need them back, but use them wisely!"

Astyanax nodded, still red as a tomato.

"And because I'm awesome and those are my sandals after all, not only they are disguised as normal shoes, they also light up if you stomp your foot! Cool, isn't it?"

"Really cool," agreed the kid, "you are so random, I love it."

"Glad to hear that! It's part of my charm, my friend. And last, but not least..." Hermes winked, before handing him two sticks. "Be careful with them, have you ever heard of 'don't play with fire'?"

Astyanax grabbed the sticks, but Hermes didn't let go, still playful, but now serious.

"These sticks, when rubbed together, always make fire, I don't need to warn you about the dangers of fire, do I?"

"I'm aware of the danger."

"Good! Now, for my last little gift... don't you have some kind of rope?"

The boy, surprised, pointed at the curtains he took from the palace the first day he found himself at Troy.

"I didn't find any rope, so I cut some stripes from the curtains and then braided them."

"That's perfect, now, gimme gimme gimme...good, now give me your haaaand...yes yes yes, there, a nice friendship bracelet!"

"Mmm...what for"

"To find that father of yours, of course! You just have to ask."

Astyanax looked at Hermes, then looked at the rough braid that was now around his wrist, long hanging ends and all, and decided it was worth a try.

"Where's Odysseus of Ithaca?"

In a heartbeat, the loose ends starting floating, no, pointing...

"Great! So I just have to follow...and fly there." He said, remembering his new sandals. "The last thing I told him was that I hated him...he must think I abandoned him. Thank you, Hermes, how can I repay you?"

"Repay me? What for? Don't be boring, my friend, that's more than enough."

"Boring? I'm the righteous heir to the Trojan throne, I don't think I can be boring."

"That's the spirit, friend, good luck out there!"

And then a flying pre-teenager with two fire-sticks and a lot of self confidence aids Odysseus against Charybdis

Also, Astyanax in this point of his life:

[strwbmei]

i can't get kafka off the brain, she's so attractive 😭 she'd be such a huge brat, testing your patience all the time with that smug grin. she deserves to get tied up, gagged, spanked, humiliated and fucked until she's crying and promising to be good 💞 she's 100% a masochist

-🌧️

I am so sorry. This was only supposed to be a short, 2-4 paragraph thirst, but then it turned into pure filth 😭😭😭 Also a bit extreme compared to other things I've written, so it might not be to most people's tastes

nsfw utc (fem reader with strap on, bondage, dom/sub dynamics, use of toys, spanking, dacriphilia, not proofread)

She'd probably rile you up on purpose just for that. There's nothing she wants more than to just lay there and get fucked senselessly until she inevitably ruins the sheets, and she knows you're perfectly willing to accommodate her. Still, getting what she wants so easily would be so boring, wouldn't it? It's not fun if you aren't seething with a kind of irritation only Kafka could make you feel and if she still has some form of control of her body.

It'd start with you tying Kafka up, a bullet vibrator pressed onto her clit. The way her moans sound through the gag is delightful; they show how much of a whore she is for you. You watch her with disinterest and indifference in her eyes, fully clothed as opposed to how the only things Kafka is wearing are a ball gag and fancy ropes of silk the color of your eyes (something she insisted on) digging into her curves and currently unblemished skin.

It's humiliating, really, being forced to feel all vulnerable and owned—but both of you know just how much she loves that. Maybe if you're in a good mood, you'll even let her cum once or twice tonight. Kafka doubts that, though, especially with how bratty she's been acting. Your patience has its limits, and Kafka wants nothing more than to push you over the very brink of it. She starts begging, vulgar and wanton; almost mocking in its tone.

Kafka thinks you've finally given in when you remove the vibrator from her puffy clit. She prides herself in her beauty, after all. No one would be able to resist her "charms" for long... right? Wrong. Instead, you push her down, knees bent so her face is pressed into the mattress while her hips are up in the air. When you start spanking her ass, she begs for the bullet vibrator again. Her abused cunt just feels so empty, fluttering around nothing as your hand leaves yet another mark on her ass. She's already so overstimulated, and you've barely even started.

The woman endures, locks of hair the color of her most favored wine cascading along her back as each moan becomes more strained than the last. Anticipation fills her lust-addled head as she feels the tip of your length rubbing against her folds. You relish in the way her back arches as you finally insert the strap-on inside her neglected cunt, not to mention the drawn-out moan she lets out. God, you're sure her facial expression right now is downright sinful—you can tell by how she's clawing at the bedsheets and eagerly moving her hips to chase yours.

But you don't move.

Why would you? Did Kafka think you'd be nice to her after all that she's done? Her whines are barely audible through the ball gag, but you hear her mention something about "how mean you always are to her." Funny. You've been patient with all of her bullshit for as long as you've remembered, yet now you're the mean one. You were planning to be a bit lenient since you felt bad for her, but she can wave goodbye to any chance of being able to use either her voice or her legs for the next few days.

"Move," you command her. "Don't you think it's time you stopped relying on me to get you off?" Kafka whimpers at your words, looking back at you with glossy eyes. You can't help but snicker in response. It's rare to see her so desperate and needy to be filled. Maybe you should do this more often? She never really learns her lesson, after all. Realizing you weren't gonna budge on your decision, she rocks her hips as much as she can with her limited range of movement. She can feel each vein and bump of the fake toy rubbing against her walls, but it just isn't enough.

It's not rough enough. Not fast enough. Not deep enough. Nowhere close to being enough, but Kafka submits to the humiliation nonetheless. She can't bring herself to care anymore, too focused on making sure to savor each and every bit of pleasure she's feeling. You look at how fervently she's fucking herself on the fake cock, and think of how you've each turned the other into fully fledged perverts. Kafka wasn't this much of a masochist before she ended up in your bed. Or was it hers? You don't remember.

She never understood the people who liked getting hurt. Kafka used to find the marks that ropes left on her skin itchy and unbearable, but now she loves reliving the memories of lust and passion whenever she sees them. She wears them with pride. You, on the other hand—have never felt like more of a degenerate. You catch yourself wanting to break her; to ruin her for anybody else. You desire to know her body in a way completely exclusive to you. You want to own her; mind, body, and soul.

The past few minutes are a blur. Without realizing, you've been fucking Kafka senseless as she sobs from the overstimulation. The smell of sex fills the air as does the sound of your hips colliding with the fat of her ass. You thrust as quickly as you can, much to the other woman's pleasure, but the tightness of her pussy makes it more difficult than it usually is. You've been holding her over the brink for a while now—you're not sure how long exactly, but enough for her legs to be shaking and for her knees to give out. If not for your hands settling themselves on her waist, she would've toppled over. Kafka is powerless, and she loves it.

When you see her cum form a white ring on the base of your strap, you know you've found another excuse to fuck her dumb, and you plan on making full use of it.

[valgodd]

You sit in the waiting room of the doctors office, nervously fidgeting your hands. It’s time for the annual health check up. You sure had a good year, the trousers digging into your belly are proof of that.

A nurse calls your name. Are you imagining things, or did she she do a double take when she saw you, her eyes lingering slightly over your pudgy mid section? She offers you a polite, professional smile though, and lead you into the office.

The doctor, a graying fit man man in his late fifties, sits behind his desk, endorsed in paper work.

”Welcome mr/ms Y/N” he murmurs. He glances at you over his spectacles, his eyes sweeping over your red, round cheeks, budding double chin and protrouding belly. ”Well you certainly look… healthy. Shall we get started?” He gestures towards an old fashioned manual steele scale. You step on it with a loud *clonk*. The doctor raises an eyebrow and adjusts the metal weight until the scale is in balance. He looks in his notes and scoffs, almost sounding amused.

”Well well… you were close to underweight last time we weighed you. Now however… you seem to have fattened up quite nicely.”

You swallow, feeling very self concious.

”H-how much have I gained?”

”It seems to be… almost sixteen kilos”

”Sixteen kilos?” That was more than you had expected. 

”Sixteen kilos” the doctor confirms ”Thats… quite much in just a years time.”

”Well there obviously must me something wrong with your scale” you say with an akward laugh. The doctor smirks. ”The scale is perfectly fine, I asssure you. Any… changes of habits recently?”

”Well…” you are tempted to lie, but the doctor looks at you sternly. 

”Well what?”

”Uhm I guess I… relaxed a bit recently” you admit ”I-I moved in with my partner… They’ve been cooking a lot for me… And I haven’t gone to the gym as… frequently as I used to” your voice trails off.

”Uhuh. That explains alot, doesnt it? Well, last time I saw you, you were a scrawny little thing and you sure needed to put on a few. Sixteen kilos though… That’s overdoing it. You need to get rid of that gut” the doctor pats your tummy condencendingly. 

”Yes doc” you say and and clench your jaws. How could you have let yourself go like this? Why didn’t anybody tell you you were getting so big?

”We should measure your body fat to, dear. Pull up your shirt for me, will you?”

You reluctantly pull up your shirt and reveal a pale, squishy midsection.  The doctor takes a metal clisp and take a firm grip on your belly roll between his thumb and indexfinger. You feel the cold metal against your skin, and winces as the clisp pinches you.

”Godness me…” he murmurs. You swallow. ”Well you certainly haven’t been starving” the doctor chuckles as he scribbles down some notes in his papers. ”So… tell your partner to cut down on the butter and cream in their cooking. It really isnt doing you any favours. Maybe go on some brisk walks together. By next year, I want to see you trimmed down. Okay?”

You nod and manage a polite smile.

After the meeting, your partner meets you up outside the doctors office. They give you brief kiss on the lips and squeeze your sides. 

”How was the doctors appointment love?”

”Well…”

”You look upset, is everything alright?”

You sigh.

”Well the doctor told me I had gained too much weight” you murmur.

”Oh love…”

”Yeah… god it was so humiliating” you press your palms against your eyes, feeling tears burn under your eyelids. Your partner pulls you into an embrace.

”My poor baby… Hey hey…. Shh… Its okay, its okay... We’ve had a good year, haven’t we? Its been so nice to see you eat whatever you want, to your hearts content. I would hate him to ruin that for you love”

You nod, sniveling. Your partner strokes your belly in calming circles.

”Screw him. Tell you what love” your partner lowers their voice to a whisper ”I just made your favourite eclairs. The ones with chocolate cream. Why dont we go home and have some?”  

You can’t help but light up.

”Oh yes those are my favourite” you murmur longingly with a moan, feeling your mouth water. 

”Hey I knew that would put a smile on your  face” you partner chuckles and pinches your chubby cheek lovingly ”Lets go home dear, let me take care of you”

[myfeetrcolddd]

Say Please

The word 'Please' was foreign to Theodore Nott, he never needed to say it because he always got what he wanted, and with all things said he was never rejected.

When Theo had set his sights on the girl of the week his friends hadn't been surprised, they only figured it was a matter of time before he noticed the girl, she was beautiful, stunning, like she was blessed by the gods themselves, and she seemed oh so innocent. And they all knew Theo liked the idea of ruining seemingly innocent things.

What none of them, all but Pansy it seemed, had expected, was for her to reject Theo. Not that she wasn't capable of it, Theo had technically been rejected plenty of times, but it was all by girls who were trying to play hard to get, and at first Theo had told himself it was just that, her playing hard to get.

But a week passed and she was still rejecting him, rolling her eyes and scoffing at the sight of him, and Theodore was becoming effectively obsessed with her, and everyone saw it, everyone but her it seemed.

"Get lost, Nott." She scowled at him as she tried to walk around him.

"Can't, I'm drawn to you like a moth to a flame." He said and she rolled her eyes.

"I'm sure there are plenty of things you can't do, like take no for an answer. Now, get out of my way." She shoved past him and shook her head, "Bloody prick." She mumbled to herself, and despite herself she glanced back to see if he had walked away, but instead she found him staring after her he faraway look on his face.

She looked straight ahead and tried not to think much of it.

It'd been a week of this, of him following her around the school like a dog on a leash begging her to even talk to him and her trying her best to ignore him.

She hadn't expected him to be like this, to be so persistent, everyone knew about Theodore Nott and his habit of going from girl to girl without a second thought. She had always disliked the way girls were always falling at his feet, how he never had to ask for it, for the girl to even look his way let alone consider do things with him.

If he wasn't such a man whore Y/N was sure she would have already done things with him, because she'd be dumb not to admit he was hot.

She was in one of the farther corners of the library, hiding from the messy haired Slytherin boy. And she was thinking about how, throughout the past two weeks, Theo hadn't even actually said the magic word, he never said please.

She smirked to herself, and decided that she would finally put both herself and Theo out of their misery.

🦖🦖🦖🦖🦖🦖🦖🦖🦖🦖🦖🦖🦖🦖🦖🦖🦖🦖🦖🦖🦖🦖

"So you've finally decided to talk to me?" Theo smirked at the girl who stood in his door frame.

"Can I come in?" She asked, and he nodded. So she walked in and closed the door behind her. "You know, Theo," She said lowly, her voice filled with lust as she walked slowly around around him like a vulture circling its prey. "I always thought you were quite nice looking."

"You flatter me, princess." He said, breathlessly, waiting for her to initiate something.

"I know." She smirked at him, coming to stand right in front of him, "But i realized something earlier," She stepped closer to him, "You've never, not once, in the past two week, said please." Soon she was so close that if he really wanted he could just lean down and kiss her.

Theo found himself leaning in, and he was only a breath away from her lips when she pressed a finger against his lips, keeping him from kissing her. "Nuh uh" She tutted and pushed him back towards his bed, forcing him to sit down so she could look down at him.

She let her fingers trace the outlines of his face. She leaned down and started to kiss his neck, sucking and licking and going lower. The reached to grab her hips, but she stopped him and stopped all together. "No touching, only if you say please."

Theos eyes darkened and he growled slightly, she grinned. "C'mon Theo. Say it." She teased him, rubbing his bulge and kissing his neck. She could see him making fists with his hands, stopping himself from touching her. "Just one simple word and we'll both get what we want." I whispered, nipping at his ear.

"God," He groaned, and his hands were on her and soon she was flipped onto her back on Theos bed with him above her, "Please." He said, his voice raspy and dripping with lust, she grinned at him before she pulled his head down and smashed his lips onto hers.

She could feel his hands feeling everything, anything, and soon his mouth wasn't on her lips, but they were on her neck, the soft spot behind her ear, her collar bone, her breast, and down, down, down.